FOX'S BOOK OF MARTYRS:
THE
ACTS AND MONUMENTS OF THE CHURCH
BY JOHN FOX

PART 1
A.D. 33-1360

(Illustration: Frontispiece -- Portrait of John Fox )

-- "had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover of
bonds and imprisonment: they were stoned, they were sawn asunder,
were tempted, were slain with the sword: they wandered about in
sheepskins and goatskins; being destitute, afflicted, tormented; of
whom the world was not worthy." - HEB. xi 36-38.

-- "their blood is shed
in confirmation of the noblest claim
Our claim to feed upon immortal truth,
To walk with God, to be divinely free,
To soar, and to anticipate the skies." - COWPER.

(Illustration: Title Page -- The emperor Commodus casting a dart at
the wild beasts )



INTRODUCTION.
REVERERE VULTUS ET VULNERA TOT FORTIUM VIROILUM, QUOTQUOT PRO
LIBERTATE TAM STRENUE DECERTARUNT, MANES ETIAM EORUM QUl IN IPSO
CERTAININE OCCUEUERUNT. -- MILTON'S DEFENSIO SEGUNDA.

No book, with the exception of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, has been
so extensively, and at the same time so deservedly, popular as Fox's
Book of Martyrs. It has almost invariably made its appearance under
the auspices of some discerning spirit, at the moment its lessons
needed to be most widely learnt, and its truths most profoundly felt.
No sooner has popery begun to lift its head, like Marius of old, amid
the marshes of Minturnæ, aiming even from its ruins at supremacy and
making proselytes, than the Acts and Monuments have come forth to
resist its spread and crush its hopes. It is here literally true, "he
being dead yet speaketh." Nor is this to be wondered at. The scenes
which Fox so graphically depicts, the tragedies he records, very
often from personal knowledge, to have been acted upon them, the
names of the holy men who fell victims to the emissaries of the
papacy, the truths taught at the stake, which superstitious priests
hoped to annihilate in the flames that consumed their advocates, and
the Bibles they tried to bury in the graves that contained the ashes
of the "noble army of martyrs;" -- - these and other stirring facts
are well fitted to arouse long dead recollections, to lead us to
pity, not to proscribe, the poor Romanist, who is the victim of a
cruel sacerdotal tyranny, and to bless and praise the Lord our God,
who gave to our fathers grace to labour, and to us the high privilege
of entering into their labours. The volumes of Fox are the faithful
registers of the awful deeds of the Church of Rome, the transcripts
of those dreadful principles which have made every country in which
they have obtained the ascendency, from the wilds of the Arab to the
steppes of the Cossack, a very Aceldama. The numerous editions
through which the Acts and Monuments have passed show plainly that
the martyrologist speaks a tongue that finds an echo in the hearts of
the people. They feel his volumes to be the comments only on a sacred
cause, to which were devoted the strength of manhood and the grey
hairs of age. They reverence the martyrs that sealed it by their
blood. May they draw from the earth that contains their honoured
ashes motives to persevere in the paths they travelled. May we never
forget that husbands, wives, brethren, sisters, sons, and fathers
fell, like the beauty of Israel, in their high places, "contending
for the faith once delivered to the saints." Our sweetest and most
precious privileges are, under God, the fruits of their travail, the
price of their lives, freely given, that we, their offspring, may
live free.

Originally Fox's Martyrs appeared in Latin, and bore the following
title:-- Commentarii rerum in Ecclesiâ gestarum a Wiclefi temporibus
usque ad annum AND, 8vo. 1554; or, An Account of Transactions in the
Church from the times of Wycliff to the year 1500. Five years after
this a much larger volume was issued, bearing the following title:--
Rerum in Ecclesiâ gestarum, maximarumque per Europam persecutionum,
ac sanctorum Dei Martyrum Commentarii, in folio, Basileæ, 1559; or,
Records of Transactions in the Church, and of the leading
Persecutions of the Saints and Martyrs of God throughout Europe.
About four years after the appearance of this edition, i. e. about
A.D. 1563, one Henry Pantaleon published at Basle a continuation of
the Acts and Monuments, which seems to have been subsequently
incorporated with the original. The date of the first edition in
English is, according to Dr. Dibdin, A.D.1563, Its title is as
follows:--ACTS AND MONUMENTS of these latter and perilous Days,
touching Matters of THE CHURCH; wherein are Comprehended and
described the great Persecutions and horrible Troubles that have been
wrought and practised by the Roman Prelates, especially in these
Realms of ENGLAND and SCOTLAND, from the Year of our Lord a thousand,
unto the time now present. Gathered and collected according to the
true Copies and Writings, Certificatory as well of the parties
themselves that suffered, as also out of the Bishops' Registers who
were the Doers thereof, By JOHN FOX. London, 1562-3, from the press
of JOHN DAY.

A second edition also in English was printed and issued by Day in
1570, with additional wood cuts and illustrations.

A third edition appeared in 1576, entitled, The first Volume of
Ecclesiastical History. The Sufferings of the Martyrs newly
recognised and enlarged by the Author, J. Fox. 2 vols, folio, 1576.

The fourth edition appeared in 1583. Its title is as follows:--"ACTS
AND MONUMENTS of Matters, most special and memorable, happening in
THE CHURCH, with an Universal History of the same; wherein is set
forth at large the whole Race and Course of the CHURCH, from the
primitive Age to these latter Times of ours, with the bloody Times,
horrible Troubles, and great Persecutions against the true Martyrs of
CHRIST, sought and wrought as well by Heathen Emperors, and now
lately practised by ROMISH PRELATES, especially in the Realm of
ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND. Newly revised, and now the fourth time again
published.
By JOHN Fox. 1583.

The last edition of the sixteenth Century appeared in 1596, and bore
the following title:-- ACTS AND MONUMENTS of Matters happening in THE
CHURCH, with an Universal History, &c., as it was recognised by the 
AUTHOR, Maister JOHN Fox. The fifth time newly imprinted. Anno 1596.

All these editions are in black letter. The best and most authentic
is understood to be that of 1563. Accordingly, it has been selected
as the basis of the present edition. From 1684 to the present time
every edition has been in the Roman letter.

We cannot afford space to enumerate recent editions. Their great
number is proof of the universal esteem and value of the work. But it
may probably be asked, What necessity is there for another edition,
seeing there have been already so many? Our answer is the reason of
our labours. Almost every edition has been either a collection of all
the extraneous and irrelevant matter by which Fox's narratives are
frequently cumbered, of great bulk, and of greater expense; or mere
abridgements, fit for fashionable circulating libraries, but
unnerved, and despoiled of the greatest excellences and most precious
chapters of the hoary martyrologist. Seeley's noble reprint is fit
for the libraries of universities, the archives of museums, the
tables of scholars. It is a literal and exact reprint. But its price
and its shape repel the ordinary reader. The compilations that have
preceded and followed it are entitled to the name of Fox's Acts and
Monuments for no other reason than that the main facts and incidents
have been gathered from the pages of the venerable chronicler. It
does therefore seem to be most desirable that a complete and yet
popular edition of the Acts and Monuments of Fox should appear. Such
an edition we now profess to lay before the public. In this it will
be found that Latin quotations and references, including extracts and
letters to and sometimes from the martyrs, and repetitions in the
shape of headings, are substantially all that have been removed. The
bulk of the work is thus reduced, while the original matter remains
almost unaltered and unimpaired. We have extracted only a few weeds,
in order that those plants which our heavenly Father planted may
appear in all their goodly proportions. The features of the martyrs
themselves are not touched or altered in the least; incrustations
only are removed. The present edition is in all respects fitted to
instruct the learned, to interest the ordinary reader, and to present
to both neither a dull nor a deficient edition of the Acts and
Monuments of Fox.

All the early editions were illustrated by frequent but rude wood
cuts. The engines of perverted mind for torturing the confessors of
the faith were so intricate, the modes of martyrdom so varied, but
all in the infliction of pain exquisite, and some of the scenes at
the same time so extraordinary, that these illustrations became
almost essentially necessary. All that was historically and
topographically correct in the wood cuts of the early and authentic
editions will be retained in the present. The manipulation, style,
and execution only will be of the first excellence. Other subjects
arising out of the body of the work will be illustrated; and thus an
edition of Fox will be got up that will be an acquisition to the
libraries of the learned and unlearned.

Something must be said of the veracity and faithfulness of our
martyrologist. Since his records came to occupy a large share of
patronage and popularity, objections have been urged, not only from
papal sources, as was to be expected, but from professing
protestants. One of the most bitter papal opponents of Fox was the
wily Harding. The following are some of the chaste and indigenous
terms in which this Jesuit speaks of our author: "There have not so
many thousands of your brethren been burned for heresy in these last
twenty years as ye pretend; and this is the chief argument ye make in
all that huge dunghill of your stinking martyrs, which ye have
entitled Acts and Monuments." To this Bishop Jewel makes the
following free and faithful reply: "Ye have imprisoned your brethren;
ye have stript them naked; ye have scourged them with rods; ye have
burned their hands and arms with flaming torches; ye have famished
them; ye have drowned them; ye have summoned them, being dead, to
appear before you; ye have taken up their buried carcasses and burned
them; ye have thrown them out unto the dunghill; ye took a poor babe
newly born, and in a most cruel and barbarous manner threw him into
the fire. All these things are true, they are no lies. The eyes and
consciences of thousands can witness to your doings. Ye slew your
brethren so cruelly, not for murder, or robbery, or any other
grievous crime they had committed, BUT ONLY THAT THEY TRUSTED IN THE
LIVING GOD. The worst word that proceeded from their lips was, 'O
Lord, forgive them; they know not what they do: Lord Jesus, receive
my spirit.' In the mean while, ye stood by and delighted your eyes
with the sight. Oh! Mr. Harding, your conscience knoweth these be no
lies; they are written in the eyes and hearts of many thousands.
These be the marks of your religion. Oh what reckoning will ye yield,
when so much innocent blood will be required at your hands!"

Milner, a zealous and subtle Romanist, in his work entitled The End
of Controversy, declares that "Cranmer and others of the protestants
were consigned to the flames because they had been. guilty of high
treason. Fox is a liar, and not to be believed even when he speaks
the truth." All this may be exceedingly convenient to the champions
of the papal hierarchy, but they know well that the martyrs in the
days of Queen Mary, who, Lingard the Romish historian says "was one
of the best of the English princesses," suffered not for infringement
of civil law, but for the maintenance of gospel truth. The policy of
the Jesuits is always to father on protestants the very crimes of
which they themselves are guilty. Milner and Lingard show how well
they have studied in the school of Ignatius Loyala. The protestants
burned in the days of Queen Mary were burned, as legal and civil
documents still accessible demonstrate, simply for disclaiming
transubstantiation, the supremacy of the pope, and the assumed right
of the Romish priesthood to debar the laity from reading the sacred
Scriptures. But, on the other hand, the papists who suffered in the
days of Elizabeth were, as the indictments and other authentic
records show, executed for high treason, for regicide principles, and
for open or disguised, but clearly proved, opposition to the dynasty
and sceptre of Elizabeth. A convicted murderer of unrenewed heart
will of course naturally impeach judge, jury, and evidence. The
papacy however has not put down the gospel, which embosoms the glory
and the functions of Christ; and it shall not crush the humbler
records, which stamp his true character on the exploits of
antichrist. Neale, a far abler and purer witness than Milner, or
Lingard, or Harding, confirms the testimony of Jewel in these words:
"Fox was a person of indefatigable labour and industry, and an exile
for reigion in Queen Mary's days; he spent all his time abroad in
compiling the Acts and Monuments; which were published first in
Latin, and afterwards when he returned to his native country with
enlargements. Vast were the pains he took in searching records and
collecting materials for his work; and SUCH WAS ITS ESTEEM, THAT IT
WAS ORDERED TO BE SET UP IN ALL THE PARISH CHURCHES IN ENGLAND." "No
book," continues the historian of the puritans, "ever gave such a
mortal wound to popery as this."

It may be objected, that the same necessity does not now exist for
the republication ofthis celebrated work. This is a great mistake. If
the Romish hierarchy had renounced the canons, decretals, bulls, and
rescripts, that embody the worst elements of persecution, it would be
ungenerous to upbraid them with the deeds of their predecessors. But
they neither have renounced, nor can, as Romanists, renounce, the
principles that received the stamp of infallibility in days that are
passed. The Church of Rome cannot recede one jot from her ancient
pretensions without renouncing the ground on which she stands. It
would be suicide to admit that her most sanguinary canons were sinful
and erroneous. Nor does she wish to make any such concession. She may
cast dust in the eyes of protestants, she may profess all meek and
merciful things; but this is designedly, and for a specific end.
Depressed, she arrays herself in all the pomp and splendour of
universal liberality and good will; but upon an uncontested throne,
in Spain, in Italy, and in Britain too, if she were what she would
be, these attractive assumptions drop off, and the woman drunk with
the blood of martyrs trampling on the name of Christ, and on the
hopes and happiness of believers, starts into bold and prominent
relief.

Persecution, it is only fair to admit, has certainly been practised
by individuals claiming to be the children of the protestant faith,
but never has the principle that originated it been incorporated in
any of the creeds of the protestant churches. This is precisely the
difference between papal persecution, and such instances of severity
as have been ascribed to protestant reformers and ministers.
Persecution is embosomed in the canons of the Romish Church, whereas
it is abjured and reprobated in the creeds of the protestant church.
If a Roman catholic persecutes, he acts in full accordance with the
principles to which he has subscribed; if a protestant persecutes, he
acts in diametrical opposition to the articles he professes to adhere
to. When a Roman catholic disclaims persecution, he thereby impugns
the infallibility and retreats from the ground occupied by his
Church; when a protestant persecutes, he thereby renounces his faith,
and enters on territory infamously sacred to Rome. The rule of faith
and conduct held by the Roman catholic is, "The Bible or written
word, and tradition or the unwritten word, and both propounded and
expounded by the Church." Now the two last limbs of this triple rule
have been dyed in blood, They have been the fountain-heads out of
which the Inquisition drew numerous precedents, Dominic most ample
instruction, and the fourth Lateran its anti-social canons. The rule
of faith held by protestants, on the other hand, is, THE BIBLE ALONE,
in which we defy the acutest sceptic or bitterest papist to extract
one precept to persecute, or one precedent for ecclesiastical
extirpation of heretics. When, therefore, Roman catholics persecute,
their rule of faith applauds them; when protestants persecute, their
rule of faith condemns them. The former rule is the nurse of
persecution, the latter the extinguisher of it. The one carries the
faggot, lights the flames, and cheers the actors in the auto-da-fe;
the other brings living waters from life's most merciful fountain, to
quench the fire and to refresh the martyr, and, it may be, to convert
the murderer. Hence in the papal Church Pius V. and Dominic are
canonized and beatified; and to keep their sanguinary conduct fresh
in the minds of their descendants, there are collects with special
reference to these persecutors in the English Missal for the use of
the Roman catholic laity, used on the proper Sundays in every papal
chapel in England. What can be clearer evidence of the animus of the
Roman catholic hierarchy, or of the justice of our charge against
these principles, than the following reference to a canonized! or
beatified! persecutor in the English Missal for the use of the laity:
"O God, who has enlightened thy church by the eminent virtues and
preaching of blessed Dominic, thy confessor, grant that by his
prayers we may be provided against all temporal necessities, and
daily improve in all spiritual good." Again, "Sanctify, O Lord, the
gifts we have offered thee, and by the merits of blessed Dominic thy
confessor, grant that they may be healing to us."

This man was employed by Pope Innocent III. to trace out and punish
those heretics the pious and holy Albigenses. His weapons were
persecution, the blood of saints is on his robes, and were the papacy
improved such a collect as that we have extracted would be expunged
from the Missal.

In the protestant church such men are branded as guilty persecutors,
and thanks and glory rendered unanimously to Him who has made us to
differ. If it may be replied, that some of the protestant Reformers
persecuted, we admit it. This ought not to be denied, as some with
more enthusiasm than discretion have done, May we not ask, Is this to
be wondered at? The Reformers had been nursed at the bosom of a
Church in which persecution is incorporated as a vital and essential
element, and applauded in precedent and urged in precept. The
earliest lesson they had been taught was the propriety of extirpating
heretics in order to put down heresy; and the wonder is not that they
used carnal weapons in one or two isolated instances, but that they
so soon abjured the unholy spirit, exorcised it from the creeds they
drew up, and abandoned it, rejoicing in a holier faith in their
after-conduct. The Church of Rome never can in her corporate
character renounce persecution. She must let go her assumption of
immutability and infaffibility, if she disclaim the principles or
abjure the patrons of persecution. Some of the most illustrious
councils of the Roman Church enacted persecuting canons. The Councils
of Tours, Narbonne, Beziers, and Thoulouse passed a variety of anti-
social and cruel laws against those witnesses for Christ, the
Albigenses and the Waldenses. The third Council of the Lateran, and
above all the fourth, and subsequently the fifth, issued decrees that
stain the history of man, and present the papal hierarchy to future
ages visibly with blood upon its most gorgeous robes. Ultimately the
scattered efforts of the Romish hierarchy were concentrated and
systematized in the institution of the Inquisition. Languedoc, Spain,
Portugal, and Goa all testify to the deeds of this dreadful incubus
on freedom, faith, and happiness. The soil of those lands, it is
true,bears no traces of the innocent blood shed upon it. Vineyards,
and golden harvests, and rural hamlets now meet the eye, where murder
and falsehood, cruelty and bloodshed, fused into one, composed the
character of the murderer, and where mercy and truth, righteousness
and peace, blended into one, made up the temper of the martyrs; but
the wounds inflicted on Christianity, on man, and on the glory of
God, are fresh and bleeding, and will re-open, should we ever prove
forgetful of the deep debt ofobligation we owe the "noble army of
martyrs," or become dead to the yet profounder gratitude we must now
feel to that gracious God, who, in his mercy, has cast our lot in
better, even in halcyon days.

It is almost supererogation to furnish proofs of these assertions.
Romanists must smile at the scepticism of some protestants. We might
refer to the massacre on the eve of St. Bartholomew, as a proof not
merely of the sanguinary spirit then cherished by the Romish
apostacy, but of their yet unabandoned adherence to it at this day.
At Paris, in 1572, the poor Hugonots, who had been decoyed and
deceived by false professions, were murdered to the number of five
thousand according to Mezerai, six thousand according to Bossuet, and
ten thousand according to Davila. "The streets of Paris flowed with
blood. Charles IX. and his queen feasted their eyes on the dead that
floated down the Seine. The day-light, which discovered so many
crimes, which the darkness of an eternal night ought for ever to have
concealed, did not soften their ardour by these objects of pity, but
exasperated them the more. The populace and more dastardly, being
warmed by the smell of blood, sixty thousand men, transported with
this fury and armed in different ways, ran about wherever example,
vengeance, rage, and the desire of plunder transported them. The air
resounded with a horrible tempest of the engines, blasphemies, and
oaths of the murderers, of the breaking open of doors and windows, of
the firing of pistols and guns, of the pitiable cries of the dying,
of the lamentations of the women whom they dragged by the hair, of
the noise of carts, some loaded with the booty of the houses they
pillaged, others with the dead bodies they cast into the Seine; so
that in the confusion they could not hear each other speak in the
streets; or if they distinguished certain words, they were those
furious expressions, "Kill, stab, throw them out of the window." Some
were shot on the roofs of houses, others were cast out of the
windows; some were cast into the water, and knocked on the head with
blows of iron bars; some were killed in their beds -- wives in the
arms of husbands, husbands in the bosoms of their wives, and sons at
the feet of their fathers. They neither spared the aged, nor women
great with child, nor even infants." Mezerai's History ofFrance. See
vol. ii. p. 1098. Paris, 1646.

The question naturally occurs, How would our blessed Lord have looked
on such a scene? What verdict would he have uttered over such a
record? He would have wept over the wickedness of man, and deplored
the dreadful catastrophe that so cruelly overtook the innocent and
the helpless. His professed successor and representative, the pope,
however, "went in procession," according to the testimony of Mezerai,
"to the church of St. Lewis, to render thanks to God for so happy a
victory;" and his legate, in the pope's name, congratulated the
French king on his exploits; and in the Roman Missal or Prayer Book,
used in every Roman catholic chapel throughout the kingdom, this poor
people are taught to pray on the festival of Pius V., who urged
Charles IX. to the murderous massacre, in the following words:

"O God, who wast pleased to raise blessed Pius to the dignity of
chief bishop, in order to depress (i. e. crush) the enemies of the
church."

This keeps persecution fresh before the people. Pope Gregory XIII.,
only regarding the good which he thought likely to result from this
to the catholic religion in France, and to perpetuate the memory of
this event, caused several medals to be struck; whereon he himself is
represented on the one side, and on the other side an angel, carrying
a cross in one hand, and a sword in the other, exterminating the
heretics, and more particularly the Admiral Coligné. In Spain the
same deed was praised in the presence of King Philip, and they dared
to call it the triumph of the church militant. See Fleuri's Eccles.
Hist. vol. xxiii. Book 173, p. 557. Nismes, 1780.

The BULL UNIGENITUS, which, according to the evidence of Dr. Murray,
the Roman catholic archbishop of Dublin, is received by the Romish
Church throughout all Ireland, decrees that, if required, the secular
arm is to be called in to compel and coerce those who hold the truths
of the gospel to recant and renounce them. Its words are, "We
moreover charge our venerable brethren, the patriarchs, archbishops,
and bishops, and other ordinaries of districts, and the inquisitors
of heretical wickedness, utterly to coerce and compel, by the above-
mentioned censures and penalties, and by the other remedies of law
and deed, THE AID OF THE SECULAR ARM BEING INVOKED FOR THIS PURPOSE
IF IT BE NECESSARY, all who oppose and resist."

The Catechism of the Council of Trent asserts, that those who quit
the Church of Rome may "be judged, punished, and anathematized."

Dr. Delahogue in his Class Book for the instruction of the priests
educated at Maynooth, states that the Church retains her jurisdiction
over all baptized persons, as a commander retains authority over
deserters, and may denounce and decree for them similar and severe
punishments.

The worst and bitterest persecutors in the past history of the Romish
Church are, we find, canonized and beatified as saints. St. Dominic,
the harbinger, if not the founder, of the Inquisition, St. Thomas
Aquinas, whose secunda secundæ are replete with persecuting
principles, St. Ferdinand of Castile, a burner of heretics, and Pius
V., are embalmed in the devotions, and presented as models to the
imitation, of the Roman catholics of Great Britain.

We do not so much condemn the laity of the Church of Rome. They do
not know the full extent of the wickedness of that apostacy of which
they are the victims. We pray for them. We pity them. Our present
work is for them as for ourselves. It is another warning cry to come
out of Babylon. Fox's Book of Martyrs is republished in its present
popular form, not only to warn protestants against the subdued
pretences of this awful and unchanged superstition, and thereby to
prepare them to resist and repel it by Scripture, fact, and argument;
but also to stir up Roman catholics to abjure a Church so branded in
the tablets of universal history, and so doomed in the pages of the
word of God. We here enter on no crusade against their rights or
privileges as citizens. We seek higher and nobler objects. We thus
beseech them to flee from Babylon as from a crumbling ruin, replete
with the prestiges of approaching destruction. It is our heart's
desire and prayer unto God for them that they may be saved. But our
affection to them, however intense, must not induce us to compromise
our faithfulness to protestants. We desire to awaken and impress them
especially. We desire to resuscitate and nourish in their hearts a
more thrilling sense of the privileges they enjoy, a profounder
impression of the gratitude they ought to cherish toward their
martyred fathers, and of the responsibilities, the solemn and weighty
responsibilities, that devolve on them.

The loudest boast made at the present day by the Church of Rome is
her UNITY, and with the exhibition of this she expatiates at no
ordinary length on the dissensions of professing Protestants. We do
not in these few observations attempt to vindicate the unity of
protestants, but rather to show that the Romish assumption of unity
is totally devoid of truth. We must not forget that the value of
unity depends on the nature of the things of which it is composed.
Concord becomes conspiracy when it is against the truth of God and
the rights of humanity. Aaron the high priest, and a vast multitude
besides, were united to a man in the worship of the golden calf.
Korah and his people, and the ten tribes at Beth-el, were each
thoroughly united, but are one and all Scripturally and justly
condemned. The Samaritans were more united than the Jews, having no
sects or divisions. Satan and his angels are as united as Michael and
his. Hell is the site of unbroken unity; for unity is an essential
mark of the kingdom of Satan, who knows, and acts upon the knowledge,
that a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand. We must therefore
look at the things in which men are united, in order to elicit a just
estimate of the value of their union. If we apply this test to the
Church of Rome, we shall find it a gigantic conspiracy against the
Prince of peace -- the concord of unenlightened minds and
unsanctified spirits, to raise the creature to a level with the
Creator, and to exalt the church above Christ.

It will be found that the unity of which the Church of Rome so
repeatedly boasts springs from one of two sources, IGNORANCE or
COMPULSION. It arises first from ignorance, and is dissolved the
moment that the light of truth shines upon it. The Ephesians enjoyed
uninterrupted unity when they, ignorant of the one living and true 
God, simultaneously shouted, "Great is Diana of Ephesus." The Jews
almost unanimously concurred in the dreadful sentiment, "Not this
man, but Barabbas." During the middle ages all the doctors of
Christendom were perfectly united in holding that the earth stood
still, and that sun, moon, and stars revolved around it; and so the
Church of Rome is perfectly united in the worship she pays the Virgin
Mary, and the implicit faith she cherishes in the sacrifice of the
mass. But in her case, as in the others referred to, light introduced
breaks up the false harmony, and evolves a powerful discord. Paul
threw a handful of living sunbeams on Ephesus; the gospel was made to
bear on the population of Jerusalem by the apostle of the
circumcision; and the demonstrations of Galileo descended on the
dogged resistance of the Vatican, and unity gave way to division at
the moment that error gave way to truth.

The unity of the Church of Rome is, in the next place, the product of
compulsion. It is that of the iceberg. All heterogeneous substances
are compressed into one mass, not by the sweet attractions of
homogeneous elements ab intra, but by the compression of all
antagonist materials ab extra. It lasts as long as it is unvisited by
light and warmth, but dissolves and separates as soon as the genial
sunbeams fall upon it. In Spain no other faith dare be professed. In
Rome protestantism is treason. No wonder there is an external and
apparent unity. Bayonets are far more effective quellers of discord
than the Thirty-nine Articles. Hands are therefore united, while the
hearts they belong to are at the antipodes of each other. The Church
of Rome in fact confounds unity and uniformity; and for this latter,
which never has been, and never can be secured in the physical,
moral, or spiritual world, she has sacrificed hecatombs of holy men,
and furnished the elements of that solemn and ever-resuscitated
testimony against her, FOX'S BOOK OF MARTYRS.

The Apocalyptic cage of unclean beasts and birds is the meet symbol
of the Church of Rome. These are merely coercion without, and
corruption within; a scene
"Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds
Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things,
Abominable, unutterable, and worse
Than fables yet have feigned or fear conceived,
Gorgons, and hydras, and chimeras dire."

Let me here avail myself of the opportunity of impressing upon all
protestants the necessity of greater and more cordial unanimity.
Never was Christian union more urgently required. Never were the
prospects of such concord more brilliant. United truth must prevail
against conspiring heresy; but divided brethren will barely maintain
their ground. We do not ask protestants to compromise principles in
order to secure concord. This were wrong, as it is unnecessary. But
we do beseech them to concede prejudices. This is Christian. Let us
look more intensely at the truths wherein we agree, and less
censoriously at the points wherein we differ. The former are weighty
as gold, the latter lighter than chaff. Our points of coincidence and
compact are as the great mountains; our points of divergence as
molehills. The differences are jots and tittles, and positively
microscopic. Our common faith, common hope, common creed, are mighty
and majestic, as the God that gave them. The sweetest sounds in the
Vatican are our quarrels; the greatest barrier to the conversion of
Roman catholics is our strifes. Let us show them, that though there
are tabernacles, we have yet but one city; that though there are many
streams, we have yet but one river. There are many baskets, but one
bread. There is ONE BODY, and ONE SPIRIT, ONE HOPE, ONE LORD, ONE
FAITH, ONE BAPTISM, ONE GOD and FATHER OF ALL.

Such is the apostolic church. Such let pray and labour to be now.

Another very lofty pretension put forward by the Roman catholic
Church is her ANTIQUITY. She proclaims all protestants to be mere
upstarts, and their church throughout all its sections to lie
offshoots from her.

This objection is specious, but false. Certainly one circumstance is
very presumptive against the claims of the Romish Church, viz. those
doctrines peculiar to her, and in which she differs from us, are not
in the Bible, whereas the very truths she condemns in our creed as
novelties are wholly in the Bible. She withholds the cup from the
laity; we give it: which side is Scriptural? "Drink ye ALL of it," is
a decisive reply. Here, at least, we keep to the ancient practice,
and in this point our faith is the old and apostolic, and that of
Rome the modern. The Church of Rome has determined that the clergy
shall live in perpetual celibacy. The protestant church leaves it
optional. How does Scripture decide? "Peter's WIFE'S mother."
"Marriage is honourable in ALL." "A bishop the husband of one wife."
The very name, "husband bishop," would be an abomination in the eyes
of the Romish hierarchy. Whether worse things do not universally
obtain among them we do not at present inquire. We might go over
every tenet of the papacy, and laying it side by side with a
protestant tenet, demonstrate that our articles and creeds are coeval
and coincident with the Scriptures, and that those of the Church of 
Rome are all posthumous to the apostles, and very many of them not
older than the Council of Trent. This assumption also of the Rornish
Church, and her assault upon us, presumes that the Reformers
constructed a new church. This is a misapprehension. They merely
corrected and purified the old one. They removed the accumulated
layers of rubbish that concealed the beauties of the pearl of great
price. They purified and healed, under God, a leprous church, by
bringing her to her long-lost birth-right, the true Bethesda, the
blood of Jesus. The Reformers did with the papal Church as our Lord
did with the Jewish. They drove out the moneychangers, overturned
their tables, took down the symbols and the records of idolatry, and
hung up visibly before all the everlasting record, "My house shall be
called the house of prayer." We admire not the Reformation for its
own sake, but for the transcendent benefits even its most tempestuous
storms wafted to all lands, and deposited as germs of life and
rudiments of a new and holier faith. Let us never forget that the
Church of Rome received its present shape at the Council of Trent;
and so true is this, that if we were to profess all the ancient
creeds, the Apostolic and the Nicene, and cleave to these alone, we
should be denounced by the Romanists as heretics and schismatics. If
we were to adopt all the articles in the creed of Pope Pius IV.
except papal infallibility, we should yet be heretics. Nay, if we
were to sign that creed to-day, and the pope to-morrow to send forth
a new article of faith, we should still be heretics, unless we
received the last with the same faith and confidence with which we
receive the gospel. Nothing short of our frustrating judgment,
conscience, senses, and all we are and have, at the footstool of a
deified hierarch, will be tolerated. The Church of Rome is a new and
upstart communion, built up of the spoils of religion, reason, human
right, and social affection. In the protestant churches alone, we
hail and revere the grey hairs of age and of ancient times, and we
rise and venerate the august and holy form. All that our Reformers
did, and all we desire to do, is to detach the meretricious finery
and fantastic rags wherewith the Lady of Babylon has decked out the
church, and marred her fair aspect, and present her as the apostles
did, bright with the signatures of primeval truth, arrayed in the
robes and adorned by the likeness of Jesus, and inlaid with the inner
glories of the Holy Spirit.

The Church of Rome will twit us with the question, If our articles be
erroneous, tell us when and where they were introduced. We can tell
when they were not, and pretty clearly when they were introduced. But
if we were unable to lay down the dates of their rise, this inability
would not prove they were Scriptural. Was the Nile non-existent when
geographers could not state the longitude, latitude, and locality of
its spring-head. Who can tell what Rabbi introduced the successive 
superstitions of the Jews? The Reformation had respect not to the
date of the error, but to the error itself.

Let it also be observed that error does not flash upon the world,
broad, palpable, and at once. It creeps in by stealth, under a
variety of shapes and ever-adjusting chameleon colours. Truth, like
the fabled Minerva, comes at once and in full glory from above; error
dares not do so. Hence it is easy to mark the introduction of a great
truth, but it is not so easy to trace the commencement of an
ultimately overshadowing heresy. It is sufficient for us to know that
these dogmas, on which popes and councils have struck, with their
mightiest pressure, the counterpart of infallibility, never bore the
image and the superscription of the Son of God. But it is unnecessary
to enter into elaborate proofs that ours is the primeval faith.
History with its thousand tongues attests it; revelation with its
one, but decisive, voice attests it.

It may not be, in closing these remarks, an uninteresting or
unimportant inquiry, What has been the result of all the persecutions
the church has endured from the first martyr Abel to the present
time? We venture to assert, that in every instance it has been proved
that the blood of martyrs is the seed of the church. Persecution
purifies, never mars the church.

That we may obtain a satisfactory view of the successive combats
which have taken place, let us take a retrospective glance at the
records of their time and their locality, and we shall find that not
only has the wholesale result of the past been favourable to the
cause of Heaven, but that in every single struggle the serpent's head
has received an additional bruise, though the heel of the woman's
seed may not have got off unscathed. We shall find that the kingdom
of Jesus in consequence of persecution has been impeded in its march
athwart the length and breadth of the world, but at the same time
that blows have been dealt to the tempter's sway and prospects, from
which he has not easily rallied. What makes the upshot of every onset
with the persecutor more delightful to the Christian soldier, is the
fact that the very schemes which the serpent devised and set in
operation for the overthrow of the kingdom of heaven have been
inverted, and made to hasten the ruin of his own. Let us allude to
some proofs of this, furnished by the word of God.

When Cain, the first papal hierarch, hurried on by the author of
evil, lifted up his hand and slew his righteous and believing
brother, the first protestant martyr, the readiest presumption is,
that the cause of God and its advocate suffered, while that of Satan
and his servant prevailed. Death, the curse and the consequence of
sin, fastens first on a child of God, and passes by a child of the
devil. But from this persecution, so painful, two important lessons
were deduced. Adam and Eve were convinced that sin was a much more
fearful thing than they had previously supposed it to be, and were
thereby led to appreciate and admire more fully that promise of mercy
and those typical indices of a coming Saviour which had been
revealed. The keener our perception of guilt, the deeper is our
admiration of the blood that washes it
away. But a tangible instance was also given of God's punishment of
sin. It would have been mercy to Cain had the knife that entered the
bosom of his brother started upward, and buried itself in his own;
but a severer doom descended on his head; he was branded as a
criminal, and driven with restless and reluctant foot to proclaim to
the gathering multitudes of posterity the Almighty's hatred of
iniquity, and his immovable pmpose to visit with severe chastisement
them that perpetrate it. While the promise, on the one hand,
whispered in the ears of mankind that there was mercy in heaven, and
thus prevented despair, Cain, the wandering herald of wrath, the
visible proof of punishment following the footsteps of guilt,
proclaimed that in heaven there was holiness, and justice, and truth,
and thereby made men careful not to presume. From this scene there
arose a fore-reflected shadow of that righteous One, who came to his
own, and his own received him not; whose blood, nevertheless,
speaketh better things than the blood of Abel; for while the latter
cried to Heaven for vengeance, the former cries at this moment for
mercy upon them who have shed it, and "crucified the Lord of glory,
and put him to an open shame."

Satan, the determined persecutor, did not account his discomfiture
ground of despair. He began the work of contagion with increased
vigour; and so successful were his desolating efforts, that all who
dwelt upon the earth became subject to his sway, and apostates from
Heaven, with the exception of eight "faithful among the faithful
few." But here his victory was not destined to yield much or abiding
joy; for by the righteous judgments of God his myrmidons were swept
from the bosom of the earth, and the followers of holiness and truth
alone were left. From this occurrence a new lesson respecting the
mode of God's dealings with men was elicited, namely, that there is
an accepted time and a day of salvation, at the close of which mercy
retires, and judgment occupies her place. There was also presented to
the believer a type of that better Ark, Jesus Christ the Saviour. in
whom the church is to be borne in safety across the turmoils and
troubles of earth, the billows of Satan's wrath, and the descending
showers of judgment, which shall overwhelm a guilty and a godless
world. In this matter the heel of the woman's seed was wounded, but
the head of the serpent was bruised.

In the history of Joseph and his brethren we have truth amid
persecution exhibiting again.

Just because the image of his God shone forth in him with conspicuous
splendour, because his words, and works, and ways were ordered
according to the will of his heavenly Father, his wicked and envious
brethren, acting as the missionaries of Satan, conspired against his
life. His trials and temptations were strong as his integrity was
great. He was abandoned by his brothers, sold as a slave, consigned
to a dungeon, tempted by a sensual woman, and after all these
thrustings of Satan at him, and through him at righteousness and
truth, he came forth more than conqueror through Him that loved him.
The firmness of Joseph amid his sore temptations proved that in the
true child of God there is a principle superior to all the charms of
earth, and even in this estranged world a prosperous termination to a
life of virtue, which never applies to a life of vice. The very
machinations which Satan instituted, with a view to destroy Joseph,
were made conducive to the temporal as well as the spiritual welfare
of the people of God, aud, more suprising issue still, to the
conquest, but the saving conquest, of those his brethren who had so
unmerci fully dealt with him. The patriarch Joseph was, by Satan's
instrumentality, made an illustrious type of Jesus Christ, who gave
his life for those who condemned him to die, and fed with the bread
of life his brethren who denied him a place whereon to lay his head.
In this case the heel of the woman's seed was bruised a little, in
consequence of Joseph's early sufferings; but the head of the serpent
was bruised by the felicitous end to which all things connected with
him came. When in the providence of God the children of Israel were
subjected to the bondage of Egypt, and when Satan had been permitted
to lord it over Pharaoh so far as to drive him to the most barbarous
measures, that he might extirpate the seed of the woman, as contained
in the church of Israel, we find that the very plans which tended
ostensibly to accomplish the destruction of the people of God
contributed really to their ultimate advancement and well-being. The
cause of God appeared to be in the utmost jeopardy, for it depended
on a babe persecuted by Pharaoh, committed to an ark of bulrushes,
and left to float upon the waves of the Nile; but what was the
result? The household of Pharaoh, the flower of Satan's chivalry,
were, contrary to their expectation or desire, made the instruments
of bruising their master's head, and touching scarcely their
adversary's heel; for the daughter of Pharaoh rescued and educated
the child that was to be the minister of judgment to the first-born
of their native land, and eventually to bury in the Red Sea the
chariots, and horse, and men of war. The infatuated pursuers of the
children of God were overwhelmed by the collapse of the waters of the
Red Sea, and driven to the regions of eternal darkness, to bear the
tidings of defeat to its despot, and to present another
instance of the fruitlessness of coping with Omnipotence. But Satan
was not to be discouraged; he followed them through the wilderness,
and made an extensive havoc. But if the church's sufferings were
great, her hopes were proportionably bright; her course was onward,
amid the most exhilarating promises and the most expressive types. If
we proceed adown the stream of time, we shall discern in the
biography of David another illustration of the church's bruised heel,
and of the serpent's bruised head. The shepherd king put forth to do
battle with opposing principalities, and to bring down spiritual
wickedness on high places, anointed, sealed, and separated, was made,
in a peculiar manner, the object of Satan's attacks, as he was in a
high degree the subject of God's grace. He was persecuted to the edge
of ruin. He fell once and again; but "greater was He that was for him
than all that could be against him." He proved himself,
notwithstanding, a polished shaft in the hands of Heaven, a monument
of mercy possible to the chiefest of repentant sinners, and a most
striking type of that best "Beloved," who summed up in his single
character the scattered excellences, and excluded all the blemishes,
of those that went before him. If we were to go over the lives of the
ancient men who were commissioned in succession to add their
respective light to the brightening dawn that ultimately burst forth
into noon-day, we should find that the sins and short-comings, into
which the serpent dragged them, so far from furthering the cause of
spiritual darkness, contributed to its overthrow, in virtue of that
sleepless superintendency of the great Head of the church, which has
ever made the wrath of man to praise him. The weapons which the enemy
brought into the field turned their points against himself, and
disabled them that brandished them. The heel of the woman's seed was
no doubt bruised, for the march of truth was retarded, and the
terminating conquests of its advocates put a little further off in
the world's history; but what the Redeemer's kingdom lost in time it
gained in extent, what it lost in speed it gained in glory; and the
longer still its progress is opposed, the more comprehen sive and
brilliant its final triumphs will assuredly be.

It is the peculiar characteristic of great and true principles to
advance slowly and firmly, and to strike their roots deeply before
they spread their branches. But the never to be forgotten field on
which Satan's head received its direst bruise, and his cause its most
desolating shock, was the field of the most formidable persecution,
viz., Bethlehem, Gethsemane, and Calvary. Little did the devil
imagine that all his attacks were to be stepping-stones to Christ;
little did he dream that the apparatus he had prepared for the
extirpation of the church was to be wrenched from its intended scope,
and to be made subservient to the cause he hated and struggled to
overwhelm. Little did he anticipate that the blight he had
superinduced upon the spiritual and physical creation, and the
eclipse he had brought on the glory of God, as far as it shone on
this remote planet, was destined to be made the basis of a more
magnificent and felt exhibition of all the attributes of Heaven, and
of a more exalted elevation of the fallen creature. Jesus Christ, the
Root and the Offspring of David, the eternal Son of God, came down
from the hills of the heavenly land, where the tear of sorrow never
dropped, where the cry of want was never heard, and dwelt in flesh as
in a tabernacle, and wandered on this polluted earth, and wept, a
pilgrim and a stranger, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.
Yet did he present himself also as a Leader and a Captain on that
battle field, on which the destinies of unborn millions were
gathered, to rise or to sink as he should conquer or give way. He
entered on the scene of action through the varieties of being which
usher in the multitudes of human kind. He was in the womb, and
dandled on the knees of a mother; he was a boy and a stripling like
one of us; and out of all these estates of life he came into that of
perfect manhood, untouched even by the instantaneous transit of a
sinful feeling or imagination. Oh what a contrast was there between
the young Messias and Adam's young descendants, his coevals! In the
one was inherent infinitely more than Adam's loftiest excellence, but
in the others were developed the accumulated consequences of Adam's
guilt. Here was one whom no sinful pursuits could seduce, whose heart
was impervious to the devil's temptations and the world's guilt,
whose conformity to his Father's will was not to be lessened by any
sublunary force. No doubt Satan knew that the great bruiser of his
head was come, and if he remained inactive, it was the inactivity of
wonder and dismay; it was the fearful pause that intervenes between
the strong resolve and the contingency of irretrievable ruin, the
agonizing interlude of conflicting motives, which tear the heart in
opposite directions. At last he decided to present the front of a
persevering opposition, and to improve every probability of victory
the instant it should appear. He saw Jesus led out in the
arrangements of Heaven to that wilderness which had witnessed the
fastings of Moses and Elijah of old, and here he resolved to track
his footsteps, and to try his constancy in every practicable way.
Here was presented the sacred arena of a second spiritual contest, on
the issues of which the fate of humanity hung. In the first assault
which Satan made on Adam, amid the loveliness of Eden, and with the
right to its fruits and flowers, and countless immunities, with no
sensations of hunger, and no possibility of want, with little
incentive to disobey, and every motive to obey, our first progenitor
fell, and entailed on his posterity the numerous "ills that flesh is
heir to;" but the Son of God, suffering the gnawings of protracted
hunger, and bearing all along, from his Cradle upward, the imputed
guilt and deserved penalties of man, stood untarnished, and upheld
himself in infinite spotlessness. Before the Son the old serpent
stood; and by calling in question his omnipotence, and appealing to
the faintness of his bodily frame, endeavoured to involve in doubts
the faithfulness and the providence of his heavenly Father. Jesus,
however, repelled the temptation as soon as it was presented, by
merging all present sensations, and directing even the fallen angel's
attention to the protestant's rule of faith, the word of God: "It is
written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that
proceedeth from the mouth of God." Satan seeing that the Son of
Joseph was set on a high design, and superior to the urgency of
nature's calls when they might not be lawfully answered, shifts the
points of attack, and plies him with such arguments as his apparent
destitution of means and his meditated enterprise could naturally
suggest. He offered him the kingdoms of this world and their glory,
the wealth of Rome, the experience of her courts and the prowess of
her ablest Champions, to enable him to become the worlds emperor. He
showed him many a fair champaign, and many a glebe, productive of oil
and wine, the necessaries and luxuries of life; and with these he
invited him to contrast the fountainless desert and the barren earth,
his present and only possession; and all he asked in return for these
gifts was, what so great resources seemed justly to challenge, the
recognition of his lordship, and right to the homage of men and the
territories of the world, "Get thee behind me, Satan; it is written,
Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and Him only shalt thou serve,"
wasthe reply of the Son of God. Satan was overcome, and the Redeemer,
pained, it is true, by the very hearing of the tempter's blasphemy,
was undisputed victor. Abaddon fell like lightnthg from heaven. Hell
felt her empire narrowing, and gathering inward to the Centre, and
Jesus proceeded to follow up the conquest he had won, by expelling
the devils from the bosoms of men, controlling the winds and waves,
the troubles and diseases of the human family, and inculcating the
principles of love, and mercy, and truth. But the powers of darkness
concentrated again their wiles, and by the instrumentality of the
Jews put in operation every conceivable design against the life and
growing influence of the Son of Joseph. All the sophistry of the
lawyers was enlisted on the side of Satan, and many a perplexing case
of casuistry propounded. "Is it lawful to give tribute to Calsar?"
The reply was as admirable as the question was involved. "Moses in
the law commanded us that such as this woman,who was taken in
adultery, should be stoned; but what sayest thou?" These and many
more were the meshes in which they endeavoured to entangle the
Redeemer. At length they got Judas, one of the twelve, to betray him;
Peter, another of the twelve, to deny him; Pilate, the Roman
governor, to deliver him up; and his countrymen, the Jews, to put him
to a painful and ignominious death. No doubt, when the Divine
antagonist of the powers of evil hung on the accursed tree, in agony
of soul and body inconceivable, the gloom of hell was lightened by a
transient gleam of malignant hope, and the countenances of the damned
smoothed with a momentary smile, as there was now an expectancy that
he who had the keys of hell, and death, and the grave was crushed,
and the power of going in and coming out permitted them for ever.
Satan, racked on the wheel, because of former failures and
discomfiture, gathered courage yet again, and felt almost sure that
the reins of universal sovereignty were lodged in his hands; and when
he saw the Redeemer taken from the cross to the tomb, when he saw the
sun set and the sepulchre sealed, and the fearless warriors of Rome
appointed to sentinel the spot, he doubted not that all was his own;
though the remembrance of ancient prophecies fulfilled, and the
Saviour's exertion of supernatural power in the last tremors of
dissolution, shaded at intervals his brightest hopes. The second day
dawned and closed, and all was still; but scarcely had the sun of the
succeeding day reached the horizon, when the hearts of the Roman
veterans quailed, and helplessness fell upon them and made them as
dead men. The massive stone was rolled aside from the sepulchre, and
the grave's long grasp of man was relaxed; the winding-sheet, the
napkins, and the other pale insignia of death, were left behind, to
demonstrate his reign at length terminated, and the Redeemer rose and
ascended on high, leading captivity captive, and ready to give gifts
unto men. Satan's schemes were baffled, his hopes were blasted, death
and the grave, his ancient allies, were stripped of their sting and
their triumph, and bitter remorse and fell despair were his only
company. What made the devil's defeat trebly galling and disastrous,
the very plans he had devised and put in operation were made to
recoil upon himself, and to expedite the very results which he feared
and struggled to avert. The machinery he set in motion to perpetuate
darkness evolved more glorious light; the emissaries he employed to
add to death, and all our woe, unwittingly diffused life and
immortality, and more enduring joys. From Jesus' sufferings man's
salvation sprung, and from his death our eternal life, and from his
resurrection our destined mastery of all the powers of earth and
hell, and entrance into everlasting blessedness. Hell's gloom grew
deeper, and the despair of its fallen spirits more fearful; its worm
that never dies began to make wider havoc, and its fire which is
never quenched to burn with more intensity.

Satan, though driven to the verge of utter despair, determined not to
remain inactive. He felt that if he could not entirely destroy the
Son of God, and the children whom the Father had given him, he might
vex them, and impair their peace. After he had raised the Jews, from
Dan to Beersheba, against the unbefriended preachers of the cross,
and driven the first converts before him to the remotest provinces of
the Roman empire, he found that this dispersion, instead of
arresting, hastened the march of Christianity over the surface of the
world, and struck its doctrines deeper in the hearts of its
persecuted sticklers. Anxious, therefore, to suppress the gospel in
provinces beyond the boundaries of Judea, he enlisted in this his
foreign service a bold and a reckless missionary, whose name was Saul
of Tarsus. His hot passions, his fervid eloquence, and his
determination to do and to dare to any extent in the service of
error, and in opposition to the truth, seemed to the serpent to
prognosticate no ordinary havoc among the unresisting "men of the
way," as the disciples were frequently called. Little did Satan know
that he was in this matter deepening his own catastrophe; little did
he expect that this polished shaft, which he had culled from the
ranks of intellect, would be inverted and made to quiver in his own
bosom; little did he expect that the powers of reasoning and
impassioned oratory which Paul possessed would soon play against the
bulwarks of the kingdom of darkness, and contribute mainly to its
overthrow. But such was the issue. Paul was snatched from the service
of hell, and arrayed under the banners of heaven; and was more
instrumental in shaking idols on their pedestals, and idolaters even
on their thrones, than all the college of apostles besides. Satan was
foiled again. The heel of the woman's seed was wounded, but the head
of the serpent was severely bruised. He did not yet give over, but
marshalled his devoted bands, and placed them on the battle field. He
saw the apostles and the other preachers of the truth going forth
with the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, and the
shield of faith, and the helmet of hope, and the other spiritual
weapons of a spiritual warfare, to make new conquests over sin, and
fresh accessions to the gospel of Christ. Against them he brought out
a phalanx sufficient to abash all but those who know that God is on
their side; a phalanx composed of the 'learned philosophers ot
Greece, to grapple with the untutored fishermen of Galilee; the
wealthy potentates and magistrates of Rome, to confront the needy and
naked preachers of the cross; and the eagle ensign of the western
empire, that had flapped its victorious wings over thousands of the
fallen brave, and the colours that had waved in the four winds of the
earth, to meet the banner of the cross, the motto of which was, "My
kingdom is not of this world." His phalanx was composed of malignant
Jews, ready to burn the servants as they had crucified the Master; of
debased voluptuaries, who could not bear the streams of their
enjoyment to be stemmed; and of interested craftsmen, who were ready
to shout with greater or less intensity, according to the risk their
craft was exposed to, "Great is Diana of the Ephesians." The records
of Christianity declare what numbers sealed their testimony with
their blood, and entered into their rest from excruciating pains and
bitterest bereavements. Here the serpent seemed to prevail; but what
was the ultimate effect? The blood of the martyrs became the seed of
the church. From the momentary victory of Satan, from the thousands
he dragged to the altars of superstition, and immolated there, we
deduce the most satisfactory proofs of the sincerit of the first
apostles of the truth and of the Divine origin of those principles
they taught. No second causes are sufficient to account for the rapid
diffusion of Christianity, or for the fact that it remained, like the
burning bush on Horeb, unconsumed by the flames that surrounded it.
Our holy faith descends to us impressed with a tenfold more powerful
demonstration than any system, or history, or circumstance in the
world's annals; and, admirable instrumentality! Satan, its most
bitter adversary, has been the unexpected means of accomplishing this
result. The storm he raised, while indeed it disturbed the followers
of the Lamb, whistled nevertheless with most disastrous fury amid the
habitations, the temples, and the shrines which were dearest to him;
and the streams of blood he shed undermined his kingdom, and sapped
the deepest foundations of his throne. Satan, unable to crush
Christianity in its cradle, determined to harass its professors and
its preachers to the uttermost, He therefore went the round of all
the churches in Asia Minor, and sowed among them the most pestilent
errors and destructive heresies; and when he saw the extensive
success with which his efforts were crowned, he imagined that the
scale was for ever turned in his favour. If he could not stem the
streams of living waters, he resolved to intermix with them the most
fatal poisons. But here again he failed, and here again the antidote
administered by Heaven proved more extensively useful than the poison 
proved deleterious. The apostles saw the thickening delusions in
which their converts were enveloped, and with a view to dissipate
them wrote those admirable Epistles which are now embodied in the
records of inspired truth. Satan had induced the Roman brethren to
corrupt the fundamental article of the Christian creed, justification
by faith; but Paul, to vindicate its value, and to open up its
nature, wrote the Epistle to the Romans. Again, the efforts of
Judaizing teachers to leaven the doctrines of the gospel with the
obsolete rites of Moses, and to make the mixture essential to
salvation, drew forth the Epistle to the Galatians, in which the
apostle strips the truth of every earthy accretion, and places the
distinctive features of the Christian scheme in the most satisfactory
and triumphant light. Again, Satan engaged his servants to persecute
and vex the Christian brethren scattered throughout the Roman empire;
but the consequence was the composition of those rich and consolatory
Epistles of Peter, and John, and James, which have ever been the
exhaustless well-springs of the sweetest comfort to the suffering
children of God. The devil made way for God's abounding joys to his
people. Hell prepared this fittest opportunity for Heaven to shower
down blessings co-extensive with the wants and existence of the human
race. It is delightful to see the arrows shot by Satan against the
children of God rebound and penetrate himself, and every step he took
against the woman's seed increase his own discomfiture, and every
stone he brought to build withal the temple of darkness, taken from
him, cut and prepared for a place in the temple of light, and every
weapon he brought into the field wrenched from his hands, and added
to the arinoury of heaven.

Had Satan never vexed the churches with heresy and cruel havoc, we
had not, humanly speaking, been favoured with the most important
books of the Bible. The wrath of hell, as well as the wrath of man,
shall be restrained, and the remainder of it made to praise God. Let
the powers of earth and darkness combine together against the Lord,
and against his Anointed; let all their energies be summoned into
play, and all their plans brought into operation; and at that very
moment when the wreath of victory is ready to encircle them, and the
seal of success ready to be set, the scene shall be changed, and the
foreordained purposes of God shall evolve, and twist the apparatus
and machinery of Satan so entirely to their subserviency and
accomplishments, that uninformed spectators cannot help supposing
that Satan has all along been lending his best efforts to the cause
of God, and to the furtherance of every Christian virtue. At length
Constantine threw the shield of temporal and imperial power around
and above Christianity, throughout the Roman territories. The devil
felt that this state provision for the clergy might lengthen the
cords and strengthen the stakes of Zion, and contribute to the more
speedy dissolution of his kingdom. He therefore meditated deeply and
long, with a view to neutralize such good effects as must flow from
the new recognition which the church had received. After much
meditation and conference, he hit upon his masterpiece, the papacy.
Persecution was a blunder in Satan's policy; Arianism was also a
blunder; for these, instead of benefiting, injured his cause. He now
resolved to uproot Christianity no longer by an open andingenuous
warfare, but by stratagem, and deep manceuvring within the camp, he
determined to deal his bitterest stabs in the garb of a friend. Being
convinced that the Pantheon could no longer be filled with the
statues of Jupiter, and Mars, and Venus, he zealously emptied their
niches, and placed in their stead those of Paul, and Peter, and the
Virgin Mary, and many more saints, who never had a local habitation
and a name before. He baptized the idols, the rites and temples of
pagan Rome, and found for them a welcome reception in the Vatican,
and among the bishops, priests, and monks, and friars that acted
under its power. He just coloured over paganism with the outward
tints of Christianity, and thereby formed popery; a religion which
bears less relationship to true Christianity, than the gilded bauble
to articles composed of pure and solid gold. It was indeed a cunning
contrivance. Satan took the temples, and the shrines, and the priests
set up to propagate Christian truth, and anointed them to destroy and
debase it. Under the covert of zeal for the glory of God and the
salvation of men he reared the Inquisition, and martyred saints in
every land. With hands reeking with the blood of holy men, he went to
the house of prayer with attendant and professed ministers of Jesus,
and gave thanks to God that he had fulfilled his promise, "Lo! I am
with you to the end of the world;" and, "The gates of hell shall not
prevail against you."

Nothing indicates the deceit of Satan or the blindness of men more
clearly, than the fact that the devil was allowed to seal up the
Bible under the pretence of its tendency to mislead men, and to keep
them in the most palpable darkness, lest peradventure they should die
through the excess of the light and the wisdom of God. Has Satan
nevertheless triumphed here, and escaped unscathed? We say no. The
Book of Martyrs is a living witness that the power of religion,
during the iron reign of the papacy, was exemplified most gloriously
in the sufferings of faithful men; and the constancy, to death, of
the Albigenses and the Waldenses showed, that even in the last
extremities of darkness and desolation, light is sown for the
righteous. As the manna that descended from heaven, and the waters
that gushed from the riven rock, bespoke to the children of Israel
the love and the presence of God even in the wilderness; in like
manner the refreshment of the spiritual heritage, in the midst of
Babylon, proclaimed most clearly that a mother may forget the child
she bare, but that his church never can be forgotten nor forsaken of
Jehovah, that she is engraven on the palms of his hands, and nearest
and dearest to him. But we believe that the bondage of the church in
mystic Babylon, during the middle ages, was a meant punishment,
inflicted perhaps for her pride and forgetfulness of her Deliverer
when the sword of persecution was sheathed. At all events, there
cannot be a doubt that the church has learned lessons from her
fearful condition at that time which will not be soon erased from her
memory. Experience teaches communities, as well as individuals, best.
We are now armed at all points against the evils of hell. We know him
alike in the garb of a friend and in the garb of a foe. We will now
prize more highly that blessed book which he shut so widely. We will
now value and cherish those pure truths which apostles instituted,
and the venerable Reformers revived. A season of darkness is often
the precursor of a season of more glorious light. The long day of
moral paralysis is followed often by a more vigorous and
uninterrupted period of exertion. Perhaps the church must live under
the same law as individual members of it. The smile will appear only
where mourning has been. The waters of life roll only in the channels
that have been made by a flood of tears. At all events, at the period
of the Reformation, the church came forth from her wilderness
condition "bright as the sun, fair as the moon, and terrible as an
army with banners," enriched with additional experience of the enmity
of Satan and the plans he pursues to destroy her. We grant that Satan
prevailed awhile during the reign of the papacy; but we assert that
the Reformation quaslled his power and bruised his head, and brought 
the church from her imprisonment, with her heel bruised very sore to
be sure, but soon again to be healed, and her pace athwart the
regions of the globe to be accelerated in an unprecedented degree.
The pressure being removed, Christianity rose up with an elasticity
and onward movement that astonished and confounded Satan, while it
delighted all its advocates. With one simultaneous burst printing was
discovered, Bible Societies organized, and the universe made eloquent
again with the mighty motives and appeals of uncorrupted truth;
missionaries were sent forth, and the whole Christian church animated
with a spirit of exertion more than proportionate to its former
apathy. Thus baffled, he had recourse again to the assistance of
undisguised infidelity, and has succeeded in gaining to his side the
subtle powers of Hume and Diderot, and the sarcastic genius of
Voltaire, and the splendid but hollow descriptions of Gibbon. But the
misrepresentations and the sophistry with which these men have
without exception essayed to overthrow the doctrines of the Bible
have all been met and repelled, and the truth has come forth like
fine gold from the furnace, more brilliant than before its trials and
testings began, and Satan's machinations have again been made to
recoil and destroy his cause. The sun in the firmament, by the
intensity of his beams, draws between him and us vapours and clouds,
which seem for a while to intercept his influences, and to threaten
the earth with barrenness and darkness; but presently the same sun
dissolves them into gentle showers, which fertilize the soil, and
cool the air, and promote the growth of vegetation on all sides. In
the same way the Sun of righteousness, by his very brilliancy,
exhales clouds of infidels, and atheists, and sceptics, whose
writings are met by mightier arguments, and the truths thus called
into question are exhibited in clearer light, and cherished with
warmer feelings of regard. Since the Reformation Satan has brought no
new stratagem into the field. In fact, hisingenuity seems entirely
exhausted, his imagination paralyzed, and his resources done, and
this bitter conviction left him, -- that all he has achieved has
served but to hasten and to deepen his final catastrophe.

We gather this consolation from the review we have laid before you,
and from the serpent's recent recurrence to obsolete and defeated
schemes, that he can bring no new device against us, that he can
discover no vantage ground which he has not already occupied. He
looks at his quiver, it is empty. He looks to his counsellors, they
are in despair. He looks at death, its sting is gone. He looks at the
grave, its strength and its triumph are dissipated. He looks to the
past, and he sees only blasted hopes and foiled attempts, and
fountains of pain, and sorrow, and remorse. He looks to the future,
and he espies a gathering glory he cannot tarnish, and an approaching
victory he cannot impede, and in his own case a fearful inheritance
of burning, and blackness, and agony he cannot avert. All he can do
at present is to ply the old instruments, and bait his hook with
former seductions. His head is deeply bruised. He is giddy, on the
edge of inevitable ruin. Let us go forward, fellow Christians; a gulf
of ruin will soon entomb our foe, and a land of bliss imbosom our
spirits. Let us lift our eyes and our hearts towards the hills from
whence comes our aid, and towards the God of battles, unto whom the
shields of the earth do belong, and resist boldly, and Satan will
flee; for he is a vanquished enemy, he bites the dust. Never more
shall he lord it over the Messiah's heritage. The distant isles of
the ocean, and the far-spread continents of the world, and all
kindreds, and tribes, and tongues, shall yet come forth from the
darkness of spiritual death, and from the fetters of the devil's
despotism, and subscribe themselves by the name of Jesus. The
symptoms of the ruin of Satan's kingdom already appear. The crescent
of the Ottoman wanes fast. The triple crown sits loosely on the head
of the man of sin, and the thunder stamp of revolution is heard at
the doors of the Vatican, and the lightning gleams of truth, made
more vivid by long opposition, are seen and felt in the darkest
chambers of the Inquisition. A spirit of awakenment seems to have
arrested the Jew, and a wider and more cordial welcome of the cross
to have touched the heart of the Gentile. We tread upon the fallen,
though yet unextinguished, body of the enemy. We have only to read
the venerable annals of Fox to see that we move across the ground
that is strewed with the trophies of former victories, and
consecrated by the blood of holy martyrs, and hallowed by the
resting-places of their earthly remains, and smoothed and made even
by the pioneers of the cross that have preceded us to glory. Jesus,
the Captain of our faith, and the noble army of martyrs that took up
their cross and followed him, have already borne the brunt of the
battle, and formed a rampart by their graves, that we may stand
behind their shelter and gather the remaining laurels of spiritual
conquest. From the first century even to the present, the successive
ranks of believers have undergone vicarious substitution for them
that have followed, "each stepping where his comrade stood the
instant that he fell," and have thus, at the expense of their blood
and comfort, left us less opposition to be met in our course to
glory. Let us therefore wrap around us the mantles they have left
behind them in their flight to immortality, and, animated by their
example, and above all by the example of the Author and the Finisher
of our faith, let us neither slacken our efforts nor curb our zeal
till the church shine forth in her millennial glory, or we
individually enter into "the rest that remains for the people of
God." Only let us remember, that besides the conflict that is waged
in the world without, there must be a stiffer tug of battle carried
on in the bosom within. We must remember that none can enter the
ranks of the redeemed warriors around, who cannot exhibit the
unquestionable proofs of victory gained in the bosom within. While
Satan battles it out in the open arena of earth against the
prevalence and progress of Heaven's truth, his zeal is also as hot
and his struggles as incessant for the mastery of a single heart, as
for the mastery of the whole church. To us personally it matters
little whether the cross or the crescent is uppermost, whether hell
or heaven triumphs, if we are yet in the gall of bitterness and in
the bond of iniquity. We must bruise the serpent's head in our own
bosoms before we can contribute to bruise his head in the world. Our
life is not a life of peace, nor ease, nor retirement; but a life of
conflict, and of struggle, and of watchfulness. Time is the hour of
battle, and eternity is the hour of triumph; earth is the
battlefield, and heaven is the victor's home; the cross is our
companion now, and the crown our prize hereafter. We feel the
serpent's life within, but feel we not the Spirit's life more
powerful still? We must feel the foul current of poisoned waters
coming in contact with the streams of purity and love, but thanks be
to God through Jesus Christ we shall be more than conquerors through
him that loved us. Let us break the fetters that bind to the ways and
works of earth, for the Spirit and strength of Omnipotence are with
us; let us be slaves no more. Be ye freemen whom the truth makes
free. Soon the struggle will be done, and the head of the serpent
will be bruised, and amid the opening climes of heaven we shall see
our glorified relations, and friends, and long-lost comrades in the
contest, stretching forth their hands to welcome us to the mansions
which the Saviour has prepared in his Father% house. "Now unto Him
that is able to keep us from falling, and to present us faultless
before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy, to the only wise
God our Saviour, be glory and majesty, dominion and power, both now
and ever." Amen.



THE FIRST BOOK
THE ACTS AND MONUMENTS, CONTAINING THE THREE HUNDRED YEARS NEXT AFTER
CHRIST, WITH THE TEN PERSECUTIONS OF THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH.

1. FOREWORD
(Illustration: The Crucifixion of Christ )
BY THE GRACE AND SPEED OF CHRIST OUR LORD, WE WOULD DISCOURSE, IN
PARTICULAR SORT, THE ACTS AND DOINGS OF EVERY AGE BY ITSELF, IN THE
FOLLOWING ORDER:

To declare, first, the suffering time of the church,which containeth
about the space of three hundred years after Christ.

Secondly, The flourishing and growing time of the same, containing
other three hundred years.

Thirdly, The declining time of the church, and of true religion,
other three hundred years.

Fourthly, Of the time of antichrist, reigning and raging in the
church since the loosing of Satan.

Lastly, of the reforming time of Christ's church, in these latter
three hundred years.

In the tractation of all which things our chief purpose and endeavour
shall be, (so near as the Lord will give us grace,) not so much to
intermeddle withoutward affairs of princes, or matters civil, (except
sometimes for example of life,) as specially minding (by the help of
the Lord) to prosecute such things only which to the ecclesiastical
state of the church are appertaining: as, first, to intreat of the
stablishing of Christian faith; then of the persecutions of tyrants;
the constancy and patience of God's saints; the first conversion of
Christian realms to the faith of Christ, namely, of this realm of
England and Scotland; first beginning with king Lucius and so
forward, following the order of our English kings here in this land;
to declare the maintenance of true doctrine; the false practice of
prelates; the creeping in of superstition and hypocrisy; the manifold
assaults, wars, and tumults of the princes of this world against the
people of God. Wherein may appear the wonderful operation of Christ's
mighty hand, ever working in his church, and never ceasing to defend
the same against his enemies, according to the verity of his own
word, promising to be with his church while the world shall stand; so
as by the process of this story may well be proved, and will be
testified in the sequel thereof.
[Footnote: This purpose of Fox, not to intermeddle with civil and
political questions, many would do well to observe in the present
day. The question between the Church of Rome and the Church of Christ
relates emphatically to souls, to Christ, and to eternity.]

In the tractation of all which things two special points I chiefly
commend to the reader, as most requisite and necessary for every
Christian man to observe and to note for his own experience and
profit: as, first, the disposition and nature of this world;
secondly, the nature and condition of the kingdom of Christ: the
vanity of the one, and establishment of the other: the unprosperous
and unquiet state of the one, ruled by man's violence and wisdom; and
the happy success of the other, ever ruled by God's blessing and
providence: the wrath and revenging hand of God in the one, and his
mercy upon the other. The world I call all such as be without or
against Christ; either by ignorance, not knowing him; or by
heathenish life, not following him; or by violence, resisting him. On
the other side, the kingdom of Christ in this world I take to be all
them which belong to the faith of Christ, and here take his part in
this world against the world; the number of whom, although it be much
smaller than the other, and always lightly is hated and molested of
the world, yet it is the number which the Lord peculiarly doth bless
and prosper, and ever will. And this number of Christ's subjects is
it which we call the visible church here in earth. Which visible
church, having in itself a difference of two sorts of people, so is
it to be divided in two parts, of which the one standeth of such as
be of outward profession only, the other which by election inwardly
are joined to Christ: the first in words and lips seem to honour
Christ, and are in the visible church only, but not in the church
invisible, and partake the outward sacraments of Christ, but not the
inward blessing of Christ; the other are both in the visible and also
in the invisible church of Christ, which not in words only and
outward profession, but also in heart do truly serve and honour
Christ, partaking not only the sacraments, but also the heavenly
blessings and grace of Christ.

And many times it happeneth, that as between the world and the
kingdom of Christ there is a continual repugnance; so between these
two parts of this visible church aforesaid ofttimes groweth great
variance and mortal persecution, insomuch that sometimes the true
church of Christ hath no greater enemies than of their own profession
and company, as happened not only in the time of Christ and his
apostles, but also from time to time almost continually; but
especially in the later days of the church under the persecution of
antichrist and his retinue, as by the reading of this volume more
manifestly hereafter may appear.

At the first preaching of Christ and coming of the gospel, who should
rather have known and received him than the Pharisees and scribes of
that people, which had his law? And yet who persecuted and rejected
him more than they themselves? What followed? They, in refusing
Christ to be their King, and choosing rather to be subject unto
Cæsar, were by the said their own Cæsar at length destroyed; whenas
Christ's subjects the same time escaped the danger. Whereby it is to
be learned what a dangerous thing it is to refuse the gospel of God,
when it is so gently offered.

The like example of God's wrathful punishment is to be noted no less
in the Romans also themselves. For when Tiberius Cæsar, having
received by letters from Pontius Pilate of the doings of Christ, of
his miracles, resurrection, and ascension into heaven, and how he was
received as God of many, was himself also moved with belief of the
same, and did confer thereof with the whole senate of Rome to have
Christ adored as God; they, not agreeing thereunto, refused him,
because that, contrary to the law of the Romans, he was consecrated
(said they) for God before the senate of Rome had so decreed and
approved him, &c. Thus the vain senate, following rather the law of
man than of God, and which were contented with the emperor to reign
over them, and were not contented with the meek King of glory, the
Son of God, to be their King, were after much like sort to the Jews
scourged and entrapped for their unjust refusing, by the same way
which they themselves did prefer. For as they preferred the emperor 
and rejected Christ, so the just permission of God did stir up their
own emperors against them in such sort, that both the senators
themselves were almost all devoured, and the whole city most horribly
afflicted for the spaco almost of three hundred years together. For,
first, the same Tiberius, which for a great part of his reign was a
moderate and a tolerable prince, afterward was to them a sharp and
heavy tyrant, who neither favoured his own mother, nor spared his own
nephews, nor the princes of the city, such as were his own
counsellors, of whom, to the number of twenty, he left not past two
or three alive. Suetonius reporteth him to be so stern of nature and
tyrannical, that in time of his reign very many were accused and
condemned with their wives and chilthen; maids also first defloured,
then put to death, In one day he recordeth twenty persons to be drawn
to the place of execution. By whom also, through the just punishment
of God, Pilate, under whom Christ was crucified, was apprehended and
accused at Rome, deposed, then banished to the town of Lyons, and at
length did slay himself. Neither did Herod and Caiaphas long escape,
of whom more followeth hereafter. Agrippa also by him was east into
prison; albeit afterward he was restored. In the reign of Tiberius,
the Lord Jesus, the Son of God, in the three and thirtieth year of
his age, which was the seventeenth of this emperor, by the malice of
the Jews suffered his blessed passion for the conquering of sin,
death, and Satan, the prince of this world, and rose again the third
day. After whose blessed passion and resurrection this foresaid
Tiberius Nero lived six years, during which time no persecution was
yet stirring in Rome against the Christians, through the commandment
of the emperor.

In the reign also of this emperor, and the year which was the next
after the passion of our Saviour, or somewhat more, anno 35, St. Paul
was converted to the faith. After the death of Tiberius, when he had
reigned three and twenty years, succeeded C. Cæsar Caligula, Claudius
Nero, and Domitius Nero, anno 39; which three were likewise such
scourges to the senate and people of Rome, that the first not only
took other men's wives violently from them, but also defioured three
of his own sisters, and afterward banished them. So wicked he was,
that he commanded himself to be worshipped as God, and temples to be
erected in his name, and used to sit in the temple among the gods,
requiring his images to be set up in all temples, and also in the
temple of Jerusalem, which caused great disturbance among the Jews,
and then began the abomination of desolation to be set up in the holy
place, spoken of in the gospel. His cruel conduct, or else
displeasure, was such towards the Romans, that he wished that all the
people of Rome had but one neck, that he at his pleasure might
destroy such a multitude. By this said Caligula, Herod, the murderer
of John Baptist and condemner of Christ, was condemned to perpetual
banishment, where he died miserably. Caiaphas also, which wickedly
sat upon Christ, was the same time removed from the high priest's
room, and Jonathan set in his place. The raging fierceness of this
Caligula incensed against the Romans had not thus ceased, had not he
been cut off by the hands of a tribune and other gentlemen, which
slew him in the fourth year of his reign. After whose death were
found in his closet two little labels, one called a sword, the other
the dagger; in the which labels were contained the names of those
senators and noblemen of Rome whom he had purposed to put to death.
Besides this sword and dagger, there was found also a coffer, wherein
divers kinds of poison were kept in glasses and vessels for the
purpose to destroy a wonderful number of people; which poisons
afterward, being thrown into the sea, destroyed a great number of
fish.

But that which this Caligula had only conceived, the same did the
other two which came after bring to pass; Claudius Nero, who reigned
thirteen years with no little cruelty; but especially the third of
these Neros, called Domitius Nero, which, sueceeding after Claudius,
reigned fourteen years with such fury and tyranny, that he slew the
most part of the senators, and destroyed the whole order of
knighthood in Rome. So prodigious a monster of nature was he, more
like a beast, yea, rather a devil, than a man, that he seemed to be
born to the destruction of men. Such was his monstrous uncleanness,
that he abstained not from his own mother, his natural sister, nor
from any degree of kindred. Such was his wretched cruelty, that he
caused to be put to death his mother, his brother-in-law, his sister,
his wife great with child, all his instructors, Seneca and Lucan,
with divers more of his own kindred and consanguinity. Moreover, he
commanded Rome to be set on fire in twelve places, and so continued
it five days and seven nights in burning, while that he, to see the
example how Troy burned, sung the verses of Homer. And to avoid the
infamy thereof, he laid the fault upon the Christian men, and caused
them to be persecuted. And so continued this miserable emperor in his
reign fourteen years, till at last the senate proclaiming him a
public enemy unto mankind, condemned him to be drawn through the
city, and to be whipped to death. For the fear whereof, he, flying
the hands of his enemies, in the night fled to a manor of his
servant's in the country, where he was forced to slay himself, 
complaining that he had then neither friend nor enemy left that would
do so much for him. In the latter end of this Domitius Nero Peter and
Paul were put to death for the testimony and faith of Christ.
[Footnote: Some chronologists place the martyrdom of St. Peter and
St. Paul two years later, and some even four.]

Thus ye see, which is worthy to be marked, how the just scourge and
heavy indignation of God from time to time ever followeth there, and
how all things there go to ruin, neither doth any thing well prosper,
where Christ Jesus, the Son of God, is contemned and not received, as
by these examples may appear, both of Romans, which not only were
thus consumed and plagued by their own emperors, but also by civil
wars, whereof three happened in two years at Rome, after the death of
Nero, anno 69, and other casualties, (as in Sueton. is testified,) so
that in the days of Tiberius aforesaid five thousand Romans were hurt
and slain at one time by the fall of a theatre. And also most
especially by the destruction of the Jews, which about this same
time, in the year threescore and ten, and nearly forty years after
the passion of Christ, and the third year after the suffering of St.
Peter and Paul, were destroyed by Titus and Vespasian his father (who
succeeded after Nero in the empire) to the number of eleven hundred
thousand, besides them which Vespasian slew in subduing the country
of Galilee, over and beside them also which were sold and sent into
Egypt and other provinces to vile slavery, to the number of seventeen
thousand. Two thousand were brought with Titus in his triumph; of
which, part he gave to be devoured of the wild beasts, part otherwise
most cruelly were slain. By whose case all nations and realms may
take example, what it is to reject the visitation of God's verity
being sent, and much more to persecute them which be sent of God for
their salvation.

And as this wrathful vengeance of God thus hath been showed upon this
rebellious people, both of the Jews and of the Romans, for their
contempt of Christ, whom God so punished by their own emperors; so
neither the emperors themselves, for persecuting Christ in his
members, escaped without their just reward. For among so many
emperors which put so many Christian martyrs to death, during the
space of these first three hundred years, few or none of them scaped
either not slain themselves, or by some miserable end or other
worthily revenged. First, of the poisoning of Tiberius, and of the
slaughter of the other three Neros after him, sufficiently is
declared before. After Nero, Domitius Galba within seven months was
slain by Otho. And so did Otho afterward slay himself, being overcome
by Vitellus. And was not Vitellus shortly after drawn through the
city of Rome, and after he was tormented was thrown into Tiber?
Titus, a good emperor, is thought to be poisoned of Domitian, his
brother. The said Domitian, after he had been a persecutor of the
Christians, was slain in his chamber, not without the consent of his
wife. Likewise Commodus was murdered of Narcissus. The like end was
of Pertinax and Julianus. Moreover, after that Severus was slain here
in England, (and lieth at York,) did not his son Bassianus slay his
brother Geta, and he after slain of Martialis? Macrinus with his son
Diadumenus were both slain of their own soldiers. After whom
Heliogabalus, that monstrous belly-paunch, was of his own people
slain, and drawn through the city and cast into Tiber. Alexander
Severus, that worthy and learned emperor, which said he would not
feed his servants doing nothing with the bowels of the commonwealth,
although in life and virtues he was much unlike other emperors, yet
proved the like end, being slain at Mentz, with his godly mother
Mammea, by Maximinus, whom the emperor before of a muleteer had
advanced to great dignities. The which Maximinus also after three
years was slain himself of his soldiers. What should I speak of
Maximus and Balbinus in like sort both slain in Rome? of Gordian
slain by Philip? ofPhilip, the first christened emperor, slain, or
rather martyred, for the same cause? of wicked Decius drowned, and
his son slain the same time in battle? of Gallus and Volusianus his
son, emperors after Decius, both slain by conspiracy of Æmilianus,
who rose against them both in war, and within three months after was
slain himself? Next to Æmilianus succeeded Valerianus, and Galienus
his son; of whom Valerianus (who was a persecutor of the Christians)
was taken prisoner of the Persians, and there made a riding fool of
Sapores their king, who used him for a stool to leap upon his horse;
while his son Galienus, sleeping at Rome, either would not or could
not once proffer to revenge his father's ignominy. For after the
taking of Valerian, so many emperors rose up as were provinces in the
Roman monarchy. At length Galienus also was killed by Aureolus which
warred against him. It were too long here to speak of Aurelianus,
another persecutor, slain of his secretary; of Tacitus and Florinus
his brother, of whom the first reigned five months, and was slain at
Pontus; the other reigned two months, and was murdered at Tarsis: of
Probus, who, although a good civil emperor, yet was he destroyed by
his soldiers. After whom Carus, the next emperor, was slain by
lightning. Next to Carus followed the impious and wicked persecutor
Dioclesian, with his fellows Maximian, Valerius, Maximinus,
Maxentius, and Licinius, under whom, all at one time, (during the
time of Dioclesian,) the greatest and most grievous persecution was
moved against the Christians ten years together. After which,
Dioclesian and Maximian deposed themselves from the empire. Galerius,
the chiefest minister of the persecution, after his terrible
persecutions, fell into a wonderful sickness, having such a sore
risen in the nether part of his body, which consumed his members, and
so did swarm with worms, that being curable neither by surgery nor
physic, he confessed that it happened for his cruelty towards the
Christians, and so called in his proclamations against them.
Notwithstanding, he not able to sustain (as some say) his sore, slew
himself. Maximinus in his war, being tormented with pain in his guts,
there died, Maxentius was vanquished by Constantine, and drowned in
Tiber. Licinius likewise, being overcome by the said Constantine the
Great, was deposed from his empire, and afterward slain of his
soldiers. But, on the other side, after the time of Constantine,
whenas the faith of Christ was received into the imperial seat, we
read of no emperor after the like sort destroyed or molested, except
it were Julianus, or Basilius, (which expelled one Zeno, and was
afterward expelled himself,) or Valens. Beside these we read of no
emperor to come to ruin and decay, as the others before mentioned.

And thus have we in brief sum collected out of the chronicles the
unquiet and miserable state of the emperors of Rome, until the time
of Christian Constantine, with the examples, no less terrible than
manifest, of God's severe justice upon them for their contemptuous
refusing and persecuting the faith and name of Christ their Lord.

Moreover, in much like sort and condition, if leisure of time or
haste of matter would suffer me a little to digress unto more lower
times, and to come more near home, the like examples I could also
infer of this our country of England, concerning the terrible plagues
of God against the churlish and unthankful refusing or abusing the
benefit of his truth. First, we read how that God stirred up Gildas
to preach to the old Britons, and to exhort them unto repentance and
amendment of life, and afore to warn them of plagues to come if they
repented not. What availed it? Gildas was laughed to scorn, and taken
for a false prophet and a malicious preacher. The Britons, with lusty
courages, shameless faces, and unrepentant hearts, went forth to sin
and to offend the Lord their God. What followed? God sent in their
enemies on every side and destroyed them, and gave the land to other
nations, Not many years past, God seeing idolatry, superstition,
hypocrisy, and wicked living used in this realm, raised up that godly
learned man John Wickliffe to preach unto our fathers repentance, and
to exhort them to amend their lives, to forsake their papistry and
idolatry, their hypocrisy and superstition, and to walk in the fear
of God. His exhortations were not regarded, he with his sermons was
despised, his books and he himself after his death were burnt. What
followed? They slew their right king, and set up three wrong kings on
a row; under whom all the noble blood was slain up, and half the
commons thereto, what in France, and with their own sword in fighting
among themselves for the crown; and the cities and towns were
decayed, and the land brought half to a wilderness, in respect of
that it was before. Oh extreme plagues of God's vengeance! Since that
time, even of late years, God, once again having pity of this realm
of England, raised up his prophets, namely, William Tindall, Thomas
Bilney, John Frith, Doctor Barnes, Jerome Garret, Anthony Person,
with divers others, which both with their writings and sermons
earnestly laboured to call us unto repentance, that by this means the
fierce wrath of God might be turned away from us. But how were they
entreated? how, were their painful labours regarded? They themselves
were condemned and burnt as heretics, and their books condemned and
burnt as heretical. The time shall come, saith Christ, that whosoever
killeth you, will think that he doth God high good service, John xvi.
2. Whether any thing since that time hath chanced to this realm
worthy the name of a plague, let the godly wise judge. If God hath
deferred his punishment, or forgiven us these our wicked deeds, as I
trust he hath, let us not therefore be proud and high-minded, but
most humbly thank him for his tender mercies, and beware of the like 
ungodly enterprises hereafter. Neither is it here any need to speak
of these our lower and later times, which have been in king Henry's
and king Edward's days, seeing the memory thereof is yet fresh and
cannot be forgotten. But let this pass; of this I am sure, that God
yet once again is come on visitation to this church of England, yea,
and that more lovingly and beneficially than ever he did before. For
in this visitation he hath redressed many abuses, and cleansed his
church of much ungodliness and superstition, and made it a glorious
church, if it be compared to the old form and state. And now how
grateful receivers we be, with what heart, study, and reverence we
embrace that which he hath given, that I refer either to them that
see our fruits, or to the sequel, which peradventure will declare it.



2. THE EARLY PERSECUTION OF THE APOSTLES
But this by the way of digression. Now to regress again to the
state of the first former times. It remaineth, that as I have set
forth the justice of God upon these Roman persecutors, so now we
declare their persecutions raised up against the people and servants
of Christ, within the space of three hundred years after Christ.
Which persecutions in number commonly are counted to be ten, besides
their persecutions first moved by the Jews in Jerusalem and other
places against the apostles. In the which, first St. Stephen the
deacon was put to death, with divers others more, in the same rage of
time either slain or cast into prison. At the doing whereof Saul the
same time played the doughty Pharisee, being not yet converted to the
faith of Christ, whereof the history is plain in the Acts of the
Apostles, set forth at large by St. Luke.
(Illustration: The martyrdom of St. Stephen )

After the martyrdom of this blessed Stephen, suffered next James the
holy apostle of Christ, and brother of John. Of which James mention
is made in the Acts of the Apostles, the twelfth chapter; where is
declared, how that not long after the stoning of Stephen, king Herod
stretched forth his hand to take and afflict certain of the
congregation; among whom James was one, whom he slew with the sword,
&c. Of this James Eusebius also inferreth mention, alleging Clement
thus writing a memorable story of him. This James, (saith Clement,)
when he was brought to the tribunal seat, he that brought him, (and
was the cause of his trouble,) seeing him to be condemned, and that
he should suffer death, as he went to the execution, he being moved
therewith in heart and conscience. confessed himself also of his own
accord to be a Christian. And so were they led forth together, where
in the way he desired of James to forgive him that he had done. After
that James had a little paused with himself upon the matter, turning
to him, Peace (saith he) be to thee, brother, and kissed him, and
both were beheaded together, in the year of our Lord thirty and six.

Dorotheus in his book named Synopsis testifieth, that Nicanor, one of
the seven deacons, with two thousand others, which believed in
Christ, suffered also the same day whereon Stephen did suffer.

The said Dorotheus witnesseth also that Simon, another of the
deacons, bishop afterward of Bostrum in Arabia, was there burned.
Parmenas also, another of the deacons, suffered.

Thomas preached to the Parthians, Medes, and Persians; also to the
Germans, Hiraconies, Bactries, and Magies. He suffered in Calamina, a
city of Judah, being slain with a dart.

Simon Zelotes preached at Mauritania, and in the countries of Africa,
and in Britain; he was likewise crucified.

Judas, brother of James, called also Thaddeus and Lebbeus, preached
to the Edessenes, and to all Mesopotamia: he was slain under Augarus,
king of the Edessenes, in Berito.

Simon called Cananeus, which was brother to Jude above mentioned, and
to James the younger, which all were the sons of Mary Cleophas, and
of Alpheus, was bishop of Jerusalem after James, and was crucified in
a city of Egypt in the time of Trajanus the emperor, as Dorotheus
recordeth, But Abdias writeth, that he with his brother Jude were
both slain by a tumult of the people in Suanir, a city of Parsidis.

Mark the evangelist, and first bishop of Alexandria, preached the
gospel in Egypt, and there, drawn with ropes unto the fire, was
burned, and afterward buried in a place called there Bucolus, under
the reign of Trajanus the emperor.

Bartholomeus is said also to preach to the Indians, and to have
converted the Gospel of St. Matthew into their tongue, where he
continued a great space doing many miracles. At last in Albania, a
city of Greater Armenia, after divers persecutions, he was beaten
down with staves, then crucified, and after being excoriate, he was
at length beheaded.

Of Andrew the apostle and brother to Peter thus writeth Hieroni in
his Catalogue of ecclesiastical Writers. Andrew the brother of Peter
(in the time and reign of Vespasianus, as our ancestors have
reported) did preach in the eightieth year after our Lord Jesus
Christ to the Scythians, Sogdians, to the Saxons, and in a city which
is called Angustia, where theethiopians do now inhabit. He was buried
in Patnis, a city of Achaia, being crucified of Egeas the governor of
the Edessenes. Hitherto writeth Hierom, although in the number of
years he seemeth a little to miss; for Vespasianus reached not to the
eightieth year after Christ. But Bernard in his second sermon, and
St. Cyprian, do make mention of the confession and martyrdom of this
blessed apostle; whereof partly out of these, partly out of other
credible writers, we have collected after this manner: that whenas
Andrew, being conversant in a city of Achaia called Patris, through
his diligent preaching had brought many to the faith of Christ, Egeas
the governor knowing this, resorted thither, to the intent he might
constrain as many as did believe Christ to be God, by the whole
consent of the senate, to do sacrifice unto the idols, and so give
divine honour unto them. Andrew thinking good at the beginning to
resist the wicked counsel and the doings of Egeas, went unto him,
saying to this effect unto him: That it behoved him which was judge
of men, first to know his Judge which dwelleth in heaven, and then to
worship him being known, and so in worshipping the true God, to
revoke his mind from false gods and blind idols. These words spake
Andrew to the consul.

But he, greatly therewith discontented, demanded of him whether he
was the same Andrew that did overthrow the temple of the gods, and
persuaded men of that superstitious sect, which the Romans of late
had commanded to be abolished and rejected. Andrew did plainly
affirm, that the princes of the Romans did not understand the truth,
and that the Son of God, coming from heaven into the world for man's
sake, hath taught and declared how those idols, whom they so honoured
as gods, were not only not gods, but also most cruel devils, enemies
to mankind, teaching the people nothing else but that wherewith God
is offended, and being offended, turneth away and regardeth them not;
and so by the wicked service of the devil they do fall head long into
all wickedness, and after their departing nothing remaineth unto them
but their evil deeds.

But the proconsul esteeming these things to be as vain especially
seeing the Jews (as he said) had crucified Christ before, therefore
charged and commanded Andrew not to teach and preach such things any
more; or if he did, that he should be fastened to the cross with all
speed.

Andrew abiding in his former mind very constant, answered thus
concerning the punishment which he threatened: He would not have
preached the honour and glory of the cross, if he had feared the
death of the cross. Whereupon sentence of condemnation was
pronounced, that Andrew, teaching and enterprising a new sect, and
taking away the religion of their gods, ought to be crucified. Andrew
coming to the place, and seeing afar off the cross prepared, did
change neither countenance nor colour, as the imbecility of mortal
men is wont to do, neither did his blood shrink, neither did he fail
in his speech; his body fainted not, neither was his mind molested;
his understanding did not fail him, as it is the manner of men to do,
but out of the abundance of his heart his mouth did speak; and
fervent charity did appear in his words as kindled sparks: he said, O
cross, most welcome and long looked for; with a willing mind joyfully
and desirously I come to thee, being the scholar of Him which did
hang on thee; because I have been always thy lover, and have coveted
to embrace thee. So being crucified, he yielded up the ghost and fell
on sleep, the day before the kalends of December.
(Illustration: the martyrdom of St. Andrew )

Matthew, otherwise named Levi, first of a publican made an apostle,
wrote his Gospel to the Jews in the Hebrew tongue, according to
Eusebius and Irenæus.

Matthias, after he had preached to the Jews, at length was stoned and
beheaded. Some others record that he died inethiopia.

Philippus the holy apostle, after he had much laboured among the
barbarous nations in preaching the word of salvation to them, at
length suffered as the other apostles did, in Hierapolis, a city of
Phrygia, being there crucified and stoned to death, where also he was
buried, and his daughters also with him.

After that Festus had sent the apostle Paul to Rome after his
appellation made at Cesarea, and that the Jews by the means thereof
had left their hope of performing their malicious vow against him
conceived, they fell upon James the brother of our Lord, who was
bishop at Jerusalem, against whom they, being bent with like malice,
brought him forth before them, and required him to deny before all
the people the faith of Christ. But he, otherwise than they all
looked for, freely and with a greater constancy before all the
multitude confessed Jesus to be the Son of God, our Saviour, and our
Lord. Whereupon, they not being able to abide the tes timony of this
man any longer, because he was thought to be the justest among them
all, for the highness of Divine wisdom and godliness which in living
he declared, they killed him, finding the more opportunity to 
accomplish their mischief, because the kingdom the same time was
vacant. For Festus being dead in Jewry, the administration of that
province was destitute of a ruler and a deputy. But after what manner
James was killed the words of Clement do declare, which writeth that
he was cast down from the pinnacle of the temple, and, being smittcn
with the instrument of a fuller, was slain; but Egesippus, which
lived in the time next after the apostles, described the cause
diligently in his fifth commentary, after this manner as followeth.

James the brother of our Lord took in hand to govern the church after
the apostles, being counted of all men from the time of our Lord to
be a just and perfect man. Many and divers other Jameses there were
beside him, but this was born holy from his mother's womb; he drunk
no wine, nor any strong drink; neither did he eat any living
creature; the razor never came up on his head; he was not anointed
with oil, neither did he use bath; to him only was it lawful to enter
into the holy place; neither was he clothed with woollen cloth, but
with silk; and he only entered into the temple, falling upon his
knees, asking remission for the people; so that his knees by oft
kneeling lost the sense of feeling, being benumbed and hardened like
the knees of a camel. He was (for worshipping God and craving
forgiveness for the people) called just, and for the excellency of
his just life named Oblias, which (if you do interpret it) is the
safeguard and justice of the people, as the prophets declare of him:
therefore whenas many of the heretics which were among the people
asked him what manner of gift Jesus should be, he answered that he
was the Saviour. Whereof some do believe him to be Jesus Christ; but
the aforesaid heretics neither believe the resurrection, neither that
any shall come which shall render unto every man according to his
works, but as many as believe, they believed for James's cause.
Whenas many therefore of the princes did believe, there was a tumult
made of the scribes, Jews, and Pharisees, saying, It is dangerous,
lest that all the people do look for this Jesus as for Christ.
Therefore they gathered themselves together, and said to James, We
beseech thee, restrain the people, for they believe in Jesus as
though he were Christ; we pray thee, persuade them all which come
unto the feast of the passover of Jesus; for we are all obedient unto
thee, and all the people do testify of thee that thou art just,
neither that thou dost accept the person of any man; therefore
persuade the people that they be not deceived in Jesus, and all the
people and we will obey thee: therefore stand upon the pillar of the
temple, that thou mayst be seen from above, and that thy words may be
perceived of all the people, for to this pass over all the tribes do
come with all the country. And thus the forenamed scribes and
Pharisees did set James upon the battlements of the church, and they
cried unto him and said, Thou just man, whom all we ought to obey,
because this people is led after Jesus, which is crucified, tell what
is the gift of Jesus crucified. And he answered with a great voice,
What do you ask me of Jesus the Son of man, seeing that he sitteth on
the right hand of God in heaven, and shall come in the clouds of the
sky? But when many were persuaded of this, they glorified God upon
the witness of James, and said, Hosanna in the highest to the Son of
David. Then the scribes and the Pharisees said among themselves, We
have done evil that we have caused such a testimony of Jesus, but let
us go up, and let us take him, that they, being compelled with fear,
may deny that faith. And they cried out, saying, Oh, oh, this just
man also is seduced. Therefore they went up to throw down the just
man, and said among themselves, Let us stone this just man James; and
they took him to smite him with stones, for he was not yet dead when
he was cast down. But he turning, fell down upon his knees, saying, O
Lord God, Father, I beseech thee to forgive them, for they know not
what they do.

But when they had smitten him with stones, one of the priests of the
children of Rechas, the son of Charobim, spake to them the testimony
which is in Jeremiah the prophet: Leave off; what do ye? The just man
prayeth for you. And one of those which were present took a fuller's
instrument, wherewith they did use to beat and purge cloth, and smote
the just man on his head; and so he finished his martyrdom, and they
buried him in the same place, and his pillar abideth still by the
temple. He was a true testimony to the Jews and the Gentiles. And
shortly after Vespasianus the emperor, destroying the land of Jewry,
brought them into captivity. These things being thus written at large
of Egesippus, do well agree to those which Clement did write of him.
This James was so notable a man, that for his justice, he was had in
honour of all men, insomuch that the wise men of the Jews, shortly
after his martyrdom, did impute the cause of the besieging of
Jerusalem, and other calamities which happened unto them, to no other
cause, but unto the violence and injury done to this man. Also
Josephus hath not left this out of his history, where he speaketh of
him after this manner: These things so chanced unto the Jews for a
vengeance, because of that just man James, which was the brother of
Jesus, whom they called Christ; for the Jews killed him, although he
was a righteous man.

The same Josephus declareth his death in the same book and chapter,
saying, Cæsar hearing of the death of Festus, sent Albinus the
lieutenant into Jewry; but Ananus the younger being bishop, and of
the sect of the Sadducees, trusting that he had obtained a convenient
time, seeing that Festus was dead, and Albinus entered on his
journey, he called a council, and calling many unto him, among whom
was James, by name, the brother of Jesus which is called Christ, he
stoned them, accusing them as breakers of the law.

Whereby it appeareth that many other besides James also at the same
time were martyred and put to death among the Jews, for the faith of
Christ.
THESE things being thus declared for the martyrdom of the
apostles, and the persecution of the Jews; now let us (by the grace
of Christ our Lord) comprehend, with like brevity, the persecutions
raised by the Romans against the Christians in the primitive age of
the church during the space of three hundred years, till the coming
of godly Constantine:
which persecutions are reckoned of Eusebius, and by the most part of
writers, to the number of ten most specia1.

Wherein marvellous it is to see and read the numbers incredible of
Christian innocents that were slain and tormented, some one way, some
another, is Rabanus saith, and saith truly. Some slain with sword;
some burnt with fire; some with whips scourged; some stabbed with
forks of iron; some fastened to the cross or gibbet; some drowned in
the sea; some their skins plucked off; some their tongues cut off;
some stoned to death; some killed with cold; some starved with
hunger: some their hands cut off, or otherwise dismembered, have been
so left naked to the open shame of the world, &c. Their kinds of
punishments, although they were divers, yet the manner of constancy
in all these martyrs was one. And yet notwithstanding the sharpness
of these so many and sundry torments, and like cruelties of the
tormentors, yet such was the number of these constant saints that
suffered, or rather such was the power of the Lord in his saints,
that there is no day in the whole year unto which the number of five
thousand martyrs cannot be ascribed, except only the first day of
January.



3. THE FIRST PERSECUTION UNDER NERO


The first of these ten persecutions was stirred up by Nero Domitius,
the sixth emperor before mentioned, about the year of our Lord
threescore and seven. The tyrannous rage of which emperor was so
fierce against the Christians, as Eusebius recordeth, that a man
might then see cities lie full of men's bodies, the old there lying
together with the young, and the dead bodies of women cast out naked,
without all reverence of that sex, in the open streets, &c. Likewise
Orosius, writing of the said Nero, saith, that he was the first which
in Rome did raise up persecution against the Christians; and not only
in Rome, but also through all the provinces thereof; thinking to
abolish and to destroy the whole name of Christians in all places,
&c. Whereunto accordeth moreover the testimony of Hierom upon Daniel,
saying, that many there were of the Christians in those days, which,
seeing the filthy abominations and intolerable cruelty of Nero,
thought that he should be antichrist.
(Illustration: The Martyrdom of St. Peter )

In this persecution, among many other saints, the blessed apostle
Peter was condemned to death, and crucified, as some do write, at
Rome; albeit other some, and not without cause, do doubt thereof;
concerning whose life and history, because it is sufficiently
described in the text of the Gospel, and in the Acts of the Apostles,
I need not here to make any great repetition thereof. As touching the
cause and maimer of his death, divers there be which make relation,
as Hierom, Egesippus, Eusebius, Abdias, and others, although they do
not all precisely agree in the time. The words of Hierom be these:
Simon Peter, the son of Jona, of the province of Galilee, and of the
town of Bethsaida, the brother of Andrew, &c., after he had been
bishop of the church of Antioch, and had preached to the dispersion
of them that believed, of the circumcision, in Pontus, Galatia,
Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, in the second year of Claudius the
emperor, (which was the year of our Lord forty and four,) came to
Rome to withstand Simon Magus, and there kept the priestly chair the
space of five and twenty years, until the last year of the aforesaid
Nero, which was the fourteenth year of his reign, of whom he was
crucified, his head being down, and his feet upward; himself so
requiring, because he was (he said) unworthy to be crucified after
the same form and manner as the Lord was, &c. Egesippus prosecuting
this matter something more at large, and Abdias also, (if any 
authority is to be given to his book, who following not only the
sense, but also the very form of words of Egesippus in this history,
seemeth to be extracted out of him, and of other authors,) saith,
that Simon Magus being then a great man with Nero, and his president
and keeper of his life, was required upon a time to be present at the
raising up of a certain noble young man in Rome, of Nero's kindred,
lately departed; whereas Peter also was desired to come to the re
viving of the said personage. But when Magus, in the presence of
Peter, could not do it, then Peter, calling upon the name of the Lord
Jesus, did raise him up, and restored him to his mother; Whereby the
estimation of Simon Magus began greatly to decay, and to be detested 
in Rome. Not long after the said Magus threatened the Romans that he
would leave the city, and in their sight fly away from them into
heaven. So the day being appointed, Magus taking his wings in the
mount Capitolinus, began to fly in the air; but Peter, by the power
of the Lord Jesus, brought him down with his wings headlong to the
ground, by the which fall his legs and joints were broken, and he
thereupon died. Then Nero, sorrowing for the death of him, sought
matter against Peter to put him to death. Which, when the people
perceived, they entreated Peter with much ado that he would fly the
city. Peter, through their importunity at length persuaded, prepared
himself to avoid. But coming to the gate, he saw the Lord Christ come
to meet him, to whom he, worshipping, said, Lord, whither dost thou
go? To whom he answered and said, I am come again to be crucified. By
this Peter, perceiving his suffering to be understood, returned back
into the city again, and so was he crucified in manner as is before
declared. And this out of Egesippus.

Eusebius, moreover, writing of the death, not only of Peter, but also
of his wife, affirmeth that Peter, seeing his wife going to her
martyrdom, (belike as he was yet hanging upon the cross,) was greatly
joyous and glad thereof, who, crying unto her with a loud voice, and
calling her by her name, bade her remember the Lord Jesus. Such was
then, (saith Eusebius,) the blessed bond of marriage among the saints
of God. And thus much of Peter.

Paul the apostle, which before was called Saul, after his great
travail and unspeakable labours in promoting the gospel of Christ,
suffered also in this first persecution under Nero, and was beheaded.

Among his other manifold labours and travails in spreading the
doctrine of Christ, he won Sergius Paulus, the proconsul of Cyprus,
to the faith of Christ: whereupon he took his name, as some suppose,
turned from Saulus to Paulus. After he had passed through divers
places and countries in his laborious peregrinations, he took to him
Barnabas, and went up to Jerusalem to Peter, James, and John, where
he was ordained and sent out with Barnabas to preach unto the
Gentiles.

And because it is in the Acts of the Apostles sufficiently
comprehended, concerning the admirable conversion and conversation of
this most worthy apostle, that which remaineth of the rest of his
history, I will here add, how the said apostle Paul, Acts xxviii.,
the five and twentieth year after the passion of the Lord, in the
second year of Nero, at what time Festus ruled in Jewry, was sent up
in bonds to Rome, where he, remaining in his own lodgings two years
together, disputed daily against the Jews, proving Christ to be come.
And here is to be noted, that after his first answer or purgation
there made at Rome, the emperor Nero, not yet fully confirmed in his
empire, and yet not bursting out into those mischiefs which histories
report of him, he was at that time by Nero discharged and dismissed
to preach the gospel in the west parts, and about the coasts of
Italy, as he himself writing unto Timothy afterward, in his second
apprehension, in his Second Epistle, chap. iv. 16, 17, witnesseth:
"At my first answer no man stood with rue, but all men forsook me. I
pray God that it may not be laid to their charge. Notwithstanding the
Lord stood with me, and strengthened me; and I was delivered out of
the mouth of the lion." In which place, by the lion, he plainly
meaneth Nero. And afterwards, likewise, he saith, I was delivered
from the mouth of the lion, &c. And again, The Lord hath delivered me
out from all evil works, and hath saved me unto his heavenly kingdom,
&c.; speaking this, because he perceived then the time of his
martyrdom to be near at hand. For in the same Epistle before, he
saith, I am now offered up, and the time of my dissolution draweth
on.

Thus, then, this worthy preacher and messenger of the Lord, in the
fourteenth year of Nero, and the same day in which Peter was
crucified, (although not in the same year, as some write, but in the
next year following,) was beheaded at Rome for the testimony of
Christ, and was buried in the way of Ostia, the seven and thirtieth
year after the passion of the Lord. He wrote nine Epistles to seven
churches: to the Romans, one; to the Corinthians, two; to the
Galatians, one; to the Ephesians, one; to the Philippians, one; to
the Colossians, one; to the Thessalonians, two. Moreover, he wrote to
his disciples: to Timothy, two; to Titus, one; to Philemon, one; to
the Hebrews, one.

As touching the time and order of the death and martyrdom of Saint
Paul, as Eusebius, Hierom, Maximus, and other authors do but briefly
pass it over; so Abdias, (if his book be of any substantial
authority,) speaking more largely of the same, doth say, that after
the crucifying of Peter, and the ruin of Simon Magus, Paul yet
remaining in free custody, was dismissed and delivered at that time
from martyrdom by God's permission, that all the Gentiles might be
replenished with preaching of the gospel by him.

And the same Abdias proceeding in his story, declareth moreover, that
as Paul was thus occupied at Rome, he was accused to the emperor, not
only for teaching new doctrine, but also for stirring up sedition
against the empire. For this he being called before Nero, and
demanded to show the order and manner of his doctrine, there declared
what his doctrine was: To teach all men peace and charity, how to
love one another, how to prevent one another in honour; rich men not
to be puffed up in pride, nor to put their trust in their treasures,
but in the living God; mean men to be contented with food and
raiment, and with their present state; poor men to rejoice in their
poverty with hope; fathers to bring up their children in the fear of
God; children to obey their parents; husbands to love their wives;
wives to be subject to their husbands; citizens and subjects to give
their tribute unto Cæsar, and to be subject to their magistrates;
masters to be courteous, not churlish, to their servants; servants to
deal faithfully with their masters: and this to be the sum of his
teaching. Which his doctrine he received not of men, nor by men, but
by Jesus Christ, and the Father of glory, which spake to him from
heaven; the Lord Jesus saying to him, that he should go and preach
his name, and that he would be with him, and would be the Spirit of
life to all that believed in him, and that whatsoever he did or said
he would justify it, &c. After that Paul had thus declared unto the
emperor, shortly after sentence of death was pronounced against him,
that he should be beheaded. Unto whose execution then Nero sent two
of his esquires, Ferega and Parthemius, to bring him word of his
death. They coming to Paul, instructing then the people, desired him
to pray for them, that theymight believe. This done, the soldiers
came and led him out of the city to the place of execution, where he,
after his prayers made, gave his neck to the sword.



4. THE SECOND PERSECUTION UNDER DOMITIAN

The first Roman persecution beginning under Nero, as is aforesaid,
ceased under Vespasianus, who gave some rest to the poor Christians.
After whose reign was moved, not long after, the second persecution
by the emperor Domitian, brother of Titus. Of whom Eusebius and
Orosius so write, that he first beginning mildly, afterward did so
far outrage in pride intolerable, that he commanded himself to be
worshipped as God, and that images of gold and silver in his hon our
should be set up in Capitolio. The chiefest nobles of the senators,
either upon envy, or for their goods, he caused to be put to death,
some openly, and some he sent into banishment, there causing them to
be slain privily.

And as his tyranny was unmeasurable, so the intemperancy of his life
was no less. He put to death all the nephews of Jude, called the
Lord's brother, and caused to be sought out and to be slain all that
could be found of the stock of David, (as Vespasian also did before
him,) for fear lest he were yet to come of the house of David which
should enjoy the kingdom. In the time of this persecution, Simeon,
bishop of Jerusalem, after other torments, was crucified to death,
whom Justus afterward succeeded in that bishopric.

In this persecution John the apostle and evangelist was exiled by the
said Domitianus into Patmos. Of whom divers and sundry memorable acts
be reported in sundry chronicles. As, first, how he was put in a
vessel of boiling oil by the proconsul of Ephesus. The legend and
Perionius say it was done at Rome. Isidorus also writing of him, and
comprehending many things in few words, declareth that he turned
certain places of wood into gold, and stones by the sea-side into
margarites, to satisfy the desire of two, whom he had before
persuaded to renounce their riches; and afterward they repenting that
for worldly treasure they had lost heaven, for their sakes again he
changed the same into their former substance. Also how he raised up a
widow and a certain young man from death to life; how he drank poison
and it hurt him not, raising also to life two which had drunk the
same before. These and such other miracles, although they may be
true, and are found in Isidorus, and other writers more, yet because
they are no articles of our Christian belief, I let them pass, and
only content myself with that which I read in Eusebius, declaring of
him in this wise: that in the fourteenth year after Nero, in the
second persecution, in the days of Domitian, John was banished into
Patmos for the testimony of the word, in the year fourscore and
twelve. And after the death of the aforesaid Domitian, he being
slain, and his acts repealed by the senate, John was again released
under Pertinax the emperor, and came to Ephesus in the year one
hundred; where he continued until the time of Trajanus, and there
governed the churches in Asia; where also he wrote his Gospel, and so
lived till the year after the passion of our Lord threescore and
eight, which was the year of his age one hundred and twenty.

Moreover, in the aforesaid ecclesiastical history of Eusebius, we
read that John the apostle and evangelist, whom the Lord did love,
was in Asia, where he being returned out of Patmos, after the death
of Domitian, governed the churches and congregations. Irenæus in his
second book thus writeth: And of him all the elders do witness, which
were with John the disciple of the Lord in Asia, that he spake and
wrote these things, &c.; for there he continued with them unto the
time of Trajanus, &c. Also the said Irenæus in like words declareth,
saying, The church of the Ephesians being first founded by Paul,
afterward being confirmed of John, (who continued in the same city
unto the time of Trajanus the emperor,) is a true Witness of this
apostolical tradition, &c. Clemens Alexandrinus moreover noteth both
the time of this holy apostle, and also addeth to the same a certain
history of him, not unworthy to be remembered of such which delight
in things honest and profitable. Of the which history Sozomenus also
in his commentaries maketh mention. The words of the author setting
forth this history be these: Hear a fable, and not a fable, but a
true report, which is told us of John the apostle, delivered and
commended to our remembrance.
After the death of the tyrant, when John was returned to
Ephesus, from the Isle of Patmos, he was desired to resort to the
places bordering near unto him, partly to constitute bishops, partly
to dispose the causes and matters of the church, partly to ordain and
set such of the clergy in office whom the Holy Ghost should elect.
Whereupon, when he was come to a certain city not far off, the name
of which also many do yet remember, and had among other things
comforted the brethren, he, looking more earnestly upon him which was
the chief bishop among them, beheld a young man mighty in body, and
of beautiful countenance, and of a fervent mind: I commend this man
(saith he) to thee with great diligence, in witness here of Christ
and of the church.

When the bishop had received of him this charge, and had promised his
faithful diligence therein; again, the second time John spake unto
him, and desired him in like manner and contestation as before. This
done, John returned again to Ephesus. The bishop receiving the young
man commended and committed to his charge, brought him home, kept
him, and nourished him, and at length also did illuminate (that is,
he baptized) him, and in short time through his diligence brought him
into such order and towardness, that be committed unto him the
oversight of a certain cure in the Lord's behalf. The young man thus
having more his liberty, it chanced that certain of his companions
and old familiars being idle, dissolute, and accustomed of old time
to wickedness, did join in company with him, who first brought him to
sumptuous and riotous banquets; then incited him forth with them in
the night to rob and steal; after that he was allured by them unto
greater mischief and wickedness. Where in by custom of time, by
little and little, he being more practised, and being of a good wit
and a stout courage, like unto a wild or an unbroken horse, leaving
the right way, and running at large without bridle, was carried
headlong to the profundity of all misorder and outrage. And thus,
being past all hope of grace, utterly forgetting and rejecting the
wholesome doctrine of salvation, which he had learned before, began
to set his mind upon no small matters. And forasmuch as he was
entered so far in the way of perdition, he cared not how much farther
he proceeded in the same. And so, associating unto him the company of
his companions and fellow thieves, took upon him to be as head and
captain among them in committing all kind of murder and felony.

In the mean time, it chanced that of necessity John was sent for to
those quarters again, and came. The causes being decided, and his
business ended for the which he came, by the way meeting with the
bishop afore specified, he requireth of him the pledge, which in the
witness of Christ and of the Congregation then present he left in his
hands to keep. The bishop, something amazed at the words of John,
supposing he had meant of some money Committed to his Custody which
he had not received, (and yet durst not mistrust John, nor contrary
his words,) could not tell what to answer. Then John perceiving his
doubting, and uttering his mind more plainly, The young man, (saith
he,) and the soul of our brother committed to your custody, I do
require. Then the bishop with a loud voice sorrowing and weeping
said, He is dead, To whom John said, How, and by what death? The
other said, He is dead to God; for he is become an evil man and
pernicious; to be brief, a thief; and now he doth frequent this
mountain with a company of villains and thieves like unto himself
against the church. But the apostle rent his garments, and with a
great lamentation said, I have left a good keeper of my brother's
soul; get me a horse, and let me have a guide with me; which being
done, his horse and man procured, he hasted from the church as much
as he could, and coming to the same place, was taken of thieves that
watched. But he, neither flying nor refusing, said, I came for this
same cause hither; lead me, said he, to your captain. So he being
brought, the captain, all armed, fiercely began to look upon him; and
eftsoons coming to the knowledge of him, was stricken with confusion
and shame, and began to fly. But the old man followed him as much as
he might, forgetting his age, and crying, My son, why dost thou fly
from thy father? an armed man from one naked, a young man from an old
man? Have pity on me, my son, and fear not, for there is yet hope of
salvation; I will make answer for thee unto Christ; I will die for
thee, if need be; as Christ hath died for us, I will give my life for
thee; believe me, Christ hath sent me. He hearing these things, first
as in a maze stood still, and therewith his courage was abated. After
that he had cast down his weapons, by and by he trembled, yea, and
wept bitterly; and coming to the old man, embraced him, and spake
unto him with weeping, (as well as he could,) being even then
baptized afresh with tears, only his right hand being hid and
covered. Then the apostle, after that he had promised and firmly
ascertained him that he should obtain remission of our Saviour, and
also prayed, falling down upon his knees, and kissed his murdering
right hand, which for shame he durst not show before, as now purged
through repentance, brought him to the congregation. And when he had
prayed for him with continual prayer and daily fastings, and had
comforted and confirmed his mind with many sentences, went not from
him (as the author reported) before he had restored him to the
congregation again, and made him a great example and trial of 
regeneration, and a token of the visible resurrection.

Moreover, the aforesaid Irenæus and Eusebius, prosecuting the history
of John, declare in these words, saying, that there were certain
which heard Polycarpus say, that John the disciple of our Lord, going
into Ephesus to be washed, seeing Cerinthus within, he leaped out of
the bath unbathed, because he feared the bath should have fallen,
seeing that Cerinthus an enemy to the truth was within. Such fear had
the apostles, (saith Irenæus,) that they would not communicate a word
with them that adulterate the truth.

In this persecution, besides these afore mentioned, and many other
innumerable godly martyrs, suffering for the like testimony of the
Lord Jesus, was Flavia the daughter of Flavius Clemens, one of the
Roman consuls; which Flavia, with many others, was banished out of
Rome into the isle Pontia, for the testimony of the Lord Jesus, by
the emperor Domitianus.

This Domitianus feared the coming of Christ as Herod did, and
therefore commanded them to be killed which were of the stock of
David in Jewry. There were remaining alive at that time certain of
the Lord's kindred, which were the nephews of Jude, that was called
the Lord's brother after the flesh. These, when the lieutenant of
Jewry had brought up to Domitian to be slain, the emperor demanded of
them whether they were of the stock of David; which when they had
granted, he asked again what possessions and what substance they had.
They answered, that they both had no more between them in all but
nine and thirty acres of ground; and how they got their living, and
sustained their families, with the hard labours of their hands,
showing forth their hands unto the emperor, being hard and rough,
worn with labours, to witness that to be true which they had spoken.
Then the emperor, inquiring of them concerning the kingdom of Christ,
what manner of kingdom it was, how and when it should appear; they
answered that his kingdom was no worldly nor terrene thing, but a
heavenly and angelical kingdom, and that it should appear in the
consummation and end of the world, what time he coming in glory
should judge the quick and the dead, and render to every one
according to his deservings. Domitian the emperor hearing this, (as
the saying is,) did not condemn them; but despising them as vile
persons let them go, and also staid the persecution then moved
against the Christians. They, being thus discharged and dismissed,
afterward had the government of churches, being taken for martyrs,
and as of the Lord's stock, and so continued in good peace till the
time of Trajanus.

By this story here recited may appear what were the causes why the
emperors of the Roman monarchy did so persecute the Christians; which
causes were chiefly these: fear and hatred. First, fear, for that the
emperors and senate, of blind ignorance, not knowing the manner of
Christ's kingdom, feared and misdoubted lest the same would subvert
their empire (like as the pope thinketh now that this gospel will
overthrow his kingdom of majesty); and therefore sought they all
means possible, how, by death and all kinds of torments, utterly to
extinguish the name and memory of the Christians. And thereupon
seemeth to spring the old law of the Roman senate, That the
Christians should not be let go which were once brought to the
judgment-seat, except they changed their purpose. Secondly, hatred,
partly for that this world, of his own natural condition, hath ever
hated and maliced the people of God, from the first beginning of the
world. Partly, again, for that the Christians, being of a contrary
nature and religion, serving only the true living God, despised their
false gods, spake against their idolatrous worshippings, and many
times stopped the power of Satan working in their idols; and
therefore Satan, the prince of this world, stirred up the Roman
princes and blind idolaters to bear the more hatred and spite against
them.

Upon these causes, and such like, rose up these malicious slanders,
false surmises, infamous lies, and slanderous accusations of the
heathen idolaters against the Christian servants of God, which
incited the princes of this world the more to persecute them; for
what crimes soever malice could invent, or rash suspicion could
minister, that was imputed to the Christians; as that they were a
people incestuous, that in the night in their concourses, putting out
their candles, they ran together in all filthy manner, that they
killed their own children, that they used to eat man's flesh, that
they were seditious and rebellious, that they would not swear by the
fortune and prosperity of Cæsar, that they would not adore the image
of Cæsar in the market-place, that they were pernicious to the empire
of Rome. Briefly, whatsoever mishappened to the city or provinces of
Rome, either famine, pestilence, earthquake, wars, wonders,
unseasonableness of weather, or what other evils soever happened, it
was imputed to the Christians, as Justinus recordeth. Over and beside
all these, a great occasion that stirred up the emperors against the
Christians came by one Publius Tarquinius, the chief prelate of the
idolatrous sacrifices, and Mamertinus, the chief governor of the city
in the time of Trajanus; who partly with money, partly with sinister
and pestilent counsel, partly with infamous acccusations, (as
witnesseth Nauclerus,) incensed the mind of the emperor so much
against God's people.

Also among these other causes above said, crept in some piece of
covetousness withal, (as in all other things it doth,) in that the
wicked promoters and accusers, for lucre' sake, to have the
possessions of the Christians, were the more ready to accuse them to
have the spoil of their goods.

Thus hast thou, (Christian reader,) first, the causes declared of
these persecutions; secondly, the cruel law of their condemnation;
thirdly, now hear more what was the form of inquisition, which was
(as is witnessed in the second apology of Justinus) to this effect:
that they should swear to declare the truth, whether they were in
very deed Christians or not:
and if they confessed, then by the law the sentence of death
proceeded.

Neither yet were these tyrants and organs of Satan thus contented
with death only, to bereave the life from the body. The kinds of
death were divers, and no less horrible than divers. Whatsoever the
cruelness of man's invention could devise for the punishment of man's
body was practised against the Christians, as partly I have mentioned
before, and more appeareth by the epistle sent from the brethren of
France hereafter following: Crafty trains, outeries of enemies,
imprisonment, stripes and scourgings, drawings, tearings, stonings,
plates of iron laid unto them burning hot, deep dungeons, racks,
strangling in prisons, the teeth of wild beasts, gridirons, gibbets
and gallows, tossing upon the horns of bulls: moreover, when they
were thus killed, their bodies were laid in heaps, and dogs there
left to keep them, that no man might come to bury them; neither would
any prayer obtain them to be interred and buried.

And yet, notwithstanding for all these continual persecutions and
horrible punishments, the church of the Christians daily increased,
deeply rooted in the doctrine of the apostles, and of men
apostolical, and watered plenteously with the blood of saints.
Whereof let us hear the worthy testimony of Justinus Martyr in his
Dialogue with Tripheus. And that none (saith he) can terrify or
remove us which believe in Jesus, by this it daily appeareth; for
when we are slain, crucified, cast to wild beasts, into the fire, or
given to other torments, yet we go not from our confession: but,
contrary, the more cruelty and slaughter is wrought against us, the
more they be that come to piety and faith by the name of Jesus; no
otherwise than if a man cut the vine tree, the better the branches
grow. For the vine tree, planted by God and Christ our Saviour, is
his people.

To comprehend the names and number of all the martyrs that suffered
in all these ten persecutions, (which are innumerable,) as it is
impossible, so it is hard in such a variety and diversity of matter
to keep such a perfect order and course of years and times, that
either some be not left out, or that every one be reduced into
hitright place, especially seeing the authors themselves, whom in
this present work we follow, do diversly disagree, both in the times,
in the names, and also in the kind of martyrdom of them that
suffered. As, for example, where the common reading and opinion of
the church and epistles decretal do take Anacletus to succeed after
Clement, next before Euaristus; contrary, Eusebius, making no mention
of Cletus, but of Anacletus, saith that Euaristus succeeded next to
Clement. Likewise Ruffinus and Epiphanius, speaking nothing of
Anacletus, make mention of Linus and of Cletus next before Clement,
but say nothing of Anacletus; whereby it may appear that Cletus and
Anacletus were both one. Sabellicus speaketh of Linus and of Cletus,
and saith that they were ordained helpers under Peter, while he
laboured in his apostleship abroad; and so saith also Marianus
Scotus: contrary, Irenæus speaketh of Anacletus, making no mention of
Cletus. Whereby it may appear, by the way, what credit is to be given
to the decretal epistles, whom all the later histories of the pope's
church do follow on this behalf, &c. Moreover, where Antoninus, 
Vincentius, Jacobus, Simoneta, Aloisius, with others, declare of
Linus, Cletus, Clement, Anacletus, Euaristus, Alexander, bishops of
Rome, that they died martyrs; Eusebius, in his ecclesiastical
history, writing of them, maketh thereof no mention.

And, first, as touching Clement, (whom Marianus Scotus calleth the
first bishop of Rome after Peter,) they say that he was sent out into
banishment of Trajanus, beyond Ponticus, with two thousand
Christians, where he opened a well-spring to them which in the
wilderness were condemned to the mines. Afterward, being accused to
the emperor, he was thrown into the sea with a millstone fastened
about his neck, and not long after his body was cast up and buried
(as Platina saith) at the place where the well was made. Some say it
was found first in the days of Pope Nicholas the First. But forasmuch
as I find of his martyrdom no firm relation in the ancient authors,
but only in such new writers of later times which are wont to paint
out the lives and histories of good men with feigned additions of
forged miracles; therefore I count the same of less credit, as I do
also certain decretal epistles untruly (as may seem) ascribed and
entitled to his name. Eusebius in his third book, writing of Clement,
giveth no more of him but thus: After he had governed the church of
Rome nine years, the said Clement left the succession thereof to
Euaristus.

Of which Euaristus, next bishop of Rome, thus we find in Irenæus:
Peter and Paul (saith he) committed the charge of that church to
Linus; after whom came Anacletus; then succeeded Clemens; next to
Clemens followed Euaristus; after whom came Alexander; and then
Sixtus, the sixth bishop of Rome after the apostles; after Sixtus sat
Telesphorus; then Higinus, then Pius, then Anicetus; and when Soter
took the place after him, then the twelfth bishop of Rome was
Eleutherius. Thus after Clement followed (as is said) Euaristus in
the second or third year of Trajanus, as saith Eusebius; or, as
Nicephorus saith, the fourth year of the said emperor. But howsoever
the count of years standeth, little or nothing remaineth of the acts
and monu ments either of this or of other bishops of Rome in those
days. Whereby it may appear that no great account was then made of
Roman bishops in those days, whose acts and deeds were then either so
lightly reputed, or so slenderly committed to history.
Notwithstanding, certain decretal epistles are remaining, or rather
thrust upon us in their names, containing in them little substance of
any doctrine, but altogether stuffed with laws, injunctions, and
stately decrees, little to the purpose, and less savouring of the
nature of that time then present. Amongst whom also are numbered the
two epistles of this Euaristus.

And when he had given these orders, and had made six priests, two
deacons, and five bishops for sundry places, (saith the story,) he
suffered martyrdom. But what kind of death, for what cause he
suffered, what constancy he showed, what was the order or
conversation of his life, is nothing touched, and seemeth therefore
the more to be doubted that which our new histories do say; because
the old ancient writers have no remembrance thereof, which otherwise
would not have passed such things over in silence, if they had been
true. Again, neither do the authors fully agree in the time of his
martyrdom, which Nauclerus witnesseth to be in the last year of
Trajanus; but Platina thinketh rather that he suffered under
Hadrianus. Fascicul. Temporum referreth it to the third year of
Hadrian; Volateranus to the beginning of the reign of Hadrian.
Contrary, Eusebius coming near to the simple truth, (as seemeth,)
doth affirm that Euaristus succeeded Clement in the third year of
Trajanus, and so giving to him nine years, it should follow thereby
that Euaristus deceased the twelfth year of Trajanus.

After whom succeeded next Alexander in the governance of that church,
of whose time and death the like discrepance is among the writers.
Marianus Scotus saith he was the fourth bishop from Peter; but that
could not be. Some say he was the sixth, and some the seventh; but
they likewise were deceived; for the most part all do grant Sixtus to
be the sixth. Damasus affirmeth that he was in the reign of Trajan:
and how can that be, when the said Damasus affirmed before that
Euaristus's predecessor suffered in the last year of Trajan, and then
the bishopric stood at least a month void, except he mean that the 
said Alexander succeeded Euaristus in the last year of Trajanus? But
then how can that stand with Bede and Marianus Scotus, which say that
he suffered under Trajanus? or with Otho Frisingensis, which saith he
suffered the fourth year of Hadrian, when he had been bishop ten
years by the general consent of most writers?

They which write of the deeds and doings of this blessed bishop, as
Bergomensis Antoninus, Equilinus, and such as follow them, declare
that he had converted a great part of the senators to the faith of
Christ, amongst whom was Hermes, a great man in Rome, whose son being
dead Alexander raised again to life, and likewise restored sight to
his maid being blind. Hadrian the emperor, then absent, hearing this,
sent word to Aurelianus, governor of Rome, to apprehend Alexander,
with Euentius and Theodulus, otherwise called Theodorus, as Platina
saith, his two deacons, and Hermes, and to commit them to ward with
Quirinus the tribune: which being done, as their story recordeth,
Alexander, enclosed in a diverse prison from Hermes, notwithstanding,
by the guiding of an angel through three doors with three locks
apiece, was brought with candle-light to the lodging of Hermes; and
so returning to the prison again cured the daughter of Quirinus his
keeper, named Balbina; by reason whereof the said Quirinus, with his
whole household, were all baptized, and suffered also for the faith
of Christ.

Thus, then, (saith the story,) about the second year of Hadrian,
Aurelianus the ruler took Alexander the bishop, with Hermes, his
wife, children, and his whole household, to the number of one
thousand two hundred and fifty, and threw them in prison. And not
long after the said Alexander, with Euentius his deacon, and Hermes,
and the rest were burned in a furnace. Theodulus, another deacon of
Alexander, seeing and rebuking the cruelty of the tyrant, suffered
also the same martyrdom.

Quirinus also the same time, (as saith Antoninus,) having first his
tongue cut out, then his hands and feet, aftervard was beheaded and
cast to the dogs: Equilinus saith that he was beheaded and cast into
Tiber in the reign of the emperor Claudius; but that cannot be:
albeit Platina maketh relation but only of Alexander with his two
deacons aforesaid, declaring, moreover, that in the time of this
bishop Saphira of Antioch, and Sabina a Roman, suffered martyrdom.

Florilegus, the author of Flores Historiarum, affirmeth that
Alexander bishop of Rome was beheaded seven miles out of Rome, (where
he lieth buried,) in the year one hundred and five; but that agreeth
not with the chronicles above recited. Eusebius recordeth of him no
more, but that in the third year of Hadrian he ended his life and
office, after he had been bishop ten years.

Divers miracles are reported of this Alexander, in the canon legends,
and lives of saints; which as I deny not but they may be true, so
because I cannot avouch them by any grave testimony of ancient
writers, therefore I dare not affirm them, but do refer them to the
authors and patrons thereof, where they are found. Notwithstanding,
whatsoever is to be thought of his miracles, this is to be affirmed
and not doubted, but that he was a godly and virtuous bishop.

And as I say of his miracles, the like judgment also I have of the
ordinances both of him and of Euaristus his predecessor, testified in
the pope's decrees by Gratianus, where is said that Euaristus divided
divers titles in the city of Rome to the priests, also ordained in
every city seven deacons to associate and assist the bishop in his
preaching, both for his defence, and for the witness of truth.
Notwithstanding, if probable conjectures might stand against the
authority of Gratianus and his decrees, here might be doubted whether
this absolute ordination of priests was first forbidden by Euaristus,
and whether the intitulation of priests was first by him brought in
or not; wherein an instance may be given to the contrary, that this
intitulation seemeth to take his first beginning at the council of
Chalcedon, and of Pope Urban in the council of Placentia. In the
which council of Chalcedon the words of the canon (making no mention
of Euaristus at all) do expressly forbid, that any ecclesiastical
person, either priest or deacon, should be ordained absolutely;
otherwise the imposition of hands, without some proper title of the
party ordained, to stand void and frustrate, &c. And likewise Urbanus
in the council of Placentia doth decree the same, alleging no name of
Euaristus, but the statutes of former councils.

Moreover, in the time of Euaristus, the church, then being under
terrible persecutions, was divided into no peculiar parishes or
cures, whereby any title might rise, but was scattered rather in
corners and deserts, where they could best hide themselves. And
as the Church of Rome in those days was not divided into several
parishes or cures, (as I suppose,) so neither was then any such open
or solemn preaching in churches, that the assistance or testimony of
seven deacons either could avail among the multitude of the heathen,
or else needed amongst the Christian secret congregations. Again, the
constitution of seven deacons seemeth rather to spring out of the
council of Neocesarea long after Euaristus, where it was appointed
that in every city, were it never so small, there should be seven
deacons after the rule. And this rule the said council taketh out of
the book of the Acts of the Apostles, making no word or mention of
Euaristus at all. But these (as is said) be but only conjectures, not
denying that which is commonly received, but only showing what may be
doubted in their epistles decretal.

More unlike it seemeth to be true that is recorded and reported of
Alexander, that he should be the first founder and finder of holy
water mixed with salt, to purge and sanctify them upon whom it is
sprinkled.



5. THE THIRD PERSECUTION UNDER TRAJAN AND HADRIAN
(Illustration: Rome )
Between the second Roman persecution and the third was but one
year, under the emperor Nerva, after whom succeeded Trajanus; and
after him followed the third persecution. So the second and the third
are noted of some to be both one, having no more difference but one
year between them. This Trajanus, if we look well upon his politic
and civil governance, might seem (in comparison of others) a right
worthy and commendable prince, much familiar with inferiors, and so
be having himself towards his subjects as he himself would have the
prince to be to him if he himself were a subject. Also he was noted
to be a great observer of justice, insomuch that when he ordained any
pretor, giving to him the sword, he would bid him use the sword
against his enemies in just causes; and if he himself did otherwise
than justice, to use then his power against him also. But for all
these virtues, toward Christian religion he was impious and cruel,
who caused the third persecution of the church. In the which
persecution Pliny the second, a man learned and famous, seeing the
lamentable slaughter of Christians, and moved therewith to pity,
wrote to Trajanus of the pitiful persecution; certifying him that
there were many thousands of them daily put to death, of which none
did any thing contrary to the Roman laws worthy persecution, saving
that they used to gather together in the morning before day, and sing
hymns to a certain God whom they worshipped, called Christ. In all
other their ordinances they were godly and honest. Where by the
persecution by commandment of the emperor was greatly staid and
diminished. The form and copy of which epistle of Pliny, anno 107, I
thought here not inconvenient to set down as followeth:

"It is my property and manner (my sovereign) to make relation of all
those things unto you wherein I doubt. For who can better either
correct my slackness or instruct mine ignorance than you? I was never
yet present myself at the examination and execution of these
Christians; and therefore what punishment is to be administered, and
how far, or how to proceed in such inquisitions, I am plain ignorant;
not able to resolve in the matter whether any difference is to be had
in age and person; whether the young and tender ought to be with like
cruelty entreated as the elder and stronger; whether repentance may
have any pardon, or whether it may profit him or not to deny which
hath been a Christian; whether the name only of Christians without
other offences, or whether the offences joined with the name of a
Christian, ought to be punished. In the mean season, as touching such
Christians as have been presented unto me, I have kept this order: I
have inquired the second and third time of them whether they were 
Christians, menacing them with fear of punishment; and such as did
persevere, I commanded to execution. For thus I thought, that
whatsoever their profession was, yet their stubbornness and obstinacy
ought to be punished. Whether they were also of the same madness,
whom, because they were citizens of Rome, I thought to send them back
again to the city. Afterward, in further process and handling of this
matter, as the sect did further spread, so the more cases did thereof
ensue.

"There was a libel offered to me bearing no name, wherein were
contained the names of many which denied themselves to be Christians,
contented to do sacrifice with incense and wine to the gods, and to
your image, (which image I for that purpose caused to be brought,)
and to blaspheme Christ; whereunto none such as were true Christians
indeed could be compelled, and those I did discharge and let go.
Other some confessed that they had been Christians, but afterward
denied the same, &c, affirming unto me the whole sum of that sect or
error to consist in this, that they were wont at certain times
appointed to convent before day, and to sing certain hymns to one
Christ, their God, and to confederate among themselves, to abstain
from all theft, murder, and adultery, to keep their faith, and to
defraud no man; which done, then to depart for that time, and
afterward to resort again to take meat in companies together, both
men and women one with another, and yet without any act of evil.

"In the truth whereof, to be further certified whether it were so or
not, I caused two maidens to be laid on the rack, and with torments
to be examined of the same. But finding no other thing in them but
only lewd and immoderate superstition, I thought to cease further
inquiry, till time that I might be further advertised in the matter
from you; for so the matter seemed unto me worthy and needful of
advisement, especially for the great number of those that were in
danger of your statute. For very many there were of all ages and
states, both men and women, which then were, and more are like
hereafter to incur the same peril of condemnation. For that infection
hath crept not only in cities, but villages also and boroughs about,
which seemeth that it may be stayed and reformed. Forasmuch as we see
in many places that the temples of our gods, which were wont to be
desolate, begin now to be frequented, and that they bring sacrifices
from every part to be sold, which before very few were found willing
to buy. Whereby it may easily be conjectured what multitudes of men
may be amended, if space and time be given them wherein they may be
reclaimed."

To this Trajan replied as follows: "The act and statute, my Secundus,
concerning the causes of the Christians, which ye ought to follow, ye
have rightly executed. For no such general law can be enacted,
wherein all special cases particularly can be comprehended. Let them
not be sought for; but if they be brought and convicted, then let
them suffer execution: notwithstanding, whosoever shall deny himself
to be a Christian, and do it unfeignedly in open audience, and do
sacrifice to our gods, howsoever he hath been suspected before, let
him be released upon promise of amendment. Such libels as have no
names suffice not to any just crime or accusation; for that should
give both an evil precedent, neither doth it agree with the example
of our time."

Tertullian writing upon this letter of Trajan above prefixed, thus
saith: O sentence of a confused necessity! He would not have them to
be sought for as men innocent, and yet causeth them to be punished as
persons guilty. And thus the rage of that persecution ceased for a
time, although notwithstanding many naughty disposed men and cruel
officers there were, which upon false pretence, to accomplish their
wicked minds, ceased not to afflict the Christians in divers
provinces; and especially if any occasion were given never so little
for the enemies to take hold of, or if any commotion were raised in
the provinces abroad, by and by the fault was laid upon the
Christians. As in Jerusalem, after that the emperor Trajan had sent
down his commandment, that whosoever could be found of the stock of
David, he should be inquired out and put to death; upon this
Egesippus writing, saith that certain sectaries there were of the
Jewish nation, that accused Simeon, the bishop then of Jerusalem and
son of Cleophas, to come of the stock of David, and that he was a
Christian. of the which his accusers it happened also (saith the said
Egesippus) that certain of them likewise were apprehended and taken
to be of the stock of David, and so right justly were put to
execution themselves which sought the destruction of others. As
concerning Simeon the blessed bishop, the aforesaid Egesippus thus
writeth: that Simeon the Lord's nephew, when he was accused to
Attalus the proconsul, by the malicious sect of the Jews, to be of
the line of David, and to be a Christian, was scourged during the
space of many days together, being of age a hundred and twenty years.
In which his martyrdom he endured so constant, that both the consul
and all the multitude did marvel to see him of that age so constantly
to suffer; and so at last being crucified, finished his course in the
Lord, for whom he suffered, as partly before also is recorded.

In this persecution of Trajan, above specified, (which Trajan next
followed after Nerva,) besides the other aforementioned, also
suffered Phocas, bishop of Pontus, whom Trajan, because he would not
do sacrifice to Neptune, caused to be cast into a hot lime-kiln, and
afterward to be put into a scalding bath, where the constant godly
martyr, in the testimony of Christ, ended his life, or rather entered
into life.

In the same persecution suffered also Sulpitius and Servilianus, two
Romans; whose wives are said to be Euphrosina and Theodora, whom
Sabina did convert to the faith of Christ, and after were also
martyred. Of which Sabina Jacobus Philippus reporteth that, in the
Mount of Aventine in Rome, she was beheaded of Clepidus the governor,
in the days of Hadrian. Under whom also suffered Seraphia, a virgin
of Antioch, as Hermannus witnesseth.

The forenamed authors, Antoninus and Equilius, make mention moreover
of Nereus and Achilleus, who, in this persecution of Trajan, had the
crown of martyrdom, being put to death at Rome. Eusebius in his
fourth book maketh mention of one Sagaris, who about the same time
suffered martyrdom in Asia, Servilius Paulus being then proconsul in
that province.

In this persecution, beside many others, suffered the blessed martyr
of Christ Ignatius, who unto this day is had in famous reverence
among very many. This Ignatius was appointed to the bishopric of
Antioch next after Peter in succession. Some do say, that he being
sent from Syria to Rome, because he professed Christ, was given to
the wild beasts to be devoured. It is also said of him, that when he
passed through Asia, being under the most strict custody of his
guarders, he strengthened and confirmed the parishes through all the
cities as he went, both with his exhortations and preaching of the
word of God; and admonished them especially and before all other
things to beware and shun those heresies risen up and sprung newly
among them, and that they should cleave and stick fast to the
tradition of the apostles; which he, for their better safeguard,
being about to denounce or put in writing, thought it a thing very
necessary to travail in, And thus when he came to Smyrna, where
Polycarp was, he wrote one epistle to the congregation of Ephesus,
wherein he made mention of Onesimus their pastor; and another he
wrote to the congregation of Magnesia, being at Meandre, wherein also
he forgetteth not Dama their bishop. Also another he wrote to the
congregation of Trallis, the governor of which city at that time he
noteth to be one Polybius; unto which congregation he made an
exhortation, lest they, refusing martyrdom, should lose the hope that
they desired.

But it shall be very requisite that I allege some what thereof to the
declaration of this matter. He wrote, therefore, as the words lie, in
this sort: From Syria, (saith he,) even till I came to Rome, had I a
battle with beasts, as well by sea as land, both day and night, being
bound in the midst of ten cruel libards (that is, the company or band
of the soldiers) which, the more benefits that they received at my
hands, became so much the worse unto me. But I, being exercised and
now well acquainted with their injuries, am taught every day more and
more; but hereby am I not yet justified. And would to God I were once
come to the beasts which are prepared for me, which also I wish with
gaping mouths were ready to come upon me, whom also I will provoke,
that they without delay may devour me, and forbear me nothing at all,
as those whom before they have not touched or hurt for fear. And if
they will not unless they be provoked, I will then enforce them
against myself. Pardon me, I pray you. How much beneficial it is to
me, I know. Now begin I to be a scholar; I force or esteem no visible
things, nor yet invisible, so that I may get or obtain Christ Jesus.
Let the fire, the gallows, the devouring of wild beasts, the breaking
of bones, the pulling asunder of my members, the bruising or pressing
of my whole body, and the torments of the devil or hell itself, come
upon me, so that I may win Christ Jesus.

And these things wrote he from the foresaid city unto the
congregations which we have recited. And when he was even now judged
to be thrown to the beasts, he spake, for the burning desire that he
had to suffer, what time he heard the lions roaring: I am the wheat
or grain (saith he) of Christ, I shall be ground with the teeth of
wild beasts, that I may be found pure bread. He suffered in the
eleventh year of Trajan the emperor.

Besides this godly Ignatius, many thousands also were put to death in
the same persecution, as appeareth by the letter of Plinius Secundus
above recited, written unto the emperor.

Next after this Trajan succeeded Hadrian the emperor, under whom
suffered Alexander the bishop of Rome, with his two deacons Euentius 
and Theo dorus; also Hermes and Quirinus, with their families, as
late before was declared.

It is signified, moreover, in the histories, that in the time of
Hadrian, Zenon, a nobleman of Rome, with ten thousand two hundred and
three, were slain for Christ. Henricus and Bergomensis make mention
of ten thousand in the days of this Hadrian to be crucified in the
Mount Hararath, crowned with crowns of thorn, and thrust into the
sides with sharp darts, after the example of the Lord's passion,
whose captains were Achaicus, Heliades, Theodorus, and Carcerius, &c.
Whether this story be the same with the other above of Zenon or not,
it is doubted. As touching the miracles done, and the speaking of the
angel, I refer the certainty thereof to Vincentius, and such other
like authors, where more things seem to be told than to be true.

There was one Eustachius, a captain, whom Trajan in time past had
sent out to war against the barbarians. After he had, by God's grace,
valiantly subdued his enemies, and now was returning home with
victory, Hadrian, for joy, meeting him in his journey to bring him
home with triumph, by the way, first would do sacrifice to Apollo for
the victory gotten, willing also Eustachius to do the same with him.
But when Eustachius could by no means thereto be enforced, being
brought to Rome, there with his wife and children he suffered
martyrdom under the foresaid Hadrian. It were a long process here to
recite all the miracles contained, or rather suspected, in this story
of this Eustachius concerning his conversion and death: how the
crucifix appeared to him between the horns of a hart; of the saving
of his wife from the shipmen; of one of his sons saved from the lion,
the other saved from the wolf; of their miraculous preservation from
the wild beasts, from the torments of fire mentioned in Bergomensis,
Vincentius, and others. All which, as I find them in no ancient
records, so I leave them to their authors and compilers of the
legends.

We read also of Faustinus and Jobita, citizens of Lhe city of Brixia,
which suffered martyrdom with like grievous torments. At the sight
whereof one Galocerius, seeing their so great patience in so great
torments, cried out with these words, Verily, great is the God of
Christians! Which words being heard, forthwith he was apprehended,
and being brought to the place of their execution, was made partaker
of their martyrdom.

The history of Nicephorus maketh mention of Anthia, a godly woman,
who committed her son Eleutherius to Anicetus, bishop of Rome, to be
brought up in the doctrine of Christian faith, who, afterwards being
bishop in Apulia, was there beheaded with his foresaid mother Anthia.

Justus also, and Pastor, two brethren, with like martyrdom ended
their lives in a city of Spain, called Complutum, under the said
Hadrian the emperor.

Likewise Symphorissa, the wife of Getulus the martyr, with her seven
children, is said about the same time to suffer; who first was much
and often beaten and scourged, afterwards was hanged up by the hair
of her head; at last having a huge stone fastened unto her, was
thrown headlong into the river; and after that her seven children, in
like manner, with sundry and divers kinds of punishment diversly
martyred by the tyrant.

The story of M. Hermannus, and Antoninus, and others, report of
Sophia, with her three children also, also of Seraphia and Sabina, to
suffer under the said emperor, about the year of our Lord one hundred
and thirty.

As concerning Alexander, bishop of Rome, with his two deacons, also
with Hermes, Quirinus, Saphira, and Sabina, some writers, as Bede and
Marianus Scotus, record that they suffered under Trajan. Others
again, as Otto, Frisingensis, with like more, report that they
suffered in the fourth year of this emperor Hadrian; but of these
martyrs sufficiently hath been said before.

While Hadrian the emperor was at Athens, he purposed to visit the
country of Elusina, and so did; where he sacrificing to the Gentiles'
gods, after the manner of the Grecians, had given free leave and
liberty, whosoever would, to persecute the Christians. Whereupon
Quadratus, a man of no less excellent zeal than of famous learning,
being then bishop of Athens, and disciple of the apostles, or at
least succeeding incontinent the age of the apostles, and following
after Publius, (who a little before was martyred for the testimony of
Christ,) did offer up and exhibit unto Hadrian the emperor a learned
and excellent apology in the defence of the Christian religion.
Wherein he declared the Christians, without all just cause or desert,
to be so cruelly entreated and persecuted, &c. The like also did
Aristides, another no less excellent philosopher in Athens, who for
his singular learning and eloquence being notified to the emperor,
and coming to his presence, there made before him an eloquent
oration. Moreover, he did exhibit unto the said emperor a memorable
apology for the Christians, so full of learning and eloquence, that,
as Hierom saith, it was a spectacle and admiration to men in his
time, that loved to see wit and learning. Over and besides these,
there was also another named Serenus Granius, a man of great
nobility, who likewise did write very pithy and grave letters to
Hadrian the emperor, showing and declaring therein that it was
consonant with no right nor reason for the blood of innocents to be
given to the rage and fury of the people, and so to be condemned for
no fault, only for the name and sect that they followed.

Thus the goodness of God being moved with the prayers and constant
labour of these so excellent men, so turned the heart of the emperor,
that he being better informed concerning the order and profession of
the Christians, became more favourable unto them; and immediately
upon the same directed his letters to Minutius Fundanus, (as is
partly before mentioned,) proconsul of Asia, willing him from
henceforth to exercise no more such extremity against the Christians,
as to condemn any of them, having no other crime objected against
them but only their name. The copy of which his letter, because that
Justin in his apology doth allege it, I thought therefore to express
the same in his own words, as followeth.

"I have received an epistle written unto me from Serenus Granius, our
right worthy and well-beloved, whose office you do now execute.
Therefore I think it not good to leave this matter without further
advisement and circumspection to pass, lest our subjects be molested,
and malicious sycophants boldened and supported in their evil.
Wherefore if the subjects of our provinces do bring forth any accus
ation before the judge against the Christians, and can prove the
thing they object against them, let them do the same, and no more,
and otherwise, for the name only, not to impeach them, nor to cry out
against them. For so, more convenient it is, that, if any man will be
an accuser, you take the accusation quietly, and judge upon the same.
Therefore, if any shall accuse the Christians, and complain of them
as malefactors, doing contrary to the law, then give you judgment
according to the quality of the crime. But, notwithstanding,
whosoever upon spite and maliciousness shall commence or cavil
against them, see you correct and punish that man for his inordinate
and malicious dealing."

Thus by the merciful providence of God some more quiet and rest was
given to the church, although Hermannus thinketh these halcyon days
did not very long continue, but that the emperor changing his edict,
began to renew again persecution of God's people; albeit this
soundeth not to be so by the words of Melito in his apology to
Antoninus hereafter ensuing. In the mean time this is certain, that
in the days of this Hadrian the Jews rebelled again and spoiled the
country of Palestina. Against whom the emperor sent Julius Severus,
who overthrew in Jewry fifty castles, and burnt and destroyed nine
hundred and fourscore villages and towns, and slew of the Jews fifty
thousand
with famine, sickness, sword, and fire. Judah was almost desolate.
But at length Hadrian the emperor, which otherwise was named Ælius,
repaired and enlarged the city of Jerusalem. which was called after
his name Æliopolis, or Ælia Capitolina, the inhabitance whereof he
granted only to the Gentiles and to the Christians, forbidding the
Jews utterly to enter into the city.

After the death of Hadrian, who died by bleeding at the nose,
succeeded Antoninus Pius, about the year of our Lord one hundred and
thirty-eight, and reigned twenty and three years, who, for his
clemency and modest behaviour, had the name of Pius, and is for the
same in histories commended. His saying was, that he had rather save
one citizen than destroy a thousand of his adversaries. At the
beginning of his reign, such was the state of the church, as Hadrian
his predecessor had left it, that although there was no edict set
forth to persecute the Christians, yet the tumultuous rage of the
heathen multitude, for the causes above specified, did not cease to
disquiet and afflict the quiet people of God, imputing and ascribing
to the Christians whatsoever misfortune happened contrary unto their
desires; moreover, inventing against them all false crimes and
contumelies whereof to accuse them. By reason whereof divers there
were in sundry places much molested, and some put to death; albeit,
as it is to be supposed, not by the consent of the emperor, who of
nature was so mild and gentle, that either he raised up no
persecution against the Christians, or else he soon stayed the same
being moved; as well may appear by his letter sent down to the
countries of Asia, the tenor whereof here ensueth.

"Emperor and Cæsar, Aurelius Antoninus Augustus, Armenicus, Pontifex
Maximus, tribune eleven times, consul thrice, unto the commons of
Asia, greeting. I am very certain that the gods have a care of this,
that they which be such shall be known, and not lie hid. For they do
punish them that will not worship them more than you, which so sore
vex and trouble them, confirming thereby the opinion which they have
conceived and do conceive of you, that is, to be wicked men. For this
is their joy and desire, that when they are accused, rather they
covet to die for their God than to live. Whereby they are victors,
and do overcome you; giving rather their lives than to be obedient to
you, in doing that which you require of them. And here it shall not
be inconvenient to advertise you of the earthquakes which have and do
happen among us, that when at the sight of them you tremble and are
afraid, then you may confer your case with them. For they, upon a
sure confidence of their God, are bold and fearless, much more than
you; who in all the time of this your ignorance both do worship other
gods and neglect the religion of immortality, and such Christians as
worship him, them you do drive out, and persecute them unto death. Of
these and such-like matters many presidents of our provinces did
write to our father of famous memory heretofore. To whom he directed
his answer again, willing them in no case to molest the Christians,
except they were found in some trespass prejudicial against the
empire of Rome. And to me also many there be which write, signifying
their mind in like manner; to whom I have answered again to the same
effect and manner as my father did. Wherefore if any hereafter shall
offer any vexation or trouble to such, having no other cause but only
for that they are such, let him that is appeached be released and
discharged free, yea, although he be found to be such, (that is, a
Christian,) and let the accuser sustain the punishment," &c.

This godly edict of the emperor was proclaimed at Ephesus, in the
public assembly of all Asia; whereof Melito, also bishop of Sardis,
who flourished in the same time, maketh mention in his apology
written in defence of our doctrine to M. Antoninus Verus, as
hereafter (Christ willing) shall appear. By this means, then, the
tempest of persecution in those days began to be appeased, through
the mer ciful providence of God, which would not have his church
utterly to be overthrown, though hardly yet to grow.



6. THE FOURTH PERSECUTION UNDER ANTONINUS VERUS

After the decease of the foresaid quiet and mild prince Aurelius
Antoninus Pius (who, among all other emperors of that time, made the
most quiet end) followed his son M. Antoninus Verus, with Lucius his
brother, about the year of our Lord one hundred threescore and one, a
man of nature more stern and severe. And although in study of
philosophy and in civil government no less commendable, yet toward
the Christians sharp and fierce; by whom was moved the fourth
persecution after Nero. In whose time a great number of them which
truly professed Christ suffered most
cruel torments and punishments, both in Asia and France. In the
number of whom was Polycarp, the worthy bishop of Smyrna, who in the
great rage of this persecution in Asia, among many other most
constant saints, was also martyred. Of whose end and martyrdom I
thought it here not inexpedient to commit to history, so much as
Eusebius declareth to be taken out of a certain letter or epistle,
written by them of his own church to the brethren of Pontus; the
tenor of which epistle here followeth.

The congregation which is at Smyrna, to the congregation which is at
Philomilium, and to all the congregations throughout Pontus, mercy to
you, peace, and the love of God our Father, and of our Lord Jesus
Christ. be multiplied. Amen. We have written unto you, brethren, of
those men which have suffered martyrdom. and of blessed Polycarp,
which hath ended and appeased this persecution, as it were, by the
shedding of his own blood. And in the same epistle, before they enter
into further matter of Polycarp, they discourse of other martyrs,
describing what patience they abode and showed in suffering their
torments; which was so great and admirable, (saith the epistle,) that
the lookers on were amazed, seeing and beholding how they were so
scourged and whipped, that the inward veins and arteries appeared.
yea, even so much that the very entrails of their bodies, their
bowels and members, were seen; and after that were set upon sharp
shells taken out of the sea, edged and sharp. and certain nails and
thorns for the martyrs to go upon, which were sharpened and pointed,
called obelisci. Thus suffered they all kind of punishment and
torment that might be devised; and lastly were thrown unto the wild
beasts to be devoured. But especially, in the aforesaid epistle
mention is made of one Germanicus, how he most worthily persevered
and overcame, by the grace of God, that fear of death which
isingrafted in the common nature of all men, whose notable patience
and sufferance was so notable, that the whole multitude wondering at
this beloved martyr of God, for this his so bold constancy, and also
for the singular strength and virtue proceeding of the whole
multitude of the Christians, began suddenly to cry with a loud voice,
saying, Destroy the wicked men, let Polycarp be sought for. And
whilst a great up roar and tumult began thus to be raised upon those
cries, a certain Phrygian named Quintus, lately come out of Phrygia,
seeing and abhorring the wild beasts, and the fierce rage of them, of
an over-light mind betrayed his own safety. For so the same letter of
him doth report, that he, not reverently, but more malapertly than
was requisite, together with others, rushed into the judgment place,
and so being taken, was made a manifest example to all the beholders,
that no man ought rashly and unreverently with such boldness to
thrust in himself, to intermeddle in matters wherewith he hath not to
do.

But now we will surcease to speak more of them, and return to
Polycarp, of whom the foresaid letter consequently declareth as
followeth: How that in the beginning, when he heard of these things,
was nothing at all afraid nor disquieted in mind, but purposed to
have tarried still in the city, till being persuaded by the entreaty
of them that were about him, (which desired him instantly that he
would convey himself away,) hid himself in a grange or village not
far off from the city, and there abiding, with a few more in his
company, did nothing else (night nor day) but abode in supplication,
wherein he made his humble petition for the obtaining of peace unto
all the congregations throughout the world, for that was his
accustomed manner so to do. And as he was thus making his prayers
three days before he was apprehended, in a vision by night, he saw
the bed set on fire under his head, and suddenly to be consumed. And
when he awaked, he told by and by, and expounded unto them that were
present, his vision, and told them before what thing should come to
pass; that is, how that in the fire he should lose his life for
Christ's cause. It is further mentioned, that when they were hard at
hand which so narrowly sought for him, that he was enforced for the
affection and love of his brethren to fly into another village, to
which place notwithstanding, within a little while after, the
pursuers came; and when they had taken a couple of children that
dwelt thereabouts, they so beat one of them with whips, that by the
bewraying or confession of him they were brought unto the inn where
Polycarp was. And they say that the pursuers, making no great haste
to enter, found him in the uppermost place of the house, from whence
he might have escaped into other houses, if he would; but this he
would not do, saying, The will of God be done. Furthermore, when he
knew that they were come, as the said history showeth, he came down,
and spake unto them with a cheerful and pleasant countenance; so that
it was a wonder to see those which a while agone knew not the man,
now beholding and viewing his comely age, and his grave and constant
countenance, lamented that they had so much employed their labour,
that so aged a man should be apprehended. To conclude, he commanded
that straightway, without any delay, the table should be laid for
them, and persuaded them that they would eat and dine well, and
required of them boldly that he might have an hour's respite to make
his prayers. Which thing, after it was granted, he arose and went to
pray, so being replenished with the grace of God, that they which
were present, and hearing the prayers that he made, were astonished
at it, and now many of them were sorry that so honest and godly an
aged man should be put to death.

After this, the aforesaid epistle or letter, prosecuting the history,
addeth more, as followeth: After he had made an end of his prayers,
and had called to his remembrance all those things which ever
happened unto him, and to the universal catholic church throughout
all the world, (whether they were small or great, glorious or
elseinglorious,) and that the hour was now come in which they ought
to set forward, they set him upon an ass, and brought him to the city
upon a solemn feast day. And there met him Irenæus Herodes, and his
father Nicetes, which causing him to come up into the chariot where
they sat, persuaded him, and said, What hurt, I pray thee, shall come
thereof to thee, if thou say, (by the way of salutation,) My Lord
Cæsar, and do sacrifice, and thus to save thyself? But he at the
beginning made them none answer, till that when they enforced him to
speak, he said, I will not do as ye counsel me I should. When, as
they saw he could not be persuaded, they gave him very rough
language, and of purpose molested him that in going down the chariot
from them he might hurt or break his legs. But he forcing very light
of the matter, as though he had felt no hurt, went merrily and,
diligently forward, making haste unto the place appointed. And when
there was such uproar in the place of execution, that he could not be
heard but of very few, there came a voice from heaven to Polycarp, as
he was going into the stage, or appointed place of judgment, saying,
Be of good cheer, Polycarp, and play the man. No man there was which
saw him that spake, but very many of us heard his voice. And when he
was brought in, there was a great noise made by them which understood
that Polycarp was apprehended. The proconsul asked him, when he was
come, whether his name was Polycarp or not. And when he said, Yea, it
was, he gave him counsel to deny his name, and said unto him, Be good
unto thyself, and favour thine old age; and many other such-like
words which they accustom to speak. Swear, saith he, by the emperor's
good fortune; look upon this matter; say thou with us, Destroy these
naughty men. Then Polycarp, beholding with constant countenance the
whole multitude which was in the place appointed, and giving a great
sigh, looked up to heaven, saying, Thou, thou it is that wilt destroy
these wicked, naughty men. And the proconsul thus being earnestly in 
hand with him, said, Take thine oath, and I will discharge thee; defy
Christ. Polycarp answered, Fourscore and six years have I been his
servant, yet in all this time hath he not so much as once hurt me;
how then may I speak evil of my King and sovereign Lord, which hath
thus preserved me? Then the proconsul again enforced him, and said,
Swear thou, I advise thee, by Cæsar's prosperity. Polycarp replieth,
If thou require of me this fond word of vain boasting, feigning not
to know (as thou sayest) who I am, I do thee to wit that I am a
Christian; and if thou desire to know the doctrine of Christianity,
appoint a day, and thou shalt hear. Persuade the people unto this,
said the proconsul. Truly, saith Polycarp, I have thought it my part
thus to say unto you, for so much as we are commanded to give unto
the governors and powers ordained of God the honour meet and due to
them, and not hurtful unto us; but as for those, I do judge them
unworthy to purge myself unto them. Hereupon the proconsul stood up;
I have, saith he, wild beasts, to whom I will throw thee, unless thou
take a better way. Whereunto Polycarp answered, Let them come; we
have determined with ourselves that we will not by repentance turn us
from the better way to the worse, but rather convenient it is that a
man turn from things that be evil unto that which is good and just.
Again, saith the proconsul, I will tame thee with fire, if that thou
set not by the wild beasts, nor yet repent. Then said Polycarp, You
threaten me with fire which shall burn for the space of an hour, and
shall be within a little while after put out and extinguished; but
thou knowest not the fire of the judgment that is to come, and of
everlasting punishment, which is reserved for the wicked and ungodly.
But why make you all these delays? Give me what death soever ye list.
These, and many other such-like things being by him spoken, he was
replenished with joy and boldness; and his countenance appeared so
full of grace and favour, that not only he was not troubled with
those things which the proconsul spake unto him, but contrarily the
proconsul himself began to be amazed, and sent for the crier, which
in the middle of the stage was commanded to cry three times, Polycarp
hath confessed himself to be a Christian; which words of the crier
were no sooner spoken, but all the whole multitude, both of Gentiles
and Jews inhabiting at Smyrna, with a vehement rage and loud voice,
cried, This is that doctor or teacher of Asia, the father of the
Christians, and the destroyer of our gods, which hath instructed a
great number that our gods are not to be worshipped. And after this
they cried unto Philip the governor of Asia, and required him that he
would let loose the lion to Polycarp. To whom he made answer, that he
might not so do, because he had already his prey. Then they cried
again all together with one voice, that he would burn Polycarp alive.
For it was requisite that the vision which he saw, as concerning his
pillow or bolster, should be fulfilled; which when he had seen burnt,
as he was in his prayer, he turned himself unto the faithful sort
which were with him, saying, by the way of prophecy, It will so come
that I shall be burned alive. And the proconsul had no sooner spoken
but it was out of hand performed. For why? The multitude by and by
brought out of their shops, work-houses, and barns, wood and other
dry matter for that purpose; and especially the Jews were most
serviceable for that matter, after their wonted manner.
(Illustration: The martrydom of St. Polycarp )

And thus the pile being laid, and when he had now put off his
garments, and undone his girdle, and was about to pull off his shoes,
which he had not done before, for that all the faithful sort among
themselves strived as it were who should first touch his body at
their farewell, because for the good conversation of his life, even
from his younger age, he was had in great estimation of all men.
Therefore straightway those instruments which are requisite to such a
bonfire were brought unto him;
and when they would have nailed him to the stake with iron hoops, he
said, Let me alone as I am, for he that hath given me strength to
suffer and abide the fire, shall also give power, that without this
your provision of nails I shall abide, and not stir in the midst of
this fire or pile of wood. Which thing when they heard, they did not
nail him, but bound him. Therefore when his hands were bound behind
him, even as the chiefest ram taken out of the flock, he was
sacrificed as an acceptable burnt offering to God, saying, O Father
of thy well-beloved and blessed Son Jesus Christ, by whom we have
attained the knowledge of thee, the God of angels and powers, and of
every creature, and of all just men which live before thee, I give
thee thanks that thou hast vouchsafed to grant me this day, that I
may have my part among the number of the martyrs in the cup of
Christ, unto the resurrection of eternal life, both of body and soul,
through the operation of thy Holy Spirit; among whom I shall this day
be received into thy sight for an acceptable sacrifice: and as thou
hast prepared and revealed the same before this time, so thou hast
accomplished the same, O thou most true God, which canst not lie.
Wherefore I in like case for all things praise thee, and bless thee,
and glorify thee by our ever lasting Bishop, Jesus Christ, to whom be
glory evermore. Amen.

And as soon as he had ended this word Amen, and finished his prayer,
the tormentors began to kindle the fire; and as the flame flashed out
vehemently, we, to whom it was given to discern the same, saw a
marvellous matter; which were also to this purpose preserved, that we
might show the same to others, For the fire being made like unto a
roof or vault of a house, and after the manner of a shipman's sail,
filled with wind, compassed about the body of the martyr, as with a
certain wall, and he, in the middle of the same, not as flesh that
burned, but as gold and silver when it is tried in the fire. And
surely we smelt a savour so sweet, as if myrrh or some other precious
balm had given a scent, at the last, when those wicked persons saw
that his body could not be consumed by fire, they commanded one of
the tormentors to come unto him, and thrust him through with his
sword; which being done, so great a quantity of blood ran out of his
body, that the fire was quenched therewith, and the whole multitude
marvelled that there was so much diversity between the infidels and
the elect, of whom this Polycarp was one, being a disciple of the
apostles, and a prophetical instructor of our times, and bishop of
the catholic church of Smyrna; for what word soever he spake, both it
was and shall be accomplished. But the subtle and envious adversary,
when he saw the worthiness of his martyrdom, and that his
conversation even from his younger years could not be reproved, and
that he was adorned with the crown of martyrdom, and had now obtained
that incomparable benefit, gave in charge that we should not take and
divide his body, for fear lest the remnants of the dead corpse should
be taken away, and so worshipped of the people. Whereupon divers
whispered Niceta the father of Herod, and his brother Dalces, in the
ear, to admonish the proconsul that in no case he should deliver his
body, lest (saith he) they leave Christ and begin to worship him. And
this spake they, because the Jews had given them secret warning, and
provoked them thereunto; who also watched us, that we should not take
him out of the fire; not being ignorant how that we meant at no time
to forsake Christ, which gave his life for the salvation of the whole
world, (as many I mean as are elected to salvation by him,) neither
yet that we could worship any other. For why? Him we worship as the
Son of God, but the martyrs do we love as disciples of the Lord, (and
that worthily,) for their abundant love towards their King and
Master, of when we also desire and wish to be companions, aud to be
made his disciples. When therefore the centurion saw and perceived
the labour of the Jews, the corpse being laid abroad, they burnt the
same, as was their manner to do.

Thus good Polycarp, with twelve others that came from Philadelphia,
suffered martyrdom at Smyrna; which Polycarp, specially above the
rest, is had in memory, so that he in all places among the Gentiles
is most famous. And this was the end of this worthy disciple of the
apostles, whose history the brethren of the congregation of Smyrna
have written in this their epistle, as is above recited.

Irenæus, in his third book against Heresies, the third chapter, and
Eusebius, in his fourth book and fourteenth chapter of his
Ecclesiastical History, reporteth this worthy saying of Polycarp:
This Polycarp (saith he) meeting at a certain time Marcion, the
heretic, who said to him, Dost thou not know me? made answer, I know
that thou art the first begotten of Satan. So little fear what evil
might ensue thereof had the disciples of the apostles, that they
would not speak to them whom they knew to be the depravers of the
verity, even as Paul saith, The heretic, after the first and second
admonition, shun and avoid, knowing that he which is such a one is
perverse or froward, and damneth himself. This most holy confessor
and martyr of Christ, Polycarp, suffered death in the fourth
persecution after Nero, when Marcus Antoninus, and Lucius Aurelius
Commodus reigned, in the year of our Lord one hundred threescore and
seven, as Ursperg affirmeth, in the year one hundred threescore and
ten, as Eusebius witnesseth in his chronicles, the seventh before the
kalends of February.

Of Germanicus mention is made above in the story of Polycarp, of whom
writeth Eusebius, noting him to be a young man, and most constantly
to persevere in the profession of Christ's doctrine; whom when the
proconsul went to persuade to remember his age, and to favour
himself, being in the flower of his age, he would not be allured, but
con stantly and boldly, and of his own accord, incited and provoked
the wild beasts to come upon him, and to devour him, to be delivered
more speedily out of this wretched life.

Thus have you heard out of the epistle of the brethren of Smyrna the
whole order and life of Polycarp, whereby it may appear that he was a
very aged man, who had served Christ fourscore and six years since
the first knowledge of him, and served also in the ministry about the
space of threescore and ten years. This Polycarp was the scholar and
hearer of John the evangelist, and was placed by the said John in
Smyrna. Of him also Ignatius maketh mention in his epistle which he
wrote in his journey to Rome, going toward his martyrdom, and
commendeth to him the government of his church at Antioch, whereby it
appeareth that Polycarp was then in the ministry. Likewise Irenæus
writeth of the said Polycarp after this manner: He always taught
(said he) those things which he learned of the apostles (leaving them
to the church) and are only true. Whereunto also all the churches
that be in Asia, and all they which succeeded after Polycarp, to this
day bear witness. And the same Irenæus witnesseth also that the said
Polycarp wrote an epistle to the Philippians, which whether it be the
same that is now extant and read in the name of Polycarp, it is
doubted of some; notwithstanding, in the said epistle divers things
are found very wholesome and apostolic; as where he teacheth of
Christ, of judgment, and of the resurrection. Also he writeth of
faith very worthily, thus declaring, that by grace we are saved, and
not by works, but in the will of God by Jesus Christ.

In Eusebius we read in like manner a part of an epistle written by
Irenæus to Florinus, wherein is declared how that the said Irenæus
being yet young, was with Polycarp in Asia; at what time he saw and
well remembered what Polycarp did, and the place where he sat
teaching, his whole order of life and proportion of his body, with
the sermons and words which he said to the people. And furthermore,
he perfectly remembered how that the said Polycarp oftentimes
reported unto him those things which he learned and heard them speak
of the Lord's doings, power, and doctrine, who heard the word of life
with their own ears, all which were more constant and agreeable to
the Holy Scripture. This, with much more, hath Irenæus concerning
Polycarp.

Hierom also, writing of the same Polycarp, hath, how he was in great
estimation throughout all Asia, for that he was scholar to the
apostles, and to them which did see and were conversant with Christ
himself; whereby it is to be conjectured his authority to be much,
not only with them of his own church, but with all other churches
about him.

Over and besides, it is witnessed by the said Irenæus, that Polycarp
came to Rome in the time of Anicetus bishop of Rome, about the year
of our Lord one hundred fifty and seven, in the reign of Antoninus
Pius, whose cause of his coming thither appeareth to be about the
controversy of Easter day; wherein the Asians and the Romans some
thing disagreed among themselves. And therefore the said Polycarp, in
the behalf of the brethren and church of Asia, took his long journey
thither, to come and confer with Anicetus. Whereof writeth also
Nicephorus, declaring that Polycarp and Anicetus something varied in
opinions and judgment about that matter, and that, notwithstanding,
yet both friendly communicated either with the other, insomuch that
Anicetus in his church gave place to Polycarp to minister the
communion and sacrament of the Lord's supper, for honour sake. Which
may be a notable testimony now to us, that the doctrine concerning
the free use and liberty of ceremonies was at that time retained in
the church without any offence of stomach, or breach of Christian
peace in the church.

This Polycarp (as is above mentioned) suffered his martyrdom even in
his own church at Smyrna, where he had laboured so many years in
planting of the gospel of Christ, which was about the year of our
Lord a hundred threescore and ten, as Eusebius reckoneth in his
Chronicle, and in the seventh year of Antoninus Verus's reign;
whereby it appeareth that Socrates was much deceived, saying that
Polycarp suffered in the time of Gordianus.

In this fourth persecution, besides Polycarp and others mentioned
before, we read also in Eusebius of divers others, who at the same
time likewise did suffer at Smyrna.

Over and besides, in the same persecution suffered moreover
Metrodorus, a minister, who was given to the fire, and so consumed.
Another was worthy Pionius, which after much boldness of speech, with
his apologies exhibited, and his sermons made to the people in the
defence of Christian faith, and after much relieving and comforting
of such as were in prisons, and otherwise discomforted, at last was
put to cruel torments and afflictions, then given likewise to the
fire, and so finished his blessed martyrdom.

After these also suffered Carpus, Papilus, and Agathonica, a wonlan,
who, after their most constant and worthy confessions, were put to
death at Pergamopolis in Asia.

And as these suffered in Asia, so in Rome suffered Felicitas with her
seven children, who under this M. Antoninus Verus sustained also the
cruelty of this persecution. The names of whose children Bergomensis
and other histories do thus recite:
Januarius, Felix, Philip, Silvanus, Alexander, Vitalis, Martialis. Of
whom her first and eldest son, Januarius, after he was whipped and
scourged with rods, was pressed to death with leaden weights. Felix
and Philip had their brains beaten out with mauls. Silvanus was cast
down headlong, and had his neck broken. Furthermore, Alexander,
Vitalis, and Martialis were beheaded. Last of all Felicitas, the
mother, (otherwise than the accustomed manner was for such as had
borne children,) was slain with the sword.

In the rage of this persecution suffered also good Justin, a man in
learning and philosophy excellent, and a great defender of Christian
religion, who first exhibited unto the emperor, and to the senate, a
book or apology in the defence of the Christians, and afterward
himself also died a martyr. Of whom in the history of Eusebius it is
thus recorded: that about what time, or a little before, that
Polycarp with divers other saints suffered martyrdom in Pergamopolis,
a city of Asia, this Justin (as is aforesaid) presented a book in
defence of our doctrine to the emperor, to wit, unto Antoninus, and
to the senate. After which he was also crowned with like martyrdom
unto those whom he in his book had defended, through the malicious
means and crafty circumvention of Crescens.

This Crescens was a philosopher, conforming his life and manners to
the cynical sect, whom because this Justin had reproved in open
audience, and had borne away the victory of the truth which he
defended; he, therefore, as much as in him lay, did work and procure
unto him this crown of martyrdom. And this did also Justin himself, a
philosopher no less famous by his profession, foresee and declare in
his foresaid Apology; telling almost all those things beforehand
which should happen unto him by these words, saying, And I look after
this good turn, that I be slain going by the way, either of some of
those whom I have named, and to have my brains beaten out with a bat,
or else of Crescens, whom I cannot call a philosopher, but rather a
vain boaster. For it is not convenient to call him a philosopher,
which openly professeth things to him unknown, and whereof he hath no
skill, saying and reporting of us that the Christians be ungodly and
irreligious; and all to please and flatter them which are seduced by
error.

For whether he objecteth against us the doctrine of the Christians
which he hath not read, yet is he very malicious, and worse than the
unlearned idiots, who for the most part use not to dispute or judge
of things they know not, and to bear witness of the same. Or put the
case that he had read it, yet understandeth he not the majesty of the
matters therein contained: or, if peradventure he understandeth them,
and doth it for this purpose, that he would not be counted as one of
them; then is he so much the more wicked and malicious, and the
bondslave of vile and beastly both fame and fear. For this I testify
of him, giving you truly to understand that for a truth which I
declare unto you, how that I have opposed him, and have put unto him
many questions, whereby I know and perceive that he understandeth
nothing. But if so be that this our disputation with him hath not
come unto your ears, I am ready to communicate unto you again those
questions which I demanded of him, which things shall not be unfit
for your princely honour to hear. But if ye know and understand both
what things I have examined him of, as also what answer he hath made,
it shall be apparent unto you that he is altogether ignorant of our
doctrine and learning; or else if he knoweth the same, he dare not
utter it for fear of his auditors; which thing, as I said before, is
a proof that he is no philosopher, but a slave to vain-glory, which
maketh none account of that which his own master Socrates had in so
great estimation. And thus much of Justin out of Justin himself.

Now, to verify that which Justin here of himself doth prophesy, that
Crescens would and did procure his death, Tacianus (a man brought up
of a child in the institutions of the Gentiles, and obtained in the
same not a little fame, and which also left behind him many good
monuments and commentaries) writeth in his book against the Gentiles
in this sort: And Justin, (saith he,) that most excellent learned
man, full well spake and uttered his mind, that the afore-recited men
were like unto thieves or liars by the highway side. And in the said
book, speaking afterward of certain philosophers, the said Tacianus
inferreth thus: Crescens therefore, (saith he,) when he came first
into that great city, passed all others in the vicious love of
children, and was very much given to covetousness; and where he
taught that men ought not to regard death, he himself doth fear
death, and he did all his endeavour to oppress Justin with death, as
with the most greatest evil that was, and all because that Justin,
speaking truth, reproved the philosophers to be men only for the
belly, and deceivers: and this was the cause of Justin's martyrdom.
Hierom in his Ecclesiastical Catalogue thus writeth: Justin, when in
the city of Rome he had his disputations, and had reproved Crescens
the cynic for a great blasphemer of the Christians, for a belly-god,
and a man fearing death, and also a follower of lust and lechery; at
last by his endeavour and conspiracy was accused to be a Christian,
and for Christ shed his blood, in the year of our Lord one hundred
fifty and four, under Marcus Antoninus, as the Chronicles do witness,
Abbas Urspergensis, and Eusebius in his Chronicle, in the thirteenth
year of the emperor Antoninus.

Among these above recited is also to be numbered Praxedis, a blessed
virgin, the daughter of a citizen of Rome, who in the time of
Anicetus, there bishop, was so brought up in the doctrine of Christ,
and so affected to his religion, that she, with her sister
Potentiana, bestowed all her patrimony upon the relieving of poor
Christians, giving all her time to fasting and prayer, and to the
burying of the bodies of the martyrs. And after she had made free all
her family, with her servants, after the death of her sister, she
also departed, and was buried in peace.

Under the same Antoninus also suffered Ptolomeus and Lucius, for the
confession of Christ, in a city of Egypt, called Alexandrina; whose
history, because it is decribed in the Apology of Justin Martyr, I
thought therefore so to set forth the same, as it is alleged in
Eusebius, declaring the manner and occasion thereof, in words and
effect as followeth, &c.

There was (saith he) a certain woman married unto a husband, who was
given much to lasciviousness, whereunto she herself in times past was
also addicted. But she, afterward being instructed in the Christian
religion, became chaste herself, and also persuaded her husband to
live chastely; oftentimes telling him that it was written in the
precepts of the Christians, that they should be punished eternally
which lived not chastely and justly in this life. But he still
continuing in his filthiness, thereby caused his wife to estrange
herself from his company. For why? The woman thought it not
convenient to continue in her husband's company, which, contemning
the law of nature, sought otherwise to satisfy his filthy appetite.
Therefore she was purposed to be divorced from him. But her
neighbours and kinsfolk provoked her, by promising his amendment, to
keep company again with him, and so she did. But he after this took
his journey into Alexandria; and when it was showed her that there he
lived more licentiously than at any time before, for that she would
not be counted partaker of his incestuous life, by coupling herself
any longer with him, she gave him a letter of divorce, and so
departed from him. Then her husband, who ought rather to have
rejoiced to have so honest and chaste a wife, which not only would
not commit any dishonest thing her self, but also could not abide any
lewd or misordered behaviour in her husband; and that by this her
separation she went about to reclaim him from his incest and
wickedness to better amendment of life; he, in recompence to his wife
again, accused her to be a Christian, which at that time was no less
than death. Whereupon she, being in great peril and danger, delivered
up unto the emperor (as Justin in his Apology, writing to the emperor
himself, declareth) a supplication, desiring and craving of his
majesty, first, to grant her so much licence as to set her family in
order; and, that done, afterward to come again and make answer to all
that might or should be laid against her: whereunto the emperor
condescended. Then her husband, seeing that he could have no
advantage against her, devised with himself how he might bring
Ptolomeus (which was her instructor in the faith of Christ) in
trouble and accusation; using the means of a certain centurion, who
was his very friend, whom he persuaded to examine Ptolomeus, whether
he were a Christian or not. Ptolomeus (as one that loved the truth,
and not thinking good to hide his profession) confessed no less than
to the examiner, openly declaring that he had (as truth was) taught
and professed the verity of Christian doctrine. For whoso denieth
himself to be that he is, either condemneth in denying the thing that
he is, or maketh himself unworthy of that the confession whereof he
flieth, which thing is never found in a true and sincere Christian.
Thus then he being brought before Urbicius the judge, and by him
condemned to suffer, one Lucius, being also a Christian, standing by,
and seeing the wrong judgment and hasty sentence of the judge, said
to Urbicius, What reason, I pray you, or equity is this, that this
man, who is neither adulterer, nor fornicator, nor homicide, nor
felon, neither hath committed any such crime, wherewith he may be
charged, is thus condemned only for his name and confession of a
Christian? This condemnation, and this manner of judgments, (O
Urbicius,) are neither seemly for the virtuous emperor, nor to the
philosopher his son, nor yet for the estate of his senate of Rome.

Which words being heard, Urbicius making no further examination of
the matter, said unto Lucius, Me thinketh thou art also a Christian.
And when Lucius had given him to understand that he was also a
Christian, the judge, without further delay, commanded him to be had
away to the place of execution. To whom he answered, I thank you,
with all my heart, that you release me from most wicked governors,
and send me unto my good and most loving Father, being also the King
of all gods. And in like manner the third man also, coming unto him,
and using the like liberty of speech, had also the like sentence of
death and condemnation, and was crowned also with the same crown of
martyrdom. And thus much out of the Apology of Justin; by the which
story it may appear not to be true that Gratianus attributeth unto
Higinus, bishop of Rome, the deciding of causes matrimonial, seeing
that in Justin's time (who was in the same age of Higinus) the
divorcement of this woman in this history above touched was not
decided by any ecclesiastical law, or brought before any bishop, but
was brought before a heathen prince, and determined by the law civil.

Henricus de Erfordia recordeth out of the Martyrology of Isuardus, of
one Concordus, a minister of the city of Spolet, who in the reign of
this Antoninus Verus, because he would not sacrifice unto Jupiter,
but did spit in the face of the idol, after divers and sundry
punishments sustained, at last with the sword was beheaded.
Vincentius, in his tenth book, chap. 108, reciteth a long story of
his acts and life, whereof some part perhaps may seem tolerable. But
this verily appeareth to be false and fabulous, concerning the water
flowing beside his sepulchre, in the forenamed city of Spolet; unto
the which water was given, (saith Vincentius,) by the virtue of Him
for whose name he suffered, to restore sight to the blind, to heal
the sick, and to cast out devils, &c. Which kind of virtue, to open
the eyes of the blind and to expel devils, neither doth God give to
any creature of water, neither is it like that Concordus, the blessed
martyr, did or would require any such thing at the hands of God.

Isuardus, and Bede, Vincentius, and Henricus de Erfordia, with other
authors more, make relation of divers other martyrs that, by sundry
kinds of torments, were put to death under the aforesaid Antoninus
Verus; the names of whom be Symmetrius, Florellus, Pontianus,
Alexander, Caius, Epipodus, Victor, Corona, Marcellus, Valerianus.
The cause of whose martyrdom was the reprehending of idolatry; and
because, at the emperor's commandment, they would not sacrifice to
idols. Many sorts of punishments and miracles are told of them: but
at length the end of them all is this, that they were beheaded.
Whereby it may be the more suspected the histories of these writers
not to be certain or true, as well touching these as also other
martyrs, as may appear in Vincentius, in Petrus de Natalibus, and
other authors of like sort. In which authors they which list to read
more of their miracles there may find them.

A little before mention was made of Symphorissa, otherwise named
Symphorosa, wife of Getulus, with her seven sons. This Getulus or
Getulius was a minister, or teacher, (as witnesseth Martyrol.
Adonis,) in the city of Tiber; which Getulus, with Cerealis,
Amantius, and Primitivus, by the commandment of Hadrian, were
condemned to the fire, wherein they were martyred and put to death.
The names moreover of the seven sons of this Symphorosa I find to be
Crescens, Julianus, Nemesius, Primitivus, Justinus, Statteus, and
Eugenius, whom the Chronicle of Ado declareth to be put to death at
the commandment of Hadrian, being fastened to seven stakes, and so
racked up with a pulley, and at last were thrust through; Crescens in
the neck, Julianus in the breast, Nemesius in the heart, Primitivus
about the navel, Justinus cut in every joint of his body, Statteus
run through with spears, Eugenius cut asunder from the breast to the
lower parts, and then cast into a deep pit, having the name by the
idolatrous priests, entitled Ad septem Biothanatos. After the
martyrdom of whom also Symphorosa the mother did likewise suffer, as
is before declared.

Under the said Antoninus Verus, and in the same persecution, which
raged not in Rome and Asia only, but in other countries also,
suffered the glorious and most constant martyrs of Lyons and Vienna,
two cities in France, giving to Christ a glorious testimony, and to
all Christian men a spectacle or example of singular constancy and
fortitude in Christ our Saviour. The history of whom, because it is
written and set forth by their own churches, where they did suffer,
mentioned in Euseb. lib. 6. cap. 2, I thought here to express the
same in the form and effect of their own words, as there is to be
seen. The title of which their epistle written to the brethren of
Asia and Phrygia thus beginneth.

"The servants of Christ inhabiting the cities of Vienna and Lyons, to
the brethren in Asia and Phrygia, having the same faith and hope of
redemption with us; peace, grace, and glory from
God the Father, and from Jesus Christ our Lord." The greatness of
this our tribulation, the furious rage of the Gentiles against us,
and the torments which the blessed martyrs suffered; neither can we
in words, not yet in writing exactly, as they deserve, set forth. For
the adversary, with all his force, gave his endeavour to the working
of such preparatives as he himself listed against his tyrannous
coming, and in every place practised he and instructed his ministers
how in most spiteful manner to set them against the servants of God;
so that not only in our houses, shops, and markets we were
restrained, but also were universally commanded, that none (so hardy)
should be seen in any place. But God hath always mercy in store, and
took out of their hands such as were weak amongst them, and other
some did he set up as firm and immovable pillars, which by sufferance
were able to abide all violent force, and valiantly to withstand the
enemy, enduring all their opprobrious punishment they could devise:
to conclude, they fought this battle for that intent to come unto
Christ, esteeming their great troubles but as light; thereby showing
that all that may be suffered in this present life is not able to
countervail the great glory which shall be showed upon us after this
life. And, first, they patiently suffered whatsoever the multitude of
frantic people running upon head did unto them, as railings,
scourgings, drawings, and halings, flinging of stones, imprisonings,
and what other thing soever the rage of the multitude is wont to use
and practise against their professed enemies. Then afterward they
being led into the market-place, and there judged of the captain and
rest of the potentates of the city, after their confession made
openly before the multitude, were commanded again to prison until the
return of their chief governor. After this, they being brought before
him, and he using all extremity that possibly he might against them,
one Vetius Epagathus, one of the brethren, replenished with fervent
zeal, both towards God and his brethren (whose conversation, although
he were a young man, was counted as perfect as was the life of
Zachary the priest; for he walked diligently in all the commandments
and justifications of the Lord, and in all obedience towards his
brethren, blameless); he having within him the fervent zeal of love
and Spirit of God, could not suffer that wicked judgment which was
given upon the Christians; but being vehemently displeased, desired
that the judge would hear the excuse which he was minded to make in
the behalf of the Christians, in whom (saith he) is no impiety found.
But the people cried again to those that were assistants with the
chief justice that it might not be so (for, indeed, he was a nobleman
born); neither did the justice grant him his lawful request, but only
asked him whether he himself was a Christian or not. And he
immediately, with a loud and bold voice, answered and said, I am a
Christian. And thus was he received into the fellowship of the
martyrs, and called the advocate of the Christians. And he having the
Spirit of God more plentifully in time than had Zachary, the
abundance thereof he declared, in that he gave his life in the
defence of his brethren, being a true disciple of Christ, following
the Lamb wheresoever he goeth.

By this man's example the rest of the martyrs were the more animated
to martyrdom, and made more joyous with all courage of mind to accom
lish the same. Some other there were unready and not so well
prepared, and as yet weak, not well able to bear the vehemency of so
great a conflict; of whom ten there were in number that fainted,
ministering to us much heaviness and lamentation, who by their
example caused the rest which were not yet apprehended to be less
willing thereunto. Then were we all for the variableness of
confession not a little astonished; not that we feared the punishment
intended against us, but rather as having respect to the end, and
fearing lest any should fall. Every day there were apprehended such
as were worthy to fulfil the number of them which were fallen;
insomuch that, of two churches, such as were chiefest, and which were
the principal governors of our churches, were apprehended. With these
also certain of theethnics, being our men-servants, were apprehended;
(for so the governor commanded, that all of us in general without any
respect should be taken;) which servants being overcome by Satan, and
fearing the torments which they saw the saints to suffer, being also
compelled thereunto by the means of the soldiers, feigned against us
that we kept the feastings of Thiestes, and incest of Œdipus, and
many such other crimes, which are neither to be remembered nor named
by us, nor yet to be thought that ever any man would commit the like.

These things being now bruited abroad, every man began to show
cruelty against us, insomuch that those which before for familiarity
sake were more gentle towards us, now vehemently disdained us, and
waxed mad against us. And thus was now fulfilled that which was
spoken by Christ, saying, The time will come, that whosoever killeth
you shall think that he doth God great good service. Then suffered
the martyrs of God such bitter persecution as is passing to be told;
Satan still shooting at this mark, to make them to utter some
blasphemy, by all means possible. Marvellous therefore was the rage
both of the people and prince, especially against one Sanctus, which
was deacon of the congregation of Vienna; and against Maturus, being
but a little before baptized, but yet a worthy follower of Christ;
and also against Attalus, being born in Pergama, which was the
foundation and pillar of that congregation; and also against
Blandina; by whom Christ showeth those things, which the world
esteemed vile and abject, to be glorious in God's sight, for the very
love which in heart and deed they bare unto him, not in outward face
only. For when all we were afraid, and especially her mistress in the
flesh, who also was herself one of the number of the aforesaid
martyrs, lest haply for the weakness of body she would not stand
strongly to her confession, the foresaid Blandina was so replenished
with strength and boldness, that they which had the tormenting of her
by course, from morning to night, for very weariness gave over, and
fell down, and were themselves overcome, confessing that they could
do no more against her, and marvelled that yet she lived, having her
body so torn and rent; and testified that any one of those torments
alone, without any more, had been enough to have plucked the life
from her body. But that blessed woman, fighting this worthy battle,
became stronger and stronger; and as often as she spake these words,
"I am a Christian, neither have we committed any evil," it was to her
a marvellous comfort and boldening to abide the torments.

Sanctus also, another of the martyrs, who in the midst of his
torments endured more pains than the nature of a man might away with,
at what time the wicked supposed to have heard him utter some
blasphemous words, for the greatness and intolerableness of his
torments and pains that he was in, abode notwithstanding in such
constancy of mind, that neither he told them his name, nor what coun
tryman he was, nor in what city brought up, neither whether he was a
free man or a servant; but unto every question that was asked him, he
answered in the Latin tongue, I am a Christian, and this was all that
he confessed, both of his name, city, kindred, and all other things
in the place of execution; neither yet could the Gentiles get any
more of him; whereupon both the governor and tormentors were the more
vehemently bent against him. And when they had nothing to vex him
withal, they clapped plates of brass red hot to the most tenderest
parts of his body; wherewith his body indeed being scorched, yet he
never shrunk for the matter, but was bold and constant in his
confession, being strength ened and moistened with the fountain of
lively water flowing out of Christ's side. Truly his body was a
sufficient witness what torments he suffered; for it was all drawn
together and most pitifully wounded and scorched, so that it had
therewith lost the proper shape of a man; in whose suffering Christ
obtained unspeakable glory, for that he overcame his adversaries,
and, to the instruction of others, declared that nothing else is
terrible, or ought to be feared, where the love of God is, and
nothing grievous wherein the glory of Christ is manifested.

And when those wicked men began after a certain time again to torment
the martyr, and hoped well to bring it to pass, that either they
should overcome him in causing him to recant, by reiterating his
torments, now when his body was so sore and swollen, that he might
not suffer a man to touch him with his hand; or else that if he died
under their hands, yet that thereby they should strike such fear into
the hearts of the rest, as to cause them to deny Christ; they were
not only disappointed herein, but also, contrary to the expecta lion
of men, his body was in the latter punishment and torments suppled
and restored, and took the first shape and use of the members of the
same, so that the same his second torment was by the grace of Christ
(instead of punishment) a safe medicine.

Also Satan, now thinking to have settled himself in the heart of one
Biblides, being one of them which had denied Christ, and thinking to
have caused her, being a weak and feeble woman in faith, to have
damned her soul, in blaspheming the name of God, brought her to the
place of execution, enforcing to wrest some wicked thing out of the
mouth of the Christians. But she in the middle of her torments,
returning to herself, and waked as it were out of her dead sleep by
that temporal pain, called to her remembrance the pains of hell-fire,
and against all men's expectations reviled the tormentors, saying,
How should we Christians eat young infants, (as ye reported of us,)
for whom it is not lawful to eat the blood of any beast. Upon that,
so soon as she had confessed herself to be a Christian, she was
martyred with the rest. Thus when Christ had ended those tyrannical
torments, by the patience and sufferance of our saints, the devil yet
invented other engines and instruments. For when the Christians were
cast into prison, they were shut up in dark and ugly dungeons, and
were drawn by the feet in a rack, or engine, made for that purpose.
And many other such punishments suffered they, which the furious
ministers, stirred up with devilish fury, are wont to put men unto;
so that very many of them were strangled and killed in prisons, whom
the Lord in this manner would have to enjoy everlasting life, and set
forth his glory. And surely these good men were so pitifully
tormented, that if they had had all the helps and medicines in the
world, it was thought impossible for them to live and to be restored.
And thus they remaining in prison, destitute of all human help, were
so strengthened of the Lord, and both in body and mind confirmed,
that they comforted and stirred up the minds of the rest; the younger
sort of them, which were later apprehended, and put in prison, whose
bodies had not yet felt the lash of the whip, were not able to endure
the sharpness of their imprisonment, but died for the same.

The blessed Photinus, who was deacon to the bishop of Lyons, about
fourscore and nine years old, and a very feeble or weak man, and
could scarcely draw breath for the imbecility of his body, yet was he
of a lively courage and spirit; and for the great desire he had of
martyrdom, when he was brought unto the judgment-seat, although his
body was feeble and weak, both because of his old age, and also
through sickness, yet was his soul or life preserved to this purpose,
that by the same Christ might triumph and be glorified. He being by
the soldiers brought to the place of judgment, many citizens and men
of great ability following him, and the whole multitude crying upon
him diversely, as though he had been Christ himself, gave a good
testimony. For being demanded of the chief ruler what was the
Christian man's God, he answered, If thou be worthy to know, thou
shalt know. He, being with these words somewhat near touched, caused
him to be very sore beaten. For those that stood next him did him all
the spite and displeasure that they could, both with hand and foot,
having no regard at all to his old age or white hairs. And they which
were farther off, whatso ever came next to hand they threw at him,
and every man thought that he did very wickedly refrain that withheld
his hand from doing the like. For by this means they thought that
they did revenge the quarrel of their gods. Photinus now, even as it
were gasping after life, was thrown into prison, and within two days
after died.

And here is the mighty providence of God and the unspeakable mercy of
Jesus Christ declared, which providence, being assured amongst
others, is never destitute of the aid of Jesus Christ. For those
which in their first persecution denied Christ, they also were put in
prison, and made partakers of the others' affliction. Neither yet did
it any whit at all at that time help them that had denied Christ, but
they which confessed him were imprisoned as Christians, neither was
there any other crime objected against them; but the other sort,
taken like homicides and wicked doers, were laid hand on, and had
double more punishment than the others had. These men were refreshed
with the joy of martyrdom, the hope of God's promises, the love
towards Christ, and the Spirit of God; the others, their consciences
accused them, and that very sore, insomuch that, by their gait, their
countenances bewrayed unto the rest their guilty con sciences. For
the Christians went forth having cheerful countenances, very much
adorned with glory and grace, in somuch that the very bonds wherewith
they were tied set them out as men in seemly apparel, and like as
brides when they be decked in gorgeous and gay garments, and
therewithal savoured as of the redolent smell of Christ, so that it
might be supposed them to be anointed with some sweet balm; whereas
the others were doubtful and sad, abject, ill favoured, filled with
all shame, and furthermore reviled of the Gentiles themselves, as
wretches degenerate, having the crime of homicide, and destitute of
the most precious, glorious, and lively calling of the Christian
name. And truly by these sights the rest were confirmed, and, being
apprehended, confessed Christ without any staggering, not having so
much as the thought of any such devilish mind of denial. And in the
same epistle of the foresaid brethren of France, writing to the
brethren of Asia, it followeth in this manner: After these things
done, the martyrdom of these holy saints was divided diversly into
divers kinds and forms, as the offering to God the Father a garland
decked with divers and sundry kinds of colours and flowers. For it so
behoved the worthy champions of God, after they had suffered divers
kinds of torments, and so won a triumphant victory, to obtain great
reward of immortality.

Then Maturus, Blandina, and Attalus were brought together to the
common scaffold, there in the face of the people to be cast and
devoured of the beasts. And Maturus, with Sanctus, being brought the
second time to the scaffold, suffered again all kind of torments, as
though hitherto they had suffered nothing at all; yea, rather the
adversary being oftentimes put to the worst, they, as striving for
the crown, suffered again more scourgings, the tearing of wild
beasts, and what thing else soever the frantic people on every side
cried for and willed. And above all the rest they brought an iron
chair, in the which their bodies being set, were so fried and
scorched as on a gridiron fried on the coals, and filled with the
savour of the frying all the people that stood by. And yet for all
that the torments ceased not, but waxed more fierce and mad against
them, labouring to overcome the patience of the saints.
Notwithstanding all this, they could not get out of Sanctus's mouth
any other thing but the confession which at the beginning he
declared. And thus these holy men, after they had long continued
alive in this their most horrible conflict, at the length were slain,
being made all that whole day a spectacle unto the world, in place
and instead of the games and sights which were wont to be exhibited
to the people. And thus much concerning Maturus and Sanctus.

Now concerning Blandina, she, being fastened upon a stake, was cast
to the ravening beasts to be devoured; which thing was not done
without the determinate will of God; to this end, that while she
seemed to hang as it were upon a cross, by the ferventness of her
prayer she might comfort the rest of the saints, as beholding their
Christ with their bodily eyes, which in that agony suffered for them
all, and that all which believe in him and suffer for the glory of
Christ might be assured to live with him for ever. And when they saw
that no beast would come near her thus hanging, they took her down
from the tree, and cast her again into prison till another time, that
she, having the victory of many battles, might triumph over that ugly
serpent the devil; and that she, being a weak and silly woman, and
not regarded, armed with Christ, the invincible Conqueror, might
encourage her brethren, and by the enduring of this battle might win
a crown of incorruptible glory.

Now to Attalus; who, being also required and called for of the people
to punishment already prepared, (for his conscience sake,) cometh
forth to the sight. For he being worthily exercised in the Christian
profession, was always a witness and a maintainer of our doctrine.
Therefore when the press of people was about the scaffold, and the
table carried before him, wherein was written in the Roman tongue,
This is Attalus the Christian; then the people were in a marvellous
rage against him. But the governor, understanding that he was a
Roman, commanded him again to prison, with the rest of his prison
fellows; whereof he wrote to the emperor, and waited for answer what
his pleasure herein was. The prisoners were not idle in the mean
season, nor unprofitable to their brethren, but by their patience the
unspeakable mercy of Christ shined out. For those which were dead
before were now revived by them that lived, and they which were
martyrs profited them which were none, and the church did much
rejoice, as receiving them again alive whom she had lost before as
dead. For many of them which before had denied, now by their denial
were restored and stirred up, and learned to be confessors. And now
being revived and strengthened, and tasting the sweetness of Him
which desireth not the death of a sinner, but is merciful to the
penitent, came of their own accord to the judgment-seat again, that
they might be examined of the judge. And for that the emperor had
written back again to him, that all the confessors should be punished
and the other let go, and that the sessions or assizes were now
begun, which, for the multitude that had repaired thither out of
every quarter, was marvellous great; he caused all the holy martyrs
to be brought thither, that the multitude might behold them, and once
again examined them; and as many of them as he thought had the Roman
freedom he beheaded, the residue he gave to the beasts to be
devoured. And truly Christ was much glorified by those which a little
before had denied him, which again, contrary to the expectation of
the infidels, confessed him even unto the death. For they were
examined apart from the rest, be cause of their delivery; which,
being found confessors, were joined to the company of the martyrs,
and had with them their part. But there were then some abroad which
had no faith at all, neither yet so much as the feeling of the
wedding garment, nor any cogitation at all of the fear of God; but
blasphemed his ways by the lewd conversation of their life, even such
as were the children of damnation. All the residue joined themselves
to the congregation; which when they were examined, one Alexander, a
Phrygian born, and a physician which had dwelt long in France, and
known almost of all, for the love he had to God, and boldness of
speaking (neither was he void of the apostolical love); one
Alexander, I say, standing somewhat near to the bar, by signs and
becks persuaded such as were examined to confess Christ; so that by
his countenance sometime rejoicing, some other while sorrowing, he
was descried of the standers-by. The people not taking in good part
to see those which now recanted by and by again to stick to their
first confession, they cried out against Alexander as one that was
the cause of all this matter. And when he was enforced by the judge,
and demanded what religion he was of, he answered, I am a Christian.
He had no sooner spoken the word, but he was judged to the beasts, of
them to be devoured.

The next day following, Attalus, of whom I made mention a little
before, and Alexander, were brought forth together, for the governor
granting Attalus unto the people, he was baited again of the beasts.
When these men were brought to the scaffold, and had taken a taste of
all the instruments that there were prepared for their execution, and
had suffered the greatest agony they could put them to, they were
also at the length slain; of whom Alexander never gave so much as a
sigh, nor held his peace, but from the bottom of his heart praised
and prayed to the Lord. But Attalus, when he was set in the iron
chair, and began to fry, and the frying savour of his burning body
began to smell, he spake to the multitude in the Roman language:
Behold, (saith he,) this which you do is to eat man's flesh; for we
neither eat men, nor yet commit any other wickedness. And being
demanded what was the name of their God; Our God (saith he) hath no
such name as men have. Then said they, Now let us see whether your
God can help you, and take you out of our hands or not.

After this, being the last day of the spectacle, Blandina again, and
one Ponticus, a child of fifteen years old, was brought forth, and
this was every day, to the intent that they seeing the punishment of
their fellows might be compelled thereby to swear by their idols. But
because they constantly abode in their purpose, and defied their
idols, the whole multitude was in a rage with them, neither sparing
the age of the child, nor favouring the sex of the woman, but put
them to all the punishment and pain they could devise, and oftentimes
enforced them to swear, and yet were not able to compel them
thereunto. For Ponticus, being so animated of his sister, as
theethnics standing by did see, after that he had suffered, all
torments and pains, gave up the ghost. This blessed Blandina
therefore being the last that suffered, after she had, like a worthy
mother, given exhortations unto her children, and had sent them
before as conquerors to their heavenly King, and had called to her
remembrance all their battles and conflicts, so much rejoiced of her
children's death, and so hastened her own, as though she had been
bidden to a bridal, and not in case to be thrown to the wild beasts.
After this her pitiful whipping, her delivery to the beasts, and her
torments upon the gridiron, at the length she was put in a net, and
thrown to the wild bull; and when she had been sufficiently gored and
wounded with the horns of the same beast, and felt nothing of all
that chanced to her, for the great hope and consolation she had in
Christ and heavenly things, was thus slain, inso much that the very
heathen men themselves confessed that there was never woman put to
death of them that suffered so much as this woman did. Neither yet
was their furious cruelty thus assuaged against the Christians. For 
the cruel, barbarous people, like wild beasts, when they be moved,
knew not when the time was to make an end, but invented new and
sundry torments every day against our bodies. Neither yet did it
content them when they had put the Christians to death, for that they
wanted the sense of men; for which cause both the magistrate and
people were vexed at the very hearts, that the scripture might be
fulfilled which saith, He that is wicked, let him be wicked still;
and he that is just, let him be more just. For those which in their
prisons they strangled, they threw after to the dogs, setting keepers
both day and night to watch them, that they should not be buried, and
bringing forth the remnant of their bones and bodies, some half
burned, some left of the wild beasts, and some all to be mangled,
also bringing forth heads of others which were cut off, and in like
manner committed by them to the charge of the keepers to see them
remain unburied.

The Gentiles grinded and gnashed at the Christians with their teeth,
seeking which way they might amplify their punishment: some other
flouted and mocked them, extolling their idols, attributing unto them
the cause of this cruelty and vengeance showed to us. Such as were of
the meeker sort, and seemed to be moved with some pity, did hit us in
the teeth, saying, Where is your God that you so much boast of? and
what helpeth this your religion for which you give your lives? These
were the sundry passions and effects of the Gentiles; but the
Christians in the mean while were in great heaviness, that they might
not bury the bodies and relics of the holy martyrs. Neither could the
dark night serve them to that purpose, nor any entreaty nor waging
them with money, which were appointed for watchmen; but they so
narrowly looked unto the matter, as though they should have gotten
great benefit and profit thereby.

Thus were the bodies of the martyrs made a wondering-stock, and lay
six days in the open streets; at the length they burned them, and
threw their ashes into the river, so that there might appear no
remnant of them upon the earth. And this did they, as though they had
been able to have pulled God out of his seat, and to have let the
regeneration of the saints, and taken from them the hope of the
resurrection, whereof they being persuaded (said they) bring in this
new and strange religion, and set thus light by death and punishment.

Among others that suffered under Antoninus, mention was made also of
Justinus, who (as it is said before) exhibited two Apologies,
concerning the defence of Christian doctrine; the one to the senate
of Rome, and the other to Antoninus Pius the emperor; concerning
whose suffering and the causes thereof is partly before declared.
This Justin was born in Neapoli, in the country of Palestine, whose
father was Priscus Bachius, as he himself doth testify, by whom in
his youth he was set to school to learn, where in process of time he
became a famous and worthy philosopher, of whose excellency many
learned and notable men do record. For, first, he being altogether
inflamed and ravished with desire of knowledge, would in no wise be
satisfied in his mind, before he had gotten instructors singularly
seen in all kind of philosophy; whereupon he writeth of himself in
the beginning of his dialogue with Tripho, thus, declaring that in
the beginning he, being desirous of that sect and society, applied
himself to be the scholar to a certain Stoic; and remaining with him
a time, when he nothing profited in Divine knowledge, (whereof the
Stoic had no skill, and affirmed the knowledge thereof not to be
necessary,) he forsook him, and went to another of the sect of the
Peripatetics, a sharp-witted man, as he thought; with whom after he
had been a while, he demanded of him a stipend for his teaching, for
the better confirmation of their familiarity. Whereupon Justin,
accounting him as no philosopher, left him, and departed. And yet not
satisfied in mind, but desirous to hear of further learning in
philosophy, adjoined himself to one that professed the Pythagorean
sect, a man of great fame, and one who made no small account of
himself; whom after he had followed a time, his master demanded of
him whether he had any sight in music, astronomy, and gcometry,
without the sight of which sci ence he said he could not be apt to
receive the knowledge of virtue and felicity, unless before he had
used to apply his mind from sensible matters to the contemplation of
things intelligible. And speaking much in the commendation of these
sci ences, how profitable and necessary they were, after that Justin
had declared himself not to be seen therein, the philosopher gave him
over, which grieved Justin not a little, and so much the more,
because he thought his master to have some knowledge in those
sciences. After this Justin considering with himself what time was
requisite to the learning of these sciences, and thinking not to
defer any longer, thought best to resort to the sect of the
Platonists, for the great fame that ran of them: wherefore he chose
unto him a singular learned man of that sect, which lately was come
to those parts, and so remaining with him seemed to profit not a
little in contemplation of supernal things, and invisible forms,
insomuch that he thought shortly to aspire to such sharpness of wit
and wis dom, that out of hand he might achieve to the co prehension
and contemplation of God, which is the end of Plato's philosophy. And
in this manner he bestowed his youth; but afterward, he growing to a
riper age, how and by what means the said Justin came to the
knowledge and profession of Christianity, it followeth likewise in
his said first Apology; where he affirmeth of himself, (as witnesseth
Eusebius in his fourth book,) that when he did behold the Christians
in their torments and sufferings to be so constant in their
profession, was therewith marvellously moved: after this manner
reasoning with himself, that it was impossible for that kind of
people to be subject to any vice or carnality, which vices of their
own nature are not able to sustain any sharp adversity, much less the
bitterness of death. The sight whereof helped him not a little (being
of his own nature inclined to the searching of true knowledge and
virtue) to begin thereby to love and embrace Christian religion, for
so he doth witness of himself in the end of the first Apology;
signifying there how it was his seeking and endeavour to attain to
Christianity; understanding how the Christians by malice of wicked
persons were compelled to suffer wrong and torments, and to be evil
spoken of. By sight whereof, as he saith himself, he became a
Christian, through this occasion. For being thus afflicted in his
mind, as is aforesaid, it came in his head for his more quietness to
go aside to some desert and solitary place void of concourse of
people, unto a village or grange near to the sea-side: whither as he
approached, thinking there to be all alone, there meeteth with him an
old ancient father of a comely visage and seemly behaviour, who
following him a little off, began to reason with him; where after
long disputation, when the old man had declared unto him that there
was no knowledge of truth amongst the philosophers, which neither
knew God, neither were aided by the Holy Ghost; and further had
reasoned with him of the immortality of the soul, of the reward of
the godly and punishment of the wicked: then Justin being confirmed
with his reasons and arguments, yielded to him of his own accord, and
demanded of him by what means he might attain to that true knowledge
of God whereof he had spoken; who then counselled him to read and
search the prophets, adjoining therewith prayer. But what, master,
(quoth Justin,) should I use for the instruction thereof, and who
shall be able to help us, if these philosophers (as you say) lack the
truth, and are void of the same? To whom the old father answering,
There have been (said he) many years before these philosophers other
more ancient than all these, which being accounted for philosophers
were just and beloved of God; who spake by the Spirit of God,
foreseeing and prophesying these things which we see now come to
pass, and therefore they are called prophets. These only have known
the truth, and revealed it to men, neither fearing nor passing for
any; who were seduced with no opinions of man's invention, but only
spake and taught those things which they themselves both heard and
saw, being inspired with the Holy Spirit of God; whose writings and
works yet to this day remain, out of which the reader may receive
great profit and knowledge of things, as concerning the first
creation of the world, and end of the same, with all other things
necessary to be known of every true philosopher which will give
credit unto them. Neither in their teaching do they use any
demonstration, as being more certain of themselves than that they
need any such demonstration to be made, forasmuch as the
accomplishing and the end of things, both past and now present,
constraineth us of necessity to believe the words and doctrine which
they taught; which men not only therefore are to be believed, but
also for their miracles and wonders done are worthy of credit; for
that they both preached of God the Maker and Creator of all things,
and also did prophesy before of Christ his Son to be sent of him; the
which, the false prophets being seduced with false and wicked
spirits, neither have done, nor do, but only take upon them to work
certain prodigious wonders for men to gaze at, setting out thereby to
the world false and unclean spirits. But then, afore all things, make
thy prayer that the gate of light may be opened unto thee; for
otherwise these things cannot be attained unto of every man, but only
of such to whom God and his Christ giveth understanding.

These things, with much more, (which now leisure serveth not to
prosecute,) after the foresaid old father had declared unto him, he
departed, exhorting him well to follow the things which he had
spoken; and after that Justin (as he himself witnesseth) saw
him no more. Immediately after this, Justin being all inflamed as
with fire kindled in his breast, began to conceive a love and zeal
towards the prophets, and all such as were favoured of Christ: and
thus he, revolving in his mind more and more these words, found only
this philosophy among all other professions both sure and profitable,
and so became he a philosopher, and in time by these means afterwards
he was made a Christian and baptized. But where he received this holy
sacrament of baptism it is not read of, nor yet by what occasion he
left his country and came to Rome. This only we read in Jerome, that
he was in Rome, and there used certain exercises which he called
diatribes; disputing there with Crescens, a cynical philosopher, as
is before touched. But this is certain, how that Justin, after he had
received the profession of Christian religion, became an earnest
defender of the same; travelling and disputing against all the
adversaries thereof, fearing neither peril of life nor danger of
death, whereby he might maintain the doctrine of Christ against the
malicious blasphemers, and also augment the number of Christian
believers, as may appear by his vehement disputations against the
heathen philosophers; also, moreover, it well appeareth in that long
disputation which he had with one Tripho at Ephesus, as also in his
Confutations of Heretics. Furthermore, his conflicts and Apologies
which with great courage and security he exhibited against the
persecutors of the Christians, both to the emperor and the
magistrates, yea, and the whole senate of Rome, do testify the same.

Of the which Apologies, the first he wrote to the senate of Rome, and
after to Antoninus Pius the emperor, as is before mentioned; where in
the first writing with great liberty to the senate, he declared that
of necessity he was compelled to write and utter his mind and
conscience to them. For that in persecuting of the Christians they
did neglect their duty, and highly offended God, and therefore need
they had to be admonished. And further writing to Urbicius,
lieutenant of the city, said that he put men to death and torments
for no offence committed, but for the confession only of the name of
Christ; which proceedings and judgments neither became the emperor,
nor his son, nor the senate: defending, moreover, in the said
Apology, and purging the Christians of such crimes as falsely were
laid and objected against them by the Ethnics.

And likewise in his second Apology, writing to Antoninus the emperor,
and his successors, with like gravity and free liberty declareth unto
them how they had the name, commonly being reputed and taken as
virtuous philosophers, maintainers of justice, lovers of learning;
but whether they were so their acts declared. As for him, neither for
flattery nor favour at their hands he was constrained thus to write
unto them, but only to sue unto them, and desire a serious and
righteous kind of dealing in their judgments and sentences; (for it
becometh princes to follow uprightness and piety in their judgments,
not tyranny and violence;) and also in plain words chargeth as well
the emperor as the senate with manifest wrong, for that they did not
grant the Christians that which is not denied to all other
malefactors, judging men to death not convicted, but only for the
hatred of the name. Other men which be appeached (said he) in
judgment are not condemned before they are convicted; but on us you
take our name only for the crime, whenas indeed you ought to see
justice done upon our accusers. And again, (saith he,) ifa Christian,
being accused, only deny that name, him you release, being not able
to charge him with any other offence; but if he stand to his name,
only for his confession you cast him, where indeed it were your duty
rather to examine their manner of life, what thing they confess or
deny, and according to their demerits to see justice done.

And in the same, further, he saith, You examine not the causes, but,
incensed with rash affections, as with the spur of fury, ye slay and
murder them not convicted, without any respect of justice. And
further, he addeth, Some, peradventure, will say certain of them have
been apprehended and taken in evil doings, as though (saith he) you
used to inquire upon them being brought afore you, and not commonly
to condemn them before due examination of their offence for the cause
above mentioned. Where also, in the end of the said Apology, after
this manner he reprehendeth them: You do degenerate (quoth he) from
the goodness of your predecessors, whose example you follow not; for
your father Hadrian, of famous memory, caused to be proclaimed, that
Christians accused before the judge should not be condemned, unless
they were found guilty of some notorious crime. I find that all his
vehement and grave Apology standeth upon most strong and firm
probations, denying that the Christians ought by conscience, at the
will and commandment of the emperor and senate, to do sacrifice to
the idols; for the which they being condemned, affirm that they
suffer open wrong; affirming, moreover, that the true and only
religion is the religion of the Christians, whose doctrine and
conversation hath no fault. Justinus, although with these and such-
like persuasions he did not so prevail with the emperor to cause him
to love his religion and become a Christian, (for that is not
written,) yet thus much he obtained, that Antoninus, writing to his
officers in Asia in the behalf
of the Christians, required and commanded them, that those Christians
only which were found guilty of any trespass should suffer, and such
as were not convicted should not therefore only for the name be
punished, because they were called Christians. By these it is
apparent with what zeal and faith this Justinus did strive against
the persecutors, which (as he said) could kill only, but could not
hurt.

This Justinus, by the means and malice of Crescens the philosopher,
(as is before declared,) suffered martyrdom under Marcus Antoninus
Verus, a little after that Polycarp was martyred in Asia, as
witnesseth Eusebius. Here is to be gathered how Epiphanius was
deceived in the time of his death, saying that he suffered under
Rusticus the president, and Hadrian the emperor, being of thirty
years of age; which, indeed, agreeth neither with Eusebius, nor
Hierom, nor Suide, nor others more; which manifestly declare and
testify how he exhibited his Apology unto Antoninus Pius,which came
after Hadrian. Thus hast thou (good reader) the life of this learned
and blessed martyr, although partly touched before, yet now more
fully and amply discoursed for the better commendation of his
excellent and notable virtues; of whose final end thus writeth
Photius, saying that he, suffering for Christ, died cheerfully and
with honour.

Thus have ye heard the whole discourse of Justinus and of the blessed
saints of France, Vetius, Zacharias, Sanctus, Maturus, Attalus,
Blandina, Alexander, Alcibiades, with others, recorded and set forth
by the writing of certain Christian brethren of the same church and
place of France. In the which foresaid writings of theirs, moreover,
appeareth the great meekness and modest constancy of the said martyrs
described in these words: Such followers were they of Christ, (who
when he was in the form of God, thought it no robbery to be equal
with God, being in the same glory with him,) that they not once nor
twice, but ofttimes suffered martyrdom; and taken again from the
beasts, and bearing wounds, tearings, and scars in their bodies, yet
neither would count themselves martyrs, neither would they suffer us
so to call them: but if any of us either by word or letter would call
them martyrs, they did vehemently rebuke them, saying that the name
of martyrdom was to be given to Christ the faithful and true Martyr,
the First-born of the dead, and the Captain of life; testifying,
moreover, that martyrdom belongeth to such, who, by their martyrdom,
were already passed out of this life, and whom Christ, by their
worthy confession, hath received unto himself, and hath sealed up
their martyrdom by their end finished: as for them which were not yet
consummated, they (said they) were not worthy
the names of martyrs, but only were humble and worthy confessors,
desiring also their brethren with tears to pray without ceasing for
their confirmation. Thus they performing indeed that which belongeth
to true martyrs, in resisting the heathen with much liberty and great
patience, without all fear of man, being replenished with the fear of
God, refused to be named of their brethren for martyrs. And after in
the said writing it followeth more: They humbled themselves under the
mighty hand of God, by which they were greatly exalted; then they
rendered to all men a reason of their faith; they accused no man,
they loosed all, they bound none; and for them which so evil did
entreat them they prayed, following the example of Stephen the
perfect martyr, which said, O Lord, impute not their sin to them. And
after again, neither did they proudly disdain against them which
fell; but of such as they had they imparted to them that lacked,
bearing toward them a motherly affection, shedding their plentiful
tears for them to God the Father, and prayed for their life and
salvation; and as God gave it them, they also did communicate to
their neighbours; and thus they as conquerors of all things departed
to God, They loved peace, and leaving the same to us, they went to
God, neither leaving any molestation to their mother, nor sedition or
trouble to their brethren, but joy, peace, concord, and love to all.

Out of the same writing, moreover, concerning these martyrs of France
aforementioned, is recorded also another history not unworthy to be
noted, taken out of the same book of Eusebius, which history is this.

There was among these constant and blessed martyrs one Alcibiades, as
is above specified; which Alcibiades ever used a very strict diet,
receiving for his food and sustenance nothing else but only bread and
water. When this Alcibiades, now being cast into prison, went about
to accustom the same strictness of diet, after his usual manner, it
was before revealed by God to Attalus aforementioned, one of the said
company, being also the same time imprisoned after his first conflict
upon the scaffold, that Alcibiades did not well in that he refused to
use and take the creatures of God, and also thereby ministered to
other a pernicious occasion of offensive example. Whereupon
Alcibiades being advertised, and reformed, began to take all things
boldly and with giving thanks. Whereby may appear to all scrupulous
consciences, not only a wholesome instruction of the Holy Ghost, but
also here is to be noted how in those days they were not destitute of
the grace of God, but had the Holy Spirit of God to be their
Instructor.

The foresaid martyrs of France at the same time
commended Irenæus, newly then made minister, with their letters unto
Eleutherius, bishop of Rome, as witnesseth Eusebius, in the tenth
chapter of the said book, which Irenæus first was the hearer of
Polycarp, then made minister (as is said) under these martyrs; and
after their death made bishop afterward of Lyons in France, and
succeeded after Photinus. Besides this Justin, there was also the
same time in Asia Claudius Apollinaris, or Apollinarius, bishop of
Hieropolis; and also Melito, bishop of Sanlis, an eloquent and
learned man, much commended of Tertullian, who succeeding after the
time of the apostles, in the reign of this Antoninus Verus, exhibited
unto him learned and eloquent Apologies in defence of Christ's
religion, like as Quadratus and Aristides above mentioned did unto
the emperor Hadrian; whereby they moved him somewhat to stay the rage
of his persecution. In like manner did this Apollinaris and Melito
(stirred up by God) adventure to defend in writing the cause of the
Christians unto this Antoninus. Of this Melito Eusebius in his fourth
book making mention, excerpeth certain places of his Apology in these
words, as followeth: Now, saith he, which was never seen before, the
godly suffer persecution by occasion of certain proclamations and
edicts proclaimed throughout Asia; for villanous sycophants, robbers,
and spoilers of other men's goods, grounding themselves upon those
proclamations, and taking occasion of them, rob openly night and day,
and spoil those which do no harm. And it followeth after, which if it
be done by your commandment, be it so, well done; for a good prince
will never command but good things, and so we will be contented to
sustain the honour of this death. This only we most humbly beseech
your Majesty, that calling before you and examining the authors of
this tumult and contention, then your Grace would justly judge
whether we are worthy of cruel death or quiet life. And then, if it
be not your pleasure, and that it proceedeth not by your occasion,
(which indeed against your barbarous enemies were too bad,) the more
a great deal we are petitioners to your Highness, that here after you
will vouchsafe to hear us thus so vexed and oppressed with these kind
of villianous robberies. And verily our philosophy and doctrine did
first among the barbarous take place, which doctrine first in the
days of Augustus, your predecessor, when it did reign and flourish,
thereby your empire became most famous and fortunate; and from that
time more and more the state of the Roman empire increased in honour,
whereof you most happily were made successor, and so shall your son
too. Honour therefore this philosophy which with your empire sprang
up, and came in with Augustus, which your progenitors above all other
honoured and most esteemed. And verily this is no small argument of a
good beginning, that since our doctrine flourished in the empire no
misfortune or loss happened from Augustus's time; but, contrary,
always victory, good and honourable years as ever any man would wish:
only among all, and of all, Nero and Domitian, being kindled by
divers naughty and spiteful persons, cavillingly objected against our
doctrine; of whom this sycophantical slandering of us by naughty
custom first came and sprang up. But your godly fathers, espying the
ignorance of these, oftentimes by their writing corrected their
temerarious attempts in that behalf; among whom your grandfather
Hadrian, with many others, is read of to have written to Fundane, the
proconsul and lieutenant of Asia; and your father, your own father, I
say, with whom you ruled in all things, wrote to the cities under his
signet, as the Laersens, Thessalonicenses, Athenienses, and Grecians,
rashly to innovate or alter nothing. Of your Highness, therefore, who
in this case is of that sect as your predecessors were, yea, and of a
more benign and philosophical mind, we are in good hope to obtain our
petition and request.

Thus much out of the Apology of Melito, who, writing to Onesimus,
giveth to us this benefit, to know the true catalogue and the names
of all the authentic books of the Old Testament received in the
ancient time of the primitive church. Concerning the number and names
whereof, the said Melito in his letter to Onesimus declareth, how
that he returning into the parts where these things were done and
preached, there he diligently inquired out the books approved of the
Old Testament, the names whereof in order he subscribeth, and sendeth
unto him as followeth: The five books of Moses, Genesis, Exodus,
Leviticus, Numeri, Deuteronomi, Jesus Nave, The Judges, Ruth, Four
books of Kings, Two books Paralipomenon, The Psalms, Proverbs of
Salomon, The book of Wisdom, The Preacher, The Song of Songs, Job,
The Prophets, Esay, Hieremy, Twelve Prophets in one book, Daniel,
Ezechiel, Esdras. And thus much of this matter which I thought here
to record, for that it is not unprofitable for these later times to
understand what in the first times was received and admitted as
authentic, and what otherwise.

But from this little digression to return to our matter omitted, that
is, to the Apologies of Apollinarius and Melito, in the story so it
followeth, that whether it was by the occasion of these two
Apologies, or whether it was through the writing of Athenagoras a
philosopher, and a legate of the Christians, it is uncertain; but
this is certain, that the persecution the same time was stayed. Some
do think, which most probably seems to touch the truth, that the
cause of staying this persecution did rise upon a wonderful miracle
of God, showed in the emperor's camp by the Christians, the story
whereof is this: At what time the two brethren, Marcus Antoninus and
Marcus Aurelius Commodus, emperors, joining together, warred against
the Quades, Vandals, Sarmates, and Germans, in the expedition against
them, their army, by reason of the imminent assault of their enemies,
was cooped and shut in within the straits and hot dry places, where
their soldiers, besides other difficulties of battle, being destitute
of water five days, were like to have perished, which dread not a
little discomfited them, and abated their courage; where, in this so
great distress and jeopardy, suddenly withdrew from the army a legion
of the Christian soldiers for their succour, who, falling prostrate
upon the earth, by ardent prayer, by and by, obtained of God double
relief: by means of whom God gave certain pleasant showers from the
element; whereby as their soldiers quenched their thirst, so were a
great number of their enemies discomfited and put to flight by
continual lightnings which shooted out of the air. This miracle so
pleased and won the emperor, that ever after he waxed gentler and
gentler to the Christians, and directed his letters to divers of his
rulers, (as Tertullian in his Apology witnesseth,) commanding them
therein to give thanks to the Christians, no less for his victory,
than for the preservation of him and all his men. The copy of which
letter ensueth:

"I give you hereby to understand what I intend to do, as also what
success I have had in my wars in Germany, and with how much
difficulty I have victualled my camp; being compassed about with
seventy and four fierce dragons, whom my scouts descried to be within
nine miles of us, and Pompeianus, our lieutenant, hath viewed, as he
signified unto us by his letters. Wherefore I thought no less but to
be overrun, and all my bands, of so great multitude, as well my
vaward, mainward, as rereward, with all my soldiers of Ephrata; in
whose host there were numbered of fighting men nine hundred seventy
and five thousand. But when I saw myself not able to encounter with
the enemy, I craved aid of our country gods; at whose hands I finding
no comfort, and being driven of the enemy into an exigent, I caused
to be sent for those men which we call Christians, who being mustered
were found a good indifferent number, with whom I was in further rage
than I had good cause, as afterwards I had experience by their
marvellous power; who forthwith did their endeavour, but without
either weapon, munition, armour, or trumpets, as men abhorring such
preparation and furniture, but only satisfied in trust of their God,
whom they carry about with them in their consciences. It is therefore
to be credited, although we call them wicked men, that they worship
God in their hearts. For they, falling prostrate upon the ground,
prayed not only for me, but for the host also which was with me,
beseeching their God for help in that our extremity of victuals and
fresh water; for we had been now five days without water, and were in
our enemy's land, even in the midst of Germany; who thus falling upon
their faces, made their prayer to a God unknown of me. And there fell 
amongst us from heaven a most pleasant and cold shower, but amongst
our enemies a great storm of hail mixed with lightning, so that
immediately we perceived the invincible aid of the most mighty God to
be with us; therefore we give those men leave to profess
Christianity, lest, perhaps, by their prayer we be punished with the
like, and thereby I make myself the author of such hurt as shall be
received by the Christian profession. And if any shall apprehend one
that is a Christian only for that cause, I will that he being
apprehended, without punishment may have leave to confess the same,
so that there be none other cause objected against him more than that
he is a Christian; but let his accuser be burned alive. Neither will
I that he, confessing and being found a Christian, shall be enforced
to alter the same his opinion by the governor of any of our
provinces, but left to his own choice. And this decree of mine I will
to be ratified in the senate house, and command the same publicly to
be proclaimed and read in the court of Trajan; and that, further,
from thence it may be sent into all our provinces by the diligence of
Veratius, governor of our city Polione. And further, we give leave to
all men to use and write, out this our decree, taking the same out of
our copy publicly in the common hall set forth."

Thus the tempestuous rage of persecution against the Christians began
for a time to assuage, partly by the occasion hereof, partly also
upon other causes incident, compelling the enemies to surcease their
persecution, as great plagues and pestilence lying upon the country
of Italy; likewise great wars, as well in the east parts, as also in
Italy and France, terrible earthquakes, great floods, noisome swarms
of flies and vermin devouring their corn fields, &c. And thus much of
things done under Antoninus Verus, which Antoninus, in the beginning
of his reign, joined with him in the government of the empire his
brother Marcus Aurelius Commodus, who also was with him at the
miraculous victory gotten by the Christians, as Eusebius recordeth.
Contrary, Platina, in his Life of Soter, refer the same to the time
of Antoninus Verus, and his son Lucius Antoninus Commodus, and not of
Marcus Aurelius Commodus, his brother. But howsoever the truth of
years doth stand, certain it is, that after the death of Antoninus
Verus, and of Aurelius Commodus, succeeded Lucius Antoninus Commodus,
the son of Verus, who reigned thirty years.

In the time of this Commodus, although he was an incommodious prince
to the senators of Rome, yet notwithstanding there was some quietness
universally through the whole church of Christ from persecution, by
what occasion it is not certain. Some think, of whom is Xiphilinus,
that it came through Marcia, the emperor's concubine, which favoured
the Christians; but howsoever it came, (saith Eusebius,) the fury of
the raging enemies was then somewhat mitigated, and peace was given
by the grace of Christ unto the church throughout the whole world; at
what time the wholesome doctrine of the gospel allured and reduced
the hearts of all sorts of people unto the true religion of God,
insomuch that many, both rich and noble personages of Rome, with
their whole families and households, to their salvation, adjoined
themselves to the church of Christ.

Among whom there was one Apollonius, a nobleman, and a senator of
Rome, who being maliciously accused unto the senate by one whom
Hierom writeth to be the servant of the said Apollonius, and nameth
him Severus; but whose servant soever he was, the wretched man came
soon enough before the judge, being condignly rewarded for that his
malicious diligence; for by a law which the emperor made, that no man
upon pain of death should falsely accuse the Christians, he was put
to execution, and had his legs broken forthwith by the sentence of
Perenninus the judge, which being a heathen man, he pronounced
against him: but the beloved martyr of God, when the judge with much
ado had obtained of him to render an account, before the honourable
senate, of His faith, under whose defence and warrant of life he did
the same, delivered unto them an eloquent apology of the Christian
belief: but the former warrant notwithstanding, he by the decree of
the senate was beheaded, and so ended His life; for that there was an
ancient law among them decreed, that none that professed Christ, and
therefore arraigned, should be released without recantation, or
altering his opinion.

This Commodus is said in stories to be so sure and steady-handed in
casting the dart, that in the open theatre before the people he would
encounter with the wild beasts, and be sure to hit them in place
where he appointed. Among divers other his vicious and wild parts, he
was so far surprised in pride and arrogancy, that he would be called
Hercules, and many times would show himself to the people in the skin
of a lion, to be counted thereby the king of men, like as the lion is
of the beasts.

Upon a certain time, being his birth-day, this Commodus calling the
people of Rome together, in a great royalty, having his lion's skin
upon him, made sacrifice to Hercules and Jupiter, causing it to be
cried through the city, that Hercules was the patron and defender of
the city. There was the same time at Rome Vincentius, Eusebius,
Peregrinus, Potentianus, learned men, and instructors of the people,
who, following the steps of the apostles, went about from place to
place where the gospel was not yet preached, converting the Gentiles
to the faith of Christ. These, hearing the madness of the emperor,
and of the people, began to reprove their idolatrous blindness;
teaching in villages and towns all that heard them to believe upon
the true and only God, and to come away from such worshipping of
devils, and to give honour to God alone, which only is to be
worshipped, willing them to repent and to be baptized, lest they
perished with Commodus. With this their preaching they converted one
Julius, a senator, and others, to the religion of Christ. The emperor
hearing thereof, caused them to be apprehended of Vitellus his
captain, and to be compelled to sacrifice unto Hercules; which when
they stoutly refused, after divers grievous torments and great
miracles by them done, at last they were pressed with leaden weights
to death.

This Peregrinus above mentioned had been sent before by Xistus,
bishop of Rome, into the parts of France, to supply there the room of
a bishop and teacher, by reason that for the continual and horrible
persecutions thereabout touched, those places were left desolate and
destitute of ministers and instructors; whereafter he had occupied
himself with much fruit among the flock of Christ, and had stablished
the congregation there, returning home again to Rome, there he
finished at last (as it is said) his martyrdom.

Now remaineth likewise to speak of Julius; which Julius being (as is
afore described,) a senator of Rome, and now won by the preaching of
these blessed men to the faith of Christ, did speedily invite them
and brought them home to his house, where being fully instructed in
Christian religion, he believed the gospel. And sending for one
Ruffinus, a priest, was with all his family by him baptized, who not
(as the common sort was wont to do) kept close and secret his faith,
but, incensed with a marvellous and sincere zeal, openly professed
the same, altogether wishing and praying to be given to him by God, 
not only to believe in Christ, but also to hazard his life for him.
Which thing the emperor hearing how that Julius had forsaken his old
religion, and become a Christian, forthwith sent for him to come
before him, unto whom he spake on this wise: O July, what madness
hath possessed thee, that thus thou dost fall from the old and common
religion of thy forefathers, who acknowledged and worshipped Jupiter
and Hercules their gods, and now dost embnce a new and fond kind of
religion of the Christians? At which time Julius, having good
occasion to show and open his faith, gave straightway account thereof
to him, and affirmed that Hercules and Jupiter were false gods, and
how the worshippers of them should perish with eternal damnation and
punishments. Which the emperor hearing how that he condemned and
despised his gods, being then inflamed with a great wrath, (as he was
by nature very choleric,) committed him forthwith to Vitellus, the
master of the soldiers, a very cruel and fierce man, to see Julius
either to sacrifice to mighty Hercules, or, refusing the same, to
slay him. Vitellus (as he was commanded) exhorted Julius to obey the
emperor's commandment, and to worship his gods; alleging how that the
whole empire of Rome was not only constituted, but also preserved and
maintained, by them: which Julius denied utterly to do, admonishing
sharply in like manner Vitellus to acknowledge the true God, and obey
his commandments, lest he with his master should die some grievous
death: whereat Vitellus being moved, caused Julius with cudgels to be
beaten unto death.

These things being thus briefly recited, touching such holy martyrs
as hitherto have suffered, now remaineth that we return again to the
order of the Roman bishops, such as followed next after Alexander, at
whom we left, whose succeeder next was Xistus or Sixtus, the sixth
bishop counted after Peter, who governed that ministry the space of
ten years, as Damasus and others do write. Uspergensis maketh mention
but of nine years. Platina recordeth that he died a martyr, and was
buried at the Vatican. But Eusebius speaking of his decease, maketh
no word or mention of any martyrdom. In the second tome of the
Councils certain epistles be attributed to him, whereof Eusebius,
Damasus, Hierom, and other old authors, as they make no relation, so
seem they to have no intelligence nor knowledge of any such matter.
In these counterfeit epistles, and in Platina, it appeareth that
Xistus was the first author of these ordinances. First, that the holy
mysteries and holy vessels should be touched but only of persons holy
and consecrated, especially of no woman. Item, that the corporal
cloth should be made of no other cloth but of fine linen. Item, that
such bishops as were called up to the apostolic see, returning home
again, should not be received at their return, unless they brought
with them letters from the bishop of Rome saluting the people. Item,
at the celebration he ordained to be sung this verse, "Holy, holy,
holy Lord God of hosts," Where, moreover, it is to be noted, that the
said Platina, in the Life of this Xistus, doth testify that Peter
ministered the celebration of the communion only with the Lord's
prayer. These trifling ordinances of Xistus, who is so rude that
seeth not, or may not easily conjecture to be falsely fathered on
Xistus, or on any father of that time? first by the uniform rudeness
and style of all those decretal letters, nothing savouring of that
age, but rather of the later foolish times that followed; also by the
matter and argument in those letters contained, nothing agreeing with
the state of those troublesome days. Neither again is it to be
supposed that any such recourse of bishops was then to the apostolic
see of Rome, that it was not lawful to return without their letters;
whenas the persecution against the Christians was then so hot, in the
days of Hadrian, that the bishops of Rome themselves were more glad
to fly out of the city, than other bishops were to come to them unto
Rome. And if Xistus added the Sanctus unto the mass canon, what piece
then of the canon went before it, when they which put to the other
patches came after Xistus? And if they came after Xistus that added
the rest, why did they set their pieces before his, seeing they that
began the first piece of the canon came after him?

The same likewise is to be judged of the epistles and ordinances of
Telesphorus, who succeeded next unto Xistus, and being bishop of that
congregation the term of eleven years, the first year of the reign of
Antoninus Pius, died martyr about the year of our Lord one hundred
thirty and eight. His epistle, like unto the rest, containing in it
no great matter of doctrine, hath these ordinances. First he
commandeth all that were of the clergy to fast and abstain from
flesh-eating seven weeks before Easter. That three masses should be
said upon the nativity day of the Lord. That no laymen should accuse
either bishop or priest. He ordained, moreover, Gloria in excelsis,
to be added to the mass, &c. But that these things falsely are
feigned upon him may easily be conjectured. For as touching the seven
weeks' fast, neither doth it agree with the old Roman term commonly
received, calling it Quadragesima, that is, the forty days' fast;
neither with the example of our Saviour, who fasted not seven weeks,
but only forty days. Moreover, as concerning this forty days' fast,
we read of the same in the epistle of Ignatius, which was long before
Telesphorus; whereby it may appear that this Telesphorus was not the
first inventor thereof. And if it be true that is lately come out in
the name of Abdias, (but untruly, as by many conjectures may be
proved,) there it is read, that in the days of St. Matthew this Lent
fast of forty days was observed long before Telesphorus, by these
words that follow: In the days (said he) either of Lent, or in the
time of other lawful fastings, he that abstaineth not as well from
eating meat as also from the mixture of bodies doth incur in so
doing, not only pollution, but also committeth offence, which must be
washed away with the tears of repentance. Again, Apollonius
affirmeth, that Montanus the heretic was the first deviser and
bringer in of these laws of fasting into the church, which before was
used to be free, But especially by Socrates, writer of the
ecclesiastical story, who lived after the days of Theodosius, it may
be argued, that this seven weeks' fast is falsely imputed to
Telesphorus. For Socrates in his first book, speaking of this time,
hath these words: The Romans (saith he) do fast three weeks
continually before Easter, beside the sabbath and the Sunday. And,
moreover, speaking of the divers and sundry fastings of Lent in
sundry and divers churches, he addeth these words: And because that
no man can bring forth any commandment written of this matter, it is
therefore apparent that the apostles left this kind of fast free to
every man's will and judgment, lest any should be constrained by fear
and necessity to do that which is good, &c. With this of Socrates
agree also the words of Sozomenus, living much about the same time,
in his seventh book, where he thus writeth: The whole fast of Lent
(saith he) some comprehend in five weeks, as do the Illyrians, and
the west churches, with all Libya, Egypt, and Palestina; some in
seven weeks, as at Constantinople, and the parts bordering to
Phœnicia; other some in three weeks, next before the day of Easter;
and some again in two weeks, &c. By the which it may be collected,
that Telesphorus never ordained any such fast of seven weeks; which
otherwise neither would have been neglected in Rome, and in the west
churches; neither again would have been unremembered of these ancient
ecclesiastical writers, if any such thing had been. The like is to be
thought also of the rest, not only of his constitutions, but also of
the other ancient bishops and martyrs which followed after him, as of
Higinus in the year of our Lord one hundred forty and two, who
succeeding him, and dying also a martyr, is said, or rather feigned,
to bring in the cream, one godfather and godmother in baptism, to
ordain the dedication of churches, whenas in his time so far it was
off that any solemn churches were standing in Rome, that unneth the
Christians could safely convent in their own houses. Likewise the
distinguishing the orders of metropolitans, bishops, and other
degrees, savour nothing less than of that time.

After Higinus followed Pius, who, as Platina reporteth, was so
precisely devout about the holy mysteries of the Lord's table, that
if any one crumb thereof did fall down to the ground, he ordained
that the priest should do penance forty days; if any fell upon the
super-altar, he should do penance three days; if upon the linen
corporal cloth, four days; if upon any other linen cloth, nine days.
And if any drop of the blood (saith he) should chance to be spilled,
wheresoever it fell, it should be licked up, if it were possible; if
not, the place should be washed or pared, and so being washed or
pared, should be burned and laid in the vestry. All which toys may
seem to a wise man more vain and trifling, than to savour of those
pure and strict times of those holy martyrs. This Pius (as is
reported) was much conversant with Hermes, called otherwise Pastor.
Darnasus saith he was his brother. But how is that like, that Hermes
being the disciple of Paul, or one of the threescore disciples, could
be the brother of this Pius? Of this Hermes, and of the Revelations,
the foresaid Pius in his epistle decretal (if it be not forged)
maketh mention; declaring that unto him appeared the angel of God in
the habit of a shepherd, commanding him that Easter-day should be
celebrated of all men upon no other day but on a Sunday; whereupon,
saith the epistle, Pius the bishop, by his authority apostolical,
decreed and commanded the same to be observed of all men.

Then succeeded Anicetus, Soter, and Eleutherius, about the year of
our Lord one hundred and fourscore. This Eleutherius, at the request
of Lucius, king of Britain, sent to him Damianus and Fugatius, by
whom the king was converted to Christ's faith, and baptized, about
the year of our Lord one hundred threescore and nineteen. Nauclerus
saith it was in the year one hundred fifty and five. Henr. de
Erfordia saith it was in the year one hundred threescore and nine, in
the nineteenth year of Verus the emperor. Some say it was in the
sixth year of Commodus, which should be about the year of our Lord
one hundred fourscore and five. Timotheus in his story thinketh that
Eleutherius came himself; but that is not like. And as there is a
variance among the writers for the count of years, so doth there rise
a question among some, whether Eleutherius was the first that brought
the faith from Rome into this land or not. Nicephorus saith that
Simon Zelotes came into Britain. Some other allege out of Gildas,
that Joseph of Arimathea, after the dispersion of the Jews, was sent
by Philip the apostle from France to Britain, about the year of our
Lord threescore and three, and here remained in this land all his
time, and so with his fellows laid the first foundation of Christian
faith among the British people. Whereupon other preachers and
teachers coming afterward confirmed the same, and increased it more.
And therefore doth Petrus Cluniacensis call the Scottish men, and so
doth count them as more ancient Christians. For the confirmation
hereof might be alleged the testimony of Origen, of Tertullian, and
the words also of the letter of Eleutherius, which import no less but
that the faith of Christ was here in England among the British people
before Eleutherius's time, and before the king was converted; but
hereof more shall be spoken hereafter, (Christ willing,) when, after
the tractation of these ten persecutions, we shall enter into the
matter of our English stories.

About this time of Commodus afore mentioned, among divers other
learned men and famous teachers whom God stirred up at that time (as
he doth at all other times raise up some) in his church, to confound
the persecutors by learning and writing, as the martyrs to confirm
the truth with their blood, was Serapion, bishop of Antioch,
Egesippus, a writer of the ecclesiastical history from Christ's
passion to his time; and those that be remaining (which be five) be
not mentioned, neither Hierom, Eusebius, nor Miltiades, which also
wrote his Apology in defence of Christian religion, as did Melito,
Quadratus, and Aristides before mentioned. About the same time also
wrote Heraclitus, who first began to write annotations and
enarrations upon the New Testament, and Epistles of the apostles.
Also Theophilus, bishop of Cesarea, Dionysius, bishop of Corinth, a
man famously learned, which wrote divers epistles to divers churches,
and among others writeth, exhorting Penitus, a certain bishop, that
he would lay no yoke of chastity of any necessity upon his brethren;
but that he would consider the infirmity of others, and bear with it.
Moreover, the said Dionysius, in his epistles, writing of Dionysius
Areopagita, declareth of him how that he was first converted to the
Christian faith by St. Paul, according as in the Acts is recorded,
and afterward was made the first bishop of Athens, but maketh there
no mention of his book concerning the hierarchy. Whereby it may
easily appear what is to be judged of that book. Furthermore, by the
epistles of the said Dionysius of Corinth, this we have to understand
to be the use at that time in churches, to read the letters and
epistles, such as were sent by learned bishops and teachers unto the
congregations, as may appear by these words qf Dionysius, who,
writing to the church of the Romans and to Soter, saith, This day we
celebrate the holy dominical day, in which we have read your epistle,
which always we will read for our exhortation, like as we do read
also the epistle of Clement sent to us before, &c. Where also mention
is made of keeping of Sunday holy, whereof we find no mention made in
ancient authors before his time, except only in Justin Martyr, who,
in his description, declareth two times most especially used for
Christian men to congregate together: first, when any convert was to
be baptized; the second was upon the Sunday, which was wont for two
causes then to be hallowed: first, because (saith he) upon that day
God made the world; secondly, because that Christ upon that day first
showed himself after his resurrection to his disciples, &c.

Over and beside these above named, about the days of Commodus wrote
also Clemens Alexandrinus, a man of notable and singular learning,
whose books, although for a great part be lost, yet certain of them
yet remain, wherein is declared, among other things, the order and
number of the books and Gospels of the New Testament, &c.

The same time, moreover, lived Pantenus, which was the first in
Alexandria that professed in open school to read, of whom is thought
first to proceed the order and manner among the Christians to read
and profess in universities. This Pantenus, for his excellency of
learning, was sent by Demetrius, bishop of Alexandria, to preach to
the Indians, where he found the Gospel of St. Matthew written in
Hebrew, left there by St. Bartholomew, which book afterward he
brought with him from thence to the library of Alexandria.

During all the reign of Commodus, God granted rest and tranquillity,
although not without some bloodshed of certain holy martyrs, as is
above declared unto his church. In the which time of tranquillity,
the Christians having now some leisure from the foreign enemy, began
to have a little contention among themselves about the ceremony of
Easter; which contention albeit of long time before had been stirring
in the church, as is before mentioned of Polycarp and Anicetus; yet
the variance and difference of that ceremony brought no breach of
Christian concord and society among them: neither as yet did the
matter exceed so far, but that the bond of love and communion of
brotherly life continued, although they differed in the ceremony of
the day. For they of the west church pretending the tradition of Paul
and Peter, but indeed being the tradition of Hermes and of Pius, kept
one day, which was upon the Sunday after the fourteenth day of the
first month. The church of Asia, following the ordinance of John the
apostle, observed another, as more shall be declared (the Lord
willing) when we come to the time of Victor, bishop of Rome. In the
mean time, as concerning the fourth persecution, let this hitherto
suffice.

) had not his mother privily in the night season conveyed away his
clothes and his shirt. Whereupon more for shame to be seen, than for
Lear to die, he was constrained to remain at home; and when he could
do nothing else, yet he writeth to his father a letter with these
words: Take heed to yourself that you turn not your thought and
purpose for our sake, &c. Such a fervency had this Origen, being yet
young, to the doctrine of Christ's faith, by the operation of God's
heavenly providence, and partly also by the diligent education of his
father, who brought him up from his youth most studiously in all good
literature, but especially in the reading and exercise of Holy
Scripture, wherein he had such inward and mystical speculation, that
many times he would move questions to his father of the meaning of
this place or that place in the Scripture. Insomuch that his father
divers times would uncover his breast, being asleep, and kiss it,
giving thanks to God which had made him so happy a father of such a
happy child. After the death of his father, and all his goods
confiscated to the emperor, he with his poor mother, and five
brethren, were brought to such extreme poverty, that he did sustain
both himself and them by teaching a school; till at length, being
weary of the profession, he transferred his study only to the
knowledge and seeking of Divine Scripture, and such other learning
conducible to the same. So much he profited both in the Hebrew and
other tongues, that he conferred the Hebrew text with the translation
of the threescore; and, moreover, did confer and find out the other
translations which we call the common translation of Aquila, of
Symmachus, and Theodotion. Also he adjoined to these aforesaid other
four translations, whereof more is in the story of Eusebius
expressed.

They that write of the life of Origen, testify of him that he was of
wit quick and sharp, much patient of labour, a great travailer in the
tongues, of a spare diet, of a strict life, a great faster; his
teaching and his living were both one; his going was much barefoot; a
strict observer of that saying of the Lord, bidding to have but one
coat, &c. He is said to have written so much as seven notaries and so
many maids every day could pen. The number of his books, by the
account of Hierom, came to seven thousand volumes, the copies whereof
he used to sell for three pence, or a little more, for the
sustentation of his living. But of him more shall be touched
hereafter. So zealous he was in the cause of Christ, and of Christ's
martyrs, that he, nothing fearing his own peril, would assist and
exhort them going to their death, and kiss them, insomuch that he was
oft in jeopardy to be stoned of the multitude; and sometimes by the
provision of Christian men had his house guarded about with soldiers,
for the safety of them which daily resorted to hear his readings. And
many times he was compelled to shift places and houses, for such as
laid wait for him in all places; but great was the providence of God
to preserve him in the midst of all this tempest of Severus. Among
others which resorted unto him, and were his hearers, Plutarchus was
one, and died a martyr; and with him Serenus his brother, who was
burned. The third after these was Heraclides, the fourth Heron, who
were both beheaded. The fifth was another Serenus, also beheaded,
Rhais, and Potamiena, who was tormented with pitch poured upon her,
and martyred with her mother Marcella, who died also in the fire.
This Potamiena was of a fresh and flourishing beauty, who, because
she could not be removed from her profession, was committed to
Basilides, one of the captains there in the army, to see the
execution done. Basilides receiving her at the judge's hand, and
leading her to the place, showed her some compassion in repressing
the rebukes and railings of the wicked adversaries: for the which
Potamiena the virgin, to requite again his kindness, bade him be of
good comfort, saying that she would pray the Lord to show mercy upon
him; and so went she to her martyrdom, which she both strongly and
quietly did sustain.

Not long after it happened that Basilides was required to give an
oath in a matter concerning his fellow soldiers, which thing he
denied to do, plainly affirming that he was a Christian; for their
oath then was wont to be by the idols and the emperor. At the first
he was thought dissemblingly to jest; but after, when he was heard
constantly and in earnest to confirm the same, he was had before the
judge, and so by him committed to ward. The Christians marvelling
thereat, as they came to him in the prison, inquired of him the cause
of that his sudden conversion; to whom he answered again, and said,
that Potamiena had prayed for him to the Lord, and so he saw a crown
put upon his head; adding, moreover, that it should not be long but
he should be received. Which things thus done, the next day following
he was had to the place of execution, and there beheaded. Albeit the
said Eusebius giveth this story of no credit, but only of hearsay, as
he there expresseth.

As divers and many there were that suffered in the days of this
Severus, so some there were again, which, through the protection of
God's providence, being put to great torments, yet escaped with life;
of whom was one Alexander, who, for his constant confession and
torments suffered, was made bishop afterward of Jerusalem, together
with Narcissus; who being then an old man of a hundred and threescore
years and three, as saith Eusebius, was unwieldy for his age to
govern that function alone.

Of this Narcissus it is reported, in the Ecclesiastical History, that
certain miracles by him were wrought, very notable, if they be true.
First of water by him turned into oil, at the solemn vigil of Easter,
what time the congregation wanted oil for their lamps. Another
miracle is also told of him, which is this: There were three evil-
disposed persons, who seeing the soundness and grave constancy of his
virtuous life, and fearing their own punishment, as a conscience that
is guilty is always fearful, thought to prevent his accusations, in
accusing him first, and laying a heinous crime unto his charge. And
to make their accusation more probable before the people, they bound
their accusation with a great oath; one wishing to be destroyed with
fire, if he said not true; the other to be consumed with a grievous
sickness; the third to lose both his eyes, if they did lie.
Narcissus, although having his conscience clear, yet not able, being
but one man, to withstand their accusation, bound with such oaths,
gave place, and removed himself from the multitude into a solitary
desert by himself, where he continued the space of many years. In the
mean time, to them which so willingly and wickedly forsware
themselves this happened: the first, by casualty of one little small
spark of fire, was burnt with his goods and all his family. The
second was taken with a great sickness, from the top to the toe, and
devoured with the same. The third, hearing and seeing the punishment
of the other, confessed his fault, but through great repentance
poured out such tears that he lost both his eyes: and thus was their
false perjury punished. Narcissus, after long absence returning home
again, was by this means both cleared of the fact, and received into
his bishopric again; to whom, as is said, for impotency of his age,
Alexander was joined in execution of the function. Of this Alexander
is recorded in the said Ecclesiastical History, that after his
agonies and constancy of his confession showed in the persecution of
Severus, he was admonished by a vision in the night season to make
his journey up to Jerusalem and Palestine, (for that place remained
free from this persecution,) to see there the congregation and to
pray. Thus he, taking his journey, and drawing near to the city, a
vision with plain words was given to certain chief heads of Jerusalem
to go out of the gate of the city, there to receive the bishop
appointed to them of God. And so was Alexander met and received, and
joined partner with aged Narcissus, as is before expressed, in the
city of Jerusalem, where he continued bishop above
forty years, until the persecution of Decius, and there erected a
famous library, where Eusebius had his chiefest help in writing his
Ecclesiastical History. He wrote also divers epistles to divers
churches, and licensed Origen openly to teach in his church. At
length, being very aged, he was brought from Jerusalem to Cesarea
before the judge under Decius, where after his constant confession
the second time, he was committed to prison, and there died.

Besides these that suffered in this persecution of Severus, recited
of Eusebius, Vincentius also speaketh of one Andoclus, whom Polycarp
before had sent into France; which Andoclus, because he spread there
the doctrine of Christ, was apprehended of Severus, and first beaten
with staves and bats, and after was beheaded.

To these above named may also be added Asclepiades, who, although he
was not put to death in this persecution of Severus, yet constantly
he did abide the trial of his confession, and suffered much for the
same, as Alexander before mentioned did. Wherefore afterward he was
ordained bishop of Antioch, where he continued the space of seven
years, of whom Alexander writes unto the church of Antioch out of
prison, much rejoicing and
giving thanks to God to hear that he was their bishop.

About the same time, during the reign of Severus, died Irenæus. Ado,
and other martyr writers, do hold, that he was martyred with a great
multitude of others more, for the confession and doctrine of Christ,
about the fourth or fifth year of Severus. This Irenæus, as he was a
great writer, so was he greatly commended of Tertullian for his
learning, whom he calleth a great searcher of all kind of learning.
He was first scholar and hearer of Polycarp; from thence either was
sent or came to France, and there, by Photinus, and the rest of the
martyrs, was instituted into the ministry, and commended by their
letter to Eleutherius, as is before premonished. At length, after the
martyrdom of Photinus, he was appointed bishop of Lyons, where he
continued about the space of three and twenty years. In the time of
this Irenæus the state of the church was much troubled, not only for
the outward persecution of the foreign enemy, but also for divers
sects and errors then stirring, against which he diligently laboured
and wrote much, although but few books be now remaining. The nature
of this man, well agreeing with his name, was such, that he ever
loved peace, and sought to set agreement when any controversy rose in
the church. And therefore, when the question of keeping the Easter-
day was renewed in the church between Victor, bishop of Rome, and the
churches of Asia, and when Victor would have excommunicated them as
schismatics, for disagreeing from him therein; Irenæus, with other
brethren of the French church, sorry to see such a contention among
brethren for such a trifle, convented themselves together in a common
council, and directing their letter with their common consent
subscribed, sent unto Victor, entreating him to stay his purpose, and
not to proceed in excommunicating his brethren for that matter.
Although they themselves agreed with him in observing the Sunday
Easter as he did; yet with great reasons and arguments they exhorted
him not to deal so rigorously with his other brethren, following the
ancient custom of their country manner in that behalf. And besides
this, he wrote divers other letters abroad concerning the same
contention, declaring the excommunication of Victor to be of no
force.

Not long after Irenæus followed also Tertullian about the time of
this Severus, and Antoninus Caracalla his son, a man both in Greek
and Latin well expert, having great gifts in disputing, and in
writing eloquent, as his books declare, and as the commendation of
all learned men doth testify no less. To whom Vincentius Liriensis
giveth such praise, that he calleth him the flower of all Latin
writers; and of the eloquence of his style he thus writeth: that with
the force of his reasons, he saith, whom he could not persuade, them
he compelled to consent unto him. How many words, so many sentences,
and how many sentences, so many victories, he had, &c.

Such men of doing and writing God raised up from time to time, as
pillars and stays for his poor church, as he did this Tertullian, in
these dangerous days of persecution; for when the Christians were
vexed with wrongs, and falsely accused of the Gentiles, Tertullian
taking their cause in hand, defendeth them against the persecutors,
and against their slanderous accusations. First, that they never
minded any stir or rebellion, either against the empire or emperors
of Rome; for so much as the use of Christians was to pray for the
state of their emperors and governors. And whereas they were accused
falsely to be enemies to all man kind, how could that be, (saith
Tertullian to Scapula,) seeing the proper office of the Christians is
by their profession to pray for all men, to love their enemies, never
requiting evil for evil, whenas all other do love but only their
friends, and scarcely them? As touching the horrible slander of
murdering infants, how can that be true in the Christians, (saith
he,) whose order is to abstain from all blood and strangled, insomuch
that it is not lawful for them to touch the blood of any beast at
their tables when they feed? From filthy copulation no sort more free
than they, which are, and ever have been, the greatest observers of
chastity, of whom, such as may, live in perpetual virginity all their
life; such as cannot, contract matrimony, for avoiding all whoredom
and fornication. Neither can it be proved that the Christians do
worship the sun; which false surmise Tertullian declareth to rise
hereof, for that the manner of the Christians was to pray toward the
east. Much less was there any of them so mad as to worship an ass's
head; whereof the occasion being taken only of the Jews, the slander
thereof therefore he proveth to be falsely and wrongfully laid to the
charge of the Christians.

And likewise against all other lies and slanders, objected of the
heathen against the Christians, the said Tertullian purgeth the
Christians, declaring them falsely to be belied, and wrongfully
persecuted, not for any desert of theirs, but only for the hatred of
their name, And yet, notwithstanding, by the same persecutions, he
proveth in the same Apology the religion of the Christians nothing to
be impaired, but rather increased. The more (saith he) we are mown
down of you, the more rise up. The blood of Christians is seed. For
what man, (saith he,) in beholding the painful torments and the
perfect patience of them, will not search and inquire what is the
cause? and when he hath found it out, who will not agree unto it? and
when he agreeth to it, who will not desire to suffer for it? Thus
(saith he) this sect will never die, which the more it is cut down,
the more it groweth. For every man seeing and wondering at the
sufferance of the saints, is moved the more thereby to search the
cause; in searching he findeth it, and finding he followeth it.

Thus Tertullian, in this dangerous time of persecution, being stirred
up of God, defended the innocency of the Christians against the
blasphemy of the adversaries; and, moreover, for the instruction of
the church, he compiled many fruitful works, Whereof some are extant,
some are not to be found. Notwithstanding the great learning and
famous virtues of this worthy man, certain errors and blemishes are
noted in his doctrine, as were before both of Origen and Irenæus, and
likewise of them, were they never so excellent, that followed them.
Which errors, all here in order to note and comprehend, were too long
a matter for this story to prosecute. This, by the way, shall be
sufficient, to admonish the reader never to look for any such
perfection of any man in this world, how singular soever he be
(Christ only excepted); but some
blemish or other joineth itself withal, whereof more, perchance,
shall be said when we come to Cyprian.

And now to return again to the order of bishops of Rome intermitted.
After Eleutherius afore mentioned, next in the bishopric of Rome
succeed Victor, who, as Platina saith, died quietly in the days of
Severus. But Damasus, and such as do follow the common chronicles,
affirm that he died a martyr, after he had sat ten (or, as some say,
twelve) years. This Victor was a great stirrer (as partly before is
signified) in the controversy and contention of Easter-day, for the
which he would have proceeded in excommunication against the churches
of Asia, had not Irenæus, then bishop of Lyons, with the counsel of
other his brethren there assembled, repressed his intended violence.
As touching that controversy of Easter in those days of the primitive
church, the original thereof was this, as Eusebius, Socrates,
Platina, and others, record. First, certain it is that the apostles,
being only intentive and attendant to the doctrine of salvation, gave
no heed nor regard to the observation of days and times, neither
bound the church to any ceremonies and rites, except those things
necessary mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles, as strangled and
blood, which was ordained then of the Holy Ghost, not without a most
urgent and necessary cause, touched partly in the history before. For
when the murdering and blood of infants was commonly objected by the
heathen persecutors against the Christians, they had no other
argument to help themselves, nor to refell the adversary, but only
their own law, by the which they were commanded to abstain, not only
from all men's blood, but also from the blood of all common beasts.
And therefore that law seemeth by the Holy Ghost to be given, and
also to the same end continued in the church, so long as the cause,
that is, the persecutions of the heathen Gentiles, continued. Besides
these, we read of no other ceremonies or rites which the apostles
greatly regarded, but left such things free to the liberty of
Christians, every man to use therein his own discretion, for the
using or not using thereof. Whereupon, as concerning all the
ceremonial observation of days, times, places, meats, drinks,
vestures, and such others; of all these things neither was the
diversity among men greatly noted, nor any uniformity greatly
required. Insomuch that Irenæus, writing to Victor of the tradition
of days, and of fastings, and of the diversity of these things then
used among the primitive fathers, saith, Notwithstanding all this
variety, all they kept peace among themselves, and yet we keep it
still, and this difference of fasting among us commendeth more the
concord of faith. And so long did the doctrine of Christian liberty
remain whole and sound in the church till the time of Victor, which
was about the year of our Lord two hundred; although the diversity of
these usages began before also in the days of Pius and Anicetus,
about the year of Christ one hundred sixty and three, to be misliked;
yet restraint hereof was not so much urged before as in the time of
Victor. And yet neither did the violence of Victor take such place,
but that the doctrine of Christian liberty was defended and
maintained by means of Irenæus and others, and so continued in the
church till after the Council of Nice. And thus much concerning the
doctrine of Christian liberty, and of the differences of rites and
ceremonies.
Now to return to Victor again, to show what diversity there was
in observing the day of Easter, and how it came, thus is the story.
First, in the time of Pius and Anicetus, in the year of Christ one
hundred sixty and three, the question of Easter-day began first to be
moved; at what time Pius, by the revelation of Hermes, decreed the
observation of that day to be changed from the wonted manner of the
fourteenth day of the moon in the first month unto the next Sunday
after. After him came Anicetus, Soter, and Eleutherius, bishops of
Rome, which also determined the same. Against these stood Melito,
bishop of Sardis, Polycarp, and, as some think, Egesippus, with other
learned men of Asia. Which Polycarp, being sent by the brethren of
Asia, came to Rome, as is aforesaid, to confer with Anicetus in that
matter; wherein, when they could not agree after long debating, yet,
notwithstanding, they did both communicate together with reverence,
and departed in peace. And so the celebration of Easter-day remained
as a thing indifferent in the church, till the time of Victor; who,
following after Anicetus and his fellows, and chiefly stirring in
this matter, endeavoured by all means and might to draw, or rather
subdue, the churches of Asia unto his opinion; thinking, moreover, to
excommunicate all those bishops and churches of Asia as heretics and
schismatics which disagreed from the Roman order; had not Irenæus
otherwise restrained him from that doing, as is aforesaid, which was
about the year of our Lord one hundred four score and eleven, in the
reign of Commodus. Thus then began the uniformity of keeping that
holy day to be first required as a thing necessary, and all they
accounted as heretics and schismatics which dissented from the bishop
and tradition of Rome.

With Victor stood Theophilus, bishop of Cesarea, Narcissus of
Jerusalem, Irenæus of Lyons, Palmas of Pontus, Banchillus of Corinth,
the bishop of Ostroena, and others more. All which condescended to
have the celebration of Easter upon the
Sunday, because they would differ from the Jews in all things as near
as they might; and partly, because the resurrection of the Lord fell
on the same day.

On the contrary side, divers bishops were in Asia, of whom the
principal was Polycrates, bishop of Ephesus, who being assembled with
a great multitude of bishops and brethren of those parts, by the
common assent of the rest, wrote again to Victor, and to the church
of Rome, declaring that they had ever from the beginning observed
that day according to the rule of Scripture unchanged, neither adding
nor altering any thing from the same; alleging, moreover, for them
the examples of the apostles and holy fathers, their predecessors, as
Philip the apostle, with his three daughters, at Hieropolis; also
John the apostle and evangelist at Ephesus, Polycarp at Smyrna,
Thraseas at Eumenia, bishop and martyr; likewise of Sagaris at
Laodicea, bishop and martyr, holy Papirius, and Melito at Sardis.
Besides these, bishops also of his own kindred, and his own
ancestors, to the number of seven, which all were bishops before him,
and he the eighth, now after them. All which observed (saith he) the
solemnity of the same day, after the same wise and sort as we do now.

Victor, being not a little moved herewith, by letters again
denounceth against them (more bold upon authority than wise in his
commission) violent excommunication; albeit, by the wise handling of
Irenæus and other learned men, that matter was stayed, and Victor
otherwise persuaded. That the variance and difference of ceremonies
is no strange matter in the church of Christ, whenas this variety is
not only in the day of Easter, but also in the manner of fasting, and
in divers other uses among the Christians. For some fast one day,
some two days, some others fast more. Others there be, which,
counting forty hours, both day and night, take that for a full day's
fast. And this so divers fashion of fasting in the church of Christ
began not only in this our time, but was before among our fore-
elders. And yet notwithstanding they with all this diversity were in
unity among themselves, and so be we; neither doth this difference of
ceremonies any thing hinder, but rather commendeth the concord of
faith. And he bringeth forth the examples of the fathers, of
Telesphorus, Pius, Anicetus, Soter, Eleutherius, and such others, who
neither observed the same usage themselves, nor prescribed it to
others, and yet notwithstanding kept Christian charity with such as
came to communicate with them, not observing the same form of things
which they observed, as well appeared by Polycarp and Anicetus, which
although they agreed not in one uniform custom of rites, yet refused
not to communicate together, the one giving reverence unto the other.
Thus the controversy, being taken up between Irenæus and Victor,
remained free to the time of the Nicene Council. And thus much
concerning the controversy of that matter, and concerning the doings
of Victor.

After Victor succeeded in the see of Rome Zephirinus, in the days of
the foresaid Severus, about the year of our Lord two hundred and
three. To this Zephirinus be ascribed two epistles, in the first tome
of the Councils. But as I have said before of the decretal epistles
of other Roman bishops, so I say and verily suppose of this, that
neither the countenance of the style, nor the matter therein
contained, nor the condition of the time, doth otherwise give to
think of these letters but that they be verily bastard letters, not
written by these fathers, nor in these times, but craftily and
wickedly packed in by some, which, to set up the primacy of Rome,
have most pestilently abused the authority of these holy and ancient
fathers, to deceive the simple church. For who is so rude but that in
considering only the state of those terrible times he may easily
understand, (except affection blind him,) beside a number of other
probable conjectures to lead him, that the poor persecuted bishops in
that time would have been glad to have any safe covert to put their
heads in? so far was it off that they had any lust or leisure then to
seek for any primacy or patriarchship, or to drive all other churches
to appeal to the see of Rome, or to exempt all priests from the
accusation of any layman; as in the first epistle of Zephirinus is to
be seen, written to the bishops of Sicilia; and likewise the second
epistle of his to the bishops of the province of Egypt, containing no
manner of doctrine nor consolation necessary for that time, but only
certain ritual decrees to no purpose, argueth no less but the said
epistles neither to savour of that man, nor to taste of that time.

Of like credit also seemeth the constitution of the patins of glass,
which Danlasus saith that the same Zephirinus ordained to be carried
before the priest at the celebration of the mass. Again, Platina
writeth that he ordained the administration of the sacrament to be no
more used in vessels of wood, or of glass, or of any other metal,
except only silver, gold, and tin, &c. But how these two testimonies
of Damasus and Platina join together, let the reader judge;
especially seeing the same decree is referred to Urbanus, that came
after him. Again, what needed this decree of golden chalices to be
established afterward in the Council of Tiber and Rhens, if it had
been enacted before by Zephirinus? How long this Zephirinus sat our
writers do vary. Eusebius saith he died in the reign of Caracalla,
and sat seventeen years. Platina writeth that he died under Severus,
and sat eight years, and so saith also Naucicrus. Damasus affirmeth
that he sat sixteen years and two months.

Matheus, author of the story entitled Flores Historiarum, with other
later chronicles, maketh mention of Perpetua, and Felicitas, and
Revocatus her brother, also of Saturninus and Satyrus, brethren, and
Secundulus, which in the persecution of this Severus gave over their
lives to martyrdom for Christ, being thrown to wild beasts, and
devoured of the same in Carthage and in Africa; save that Saturninus,
brought again from the beasts, was beheaded, and Secundulus died in
prison about the year of our Lord two hundred and two, as writeth
Florilegus.

This Severus the persecutor reigned, as the most part of writers
accord, the term of eighteen years, who about the later time of his
reign came with his army hither into Britain, where after many
conflicts had with the Britons, in the borders of the north, he cast
up a ditch with a mighty wall, made of earth, and turfs, and strong
stakes, to the length of one hundred thirty and two miles, from the
one side of the sea to the other, beginning at Tine, and reaching to
the Scottish sea; which done he removed to York, and there by the
breaking in of the northem men and the Scots was besieged and slain,
about the year of our Lord two hundred and eleven, leaving behind him
two sons, Bassianus and Geta. Which Bassianus, surnamed Caracalla,
after he had slain his brother Geta here in Britain, governed the
empire alone, the space of six years. After whose death, he being
slain also of his servants, (as he had slain his brother before,)
succeeded Macrinus, with his son Diadumenus, to be emperor, who,
after they had reigned one year, were both slain of their own people.

After them followed Varius Heliogabalus in the empire, rather to be
called a monster than a man, so prodigious was his life in all
gluttony, filthiness, and ribaldry. Such was his pomp, that in his
lamps he used balm, and filled his fishponds with rose water. To let
pass his sumptuous vestures, which he would not wear but only of
gold, and most costly silks, his shoes glistering with precious
stones finely engraved, he was never two days served with one kind of
meat; he never wore one garment twice. And likewise for his fleshly
wickedness, some days his company was served at meal with the brains
of ostriches, and a strange fowl called phenocoptery; another day
with the tongues of popinjays, and other sweet singing birds. Being
nigh to the sea, he never used fish; in places far distant from the
sea, all his house was served with
most delicate fishes: at one supper he was served with seven thousand
fishes and five thousand fowls. At his removing in his progress,
often there followed him six hundred chariots laden only with bawds,
common harlots, and ribalds. He sacrificed young children, and
preferred to the best advancements in the commonweal most light
personages, as minstrels, carters, and such-like; in one word, he was
an enemy to all honesty and good order. And when he was foretold by
his sorcerers and astronomers that he should die a violent death, he
provided ropes of silk to hang himself, swords of gold to kill
himself, and strong poison in hyacinths and emeralds to poison
himself, if needs he must thereto be forced; moreover, he made a high
tower, having the floor of boards covered with gold plate, bordered
with precious stones, from the which tower he would throw himself
down, if he should be pursued of his enemies. But notwithstanding all
his provision, he was slain of the soldiers, drawn through the city,
and cast into Tiber, after he had reigned two years and eight months,
as witnesseth Eutropius; others say four years.

This Heliogabalus, having no issue, adopted to his son and heir
Aurelius Alexander Severus, the son of Mammea, who entering his reign
the year of our Lord two hundred twenty and four, continued thirteen
years, well commended for virtuous, wise, gentle, liberal, and to no
man hurtful. And as he was not unlearned himself, through the
diligent education of Mammea his mother; so he was a great favourer
of men wise and learned. Neither did he any thing in the commonweal
without the assistance of learned and sage counsellors. It is
reported of him to bear such stomachs against corrupt judges, that
when he chanced to meet with any of them, by the commotion of his
mind he would cast up choler, being so moved with them that he could
not speak, and was ready with his two fingers to put out their eyes.
From his court he dismissed all superfluous and unnecessary servants,
saying that he was no good pupil which fed idle servants with the
bowels of his commonweal.

Among his other good virtues, it appeareth also that he was friendly
and favourable unto the Christians, as by this act may be gathered;
for when the Christians had occupied a certain public place in some
good use, belike for the assembling and conventing together of the
congregation, the company of the cooks or tipplers made challenge of
that place to belong unto them. The matter being brought before the
emperor, he judged it more honest the place to be continued to the
worship of God, howsoever it were, than the dirty slubbering of cooks
and scullions.

By this it may be understood that in Rome no Christian churches were
erected unto this time, when as yet (notwithstanding this favour of
the emperor) no public house could quietly be obtained for the
Christians. So that by the reason hereof may appear the decretal
epistle and ordinance of Pope Higinus. concerning the dedication of
churches above mentioned, to be falsified. And likewise the ordinance
of Pius his successor, concerning the altar, or high altar, to be
also false. For what high altar was it like they had in the time of
Higinus and Pius, whenas at this time, which was long after, no
public place almost could be granted them for the Christians to
assemble together?

Of this Alexander Platina writeth, that as he was a great hater of
all boasters and flatterers, so he was of such prudence, that no
deceit could escape him; and bringeth in a story of one Turinus, who
had gotten craftily many great bribes and gifts, in making the people
believe that he was of great authority with the emperor, and that he
could help them to have whatsoever they sued for. Whereof the emperor
being certified, caused him in the open market to be fastened to a
stake, and there killed with smoke, where the crier stood thus crying
to the people: Smoke he sold, and with smoke he is punished.

Mammea, the mother of this Alexander above mentioned, (whom Hierom
calleth a devout and religious woman,) hearing of the fame and the
excellent learning of Origen, being then at Alexandria, sent for him
to Antioch, desirous to hear and see him; unto whom the foresaid
Origen according to her request resorted, and after that he had there
remained a space with the emperor and his mother, returned again to
Alexandria.

And thus continued this good emperor his reign the space of thirteen
years; at length at a commotion in Germany, with his mother Mammea,
he was slain. After whom succeeded Maximinus, contrary to the mind of
the senate, only appointed by the soldiers to be emperor. During all
this time, between Severus and this Maximinus, the church of Christ,
although it had not perfect peace, yet it had some mean tranquillity
from persecution. Albeit some martyrs there were at this time that
suffered, whereof Nauclerus giveth this reason: For although (saith
he) Alexander, being persuaded through the entreating of his mother
Mammea, did favour the Christians; yet notwithstanding there was no
public edict or proclamation provided for their safeguard. By reason
whereof divers there were which suffered martyrdom under Almachius
and other judges. In the number of whom, after some stories, was
Calixtus, bishop of Rome, who succeeded next unto Zephirinus above
mentioned; and after him Urbanus also; which both being bishops of
Rome, did both suffer, by the opinion of some writers, under
Alexander Severus.

This Calixtus in his two decretal epistles, written to Benedictus,
and to the bishops of France, giveth these ordinances: that no
actions or accusations against the prelates or teachers of the church
should be received; that no secret conspiracies should be made
against bishops; item, no man to communicate with persons
excommunicate; also, no bishop to excommunicate or to deal in
another's diocess. And here he expoundeth the diocess, or the parish,
of any bishop or minister to be his wife. The wife (saith the
apostle) is bound to the law as long as the husband liveth; when he
is dead, she is free from the law: so (saith Calixtus) the wife of a
bishop (which is his church) so long as he liveth is bound only to
him, neither ought to be judged or disposed by any other man without
his will and judgment; after his death she is free from the law to
marry to whom she will, so it be in the Lord, that is, regularly. In
the end of the said his epistle decretal, he confuteth the error of
them which hold, that they which are fallen are not to be received
again. Which heresy, after the time of Calixtus or Calistus, came in
first by Novatus, in the days of Cornelius. Moreover, in his said
first epistle decretal is contained the fast of the four times,
commonly called the ember fast, whereof also Marianus Scotus maketh
mention. But Damasus, speaking of the same fast, saith he ordained
the fast but of three times, which was for the increase of corn,
wine, and oil.

By these hitherto promised, it is not hard for a quick reader to
smell out the crafty juggling of that person or persons, whosoever
they were, that falsely have ascribed these decretal institutions to
those holy fathers. For, first, what leisure had the Christians to
lay in their accusations against their bishops, when we never read or
find in any story any kind of variance in those days among them, but 
all love, mutual compassion, and hearty communion among the saints?
And as we read of no variance among the people in those days, nor of
any fault or back sliding among the bishops, who for the most part
then died all constant martyrs; so neither do we read of any tribunal
seat or consistory used or fre quented then about any such matters.
Again, if a man examine well the dangers of those busy days, he shall
see the poor flock of the Christians so occupied and piteously
oppressed by the cruel accusations of the heathen infidels, that
though the cause did, yet the time would not, serve them to commence
any law against their bishops. Secondly, as touching their conspiracy
against bishops, what conspiracy either would they then practise
against them, which always gave their lives for their defence? Or how
could they then conspire in any companies together, when never a true
Christian man durst once put his head out of his doors? neither was
there in the church any Christian man in those perilous days, except
he were a true man indeed, such as was far from all false
conspiracies. And when as all the world almost in all places
conspired against them, what time, what cause, or what heart, trow
ye, could they have to conspire against their instructors? Thirdly,
concerning the confutation of that heresy, how standeth the
confutation with the time of Calixtus, when Novatus, the author of
that heresy, was after him in the time of Cornelius? Fourthly, if by
the law of Calixtus every diocess be the proper wife of every bishop
or minister, then how many bishops' wives, and parsons' wives, had
the adulterous pope of Rome defloured in these later days of the
church, which so proudly and impudently hath intermeddled and taken 
his pleasure and his own profit in every diocess and parish almost
through all Christendom, without all leave and licence of the good
man, who hath been in the mean time, and yet is compelled still,
wheresoever the pope's holiness cometh, to give him leave unasked to
do what he list! Wherefore, if this canon decretal be truly his, why
is it not observed, so as it doth stand without exception? If it be
not, why is it then falsely forged upon him, and the church of Christ
deceived? and certes, lamentable it is, that this falsifying of such
trifling traditions, under the false pretence of antiquity, either
was begun in the church to deceive the people, or that it hath
remained so long undetected. For, as I think, the church of Christ
will never be perfectly reformed before these decretal constitutions
and epistles, which have so long put on the visor of antiquity, shall
be fully detected, and appear in their own colour, wherein they where
first painted.

And yet neither do I say this, or think contrary, but that it may be
that bishops of Rome and of the same name have been the true authors
of these traditions. But here cometh in the error, (as I credibly
suppose,) that when other later bishops of the like name have devised
these ceremonial inventions, the vulgar opinion of men hath
transferred them to the first primitive fathers, although being of
another time, yet bearing the same name with the true kn ventors
thereof.

After Calixtus followed Urbanus, about the year of our Lord two
hundred twenty and seven, who in his epistle decretal, (coming out of
the same forge,) which he wrote in common to all bishops, making no
mention of the heavy persecutions of the church, nor ministering any
exhortation of comfort or constancy to the brethen, only giveth many
strict precepts for not transporting or alienating the goods of the
church, and to pay truly their offerings which they vow; also to have
all common among the clergy. Moreover, about the end of his epistle,
he instituteth the confirmation of children after baptism (which the
papists be wont to take into the number of their seven sacraments);
affirming and denouncing more than Scripture will bear, that the
imposition of the bishop's hand bringeth the Holy Ghost, and that
thereby men be made full Christians, &c. But of these decretal
epistles enough is said before, more may be considered of the
discreet reader. Marianus Scotus, Sabellicus, Nauclerus, and other
late story writers, do hold, as is aforesaid, that he died a martyr
in the days of Alexander Severus, after he had governed that seat
four years, as Damasus and Platina do witness, as Marianus saith,
eight years. 	

The same Damasus and Platina do testify of him, that he by his
preaching and holiness of life converted divers Ethnics to the faith;
among whom were Tiburtius, and Valerianus, the husband of Cecilia;
which both, being noblemen of Rome, remained constant in the faith
unto the end and martyrdom. Of this Cecilia thus it is written in the
martyrology by Ado: that Cecilia the virgin, after she had brought
Valerian, her husband espoused, and Tiburtius his brother, to the
knowledge and faith of Christ, and with her exhortations had made
them constant unto martyrdom, after the suffering of them, she was
also apprehended by Almachius the ruler, and brought to the idols to
do sacrifice; which thing when she abhorred to do, she should be
presented before the judge to have the condemnation of death. In the
mean time, the serjeants and officers which were about her, beholding
her comely beauty, and the prudent behaviour in her conversation,
began with many persuasions of words to solicit her mind to favour
herself, and that so excellent beauty, and not to cast herself away,
&c. But she again so replied to them with reasons and godly
exhortations, that by the grace of Almighty God their hearts began to
kindle, and at length to yield to that religion which before they did
persecute. Which thing she perceiving, desired of the judge Almachius
a little respite; which being granted, she sendeth for Urbanus the
bishop home to her house, to establish and ground them in the faith
of Christ: and so were they with divers others at the same time
baptized, both men and women, to the number (as the story saith) of
four hundred persons, among whom was one Gordianus, a nobleman. This
done, this blessed martyr was brought before the judge, where she was
condemned; then after was brought to the house of the judge, where
she was enclosed in a hot bath; but she remaining there a whole day
and night without any hurt, as in a cold place, was brought out
again, and commaundment given, that in the bath she should be
beheaded. The executioner is said to have dealt four strokes at her
neck; and yet her head being cut off, she (as the story giveth) lived
three days after; and so died this holy virgin martyr, whose body in
the night season Urbanus the bishop took and buried among the other
bishops. Ado, the compiler of this martyrology, addeth, that this was
done in the time of Marcus Aurelius and Commodus. But that cannot be,
forsomuch as Urbanus by all histories was long after those emperors,
and lived in the days of this Alexander, as is above declared.
Antoninus, Bergomensis, Equilinus, with such other writers, set forth
this history with many strange miracles wrought by the said Cecilia,
in converting her husband Valerianus and his brother, in showing them
the angel which was the keeper of her virginity, and of the angel
putting on crowns upon their heads. But as touching these miracles,
as I do not dispute whether they be true or fabulous; so because they
have no ground upon any ancient or grave authors, but am taken out of
certain new legends, I do therefore refer them thither from whence
they came.

Under the same Alexander divers other there be whom Bergomensis
mentioned to have suffered martyrdom, as one Agapetus, of the age of
fifteen years, who, being apprehended and condemned at Preneste at
Italy, because he would not sacrifice to idols, was assailed with
sundry torments; first, with whips scourged; then hanged up by the
feet; after having hot water poured upon him, at the last cast to the
wild beasts; with all which torments, when he could not be hurt,
finally, with sword was beheaded. The executioner of these
punishments (as by Henricus Erford. may be gathered) was one
Antiochus, who, in the executing of the foresaid torments, suddenly
fell down from his judicial seat, crying out, that all his inward
bowels burned with in him, and so gave up the breath.

Also with the same Agapetus is numbered Calepodius, a minister of
Rome, whose body first was drawn through the city of Rome, and after
cast into Tiber.

Then followeth Pammachius, a senator of Rome, with his wife and
children, and others, both men and women, to the number of forty and
two.

Item, another noble senator of Rome, named Simplicius, all which
together in one day had their heads smitten off, and their heads
after hanged up in divers gates of the city, for a terror of others,
that none should profess the name of Christ.

Besides these suffered also Quiritius, a nobleman of Rome, who, with
his mother Julia, and a great number more, were put likewise to
death.

Also Tiberius and Valerianus, citizens of Rome, and brethren,
suffered (as Bergomensis saith) the same time, who, first being
bruised and broken with bats, after were beheaded.

Also Vincentius, Bergomensis, and Erfordiensis make mention of
Martina, a Christian virgin, which, after divers bitter punishments
being constant in her faith, suffered in like manner by the sword.

Albeit as touching the time of these forenamed matters, as I find
them not in older writers, so do I suppose them to suffer under
Maximinus or Decius, rather than under Alexander.



8. THE SIXTH PERSECUTION UNDER MAXIMUMUS

After the death of Alexander the emperor, who, with his mother
Mammea, (as is said,) was murdered in Germany, followed Maximinus,
chosen by the will of the soldiers, rather than by the authority of
the senate, about the year of our Lord two hundred thirty and seven;
who, for the hatred he had to the house of Alexander, (as Eusebius
recordeth,) raised up the sixth persecution against the Christians,
especially against the teachers and lead ers of the church, thinking
thereby the sooner to vanquish the rest, if the captains of them were
removed out of the way. Whereby I suppose the martyrdom of Urbanus
the bishop, and of the rest above specified, to have happened rather
under the tranny of this Maximinus than under Alexander. In the time
of this persecution Origen wrote his book on martyrdom; which book,
if it were extant, would give us some knowledge, I doubt not, of such
as in this persecution did suffer, which now lie in silence unknown;
and no doubt but a great number they were, and more should have been,
had not the provident mercy of God shortened his days and bridled his
tyranny, for he reigned but three years. After whom succeeded
Gordianus, in the year of our Lord two hundred and thirty-eight, a
man no less studious for the utility of the commonwealth than mild
and gentle to the Christians. This Gordianus, after he had governed
with much peace and tranquillity the monarchy of Rome the space of
six years, was slain of Philip, emperor after him.

In the days of these emperors above recited was Pontianus, bishop of
Rome, who succeeded next after Urbanus above rehearsed, about the
year of our Lord two hundred thirty and six, in the twelfth year of
Alexander, declaring him to sit six years. Contrary. Damasus and
Platina write, that he was bishop nine years and a half; and that in
the time of Alexander, he, with Philippus his priest, was banished
into Sardinia, and there died. But it seemeth more credible that he
was banished rather under Maximinus, and died in the beginning of the
reign of Gordianus. In his epistles deCretal (which seem likewise to
be feigned) he appeareth very devout, after the common example of
other bishops, to uphold the dignity of priests, and of clergymen;
saying that God hath them so familiar with him, that by them he
accepteth the offerings and oblations of others, and forgiveth their
sins, and reconcileth them unto him; also, that they do make the body
of the Lord with their own mouth, and give it to others, &c.; which
doctrine, how it standeth with the testament of God and glory of
Christ, let the reader use his own judgment.

Other notable fathers also in the same time were raised up in the
church, as Philetus, bishop of Antioch, which succeeded after
Asclepiades aforementioned, in the year of our Lord two hundred and
twenty; and after him Zebennus, bishop of the same place, in the year
of our Lord two hundred thirty and one.

To these also may be added Ammonius, the schoolmaster of Origen, as
Suidas supposeth; also the kinsmen of Porphyry, the great enemy of
Christ: notwithstanding, this Ammonius, endued with better grace, as
he left divers books in defence of Christ's religion, so did he
constantly persevere (as Eusebius reporteth) in the doctrine of
Christ, which he had in the beginning received, who was about the
days of Alexander.

Julius Africanus also, about the time of Gordianus aforesaid, is
numbered among the old and ancient writers, of whom Nicephorus
writeth that he was the scholar of Origen, and a great writer of
histories of that time.

Unto these doctors and confessors may be adjoined the story of
Natalius, mentioned in the first book of Eusebius. This Natalius had
suffered persecution before like a constant confessor, and was
seduced and persuaded by Asclepiodotus and Theodorus (which were the
disciples of Theodocus) to take upon him to be bishop of their sect,
promising to give him every month a hundred and fifty pieces of
silver: and so he joining himself to them was admonished by vision
and revelation from the Lord; for such was the great mercy of God,
and of our Lord Christ Jesus, that he would not have his martyr,
which had suffered so much for his name before, now to perish out of
his church: for the which cause (saith Eusebius) God by certain
visions did admonish him; but he not taking great heed thereunto,
being blinded partly with lucre, partly with honour, was at length
all the night long scourged of the angels, insomuch that he being
made thereby very sore; and early on the morrow putting on sackcloth,
with much weeping and lamentation went to Zephirinus, the bishop
above mentioned, where he falling down before him and all the
Christian congregation, showed them the stripes of his body, and
prayed them for the mercies of Christ, that he might be received into
their communion again, from which he had sequestered himself before,
and so was admitted according as he desired.

After the decease of Pontianus, bishop of Rome, aforementioned,
succeeded next in that place Anterius, of whom Isuardus writeth, that
Pontianus departing away did substitute him in his room; but Eusebius
writeth that he succeeded immediately after him. Damasus saith, that
because he caused the acts and deaths of the martyrs to be written,
therefore he was put to martyrdom himself by Maximinus the judge.
Concerning the time of this bishop our writers do greatly jar.
Eusebius and Marianus Scotus affirm that he was bishop but one month;
Sabellicus saith that not to be so. Damasus assigneth to him twelve
years and one month. Volateranus, Bergomensis, and Henricus Erford
give to him three years and one month. Nauclerus writeth that he sat
one year and one month. All which are so far discrepant one from
another, that which of them most agreeth with truth it lieth in
doubt. Next to this bishop was Fabianus, of whom more is to be said
hereafter.

Of Hippolytus also both Eusebius and Hieronymus make mention that he
was a bishop; but where they make no relation. And so likewise doth
Theodoretus witness him to be a bishop, and also a martyr, but naming
no place. Gelatius saith he died a martyr, and that he was bishop of
a head city in Arabia. Nicephorus writeth that he was bishop of
Ostia, a port town near to Rome. Certain it is he was a great writer,
and left many works in the church, which Eusebius and Jerome do
recite: by the calculation of Eusebius, he was about the year of our
Lord two hundred and thirty.

Prudentius, making mention of great heaps of martyrs buried by
threescore together, speaketh also of Hippolytus, and saith that he
was drawn with wild horses through fields, dales, and bushes, and
describeth thereof a pitiful story.

After the emperor Gordianus, the empire fell to Philippus, who with
Philip his son governed the space of seven years, in the year of our
Lord two hundred forty and four. This Philippus, with his son and all
his family, was christened and converted by Fabianus and Origen, who
by letters exhorted him and Severa his wife to be baptized, being the
first of all the emperors that brought in Christianity into the
imperial seat. Howsoever Pomponius Letus reporteth him to be a
dissembling prince, this is certain, that for his Christianity he
with his son was slain of Decius, one of his captains. Sabellicus
showeth this hatred of Decius against Philippus to be conceived, for
that the emperor Philip, both the father and the son, had committed
their treasures unto Fabianus, then bishop of Rome.



9. THE SEVENTH PERSECUTION UNDER DECIUS

Thus Philippus being slain, after him Decius invaded the crown about
the year of our Lord two hundred and fifty; by whom was moved a
terrible persecution against the Christians, which Orosius noteth to
be the seventh persecution. The first occasion of this hatred and
persecution of this tyrant, conceived against the Christians, was
chiefly (as is before touched) because of the treasures of the
emperor which were committed to Fabian the bishop.

This Fabian, first being a married man, (as Platin writeth,) was made
bishop of Rome after Anterius above mentioned, by the miraculous
appointment of God, which Eusebius doth thus describe in his sixth
book. When the brethren (saith he) were together in the congregation
about the election of their bishop, and had purposed among themselves
upon the nomination of some noble and worthy personage of Rome, it
chanced that Fabianus among others was there present, who of late
before was newly come out of the country to inhabit in the city. This
Fabian, (as is said,) thinking nothing less than of any such matter,
there suddenly cometh a dove flying from above, and sitteth upon his
head; where upon all the congregation being moved with one mind and
one voice to choose him for their bishop, in the which function he
remained the space of thirteen years, as Eusebius writeth; Damasus,
Marianus, and Sabellicus say fourteen years, unto the time of Decius;
who, whether for that Philippus had committed to him his treasures,
or whether for the hatred he bare to Philippus, in the beginning of
his reign, caused him to be put to death; sending out, moreover, his
proclamation into all quarters, that all which professed the name of
Christ should be slain.

To this Fabian be ascribed certain ordinances; as of consecrating new
oil once every year, and burning the old; of accusations against
bishops; of appealing to the see apostolic; of not marrying within
the fifth degree; of communicating thrice a year; of offering every
Sunday; with such other things more in his three epistles decretal:
the which epistles, as by divers other evidences, may be sup posed to
be untruly named upon him, giving no signification of any matter
agreeing to that time; so do I find the most part of the third
epistle, word for word, standing in the epistle of Sixtus the Third,
which followed almost two hundred years after him; beside the
unseemly doctrine also in the end of the said epistles contained,
where he, contrary to the tenor of the gospel, applieth remission of 
sins (only due to the blood of Christ) unto the offerings of bread
and wine by men and women every Sunday in the church.

To this Fabian wrote Origen, Of the Righteousness of his Faith;
whereby is to be understood that he continued to the time of Decius;
some say also, to the time of Gallus. Of this Origen partly mention
is touched before, declaring how bold and fervent he was in the days
of Severus in assisting, comforting, exhorting, and kissing the
martyrs that were imprisoned and suffered for the name of Christ,
with such danger of his own life, that had it not been the singular
protection of God, he had been stoned to death many times of the
heathen multitude. Such great concourse of men and women was daily at
his house to be catechised and instructed in the Christian faith by
him, that soldiers were hired of purpose to defend the place where he
taught them. Again, such search sometime was set for him, that scarce
any shifting of place or country could cover him. In whose laborious
travails and affairs of the church, in teaching, writing, confuting,
exhorting, and expounding, he continued about the space of fifty-two
years, unto the time of Decius and Gallus. Divers and great
persecutions he sustained, but especially under Decius, as testifieth
Eusebius in his sixth book; declaring that for the doctrine of Christ
he sustained bonds and torments in his body, rackings with bars of
iron, dungeons, besides terrible threats of death and burning. All
this he suffered in the persecution of Decius, as Eusebius recordeth
of him, and maketh no relation of any further matter. But Suidas and
Nicephorus following the same, saith further concerning him, that the
said Origen, after divers and sundry other torments, which he
manfully and constantly suffered for Christ, at length was brought to
an altar, where a foul, filthy Ethiop was appointed to be, and there
this option or choice was offered unto him, whether he would
sacrifice to the idols, or have his body polluted with that foul and
ugly Ethiop. Then Origen, (saith he,) who with a philosophical mind
ever kept his chastity undefiled, much abhorring that filthy villany
to be done to his body, condescended to their request: whereupon the
judge, putting incense in his hand, caused him to set it to the fire
upon the altar; for the which impiety he afterward was excommunicated
of the church. Epiphanius writeth, that he being urged to sacrifice
to idols, and taking the boughs in his hand, wherewith the heathen
were wont to honour their gods, called upon the Christians to carry
them in the honour of Christ. The which fact the church of Alexandria
misliking removed him from their communion whereupon Origen, driven
away with shame and sorrow out of Alexandria, went into Jewry, where
being in Jerusalem among the congregation, and there requested of the
priests and ministers (he being also a priest) to make some
exhortation in the church, he refused a great while to do. At length,
by importunate petition being constrained thereunto, he rose up, and
turning the book, as though he would have expounded some place of the
Scripture, he only read the verse of the forty-ninth Psalm, But God
said to the sinner, Why dost thou preach my justifications, and why
dost thou take my testament in thy mouth? &c. Which verse being read,
he shut the book, and sat down weeping and wailing, the whole
congregation also weeping and lamenting with him. More what became of
Origen it is not found in history, but only that Suidas addeth, he
died and was buried at Tyrus. Eusebius affirmeth, that he departed
unto the emperor Gallus, about the year of our Lord two hundred fifty
and five, and the seventieth year of his age, in great misery (as
appeareth) and poverty.

In this Origen divers blemishes of doctrine be noted, whereupon
Hierom sometimes doth inveigh against him; albeit in some places
again he doth extol and commend him for his excellent learning, as in
his Apology against Ruffinus, and in his Epistle to Pammachius and
Ocean, where he praiseth Origen, although not for the perfection of
his faith and doctrine, nor for an apostle, yet for an excellent
interpreter, for his wit, and for a philosopher: and yet in his
Prologue upon the Homilies of Origen on Ezekiel, he calleth him
another master of the churches after the apostles. And in another
preface upon his Questions upon Genesis, he wisheth to himself the
knowledge of the Scriptures which Origen had, also with the envy of
his name. Athanasius moreover calleth him singular and laborious, and
useth also his Testimonies against the Arians.
After Origen, the due order of history requireth next to speak
of Heraclas his usher; a man singularly commended for his knowledge,
not only in philosophy, but also in such faculties as to a Christian
divine do appertain. This great towardness of wit and learning when
Origen perceived in him, he appointed him above all others to be his
usher or under-teacher, to help in his school or university of
Alexandria, in the reign of Antoninus Caracalla, son of Severus. And
after, in the tenth year of Alexander, Origen departing unto Cesarea,
he succeeded in his room to govern the school in Alexandria. Further
also, in the time of Gordianus, after the decease of Demetrius,
bishop of Alexandria, this Heraclas succeeded to be bishop of the
said city; in the which function he ministered the term of sixteen
years. Of this Hereclas writeth Origen himself, that he, although
being priest, yet ceased not to read over and peruse the books of the
Gentiles, to the intent he might the better out of their own books
confute their error, &c.

After Heraclas succeeded Dionysius Alexandrinus in the bishopric of
Alexandria, like as he succeeded him in the school before; which
Dionysius also writeth of the same Heraclas unto Philemon, a priest
of Rome, thus saying, This canon and type I received of blessed
Heraclas, our pope, &c. This Heraclas was no martyr, which died three
years before Decius, about the year of our Lord two hundred and
fifty. After whom succeeded next in the same seat of Alexandria
Dionysius Alexandrinus, who also suffered much under the tyranny of
Decius, as hereafter shall be showed, (Christ willing,) when we come
to the time of Valerian.

Nicephorus in his first book, and others which write of this
persecution under Decius, declare the horribleness thereof to be so
great, and so innumerable martyrs to suffer in the same, that he
saith it is as easy to number the sands of the sea, as to recite the
particular names of them whom this persecution did devour. In the
which persecution the chiefest doers and tormentors under the emperor
appear in the history of Vincentius to be these:
Optimus the under-consul, Secundianus, Verianus, and Marcellianus,
&c. Although therefore it be hard here to infer all and singular
persons in order that died in this persecution, yet such as remain
most notable in stories I will briefly touch by the grace of Him for
whose cause they suffered.

In the former tractation of the first persecution, mention was made
before of Alexander, bishop of Jerusalem, and of his troubles
suffered under Severus, and how afterward by the miracle of God he
was appointed bishop of Jerusalem, where he continued, a very aged
man, above the term of forty years governor of that church, till the
time of the first year of Decius, at what time he being brought from
Jerusalem to Cesarea into the judgment place, after a constant and
evident confession of his faith made before the judge, was committed
unto prison, and there finished his life, as testifieth Dionysius
Alexandrinus in the sixth book of Eusebius. After whom succeeded in
that seat Mezabanes, the thirty and sixth bishop of that city after
James the apostle.

Mention was made also before of Asclepiades, bishop of Antioch, who
succeeded after Serapion, and in the persecution of Severus did
likewise persevere a constant confessor, and, as Vincentius
testifieth in his eleventh book, suffered martyrdom at last under
this Decius. But this computation of Vincentius can in no wise agree
with the truth of time: forsomuch as by probable writers, as Zonaras,
Nicephorus, and others, the said Asclepiades after Serapion entered
the bishop's seat of Antioch, in the year of our Lord two hundred and
fourteen, and sat seven years before the time of Gordianus, after
whom succeeded Philetus, in the year of our Lord two hundred twenty
and one, governing the function twelve years. And after him Zebinus
followed, in the year of our Lord two hundred thirty and two; and so
after him Babylas; which Babylas, if he died in this persecution of
Decius, then could not Asclepiades also suffer in the same time, who
died so long before him, as is declared.

Of this Babylas, bishop of Antioch, Eusebius and Zonaras record, that
under Decius he died in prison, as did Alexander, bishop of
Jerusalem, above rehearsed.

We read in a certain treatise of Chrysostom, entitled Contra
Gentiles, a notable and long history of one Babylas, a martyr, who
about these times was put to death for resisting a certain emperor,
not suffering him to enter into the temple of the Christians after a
cruel murder committed, the story of which murder is this: There was
a certain emperor, who, upon conclusion of peace made with a certain
nation, had received for hostage or surety of peace the son of the
king, being of young and tender age, with conditions upon the same,
that neither he should be molested of them, nor that they should ever
be vexed of him. Upon this, the king's son was delivered, not without
great care and fear of the father, unto the emperor, whom the cruel
emperor, contrary to promise, caused, in short time, without all just
cause, to be slain. This fact so horrible being committed, the
tyrant, with all haste, would enter into the temple of the
Christians, where Babylas, being bishop or minister, withstood him
that he should not approach into that place. The emperor, therewith
not a little incensed, in great rage had him forthwith to be laid in
prison with as many irons as he could bear, and from thence, shortly
after, to be brought forth to death and execution. Babylas going
constantly and boldly to his martyrdom, desired, after his death, to
be buried with his irons and bands, and so he was. The story
proceedeth, moreover, and saith, that in continuance of time, in the
reign of Constantinus, Gallus, then made the overseer of the east
parts, caused his body to be translated into the suburbs of Antioch,
called Daphnes, where was a temple of Apollo, famous with devilish
oracles and answers given by that idol, or by the devil rather, in
that place. In the which temple, after the bringing of the body of
Babylas, the idol ceased to give any more oracles, saying, that for
the body of Babylas he could give no more answers, and complaining
that that place was wont to be consecrated unto him, but now it was
full of dead men's bodies. And thus the oracles there ceased for that
time till the coming of Julianus, who, inquiring out the cause why
the oracles ceased, caused the bones of the holy martyr to be removed
again from thence by the Christians, whom he then called Galileans.
They, coming in a great multitude, both men, maidens, and children.
to the tomb of Babylas, transported his bones according to the
commandment of the emperor, singing by the way as they went the
seventh verse of the ninety-seventh Psalm in words as followeth:
"Confounded be all they that serve graven images," &c. Which coming
to the emperor's ear, set him in great rage against the Christians,
stirring up persecution against them. Albeit Zonaras declareth the
cause something otherwise. saying that so soon as the body of him and
other martyrs were removed away, incontinent the temple of the idol
with the image in the night was consumed with fire; for the which
cause (saith Zonaras) Julian, stirred up with anger, persecuted the
Christians, as shall be showed (Christ willing) in his order and
place hereafter.

And thus much of Babylas, which whether it was the same Babylas,
bishop then of Antioch, or an other of the same name, it appeareth
not by Chrysostom, which neither maketh mention of the emperor's
name, nor of the place where this Babylas was bishop. Again, the
stopping of the emperor out of the church importeth as much as that
emperor to have been a Christian; for otherwise, if he had come in as
a heathen and as a persecutor, it was not then the manner of
Christian bishops violently to withstand the emperors, or to stop
them out. Over and beside the testimony of Eusebius, Zonaras doth
witness contrary in his sixth book, that this Babylas, which was then
bishop of Antioch after Zebinus, was not put to death by the
tormentors, but died in prison; wherefore it is not impossible but
this Babylas and this emperor which Chrysostom speaketh of may be
another Bahylas than that which suffered under Decius. Nicephorus in
his fifth book maketh mention of another Babylas beside this that
suffered under Decius, which was bishop of Nicomedia.

In the forenamed city of Antioch. Vincentius speaketh of forty
virgins martyrs which suffered in this persecution of Decius.

In the country of Phrygia, and in the town of Lampsar, the same
Vincentius also speaketh of one Peter which there was apprehended,
and suffered bitter torments for Christ's name, under Optimus the
proconsul; and in Troada, likewise, of other martyrs that there
suffered, whose names were Andrew, Paul, Nicomachus, and Dionysia, a
virgin.

Also in Babylon (saith he) divers Christian confessors were found of
Decius, which were led away into Spain, there to be executed.

In the country of Cappadocia, at the city of Cesarea, in like manner
of the said author is testified, that Germanus, Theophilus, Cæsarius,
and Vitalis suffered martyrdom for Christ; and in the same book
mention is also made of Polychronius, bishop of Babylon; and in
Pamphylia of Nestor, there bishop, that died martyr.

At Perside, in the town of Cardala, Olympiades and Maximus; in Tyrus
also Anatolia, virgin, and Audax, gave their lives likewise to death
for the testimony of Christ's name.

Eusebius, moreover, in his sixth book reciteth out of the Epistles of
Dionysius Alexandrinus divers that suffered diversly at Alexandria;
the which places of Dionysius, as they be cited in Eusebius, I
thought here good, for the ancientness of the author, to insert and
notify in his own words, and in our language, as he wrote them to
Fabius, bishop of Antioch, as followeth.

This persecution (saith he) began not with the proclamation set forth
by the emperor, but began a whole year before, by the occasion and
means of a wicked person, a soothsayer, and a follower of wicked
arts; who, coming to our city here, stirred up the multitude of the
heathen against us, and incited them to maintain their own old
superstition and gentility of their country; whereby they being set
agog, and obtaining full power to prosecute their wicked purpose, so
thought, and no less declared, all their piety and religion to
consist only in the idolatrous worship of devils, and in our
destruction. And first flying upon a certain priest of ours, named
Metra, they apprehended him, and brought him forth to make him speak
after their wicked blasphemy; which, when he would not do, they laid
upon him with staves and clubs, and with sharp reeds pricked his face
and eyes; and afterward bringing him out into the suburbs, there they
stoned him to death. Then they took a faithful woman, called Quinta,
and brought her to the temple of their idols, to compel her to
worship with them; which when she refused to do, and abhorred their
idols, they bound her feet, and drew her through the whole street of
the city upon the hard stones; and so dashing her against millstones,
and scourging her with whips, brought her to the same place of the
suburbs as they did the other before, where she likewise ended her
life. This done, in a great outrage, and with a multitude running
together, they burst into houses of the religious and godly
Christians, spoiling, sacking, and carrying away all that they could
find of any price. The rest of things, such as were of less value and
of wood, they brought into the open market and set them on fire. In
the mean time, the brethren voided aside, and withdrew themselves,
taking patiently and no less joyfully the spoiling of their goods,
than did they of whom St. Paul doth testify; neither do I know any of
them all (only excepted) apprehended of them which, revolting from
his profession, denied the Lord yet to this present day.

Amongst the rest that there were taken, there was a certain virgin
well stricken in years, named Apollinia, whom they brought forth, and
dashing all her teeth out of her jaws, made a great fire before the
city, threatening to cast her into the same, unless she would
blaspheme with them and deny Christ; whereat she staying a little
with herself, as one that would take a pause, suddenly leaped into
the midst of the fire, and there was burned.

There was also one Serapion, whom they took in his own house; and
after they had assailed him with sundry kinds of torments, and had
broken almost all the joints of his body, they cast him down from an
upper loft, and so did he complete his martyrdom. Thus was there no
way, neither privy nor public, nor corner, nor alley, left for us,
neither by day nor by night, to escape; all the people making an
outcry against us, that unless we uttered words of blasphemy, we
should be drawn to the fire and burned. And this outrageous tumult
endured a certain space; but at length, as the Lord would, the
miserable wretches fell at dissension among themselves, which turned
the cruelty they exercised against us upon their own heads. And so
had we a little breathing time for a season, while the fury of the
heathen people by this occasion assuaged.

Shortly then after this word was brought unto us that the state of
the empire, which before was something favourable to us, was altered
and changed against us, putting us in great fear. And conse quently
upon the same followed the edict of the emperor so terrible and
cruel, that, according to the forewarning of the Lord, the elect (if
it had been possible) might have been thereby subverted. Upon that
edict such fear came over us all, that many there were, especially of
the richer sort, of whom some for fear came running, some were led by
the occasion of time, some were drawn by their neighbours being cited
by name, to those impure and idolatrous sacrifices. Other some came
trembling and shaking, as men not which should do sacrifice, but
which should be sacrificed themselves, the multitude laughing them to
scorn. Some again came boldly to the altars, declaring themselves
never to have been of that profession, of whom it is said that hardly
they shall be saved. Of the residue, some followed one part, some
another; some ran away, some were taken; of whom certain continued to
bands and torments constant; others again, after long imprisonment,
before they should come before the judge, renounced their faith. Some
also, after they suffered torments, yet after revolted. But others
being as strong as blessed, and valiant pillars of the Lord's,
fortified with constancy agreeing to their faith, were made faithful
martyrs of the kingdom of God.

Of whom the first was Julianus, a man diseased with the gout, and not
able to go, being carried of two men, of whom the one quickly denied;
the other, Cronion, surnamed Eunus, with the foresaid Julianus the
old man, confessing the Lord with a perfect faith, were laid upon
camels, and there scourged, at length cast into the fire, and with
great constancy were so consumed.

As these aforesaid were going to their martyrdom, there was a certain
soldier, who in their defence took part against them that railed upon
them. For the which cause the people crying out against him, he also
was apprehended; and being constant in his profession, was forthwith
beheaded.

Likewise one Macar, a man born in Libya, being admonished and
exhorted of the judge to deny his faith, and not agreeing to his
persuasions, was burned alive.

After these suffered Epimachus, and one Alexander, who being long
detained in prison and in bands, after innumerable pains and torments
with razors and scourges, were also cast into the burning fire, with
four other women with them, which all there ended their martyrdom.

Also Ammonarion, a holy virgin, whom the cruel judge had long and
bitterly tormented, for that she promising the judge before, that for
no punishment she would yield to his request, and constantly
performing the same, suffered likewise martyrdom with two other
women, of whom there was an aged matron, named Mercuria; the other
was called Dionysia, being a mother of many fair children, whom yet
notwithstanding she loved not above the Lord. These, after they could
not be overcome by any torments of the cruel judge, but he, rather
ashamed and confounded to be overcome of silly women, at length being
past feeling of all torments, were slain with the sword; first
Ammonarion, like a valiant captain, suffering before them.

Heron, Ater, and Isidorus, Egyptians, and with them Dioscorus, also a
child of fifteen years, were crowned with the same crown of
martyrdom. And first the judge began with the child, thinking him
more easy to be won with words to entice him, than with torments to
constrain him; but he persisted immovable, giving neither place to
persuasions nor punishments. The rest, after he had grievously
tormented them, being constant in their profession, he committed to
the fire. The judge greatly marvelling at Dioscorus, for his wise
answers and grave constancy, dismissed him, sparing (as he said) his
age to a longer respite; which Dioscorus is yet also with us at this
present, waiting for a long trial.

Nemesion, being also an Egyptian, first was accused for a companion
of thieves; but being purged thereof before the centurion, was then
accused of Christianity, and for that cause being in bands, was
brought to the president; who most unrighteously tormenting and
scourging him double to all other thieves and felons, at length among
the thieves burned him to death, making him a blessed martyr.

There were standing before the tribunal seat certain of the warriors
or knights, whose names were Ammon, Zenon, Ptolomeus, Jngenuus, and
with them a certain aged man, called Theophilus, who standing by at
what time a certain Christian man was before the judge examined, and
there seeing him for fear ready to decline and fall away, did burst 
almost for sorrow within themselves, making signs to him with their
hands, and all gestures of their body, to be constant. This being
noted of all the standers-by, they were ready to lay hold upon them;
but they preventing the matter, pressed up of their own accord before
to the bench of the judge, professing themselves to be Christians.
Insomuch that both the president with the benchers were all
astonished, the Christians which were judged more imboldened to
suffer, and the judges thereby terrified. This done, they departed
away from the place, glad and rejoicing for the testimony that they
had given of their faith. Many other besides were in other cities and
towns rent and torn asunder by the heathen, among whom one I will
speak of, for cause worthy of memory.

Ischirion, one that was in service with a certain nobleman, was
commanded of his master to make sacrifice, who for not obeying was
therefore rebuked; after persisting in the same, was grievously
threatened with sharp and menacing words. At last his master, when he
could not prevail against him, taking a stake or pike in his hands,
ran him through in the body and slew him.

What shall I speak of the multitude of them which, wandering in
deserts and mountains, were consumed with hunger, thirst, cold,
sickness, thieves, or wild beasts, of whose blessed victory they
which be alive are yet witnesses; in the number of whom one I will
speak of, among divers others, named Cheremon, bishop of the city
called Nilus, an aged man: he with his wife, flying to the mountain
of Arabia, never returned again, nor ever could be seen after; and
though they were sought for diligently by their brethren, yet neither
they nor their bodies were found. Many others there were which,
flying to these mountains of Arabia, were taken of the barbarous
Arabians; of whom some with much money could scarce be ransomed, some
were never heard of yet to this present day. Thus much out of the
Epistles of Dionysius in Eusebius.

Moreover, the foresaid Dionysius in another place writing to Germanus
of his own dangers, and of others, sustained in this persecution, and
before this persecution of Decius, thus inferreth as followeth: I,
(saith he,) behold, before the sight of God, I lie not, and he
knoweth I lie not, how that I having no regard of mine own life, and
not without the motion of God, did fly and avoid the danger of this
persecution. Yea, and also before that this persecution of Decius did
rage against us, Sabinus the same hour sent a farmer to seek me, at
what time I remaining at home waited three days for his coming. But
he searching narrowly for me by all ways, fields, floods, and
corners, where he thought I might best have hid myself or have passed
by, was stricken with such blindness, that he could not find my
house, thinking with himself nothing less than that I would abide at
home in such and so dangerous persecution. Thus these three days
being past, upon the fourth day, the Lord God so willing and
commanding me to fly, and also marvellously opening to me the way, I,
with my children, and many other brethren, went out together. And
this not to come of myself, but to be the work of God's providence,
the sequel of those things declared, wherein afterward I was not
unprofitable peradventure to some, &c.

Again, in another place, shortly after, the aforesaid Dionysius,
proceeding in the narration of himself, thus inferreth: Then I coming
to Jerusalem with them which were with me, was brought by soldiers
unto Taposixis, whereas Timotheus (by the providence of God) neither
was present, nor yet taken; who then returning home, found his house
desert, and officers watching about the same, and us within taken,
&c. And again, shortly after, it followeth: And to see (saith he) the
admirable disposing of God's works, as Timotheous was thus flying
with much haste and great fear, a certain man, as happened, a dweller
near by, met him by the way, and asked whither he went so hastily; to
whom Timotheus answering, declared all the matter simply as it was.
Which done, the man proceedeth on his journey, whither he was
purposed to go, which was to a marriage; the manner of which
marriages then was to sit up all the night long feasting and
drinking. Thus, as he was come, sitting with them at the feast, he
telleth his companions what was done, and what he heard by the way.
This was no sooner told, but all they forth with upon a head, as
stricken with a sudden fury, rushing out together, made toward us as
fast as they could, with such crying and noise as might seem very
terrible. At the first hearing whereof, the soldiers that had us in
keeping being afraid, ran away, by reason whereof we were left alone,
and found as we were lying upon forms and benches, I then (the Lord
knoweth) thinking with myself that they had been thieves, which came
to spoil and rob, being in my couch, lay still in my shirt only as I
was, the rest of my garments lying by me I offered to them: they then
willed me in all haste to rise and get away, whereby I then,
perceiving the cause of their coming, cried unto them, desiring that
they would suffer us so to do; and if they would do any benefit for
me, forsomuch as I could not escape the hands of them which would
pursue me and carry me away, I prayed them that they would prevent
them, and cut off my head before. And as I was crying thus unto them,
casting myself grovelling upon the pavement, as my companions can
testify, who were partakers of all these things, they burst forth
violently, taking me by the hands and feet, and carried me out of the
doors, and led me away. There followed me Gaius, Faustus, Petrus,
Paulus, (who were witnesses of all the same,) which brought me also
out of the city, and so setting me upon a bare ass, conveyed me away.
Thus much writeth Dionysius of himself, the example of whose epistle
is cited in the ecclesiastical story of Eusebius.

Nicephorus, in his first book, cap. 27, maketh
mention of one named Christophorus, which also suffered in this
persecution of Decius. Of which Christophorus, whether the fable
riseth of that mighty giant set up in churches, wading through the
seas with Christ on his shoulder, and a tree in his hand for a
walking staff, &c., it is uncertain. Georgius Wicelius allegeth out
of Ruggerus Fuldens., and mentioneth of one Christophorus, born of
the nation of Canaanites, which suffered under Decius, being, as he
saith, of twelve cubits high. But the rest of the history painted in
churches the said Wicelius derideth as fables of Centaurus, or other
poetical fictions.

Bergomensis, in his eighth book, maketh relation of divers martyred
under Decius; as Meniatus, which suffered at Florence; of Agatha, a
holy virgin of Sicily, who is said to suffer divers and bitter
torments under Quintilianus, the proconsul, with prisonment, with
beatings, with famine, with racking, rolled also upon sharp shells
and hot coals, having, moreover, her breasts cut from her body, as
Bergomensis and the martyrology of Ado record. In the which authors,
as I deny not but that the rest of the story may be true, so again,
concerning the miracles of the aged man appearing to her, and of the
young man clothed in a silken vesture, with a hundred young men after
him, and of the marble table with the inscription, I doubt.
(Illustration: Christians Wandering in the Wilderness )

Hard it is to recite all that suffered in this persecution, whenas
whole multitudes went in to wildernesses and mountains, wandering
without succour or comfort; some starved with hunger and cold, some
with sickness consumed, some devoured of beasts, some with barbarous
thieves taken and carried away. Vincentius, in his eleventh book,
speaking of Asclepiades, writeth also of forty virgins and martyrs
which, by sundry kinds of torments, were put to death about the same
time, in the persecution of this tyrant.

Likewise in the said Vincentius mention is made of Triphon, a man of
great holiness, and constant in his suffering, who, being brought to
the city of Nice, before the president Aquilus, for his constant
confession of Christ's name, was afflicted with divers and grievous
torments, and at length with the sword put to death.

At what time Decius had erected a temple in the midst of the city of
Ephesus, compelling all that were in the city there to sacrifice to
the idols, seven Christians were found, whose names were Maximianus,
Malchus, Martianus, Dionysius, Joannes, Serapion, and Constantinus,
who, refusing the idolatrous worship, were accused for the same unto
the emperor to be Christians. Which, when they constantly professed
and did not deny, notwithstanding, because they were soldiers,
retaining to the emperor's service, respite was given them for a
certain space to deliberate with themselves, till the return again of
the emperor, which then was going to war. In the mean space, the
emperor being departed, they taking counsel together, went and hid
themselves in secret caves of the Mount Celius. The emperor returning
again, after great inquisition made for them, hearing where they
were, caused the mouth of the place where they were to be closed up
with heaps of stones, that they, not able to get out, should be
famished within. And thus were those good men martyred. The story (if
it be true) goeth further, that they, between fear and sorrow, fell
asleep, in which sleep they continued the space of certain ages
after, till the time of Theodosius the emperor, before they did
awake, as reporteth Vincentius, Nicephorus, and partly also Henricus
Erfordiens. But of their awaking, that I refer to them that list to
believe it. Certain it is that at the last day they shall awake
indeed without any fable.

Hieronymus, in the Life of Paulus the hermit, reciteth a story of a
certain soldier, whom when the pretor could not otherwise with
torments remove from his Christianity, he devised another way, which
was this: he commanded the soldier to be laid upon a soft bed in a
pleasant garden among the flourishing lilies and red roses; which
done, all others being removed away, and himself there left alone, a
beautiful harlot came to him, who embraced him, and with all other
incitements of a harlot laboured to provoke him to her naughtiness.
But the godly soldier fearing God more than obeying flesh, bit off
his own tongue with his teeth, and spit it in the face of the harlot,
as she was kissing him; and so got he the victory, by the constant
grace of the Lord assisting him.

Another like example of singular chastity is written of the virgin
Theodora, and another soldier. At Antioch, this Theodora refusing to
do sacrifice to the idols, was condemned by the judge to the stews,
and notwithstanding, by the singular providence of God, was well
delivered. For as there was a great company of wanton young men ready
at the door to press into the house where she was, one of the
brethren named Didymus, (as Ado saith,) moved with faith and motion
of God, putting on a soldier's habit, made himself one of the first
that came in, who rounding her in the ear told her the cause and
purpose of his coming, being a Christian as she was: his counsel was,
that she should put on the soldier's habit, and so slip away; and he
putting on her garments would there remain to abide their force, and
so did, whereby the virgin escaped unknown. Didymus, left unto the
rage and wondering of the people, being a man instead of a woman, was 
presented unto the president, unto whom without delay he uttered all
the whole matter as it was done, professing him, so as he was, to be
a Christian, and thereupon was condemned to suffer. Theodora,
understanding thereof, and thinking to excuse him by accusing
herself, offered herself as the party guilty unto the judge, claiming
and requiring the condemnation to light upon her, the other, as
innocent, to be discharged. But the cruel judge, (crueller than
Dionysius, which spared Damon and Pithias,) neither considering the
virtue of the persons, nor the innocency of the cause, unjustly and
inhumanly proceeded in execution against them both, who, first having
their heads cut off, after were cast into the fire. Although what
time or in what persecution these did suffer, in the authors of this
narration it doth not appear.

Agathon, a man of arms in the city of Alexandria, for rebuking
certain lewd persons scornfully deriding the dead bodies of the
Christians, was cried out of and railed on of the people, and
afterward, accused to the judge, was condemned to lose his head.

The said Erfordiensis also maketh mention of Paulus, Andreas, whom
the proconsul of Troada gave to the people; who being scourged, and
after drawn out of the city, were trodden to death with the feet of
the people.

Among others that suffered under this wicked Decius, Bergomensis also
maketh mention of one Justinus, a priest of Rome, and of another
Nicostratus, a deacon. To these Vincentius also addeth Portius, a
priest of Rome, whom he reporteth to be the converter of Philip the
emperor afore mentioned.

Of Abdon and Sennas we read also in the foresaid Bergomensis and
Vincentius, two noble men, who, because they had buried the
Christians, whom Decius had brought from Babylon to Corduba, and
there put them to death, were therefore accused to Decius, and
brought to Rome; where they, being commanded to sacrifice to dead
idols, would not obey, and for the same were given to the wild beasts
to be devoured; but when the wild beasts, more gentle than the men,
would not touch them, they were at length with the sword beheaded.
Albeit to me it seemeth not impossible nor unlike this Abdon and
Sennas to be the same whom in other stories we find, and before have
mentioned, to be Ammon and Zenon.

One Secundianus was accused to Valerian, a captain of Decius, to be a
Christian, which profession, when he stoutly did maintain, he was
commanded to prison. By the way, as the soldiers were leading him to
the gaol, Verianus and Marcellianus seeing the matter cried to the
soldiers, asking them whither they drew the innocent. At the which
word, when they also confessed themselves to be Christians, they were
likewise apprehended, and brought to a city named Centumcellas; where
being willed to sacrifice, they did spit upon the idols, and so after
sentence and judgment given, first they were beaten with wasters or
truncheons, after that hanged and tormented upon the gibbet, having
fire set to their sides. Vincentius addeth, moreover, that some of
the tormentors falling suddenly dead, other some being taken with
wicked spirits, the martyrs with the sword at length were beheaded.

To prosecute in length of history the lives and sufferings of all
them which in this terrible persecution were martyred, it were too
long, and almost infinite; briefly therefore to rehearse the names of
such as we find alleged out of a certain brief treatise of Bede,
entitled De Temporibus, cited by Henricus de Erford., it shall be at
this time sufficient. Under Decius suffered Hippolitus and Concordia,
Hiereneus and Abundus, Victoria, a virgin, being noble personages of
Antioch; Bellias, bishop of the city of Apollonia; Leacus, Tirsus,
and Gallinetus, Nazanzo, Triphon, in the city of Egypt called Tamas;
Phileas, bishop, Philocornus, with many other in Perside;
Philcronius, bishop of Babylon, Thesiphon, bishop of Parnphylia,
Nestor, bishop in Corduba, Parmenius, priest, with divers more. In
the province called Colonia, Circensis, Marianus, and Jacobus. In
Africa, Nemesianus, Felix, Rogatianus, priest, Felicissitnus. At
Rome, Jovinus, Basileus, also Ruffina and Secunda, vir gins,
Tertullianus, Valerianus, Nemesius, Sem pronianus, and Olympius. In
Spain, Teragon. At Verona, Zeno, bishop at Cesarea, Marinus and
Archemius. In the town of Milan, Privatus, bishop, Theodorus,
surnamed Gregorius, bishop of Pontus.

Vincentius, in his eleventh book, maketh mention, citing of certain
children suffering martyrdom under the same persecution, in a city of
Tuscia, called Aretium, whose names I find not, except they be
Pergentius and Laurentius, mentioned in Equiliqus.

Now that I have recorded sufficiently of them who under this tempest
of Decius constantly gave their lives to martyrdom for the testimony
of Christ, it remaineth that a few words also be spoken of such as
for fear or frailty in this persecution did shrink and slide from the
truth of their confession. In the number of whom first cometh in the
remembrance of Serapion an aged old man. Of whom writeth Dionysius
Alexandrinus unto Fabius, declaring that this Serapion was an old
man, which lived amongst them a sincere and upright life of long
time, but at length fell. This Serapion oft and many times desired to
be received again; but no man listened to him, for he had sacrificed
before. After this, not long after, he fell into sickness, where he
remained three days dumb and benumbed of all senses. The fourth day
following, beginning a little to recover, he called to him his
sister's son, and said, How long, how long (my son) do ye hold me
here? make haste, I pray you, that I were absolved. Call hither some
of the ministers to me; and so, saying no more, held his peace, as
dumb and speechless. The boy ran (it was then night) unto the
minister, who, at the same time being sick, could not come with the
messenger; but said, for so much as he willed heretofore, (as he
said,) that such as lay a dying, if they covet to be received and
reconciled, and especially if they required it earnestly, should be
admitted, whereby with the better hope and confidence they may depart
hence; therefore he gave to the boy a little of the eucharist,
willing him to crumble it into the cup, and so to drop it into the
mouth of the old man. With this the boy returned, bringing with him
the holy eucharist. As he was now near at hand, before he had entered
in, Serapion, the old man, speaking again, Comest thou, (said he,) my
son? The priest, quoth the messenger, is sick and cannot come; but do
as he willeth you, and let me go. And the boy immixed the eucharist,
and dropped it in softly into the mouth of the old man, who after he
had tasted a little immediately gave up the ghost, &c.

In the city of Troad, as the proconsul was grievously tormenting one
Nicomachus, he cried out that he was no Christian, and so was let
down again. And after, when he had sacrificed, he was taken speedily
with a wicked spirit, and so thrown down upon the ground, where he,
biting off his tongue with his teeth, so departed.

Dionysius in his epistles also writing to Fabius, and lamenting the
great terror of this persecution, declareth how that many worthy and 
notable Christians, for fear and horror of the great tyranny thereof,
did show themselves feeble and weak men. Of whom some for dread, some
of their own accord, others after great torments suffered, yet after
revolted from the constancy of their profession. Also St. Cyprian, in
his treatise De Lapsis, reciteth with great sorrow, and testifieth
how that a great number at the first threatening of the adversary,
neither being compelled nor thrown down with any violence of the
enemy, but of their voluntary weakness fell down themselves. Neither
(saith he) tarrying while the judge should put incense in their
hands, but before any stroke stricken in the field, turned their
backs and played the cowards; not only coming to their sacrifices,
but preventing the same, and pretending to come without compulsion,
bringing moreover their infants and children either put into their
hands, or taking them with them of their own accord, and exhorting
moreover others to do the like after their example.

Of this weakness and falling the said author showeth two causes;
either love of their goods and patrimony, or fear of torments; and
addeth, moreover, examples of the punishments of them which revolted,
affirming that many of them were taken and vexed with wicked spirits;
and that one man among other, after his voluntary denial, was
suddenly struck dumb. Again, another, after his abjuration, as he
should communicate with others, instead of bread received ashes in
his hand. Item, a certain maiden being taken and vexed with a spirit,
did tear her own tongue with her teeth, and, tormented with pain in
her belly and inward parts, so deceased.

Amongst others of this sort St. Cyprian maketh also mention of one
Guaristus, a bishop in Africa, who leaving his charge, and making
shipwreck of his faith, went wandering about in other countries,
forsaking his own flock. In like manner, he maketh also mention of
Nicostratus, a deacon, who forsaking his deaconship, and taking the
goods of the church with him, fled away into other countries, &c,
Albeit Bergomensis affirmeth that this Nicostratus the deacon
afterward died a martyr. Thus then, although some did relent, yet a
very great number (saith he) there was whom neither fear could
remove, nor pain could overthrow, to cause them to betray their
confession; but they stood like glorious martyrs unto the end.

The same Cyprian also, in another book, On Mortality, reciteth a
notable story of one of his own colleagues and fellow priests, who
being oppressed with weakness, and greatly afraid with death drawing
at hand, desired leave to depart, and to be discharged. As he was
thus entreating, and almost now dying, there appeared by him a young
man, of an honourable and reverend majesty, of a tall stature, and
comely behaviour, so bright and clear to behold, that scarce man's
carnal eyes were able so to do, which was now ready to depart this
world. To whom this young man, speaking with a certain indignation of
mind and voice, thus said, To suffer ye dare not, to go out ye will
not; what would ye have me to do unto you?

Upon the occasion of these and such others, which were a great
number, that fell and did renounce, as is aforesaid, in this
persecution of Decius, rose up first the quarrel and heresy of
Novatus, who in these days made a great disturbance in the church,
holding this opinion, that they which once renounced the faith, and,
for fear of torments, had offered incense to the idols, although they
repented therefore, yet could not afterward be reconciled, nor
admitted to the church of Christ. This Novatus being first priest
under Cyprian, at Carthage, afterward, by stirring up discord and
factions, began to disturb the bishopric of Cyprian, to appoint there
a deacon called Felicissimus, against the bishop's mind or knowledge;
also to allure and separate certain of the brethren from the bishop.
After this, the said Novatus going to Rome, kept there the like stir
with Cornelius; setting himself up as bishop of Rome against
Cornelius, which was the lawful bishop of Rome before. The which to
bring to pass he used this practice. First he had allured to him, to
be his adherents, three or four good men and holy confessors, which
had suffered before great torments for their confession, whose names,
were Maximus, Urbanus, Sidonius, and Celerinus. After this he enticed
three simple bishops about the coasts of Italy to repair to Rome,
under pretence to make an end of certain controversies then in hand.
This done, he caused the same, whether by making them drunk, or by
other crafty counsel, to lay their hands upon him, and to make him
bishop; and so they did. Wherefore the one of those three bishops
hardly was received to the communion, by the great intercession of
his people; the other two by discipline of the church were displaced
from their bishoprics, and others possessed with their rooms. Thus
then were there two bishops together in one church of Rome, Novatus
and Cornelius, which was unseemly, and contrary to the discipline of
the church. And hereupon riseth the true cause and meaning of St.
Cyprian writing in his Epistles so much of one bishop, and of the
unity to be kept in ecclesiastical regiment. And in like sort writeth
also Cornelius himself of one bishop, saying he knew not that there
ought to be one bishop in a catholic church, &c. This by the way, not
out of the way, I trust, I have touched briefly, to detect or refute
the cavilling wresting of the papists, which falsely apply these
places of Cyprian and Cornelius to maintain the pope's supreme
mastership alone, over the whole universal church of Christ in all
places, when their meaning is otherwise, how that every one catholic
church or diocess ought to have one bishop over it, not that the
whole world ought to be subject to the dominion of him only that is
bishop of Rome. Now to the story again. Novatus being thus bishop,
took not a little upon him; going about by all means to defeat
Cornelius, and to allure the people from him. Insomuch that (as in
the foresaid book of Eusebius appeareth) when Novatus came to the
distributing of the offerings, and should give every man his part, he
compelled the simple persons every man to swear, before they should
receive of the benediction, and of the collects or oblations, holding
both their hands in his, and holding them so long, speaking these
words unto them, "Swear to me, by the body and blood of our Lord
Jesus Christ, that thou wilt not leave me and go to Cornelius," till
that they, swearing unto him, instead of Amen, (to be said at the
receiving of the bread,) should answer, I will not return to
Cornelius, &c. Where note by the way, that the Latin book of
Christoferson's translation, in this place, craftily leaveth out the
name of bread. This story being written in Eusebius, also contained
in Nicephorus, although
not in the same order of words, yet in effect drawn out of him, doth
declare, in plain words, in both the authors, (whoso will mark the
same,) that the sacrament of the body of Christ is termed with the
plain name of bread, after the consecration.

It followeth more in the story, that Maximus, Urbanus, Sidonius, and
Celerinus, before mentioned, perceiving at length the crafty
dissimulation and arrogancy of Novatus, left him, and with great
repentance returned again to the church, and were reconciled to
Cornelius, as they themselves, writing to Cyprian, and Cyprian
likewise writing to them an epistle gratulatory, doth declare; and
Cornelius also in his epistle to Fabius witnesseth the same. In this
epistle the said Cornelius, moreover, writeth of one Moses, a worthy
martyr, which once being also a follower of Novatus, after perceiving 
his wickedness, forsook him, and did excommunicate him. Of him
Cyprian also maketh mention, and calleth him a blessed confessor.
Damasus in his pontifical saith that he was apprehended with Maximus
and Nicostratus above mentioned, and was put with them in prison,
where he ended his life. And thus much of Novatus, against whom (as
Eusebius testifieth) a synod was holden at Rome of threescore sundry
bishops in the time of Cornelius, and under the reign of Decius;
whereby it may be supposed that the heat of the persecution at that
time was somewhat calmed.

After Fabianus (or, as Zonaras calleth him, Flavianus) next succeeded
into the bishopric of Rome, Cornelius, whom Cyprian noteth to be a
worthy bishop, and for his great virtue and maidenly continency much
commendable; chosen to that room not so much by his own consent, as
by the full agreement, both of the clergymen, and also of the people.
Hierom addeth also that he was a man of great eloquence; whereby it
may appear those two epistles decretal, which go in his name, not to
be his, both for the rudeness of the barbarous and gross style, and
also for the matter therein contained, nothing tasting of that time,
nor of that age, nor doings then of the church. Whereof in the first
he writeth to all ministers and brethren of the church, concerning
the lifting up of the bodies and bones of Peter and Paul, and
transposed to Vaticanum, at the instance of a certain devout woman
named Lucina; having no great argument or cause to write thereof unto
the churches, but only that he in that letter doth desire them to
pray unto the Lord, that through the intercession of those
apostolical saints their sins might be forgiven them, &c. In the
second epistle written to Ruffus, a bishop of the east church, he
decreeth and ordaineth that no oath ought to be required or exacted
of any head or chief bishop, for any cause, or by any power. Also
that no cause of priests or ministers ought to be handled in any
strange or foreign court without his precinct, except only in the
court of Rome by appellation; whereby who seeth not the train of our
later bishops, going about craftily to advance the dignity pf the
court of Rome, under and by the pretensded title of Cornelius, and of
ancient bishops? If Cornelius did write any epistles to any indeed in
those turbulent times of persecution, no doubt but some signification
thereof he would have touched in the said his letters, either in
ministering consolation to his brethren, or in requiring consolation
and prayers of others. Neither is there any doubt but he would have
given some touch also of the matter of Novatus, with whom he had so
much to do, as indeed he did; for so we find it recorded both in
Eusebius and in Hierom, that he wrote unto Fabius, bishop of Antioch,
of the decreements of the Council of Rome, and another letter of the
manner of the Council, the third also of the cause of Novatus, and
again of the repentance of such as fell, whereof there is no word
touched at all in these foresaid epistles decretal.

What trouble this Cornelius had with Novatus sufficiently is before
signified. In this persecution of Decius, he demeaned himself very
constantly and faithfully, which sustained great conflicts with the
adversaries, as St. Cyprian giveth witness. Hierom testifieth that he
remained bishop after the death of Decius to the time of Gallus. But
Damasus and Sabellicus, his followers, affirm that he was both exiled
and also martyred under the tyrannous reign of Decius. Of whom
Sabellicus writeth this story, taken out (as it seemeth) of Damasus,
and saith, That Cornelius, by the commandment of Decius, was banished
to a town called Centumeellas, bordering on Hetruria, from whence he
sent his letters to Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, and Cyprian again to
him. This coming to the ears of Decius the emperor, he sendeth for
Cornelius, asking him how he durst be so bold to show such
stubbornness, that he, neither caring for the gods, nor fearing the
displeasure of his prince, durst against the commonwealth give and
receive letters from others? To whom Cornelius answering again, thus
purged himself, declaring to the emperor that letters indeed he had
written, and received again, concerning the praises and honouring of
Christ, and the salvation of souls, but nothing as touching any
matter of the commonwealth. And it followeth in the story, Then
Decius, moved with anger, commanded him to be beaten with plumbats,
(which, as saith Sabellicus, is a kind of scourging,) and so to be
brought to the temple of Mars, either there to do sacrifice, or to
suffer the extremity. But he, rather willing to die than to commit
such iniquity, prepared himself to martyrdom, being sure that he 
should die. And so commending the charge of the church unto Stephanus
his archdeacon, was brought to the way of Appius, where he ended his
life in faithful martyrdom. Eusebius in one place saith that he sat
two years, in another place he saith that he sat three years, and so
doth Marianus Scotus, following also the diversity of the said
Eusebius. Damasus giveth him only two years.

In this foresaid persecution of Decius, it seemeth by some writers
also that Cyprian was banished; but I suppose rather his banishment
to be referred to the reign of Gallus, next emperor after Decius,
whereof more shall be said (Christ willing) in his place hereafter.
In the mean time, the said Cyprian in his second book maketh mention
of two that suffered, either in the time of this Decius, or much
about the same time. Of whom one was Aurelius, a worthy and valiant
young man, who was twice in torments for his confession, which he
never denied, but manfully and boldly withstood the adversary till he
was banished, and also after; and therefore was commended of Cyprian
to certain brethren to have him for their lecturer, as in the
forenamed epistle of Cyprian appeareth. The other was named
Mappalicus, who in the day before he suffered, declaring to the
proconsul in the midst of his torments, and saying, To-morrow you
shall see the running for a wager, &c., was brought forth, according
as he forespoke, to martyrdom, and there with no less constancy than
patience did suffer.

And thus much of the tyranny of this wicked Decius against God's
saints. Now to touch also the power of God's vengeance and punishment
against him. Like as we see commonly a tempest that is vehement not
long to continue; so it happened with this tyrannical tormentor, who
reigning but two years, as saith Eusebius, or three at most, as
writeth Orosius, among the middle of the barbarians, with whom he did
war, was there slain with his son. Like as he had slain Philippus and
his son, his predecessors, before, so was he with his son slain by
the righteous judgment of God himself. Eusebius affirmeth that he,
warring against the Gotthians, and being by them overcome, lest he
should fall into their hands, ran into a whirlpit, where he was
drowned, and his body never found after.

Neither did the just hand of God plague the emperor only, but also
revenged as well the heathen Gentiles and persecutors of his word
throughout all provinces and dominions of the Roman monarchy; amongst
whom the Lord immediately after the death of Decius, sent such a
plague and pestilence, lasting for the space of ten years together,
that horrible it is to hear, and almost incredible to believe. Of
this plague or pestilence testifieth Dionysius to Hierax, a bishop in
Egypt, where he declareth the mortality of this plague to be so great
in Alexandria, where he was bishop, that there was no house in the
whole city free. And although the greatness of the plague touched
also the Christians somewhat, yet it scourged the heathen idolaters
much more; beside that the order of their behaviour in the one and in
the other was much diverse. For, as the foresaid Dionysius doth
record, the Christians, through brotherly love and piety, did not
refuse one to visit and comfort another, and to minister to him what
need required, notwithstanding it was to them great danger; for
divers there were who, in closing up their eyes, in washing their
bodies, and interring them in the ground, were next themselves which
followed them to their graves. Yet all this stayed not them from
doing their duty, and showing mercy one to another; whereas the
Gentiles, contrarily, being extremely visited by the hand of God,
felt the plague, but considered not the striker, neither yet
considered they their neighbour; but every man shifting for himself
neither cared one for another; but such as were infected, some they
would cast out of the doors half dead to be devoured of dogs and wild
beasts, some they let die within their houses without all succour,
some they suffered to lie unburied, for that no man durst come near
them: and yet notwithstanding, for all their voiding and shifting,
the pestilence followed them whithersoever they went, and miserably
consumed them. Insomuch that Dionysius, bishop the same time of
Alexandria, thus reporteth of his own city: that such a mortality was
then among them, that the said city of Alexandria had not in number
so many of all together, both old and young, as it was wont to
contain before of the old men only from the age of threescore to
seventy, and as were found in time past commonly almost in that city.
Pomponius Letus and other Latin writers also making mention of the
said pestilence, declare how the beginning thereof first came (as
they think) out of ethiope, and from the hot countries, and so
invading and wasting first the south parts, from thence spread into
the east; and so further running and increasing into all other
quarters of the world, especially wheresoever the edicts of the
emperor went against the Christians, it followed after and consumed
the most part of the inhabitants, whereby many places became desolate
and void of all concourse, and so continued the term of ten years
together.

This pestiferous mortality (by the occasion whereof Cyprian took the
ground to write his book On Mortality) began, as is said, immediately
after the death of Decius the persecutor, in the beginning of the
reign of Vibias Gallus, and Volusianus his son, who succeeded through
treason next unto Decius, about the year of our Lord two hundred
fifty and one, and continued their reign but two years.

This Gallus, although the first beginning of his reign was something
quiet, yet shortly after following the steps of Decius, by whom
rather he should have taken better heed, set forth edicts in like
manner for the persecution of Christians, albeit in this edict we
find no number of martyrs to have suffered, but only all this
persecution to rest only in the exilement of bishops or guides of the
flock. Of other sufferings or executions we do not read, for the
terrible pestilence following immediately, kept the barbarous heathen
otherwise occupied. Unto this time of Gallus, rather than to the time
of Decius, I refer the banishment of Cyprian, who was then bishop of
Carthage; of the which banishment he himself testifieth in divers of
his epistles, declaring the cause thereof to rise upon a commotion or
sedition among the people, out of the which he withdrew himself, lest
the sedition should grow greater; notwithstanding the said Cyprian,
though being absent, yet had no less care of his flock, and of the
whole church, than if he had been present with them, and therefore
never ceased in his epistles continually to exhort and call upon them
to be constant in their profession, and patient in their afflictions.
Amongst divers others whom he doth comfort in his banishment,
although he was in that case to be comforted himself, writing to
certain that were condemned to mining for metals, whose names were
Nemesianus, Felix, Lucius, with other bishops, priests, and deacons,
he declareth unto them, "How it is no shame, but a glory, not to be
feared, but to be rejoiced at, to suffer banishment or other pains
for Christ; and confirming them in the same, or rather commending
them, signifieth how worthily they do show themselves to be as
valiant captains of virtue, provoking both by the confessions of
their mouth, and by the suffering of their bodies, the hearts of the
brethren to Christian martyrdom, whose example was and is a great
confirmation to many, both maids and children, to follow the like. As
for punishment and suffering, it is (saith he) a thing not execrable
to a Christian; for a Christian man's breast, whose hope doth wholly
consist in the tree, dreadeth neither bat nor club. Wounds and scars
of the body be ornaments to a Christian man, such as bring no shame
nor dishonesty to the party, but rather preferreth and freeth him
with the Lord. And although in the mines where the metals be digged
there be no beds for Christian men's bodies to take their rest, yet
they have their rest in Christ; and though their weary bones lie upon
the cold ground, yet it is no pain to lie with Christ. Their feet
have been fettered with bands and chains, but happily he is bound of
man whom the Lord Christ doth loose: happily doth he lie tied in the
stocks, whose feet thereby are made swifter to run to heaven. Neither
can any man tie a Christian so fast, but he runneth so much the
faster for his garland of life. They have no garments to save them
from cold, but he that putteth on Christ is sufficiently coated. Doth
bread lack to their hungry bodies? But man liveth not only by bread,
but by every word proceeding from the mouth of God. Your deformity
(saith he) shall be turned to honour, your mourning to joy, your pain
to pleasure and felicity infinite. And if this do grieve you, that ye
cannot now employ your sacrifices and oblations after your wonted
manner, yet your daily sacrifice ceaseth not, which is a contrite and
humble heart, as when you offer up daily your bodies a lively and a
glorious sacrifice unto the Lord, which is the sacrifice that
pleaseth God. And though your travail be great, yet is the reward
greater, which is most certain to follow; for God beholding and
looking down upon them that confess his name, in their willing mind
approveth them, in their striving helpeth them, in their victory
crowneth them; rewarding that in us which he hath performed, and
crowning that which he hath in us perfected. With these and such-like
comfortable words he doth animate his brethren, admonishing them that
they are now in a joyful journey, hasting apace to the mansions of
the martyrs, there to enjoy after this darkness a stable light and
brightness greater than all their passions, according to the
apostle's saying, "These sufferings of this present time be nothing
like comparable to the brightness of the glory that shall be revealed
in us," &c.

And after the like words of sweet comfort and consolation, writing to
Seagrius and Rogatianus, which were in prison and bonds for the
testimony of truth, doth encourage them to "continue stedfast and
patient in the way wherein they have begun to run; for that they have
the Lord with them their helper and defender, who promiseth to be
with us to the world's end; and therefore willeth them to set before
their eyes in their death immortality, in their pain everlasting
glory; of the which it is written, 'Precious in the sight of the Lord
is the death of his saints.' Item, although before men they suffered
torments, yet their hope is full of immortality; and being vexed in
small things, they shall be well requited in great matters; for the
Lord hath tried them as gold in the fire. And writeth moreover,
admonishing them that it is appointed from the beginning of the
world, that righteousness here should suffer in secular conflicts;
for so just Abel was slain in the beginning of the world, and after
him all just and good men; the prophets also, and the apostles sent
of the Lord himself; unto whom all the Lord first gave an example in
himself, teaching that there is no coming to his kingdom but by that
way which he entered himself, saying by these words, 'He that loveth
his life in this world shall lose it,' &c. And again, 'Fear ye not
them that slay the body, but have no power to slay the soul.' And St.
Paul likewise admonishing all them whosoever covet to be partakers of
the promises of the Lord to follow the Lord, saith, If we suffer
together with him, we shall reign together," &c.

Furthermore, as the same Cyprian doth encourage here the holy martyrs
which were in captivity to persist, so likewise, writing to the
priests and deacons which were free, he exhorteth them to be
serviceable and obsequious with all care and love, to cherish and
embrace them that were in bonds. Cyprian, lib. iii. epist. 6. Whereby
may appear the fervent zeal and care of this good bishop toward the
church of Christ, although being now in exile in the time of this
emperor Gallus.

In the same time, and under the said Gallus, reigning with his son
Volusianus, was also Lucius, bishop of Rome, sent to banishment, who
next succeeded after Cornelius in that bishopric, about the year of
our Lord two hundred fifty and three. Albeit in this banishment he
did not long continue, but returned home to his church, as by the
epistle of St. Cyprian may appear. As to all other bishops of Rome in
those primitive days, certain decretal epistles, with several
ordinances, be ascribed, bearing their names and titles, as hath been
before declared; so also hath Lucius one epistle fathered upon him,
in the which epistle he, writing to the brethren of France and of
Spain, appointeth such an order and form of the church as seemeth not
to agree with the time then present; for so he declareth in that
epistle, that a bishop in all places, whithersoever he goeth, should
have two priests with three deacons waiting upon him, to be witnesses
of all his ways and doings. Which ordinance, although I deny not but
it may be and is convenient, yet I see not how that time of Lucius
could serve then for a bishop to carry such a pomp of priests and
deacons about him, or to study for any such matter; forsomuch as
bishops commonly in those days were seldom free to go abroad, went
they never so secret, but either were in houses close and secret, or
in prison, or else in banishment. Moreover, in the said epistle, how
pompously writeth he to the church of Rome! "This holy and
apostolical Church of Rome, (saith he,) the mother of all churches of
Christ, by the grace of God omnipotent, hath never been proved to
swerve out of the path of apostolical tradition, neither hath ever
fallen or been depraved with heretical innovations; but even as in
the first beginning it received the rule of the apostolical faith by
his first instructors, the princes of the apostles, so it continueth
ever immaculate and undefiled unto the end."

Unto this Lucius also is referred in the decrees of Gratian this
constitution, that no minister whatsoever after his ordination would
at any time re-enter into the chamber of his own wife in pain of
losing his ministry in the church, &c. Eusebius in his seventh book
making mention of the death of Lucius, and not of his martyrdom,
saith that he sat but eight months; but Damasus in his Martyrology
holdeth that he sat three years, and was beheaded the second year of
Valerian and Galienus, emperors; and so doth also Marianus Scotus and
Nauclerus, with other that follow Damasus, affirm the same.

After him came Stephanus, next bishop of Rome following Lucius, whom
Damasus, Platina, and Sabellicus affirm to have sat seven years and
five months, and to die a martyr. Contrary, Eusebius and Volatennus,
holding with him, give him but two years: which part cometh most near
to the truth I leave to the reader's judgment. Of his two epistles
decretal, and of his ordinances out of the same collected, I need not
much to say for two respects; either for that concerning these
decretal epistles suspiciously entitled to the names of the fathers
of the primitive church sufficiently hath been said before; or else
because both the phrase barbarous and incongruous, and also the
matter itself therein contained, is such, that, although no testimony
came against it, yet it easily refelleth itself. As where in the
second epistle he decreeth, "That no bishop being expulsed out of his
seat, or deprived of his goods, ought to be accused of any, or is
bound to answer for himself, before that by the law regularly he be
restored again fully to his former state, and that the primates and
the synod render unto him again all such possessions and fruits as
were taken from him before his accusation, as is agreeing both to the
laws canon and also secular." First, here I would desire the reader a
little to stay, and this to consider with himself, who be these here
meant which either used or might despoil these bishops of their
goods, and expel them from their seats for such wrongful causes, but
only kings and emperors, which at this time were not yet christened,
nor used any such proceedings against these bishops, in such sort as
either primates or synods could restore them again to their places
and possessions. Again, what private goods or possessions had bishops
then to be taken from them, whenas churches yet neither were endowed
with patrimonies nor possessions? And if any treasures were committed
to the church, it pertained not properly to the bishop, but went in
general to the subvention of the poor in the church, as in the
epistle of Cornelius to Fabius may appear, alleged in Eusebius, where
he, speaking of his church, and declaring how there ought to be but
one bishop in the same, inferreth mention of forty and six priests,
seven deacons, with seven subdeacons, forty-two Acoluthes, of widows
and poor afflicted persons to the number of fifteen hundred and
above, found and nourished in the same by the merciful benignity and
providence of God. It followeth more in the end of the said canon,
"Which thing is forbidden both by the laws ecclesiastical, and also
secular," &c. Now what laws secular were in the time of Stephen for
bishops not to be charged with any accusation before they were
restored again to their state, let any reader, marking well the state
of the heathen laws that then were, judge; and in judging I doubt not
but this matter alone, though there were no other, will be enough to
descry the untruth hereof.

Moreover, by divers other probable notes and ar guments in the said
second epistle of Stephanus, it may be easily espied this epistle to
be feigned and misauthorized, especially by the fifth canon of the
said epistle, where he so solemnly treateth of the difference between
primates, metropolitans, and archbishops; which distinction of
degrees and titles, savouring more of ambition than of persecution,
giveth me verily to suppose this epistle not to be written by this
Stephen, but by some other man either of that name, or of some other
time when the church began to be settled in more prosperity, and
orders therein to be taken, for every man to know his degree and
limits of his authority, according as is specified by the sixth and
seventh canon of the Nicene Council, decreeing of the same matter.

The like estimation may be conceived also of the seventh canon of the
said epistle, where he willeth and appointeth all causes judiciary to
be decided and determined within the precinct of their own proper
province, and not to pass over the bounds thereof, unless (saith he)
the appeal be made to the apostolical see of Rome; which savoureth in
my nose rather of a smack of popery, than of the vein of
Christianity, especially in these times, during this terrible
persecution among the bishops of Christ. And thus much of the second
decretal epistle of Stephanus, although of the first epistle also,
written to Hilarius, something may be said; as where he speaketh in
the said epistle of holy vestments, and holy vessels, and other
ornaments of the altar serving to Divine worship, and therefore not
to be touched nor handled of any man, saving of priests alone.
Concerning all which implements my opinion is this; I think the
Church of Rome not to have been in so good state then, that either
Stephanus, or Sixtus before him, being occupied about other more
earnest matters, and scarce able to hide their own heads, had any
mind or cogitation to study upon such unnecessary inventions serving
in public churches; neither do I see how the heathen in those days
would have suffered these ornaments to be unconsumed, which would not
suffer the bishops themselves to live amongst them, notwithstanding
Isidorus and Polydorus judge the contrary. Between this Stephanus and
Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, was a great contention about rebaptizing
of heretics, whereof more hereafter (Christ willing) shall be said.

Besides these bishops above specified, divers other there were also
sent into banishment under the forenamed emperors Gallus and
Volusianus, as appeareth by Dionysius writing to Hermannus on this
wise: That Gallus, not seeing the evil of Decius, nor foreseeing the
occasion of his seduction and ruin, stumbled himself also at the same
stone, lying open before his eyes; for when at the first beginning
his empire went prosperously forward, and alI things went luckily
with him, afterward he drave out holy men, which prayed for his peace
and safeguard, and so with them rejected also the prayers which they
made for him. Otherwise, of any bloodshed or any martyrs that in the
time of this emperor were put to death, we do not read.

After the reign of which emperor Gallus and of his son Volusianus
being expired, (who reigned but two years,) Emilianus, which slew
them both by civil sedition, succeeded in their place, who reigned
but three months, and was also slain. Next to whom Valerianus and his
son Galienus were advanced to the empire.

About the changing of these emperors the persecution which first
began at Decius, and afterward slacked in the time of Gallus, was now
extinguished for a time, partly for the great plague reigning in all
places, partly by the change of the emperors, although it was not
very long. For Valerianus in the first entrance of the empire, for
the space of three or four years, was right courteous and gentle to
the people of God, and well accepted of the senate. Neither was there
any of all the emperors before him, no, not of them which openly
professed Christ, that showed himself so loving and familiar toward
the Christians as he did; insomuch that (as Dionysius writing to
Herman doth testify) all his whole court was replenished with holy
saints, and
servants of Christ and godly persons, so that his house might seem to
be made a church of God. But by the malice of Satan, through wicked
counsel, these quiet days endured not very long. For in process of
time this Valerian being charmed or incensed by a certain Egyptian, a
chief ruler of the heathen synagogue of the Egyptians, a master of
the charmers or enchanters, who indeed was troubled for that he could
not do his magical feats for the Christians, was so far infatuated
and bewitched, that through the detestable provocations of that
devilish Egyptian, he was wholly turned unto abominable idols, and to
execrable impiety, in sacrificing young infants, and quartering
bodies, and dividing the entrails of children new born; and so,
proceeding in his fury, he moved the eighth persecution against the
Christians, whom the wicked Egyptian could not abide, as being the
hinderers and destroyers of his magical enchantings, about the year
of our Lord two hundred fifty and nine.



10. THE EIGHTH PERSECUTION UNDER VALERIAN

 In the which persecution the chief administrators and actors were
Emilianus, president of Egypt, Paternus and Galerius Maximus,
proconsuls in Africa. Bergomensis also maketh mention of Paternus,
vicegerent of Rome, and of Perennius. Vincentius speaketh also of
Nicerius and Claudius, presidents, &c.

What was the chief original cause of this persecution partly is
signified before, where mention was made of the wicked Egyptian; but
as this was the outward and political cause, so St. Cyprian showeth
other causes more special and ecclesiastical in his fourth book,
whose words be these: "But we (saith he) must understand and confess,
that this turbulent oppression and calamity, which hath wasted for
the most part all our whole company, and doth daily consume it,
riseth chiefly of our own wickedness and sins, while we walk not in
the way of the Lord, nor observe his precepts left unto us for our
institution. The Lord observed the will of his Father in all points,
but we observe not the will of the Lord, having all our mind and
study set upon lucre and possessions, given to pride, full of
emulation and dissension, void of simplicity and faithful dealing,
renouncing this world in word only, but nothing in deed, every man
pleasing himself, and displeasing all others. And therefore are we
thus scourged, and worthily; for what stripes and scourges do we not
deserve, when the confessors themselves, (such as have bid the trial
of their confession,) and such as ought to be an example to the rest
of well-doing, do keep no discipline? And therefore because some such
there be, proudly puffed up with this swelling and unmannerly
bragging of their confession, these torments come, such as do not
easily send us to the crown, except by the mercy of God; some, being
taken away by quickness of death, do prevent the tediousness of
punishment. These things do we suffer for our sins and deserts, as by
the Lord's censure we have been forewarned, saying, If they shall
forsake my law, and will not walk in my judgments; if they shall
profane my institutions, and will not observe my precepts; I will
visit their iniquities with the rod, and their transgressions with
scourges. These rods and scourges (saith he) we feel, which neither
please God in our good deeds, nor repent in our evil deeds."
Wherefore the said Cyprian adding this exhortation withal, exhorted
them to pray and entreat from the bottom of their heart and whole
mind the mercy of God, which promiseth, saying, But yet my mercy I
will not scatter from them, &c. Let us ask, and we shall obtain; and
though (saith Cyprian) it be with tarriance, yet, forsomuch as we
have grievously offended, let us continue knocking; for to him that
knocketh it shall be opened, if our prayers, sighings, and weepings
knock still at the door with continuance, and if our prayers be
joined together with brotherly agreement. Moreover, what vices were
then principally reigning among the Christians he further specifieth
in the said epistle, which chiefly were "division and dissension
among the brethren. For when it was spoken to them in a vision by
these words, Pray, and ye shall obtain; afterward it was required of
the congregation there present to direct their prayers for certain
persons assigned to them by name: but they could not agree and
condescend together on the names and persons of them which they
should pray for, but were dissonant in their consent and petition;
which thing (saith Cyprian) did greatly displease him that spake unto
them, Pray, and ye shall obtain, for that there was no uniform
equality of voice and heart, nor one simple and joint concord among
the brethren, whereof it is written in the sixty-seventh Psalm, God
which maketh to dwell in the house together men of one accord." And
so by the occasion hereof he writeth unto them in the foresaid
epistle, and moveth them to prayer and mutual agreement. "For (saith
he) if it be promised in the gospel to be granted whatsoever any two
consenting together shall ask, what shall then the whole church do
agreeing together? Or what if this unanimity were among the whole
fraternity? Which unanimity, (saith Cyprian,) if it had been amongst
the brethren, these evils had not happened to the brethren, if the
brethren had joined together in brotherly unanimity."

After the causes thus declared of this and other persecution, the
said St. Cyprian, moreover, in the forenamed epistle, (worthy to be
read of all men,) describeth likewise a certain vision, wherein was
showed unto him by the Lord before the persecution came what should
happen. The vision was this: "There was a certain aged father
sitting, at whose right hand sat a young man very sad and pensive, as
one with an indignation sorrowful, holding his hand upon his breast,
his countenance heavy and uncheerful. On the left hand sat another
person, having in his hand a net, which he threatened to lay to catch
the people that stood about. And as he was marvelling that saw the
sight thereof, it was said unto him, The young man whom thou seest
sit on the right hand is sad and sorry that his precepts be not
observed. But he on the left hand danceth and is merry, for that
occasion is given him to have power of the aged father to afflict
men. And this vision was seen long before this tempest of persecution
happened, wherein is declared the same that before is said, The sins
of the people to be the cause why Satan in this persecution, and all
others, hath had, and hath still, such power with his net of
destruction to rage against the blood of Christian men, and all
because saith Cyprian we foreslack our praying, or he not so vigilant
therein as we should; wherefore the Lord, because he loveth us,
correcteth us; correcteth us to amend us, amendeth us to save us."

Furthermore, the same Cyprian, and in the same epistle, writing of
his own revelation or message sent to him, thus saith: "And to his
least servant. both sinful and unworthy, (meaning himself,) God of
his tender goodness hath vouchsafed to direct this word: Tell him
(saith he) that he be quiet and of good comfort; for peace will come,
albeit a little stay there is for a while, for that some remain yet
to be proved and tried, &c. And showeth also in the same place of
another revelation of his, wherein he was admonished to be spare in
his feeding, and sober in his drink, lest his mind, given to heavenly
meditation, might be carried away with worldly allurements, or,
oppressed with too much surfeit of meats and drinks, should be less 
apt or able to prayer and spiritual exercise."

Finally, in the latter end of the foresaid epistle mention also
followeth of other revelations or showings: "Wherein the Lord (saith
Cyprian) doth vouchsafe to many of his servants to foreshow to come
the restoring of his church, the stable quiet of our health and
safeguard; after rain fair weather, after darkness light, after
stormy tempest peaceable calm, the fatherly help of his love, the
wont and old glory of his Divine Majesty; whereby both the blasphemy
of the persecutor shall be repressed, and the repentance of such as
have fallen be reformed, and the strong and stable confidence of them
that stand shall rejoice and glory." Thus much hath St. Cyprian
written of these things to the clergy, lib. 4. epist. 4.

As touching now the crimes and accusations in this persecution laid
to the charge of the Christians, this was the principal: first,
because they refused to do worship to their idols and to the
emperors; then for that they professed the name of Christ: besides,
all the calamities and evils that happened in the world, as wars,
famine, and pestilence, were imputed only to the Christians. Against
all which quarrelling accusations Cyprian doth eloquently defend the
Christians, like as Tertullian had done before, "And first touching
the objection, for not worshipping idols, he cleareth the Christians
both in his book against Demetrian, and also On the Vanity of Idols,
proving those idols to be no true gods; but images of certain dead
kings, which neither could save themselves from death, nor such as
worship them. The true God to be but one, and that by the testimony
of Sosthenes, Plato, and Trismegistus, the which God the Christians
do truly worship. And as concerning that the Christians were thought
to be the cause of public calamities, because they worshipped not the
Gentiles' idols, he purgeth the Christians thereof, proving that if
there be any defect in increase of things, it is not to be ascribed 
to them, but rather to the decrease of nature, languishing now
towards her age and latter end. Again, for that it hath been so
foresaid and prophesied, that towards the end of the world should
come wars, famine, and pestilence. Moreover, if there be any cause
thereof more proper than other, it is most like to be imputed to
their vain idolatry, and to the contempt of the true God. Also that
such evils be increased by the wickedness of the people, so that, to
speak in his own words, famine cometh more by avarice of men than by
drought of the air, but especially the cause thereof to proceed of
the cruel shedding of the innocent blood of the Christians."

Thus with many other more probations doth Cyprian defend the
Christians against the barbarous exclamations of the heathen
Gentiles. Of which Cyprian, for so much as he suffered in the time of
this persecution, I mind (Christ willing) to recapitulate here in
ample discourse the full sum, first of his life and bringing up, then
of his death and martyrdom, as the worthiness of that man deserveth
to be remembered. Of this Cyprian therefore, otherwise named Statius,
thus write Nicephorus, Nazianzenus, Jacobus de Voragine, Henricus de
Erfordia, Volateranus, Hieronymus, and others: that he, being an
African, and born in Carthage, first was an idolater and Gentile,
altogether given to the study and practice of the magical arts; of
whose parentage and education in letters from his youth no mention is
made, but that he was a worthy rhetorician in Africa; of whose
conversion and baptism he himself, in his first book and second
epistle, writeth a flourishing and eloquent history. Which his
conversion unto the Christian faith, as Jerome affirmeth in his
Commentary upon Jonas, was through the grace of God, and the means of
Cecilius a priest, whose name after he bare, and through the occasion
of hearing the history of the prophet Jonas. The same Jerome,
moreover, testifieth how he, immediately upon his conversion,
distributed among the poor all his substance, and after that, being
ordained a priest, was not long after constituted bishop of the
congregation of Carthage. But whether he succeeded Agrippinus, of
whom he often maketh mention, (which also was the first author of
rebaptization,) or some other bishop of Carthage, it remaineth
uncertain. But this is most true, he himself shined in his office and
dignity with such good gifts and virtues, that, as Nazianzenus
writeth, he had the government of the whole east church, and church
of Spain, and was called the bishop of the Christian men.

And to the further setting forth (to the praise of God) of his godly
virtues wherewith he was endowed, appearing as well in His own works
to them that list to peruse the same, as also described by other
worthy writers; he was courteous and gentle, loving and full of
patience, and therewithal sharp and severe in his office, according
as the cause required, as appeareth in his first book and third
epistle. Furthermore, he was most loving and kind toward his
brethren, and took much pains in helping and relieving the martyrs,
as appeareth by his letters to the elders and deacons of his
bishopric, that with all study and endeavour they should gently
entertain and show pleasure unto the martyrs in his absence, as
partly is touched before.

The third epistle of his first book doth declare of what stomach and
godly courage he was in executing his office, and handling his
matters. Neither was he void of prudence and circumspection, but was
adorned with marvellous modesty, whereby he attempted nothing upon
his own head and judgment, but with the consent of his fellow bishops
and other inferior ministers; and that chiefly (among others) doth
the tenth epistle of his third book witness. He was of a marvellous
liberal disposition towards the poor brethren of other countries; for
so often as he had cause of absence, he committed the care of those
poor men to his fellow officers, and wrote unto them, that of their
own proper goods they would help their banished brethren to that
which was necessary for them, as witnesseth the twenty and fourth
epistle of his third book. He recited among other gifts wherewith he
was endued, as touching the visions and heavenly admonitions of the
persecutions that should follow, and of other matters touching the
government of the church, in his first book and third epistle, and
fourth book and fourth epistle, where he reciteth and expoundeth the
form or manner of a certain vision, which we have before sufficiently
expressed.

He had, moreover, great skill in the foreknowledge of things that
should chance, as may be gathered in the sixth epistle of his fourth
book. Also Augustine doth attribute unto him many worthy virtues, who
writeth much in setting forth his gifts of humility in his second
book of Baptism, the fourth chapter, against the Donatists; and in
his seventh book and eleventh chapter, of his long-sufferance and
patience, also of his courtesy and meekness; by which virtues he
concealed nothing that he understood, but uttered the same meekly and
patiently. Also that he kept the ecclesiastical peace and concord
with those that were of another opinion than he was of. Lastly, that
he neither circumvented nor did prejudice any man, but followed that
thing which seemed good in his judgment, it is manifest in St.
Augustine's first book on Baptism against the Donatists. Neither is
this to be passed with silence, that Jerome writeth that he was very
diligent in reading, especially the works of Tertullian; for he saith
that he saw a certain old man, whose name was Paulus, which told him
he saw the notary of blessed Cyprian, being then an old man, when he
himself was but a springall in the city of Rome, and told him that it
was Cyprian's wont never to let one day pass without some reading of
Tertullian, and that he was accustomed often-times to say unto him,
Give me my master, meaning thereby Tertullian.

Now a few words touching his exile and martyrdom. Of his epistles
which he wrote back to his congregation, leading his life in exile,
mention is made above, wherein he showeth the virtue beseeming a
faithful pastor, in that he took no less care as well of his own
church, as of other bishops, being absent, than he did being present.
Wherein also he himself doth signify that voluntarily he absented
himself, lest he should do more hurt than good to the congregation,
by reason of his presence, as is likewise declared before. Thus from
the desolate places of his banishment, wherein he was oftentimes
sought for, he writeth unto his brethren, as in his third book and
tenth epistle is manifest, which thing seemeth to be done in the
reign of Decius or Gallus. But after that he returned again out of
exile in the reign of this Valerianus, he was also after that the
second time banished of Paternus, the proconsul of Africa, into the
city of Thurbin, as the oration of Augustine touching Cyprian
showeth; or else, as Pontius the deacon saith, into a city named
Furabilitana, or Curabilitana. But when Paternus the proconsul was
dead, Galienus Maximus succeeded in the room and office of Paternus,
who, finding Cyprian in a garden, caused him to be apprehended by his
serjeants, and to be brought before the idols to offer sacrifice;
which, when he would not do, then the proconsul, breaking forth in
these words, said, Long hast thou lived in a sacrilegious mind, and
hast gathered together men of a wicked conspiracy, and hast showed
thyself an enemy to the gods of the Romans, and to their holy laws;
neither could the sacred emperors Valerianus and Galie nus revoke
thee to the sect of their ceremonies. At length the wicked tyrant
condemning him to have his head cut off, he patiently and willingly
submitted his neck to the stroke of the sword, as Jerome affirmeth.
And so this blessed martyr ended this present life in the Lord,
Xixtus then being bishop of Rome, as Eusebius noteth, in the year of
our Lord two hundred fifty and nine. Sabellicus saith that he was
martyred in the reign of Gaflus and Volusianus, Lucius being bishop
of Rome; but that seemeth not like.

As we have hitherto set forth the commendation of Cyprian, this
blessed martyr; so must we now take heed again that we do not here
incur the old and common danger which the papists are commonly
accustomed to run into, whose fault is always almost to be immoderate
and excessive in their proceedings, making too much almost of every
thing. So, in speaking of the holy sacraments, they make more of them
than doth the nature of sacraments require; not using them, but
abusing them; not referring or applying them, but adoring them; not
taking them in their kind for things godly, as they are, but taking
them for God himself; turning religion into superstition, and the
creature to the Creator, the things signifying to the things
themselves signified, &c. To the church likewise, and ceremonies of
the church, to general councils, to the blessed virgin Mary, mother
of Christ, to the bishop of Rome, and to all other in like case; not
contented to attribute that which is sufficient, they exceed moreover
the bounds of judgment and verity, judging so of the church and
general councils, as though they could never, or did never, err in
any jot. That the blessed mother of Christ amongst all women was
blessed, and a virgin full of grace, the Scripture and truth doth
give; but to say that she was born without all original sin, or to
make of her an advocate or mother of mercy, there they run further
than truth will bear. The ceremonies were first ordained to serve but
only for order's sake, unto the which they have attributed so much at
length, that they have set in them a great part of our religion, yea,
and also salvation. And what thing is there else almost wherein the
papists have not exceeded?

Wherefore, to avoid this common error of the papists, we must beware
in commending the doctors and writers of the church, and so commend
them, that truth and consideration go with our commendation. For
though this cannot be denied, but that holy Cyprian, and other
blessed martyrs, were holy men; yet, notwithstanding, they were men,
that is, such as might have and had their falls and faults; men, I
say, and not angels, nor gods; saved by God, not saviours of men, nor
patrons of grace. And though they were also men of excellent
learning, and worthy doctors, yet with their learning they had their
errors also annexed. And though their books be (as they ought to he)
of great authority, yet ought they not to be equal with the
Scriptures. And albeit they said well in most things, yet it is not
therefore enough that what they said must stand for a truth. That
pre-eminence of authority only helongeth to the word of God, and not
to the pen of man. For of men and doctors, be they never so famous,
there is none that is void of his reprehension. In Origen, although
in his time the admiration of his learning was singular, yet how many
things be there which the church now holdeth not, but examining him
by Scriptures, where he said well they admit him, where otherwise,
they leave him. In Polycarp, the church hath corrected and altered
that which he did hold in celebrating the Easter-day after the Jews.
Neither can holy and blessed Ignatius be defended in all his sayings;
as where he maketh the fasting upon the Sunday or the sabbath day as
great an offence as to kill Christ himself; contrary to this saying
of St. Paul, "Let no man judge you in meat and drink:" also where the
said Ignatius speaketh concerning virginity, and of other things
more. Irenæus did hold that man was not made perfect in the
beginning. He seemeth also to defend free-will in man in those things
also that be spiritual. He saith that Christ suffered after he was
fifty years old, abusing this place of the Gospel," Then said the
Jews unto him, Thou art not yet fifty years old, and hast thou seen
Abraham?" John viii. 57. Tertullian (whom St. Cyprian never laid out
of his hands almost) is noted to be a Chiliast; also to have been of
Montanus's sect. The same did hold also, with Justin, Cyprian, and
others, that the angels fell first for the concupiscence of women. He
defendeth free-will of man after the corruption of nature, inclining
also to the error of them which defend the possibility of keeping
God's law. Concerning marriage, We know (saith he) one marriage, as
we know one God; condemning the second marriage. Divers other things
of like absurdity in him be noted. Justin also seemeth to have
inclined unto the error of the Chiliasts, of the fall of certain
angels by women, of free-will of man, of possibility of keeping the
law, and such others. Neither was this our Cyprian, the great scholar
of Tertullian, utterly exempt from the blot of them who, contrary to
the doctrine of the church, did hold with rebap tizing of such as
were before baptized of heretics, whereof speaketh St. Augustine,
misliking the same error of Cyprian. Upon the which matter there was
a great contention between the said Cyprian and Stephen bishop of
Rome, as partly afore is noted. Of Augustine himself likewise, of
Ambrose, Hierom, Chrysostom, the same may be said, that none of them
all so clearly passed away, but their peculiar faults and errors went
with them, whereof it were too long, and out of our purpose, at this
present to treat. And thus much concerning the story of Cyprian the
holy learned martyr of Christ.

Albeit here is to be noted by the way, touching the life and story of
Cyprian, that this Cyprian was not he whom the narration of Nazianzen
speaketh of, (as is above mentioned,) who from art magic was
converted to be a Christian, which Cyprian was a citizen of Antioch,
and afterward bishop of the same city, and was martyred under
Dioclesian; whereas this Cyprian was bishop of Carthage, and died
under Valerianus, as is said. By the decrees of Gratian, it
appeareth, moreover, that there was also a third Cyprian in the time
of Julianus, the emperor apostate, long after both these aforenamed;
for so giveth the title prefixed before the said distinction, Cyprian
to the emperor Julian; the distinction beginning, Quoniam idem
Mediator Dei et hominum, homo Christus Jesus, sic actibus propriis,
et dignitatibus distinctis officia potestatis utriusque discernit,
&c. Upon the which distinction the gloss cometh in with these words,
saying that the popedom and the seat imperial have both one beginning
of one, that is, Christ, who was both Bishop and King of kings. And
that the said dignities be distinct, albeit the pope notwithstanding
hath both the swords in his hand, and may exercise them both
sometimes together. "And therefore although they be distinct, yet in
exercise the one standeth lineally under the other; so that the
imperial dignity is subject under the papal dignity, as the inferior
is subject under the superior; that as there is one Ruler over the 
whole world, which is God; so in the church is one monarch, that is,
the pope, to whom the Lord hath committed the power and lawful right
both of the heavenly and terrene dominion."

Thus much I thought here to note by the way, because this distinction
is fathered upon Cyprian, which is false; for this Cyprian was not in
the time of Julian, not by two hundred years, and so likewise the
other Cyprian, which died martyr under Dioclesian. Of any Cyprian
besides these two we read not; neither is it credible, that if there
were any such Cyprian, he would ever have written of any such matter,
of the difference and mutual need of Christian emperors and Christian
popes; whenas that emperor, being an apostate, neither regarded
Christ, nor cared for any pope.

About this time, and under the same emperor Valerianus, suffered also
Xistus, or Sixtus, the second of that name, bishop of Rome, who,
being accused of his adversaries to be a Christian: was brought with
his six deacons to the place of execution, where he, with Nemesius,
and other his deacons, were beheaded and suffered martyrdom. Laurence
in the same time, being also deacon, followed after, complaining to
Xistus, (as one being grieved,) that he might not also suffer with
him, but to be secluded as the son from the father. To whom the
bishop answering again, declared that within three days he should
follow after. In the mean time he willed him to go home, and to
distribute his treasures, if he had any, unto the poor. The judge,
belike hearing mention to be made of treasures to be given to the
poor, and thinking that Laurence had great store of treasure in his
custody, commanded him to bring the same unto him, according as in
the discourse of his story hereunder written more fully may appear.
Which history, because it is set forth more at large in Prudentius,
Ambrose, and other writers, and containeth in it more things worthy
to be noted of the reader, we have therefore with the more diligence
here inserted the more ample description of the same, to the further
admiration of his patience, and God's glory showed in him.

Now then, as order requireth, let us enter the story of that most
constant and courageous martyr of Christ St. Laurence, whose words
and works deserve to be as fresh and green in Christian hearts as is
the flourishing laurel tree. This thirsty heart, longing after the
water of life, desirous to pass unto it through the strait door of
bitter death, when on a time he saw his vigilant shepherd Xistus led
as a harmless lamb of harmful tyrants to his death, cried out with
open mouth and heart invincible, saying, O dear father, whither goest
thou without the company of thy dear son? Whither hastenest thou, O
reverend priest, without thy deacon? Never wast thou wont to offer
sacrifice without thy minister. What crime is there in me that
offendeth thy fatherhood? Hast thou proved me unnatural? Now try,
sweet father, whether thou hast chosen a faithful minister or not.
Deniest thou unto him the fellowship of thy blood, to whom thou hast
committed the distribution of the Lord's blood? See that thy judgment
be not misliked, whilst thy fortitude is liked and lauded. The
abasing of the scholar is the disgracing of the master. What! have we
not learned that worthy masters have obtained most worthy fame by the
worthy acts of their disciples and scholars? Finally, Abraham
sacrificed his only begotten Isaac; stoned Stephen prepared the way
to preaching Peter: even so, father, declare thy manifold virtues by
me thy son. Offer thou him that proffereth himself; grant that the
body of thy scholar may be sacrificed, whose mind with good letters
thou hast beautified. These words with tears St. Laurence uttered,
not because his master should suffer, but for that he might not be
suffered to taste of death's cup which he thirsted after.

Then Xistus to his son shaped this answer: I forsake thee not, O my
son; I give thee to wit that a sharper conflict remaineth for thee. A
feeble and weak old man am I, and therefore run the race of a lighter
and easier death; but lusty and young thou art, and more lustily,
yea, more gloriously, shalt thou triumph over this tyrant: thy time
approacheth, cease to weep and lament, three days after thou shalt
follow me; decent it is that this space of time come between the
priest and the Levite. It may not beseem thee, O sweet pupil, to
triumph under thy master, lest it be said he wanted a helper. Why
cravest thou to be partaker with me in my passion? I bequeath unto
thee the whole inheritance. Why requirest thou to enjoy my presence?
Let weak scholars go before, and the stronger come after, that those
without master may get the victory, which have no need by master to 
be governed. So Helias left behind him his beloved Heliseus. I yield
up into thy hands the succession of my virtues. Such was their
contention, not unmeet for so godly a priest and so zealous a
minister, striving with themselves who should first suffer for the
name of Christ Jesus.

In tragical histories we have it mentioned, that through joy and
admiration people clapped their hands, when Pilades named himself
Orestes, Orestes (as truth it was) affirmed himself to be Orestes;
Pilades wishing to die for Orestes, Orestes not suffering Pilades to
lose his life for his sake; but neither of them might escape death;
for both these lovers were guilty of blood, the one committing the
fact, the other consenting. But this our Laurence, the martyr most
constant, was by no means enforced to make this proffer, saving only
by his ardent zeal and fervent spirit, who, thirsting after the cup
of martyrdom, had it shortly after filled to the hard brim.

(Illustration: St. Lawrence being tortured )


Now let us draw near to the fire of martyred Laurence, that our cold
hearts may be warmed thereby. The merciless tyrant, understanding
this virtuous Levite not only to be a minister of the sacraments, but
a distributer also of the church riches, (whereof mention is made
before in the words of Xistus,) promised to himself a double prey by
the apprehension of one silly soul. First with the rake of avarice to
scrape to himself the treasure of poor Christians; then with the
fiery fork of tyranny so to toss and turmoil them, that they should
wax weary of their profession. With furious face and cruel
countenance the greedy wolf demanded where this deacon Laurence had
bestowed the substance of the church? who craving three days'
respite, promised to declare where the treasure might be had. In the
mean time, he caused a good number of poor Christians to be
congregated. So when the day of his answer was come, the persecutor
strictly charged him to stand to his promise. Then valiant Laurence,
stretching out his arms over the poor, said, These are the precious
treasure of the church, these are the treasure indeed, in whom the
faith of Christ reigneth, in whom Jesus Christ hath his mansion-
place. What more precious jewels can Christ have than those in whom
he hath promised to dwell? For so it is written, I was hungry, and ye
gave me to eat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me to drink; I was
harbourless, and ye lodged me. And again, Look what ye have done to
the least of these, the same have ye done to me. What greater riches
can Christ our Master possess than the poor people, in whom he loveth
to be seen? Oh what tongue is able to express the fury and madness of
the tyrant's heart? Now he stamped, he stared, he raged, he fared as
one out of his wits; his eyes like fire glowed, his mouth like a boar
foamed, his teeth like a hell-hound grinded. Now not a reasonable
man, but a roaring lion, he might be called. "Kindle the fire (he
cried); of wood make no spare. Hath this villain deluded the emperor?
Away with him, away with him; whip him with scourges, jerk him with
rods, buffet him with fists, brain him with clubs. Jesteth the
traitor with the emperor? Pinch him with fiery tongs, gird him with
burning plates, bring out the strongest chains, and the fire forks,
and the grated bed of iron: on the fire with it, bind the rebel hand
and foot; and when the bed is fire hot, on with him; roast him, broil
him, toss him, turn him: on pain of our high displeasure do every man
his office, O ye tormentors." The word was no sooner spoken but all
was done.

After many cruel handlings, this meek lamb was laid, I will not say
on his fiery bed of iron, but on his soft bed of down. So mightily
God wrought with his martyr Laurence, so miraculously God tempered
his element the fire, not a bed of consuming pain, but a pallet of
nourishing rest, was it unto Laurence. Not Laurence, but the emperor,
might seem to be tormented; the one broiling in the flesh, the other
burning in the heart. When this triumphant martyr had been pressed
down with firepikes for a great space, in the mighty Spirit of God he
spake to the vanquished tyrant:

This side is now roasted enough, turn up, O tyrant great;
Assay whether roasted or raw thou thinkest the better meat.


O rare and unaccustomed patience! O faith invincible! that not only
not burnest, but by means unspeakable dost recreate, refresh,
stablish, and strengthen those that are burned, afflicted, and
troubled. And why so mightily comfortest thou the persecuted? Because
through thee they believe in God's promises infallible. By thee this
glorious martyr overcometh his torments, vanquisheth this tyrant,
confoundeth his enemies, confirmeth the
Christians, sleepeth in peace, and reigneth in glory. The God of
might and mercy grant us grace, by the life of Laurence to learn in
Christ to live, and by his death to learn for Christ to die. Amen.

Such is the wisdom and providence of God, that the blood of his dear
saints (like good seed) never falleth in vain to the ground, but it
bringeth some increase: so it pleased the Lord to work at the
martyrdom of this holy Laurence, that, by the constant confession of
this worthy and valiant deacon, a certain soldier of Rome, being
therewith conscience stricken and converted to the same faith,
desired forthwith to be baptized of him; for the which he, being
called for of the judge, was scourged, and afterward beheaded.

Under the same Valerianus suffered also Dionysius, bishop of
Alexandria, much affliction and banishment, with certain other
brethren; of the which he writeth himself, and is alleged in the
ecclesiastical story of Eusebius, the words whereof tend to this
effect. Dionysius, with three of his deacons, to wit, Maximus,
Faustus, and Cheremon, also with a certain brother of Rome, came to
Emilianus, then president, who were declared unto them, in
circumstance of words, how he had signified unto them the clemency of
his lords and emperors, who had granted them pardon of life, so that
they would return to them, and worship the gods and keepers (as he
called them) of their empire, asking them what answer they would give
him thereunto; trusting, as he said, that they would not show
themselves ungrateful to the clemency of them which so gently did
exhort them. To this Dionysius answering, said, All men worship not
all gods, but divers men divers gods; so as every one hath in himself
a mind or fantasy to worship. But we worship not many nor divers
gods, but only that one God who is the Creator of all things, and
hath committed to our lords, Valerianus and Gallienus, the government
of their empire, making to him our prayers incessantly for their
prosperous health and continuance. Then the president said, And what
hurt is it, sith that you may both worship your God, what god soever
he be, and these our gods also? For you are commanded to worship such
gods as all men know to be gods. Dionysius answered, We worship none
other but as we have said. Emilianus, the president, said, I see ye
are ungrateful men, and consider not the benignity of the emperor;
wherefore you shall remain no longer in this city, but shall be sent
out to the parts of Libya, unto a town called Cephro; for that place
by the commandment of the emperor I have chosen for you. Neither
shall it be lawful for you to convent your assemblies, or to resort
as ye are wont to your burial-places. And if any of you shall be
found out of your places whereunto you are appointed, at your peril
be it. And think not contrary but ye shall be watched well enough.
Depart, therefore, to the place, as is commanded you. And it
followeth more, in the said Dionysius speaking of himself, And as for
me, (saith he,) although I was sick, yet he urged me so strictly to
depart, that he would not give me one day's respite. And how (said
he, writing to Germanus) could I congregate or not congregate any
assemblies? And after a few lines it followeth, And yet neither am I
altogether absent from the corporal society of the Lord's flock, but
I have collected them together which were in the city, being absent,
as though I had been present; absent in body, yet present in spirit.
And in the same Cephro a great congregation remained with me, as well
of those brethren which followed me out of the city, as also of them
which were remaining there out of Egypt. And there the Lord opened to
me the door of his word: although at the first entrance I was
persecuted and stoned among them, yet afterward a great number of
them fell from their idols, and were converted unto the Lord. And so
by us the word was preached to them which before were infidels; which
ministry, after that we had accomplished there, the Lord removed us
to another place. For Emilianus translated us from thence to more
sharp and stricter places of Libya, and commanded us to meet all
together at the city Mareota; thinking there to separate us severally
into sundry villages, or thinking rather to take and prevent us by
the way. After we were come thither, it was assigned to me (saith
Dionysius) to go to Colluthion, which place I never heard of before,
which was the more grief to me; yet some solace it was to me, that
the brethren told me it was near to a city named Paretonium. For as
my being at Cephro got me the acquaintance of many brethren of Egypt,
so my hope was, that the vicinity of that place (where I should be)
to the city might procure the familiarity and concourse of certain
loving brethren, which would resort and assemble with us, and so it
came to pass, &c.

Moreover, the said Dionysius in his epistle, to Domitius and Dydimus,
making mention of them which were afflicted in this persecution of
Valerian, recordeth these words, It were superfluous (saith he) here
to recite the names peculiarly of all our brethren slain in this
persecution, which both were many, and to me unknown. But this is
certain, that there were men, women, young men, maidens, old wives,
soldiers, simple innocents, and of all sorts and ages of men. Of whom
some with scourges and fire, some with sword, obtained victory, and
got the crown. Some continued a great time, and yet have been
reserved. In the which number am I reserved hitherto to some other
opportune time known unto the Lord, which saith, "In the time
accepted I have heard thee, and in the day of salvation I have helped
thee," &c. Now as concerning myself, in what state I am, if thou
desire to know first how I, and Caius, and Faustus, Petrus and
Paulus, being apprehended by the centurion, were taken away by
certain of the town of Mareota, I have declared to you before. Now I,
and Caius, and Petrus alone are left here included in a waste place
of Libya, distant the space of three days' journey from Paretonium,
&c. And in process further he addeth, In the city (saith he) were
certain which privily visit the brethren; of priests, Maximus,
Dioscorus, Demetrius, and Lucius. For they which were more notable in
the world, Faustinus and Aquila, do wander abroad in Egypt. Of the
deacons, besides them whom sickness hath consumed, Faustus, Eusebius,
and Cheremon are yet alive. Eusebius hath God raised and stirred up
to minister to the confessors lying in bands, and to bury the bodies
of the blessed martyrs, not without great peril. Neither doth the
president cease yet to this day, cruelly murdering such as be brought
before him, tearing some with torments, imprisoning and keeping some
in custody, commanding that no man should come to them, inquiring
also who resorted unto them. Yet notwithstanding God with
cheerfulness and daily resort of the brethren doth comfort the
afflicted.

Concerning these deacons above recited, here is to be noted, that
Eusebius afterward was made bishop of Laodicea in Syria. Maximus the
priest aforesaid had the ministration of the church of Alexandria
after Dionysius. Faustus long after continued in great age, unto the
later persecution, where he, being a very old man, at length was
beheaded, and died a martyr.

As touching Dionysius himself, thus the stories report, that he
surviving all these troubles and persecutions, by the providence of
God, continued after the death of Valerian unto the twelfth year of
the reign of Gallienus, which was about the year of our Lord two
hundred threescore and eight; and so departed in peace in great age,
after that he had governed the church of Alexandria the space of
seventeen years, and before that had taught the school of the said
city of Alexandria the term of sixteen years, after whom succeeded
Maximus, as is above specified. And thus much touching the full story
of Dionysius Alexandrinus, and of other also, martyrs and confessors
of Alexandria.

In Cesarea Palestine suffered also the same time Priscus, Malchus,
and Alexander, the which three dwelling in the country, and good men,
seeing the valiant courage of the Christians, so boldly to venture,
and constantly to stand, and patiently to suffer in this persecution,
as men being grieved with themselves, began to repent and accuse
their so great sluggishness and cowardly negligence, to see others so
zealous and valiant, and themselves so cold and faint-hearted, in
labouring for the crown of Christian martyrdom; and first consulting
and agreeing with themselves, they came to Cesarea, and there
stepping to the judge, declared themselves what they were, and
obtained the end they came for, being given to the wild beasts. After
which manner also, and in the same city of Cesarea, a certain woman,
whose name Eusebius expresseth not, who had been before of the sect
of Marcion, was brought before the president, and likewise obtained
the same martyrdom.

Neither was the city of Carthage all this while free from the stroke
of this persecution, if credit should be given to the speculative
glass of Vincentius, who, citing it out of Hugo, recordeth of three
hundred martyrs, of which three hundred martyrs the story saith thus:
that the president setting before them coals and incense to do
sacrifice by a lime kiln, which was there near at hand, offered unto
them this condition, either to set incense to the coals for sacrifice
to Jupiter, or else to go into the furnace of lime; whereupon they
all together with a general motion suddenly rushed into the kiln, and
there with the dusty smoke of the lime were smothered.

In Africa also, in the city of Tuburba, the said Vicentius, out of
the Martyrology, inferreth mention of three constant virgins, Maxima,
Donatilla, and Secunda; who, in the persecution of this Valerian and
Gallienus, first had given for their drink vinegar and gall, then
with scourges were tried, after that upon the gibbet were tormented
and rubbed with lime, then were scorched upon the fiery gridiron, at
last were cast to the wild beasts; who, being not touched of them,
finally with the sword were beheaded.

In Simela, a city in Italy, under the Alps, one Pontius, being there
apprehended, by the commandment of Claudius the president, was hanged
first upon the rack, then was cast to the wild beasts, of whom he
being nothing hurt, was after committed to the fire; and, finally,
not touched therewith, (if the story of Vincentius be true,) was
beheaded by the river's side, and his body thrown into the flood;
where, immediately the same hour, the foresaid Claudius, with his
assistant Anabius, were taken with wicked spirits, by whom they were
so miserably vexed, that they bit off their tongues, and died.

Zenon, bishop of Verona, is said also in the same persecution to
sustain martyrdom.

Moreover, in the same city of Alexandria aforesaid, Bergomensis in
his eighth book, writing of the story of Valerianus, emperor, maketh
mention of Philippus, bishop of the said see of Alexandria, who (as
he saith) was under the said Valerian beheaded. But that is not to be
found in any approved story, nor standeth it with the truth of time
that any such Philip was then bishop of Alexandria, or any other,
except only Dionysius. After whom next succeeded Maximus, who
remained eighteen years, and after him Theonas, &c. So that, by the
ancient records of old writers, it appeareth not that Philippus or
any other of that name was bishop of Alexandria during this time
signified by Bergomensis.

Although in some other later writers, as Equilinus, Antoninus, and
Bergomensis, I find a certain history of one Philippus, president of
Alexandria, about the same time of Valerian and Gallienus, elected by
the emperor and senate of Rome to govern those quarters, where he was
at length converted to the Christian faith, and after made priest, or
bishop (as they say) of Alexandria; but that not to be so the
testimony of ancient writers doth manifest. The history of this
Philippus, witnessed in our later chronicles, is this: Philippus
being promoted to the presidentship of Alexandria, came down with his
wife Claudia, and his two sons, Avitus and Sergius, and with his
daughter, named Eugenia; of the which Eugenia a long history full of
strange and prodigious miracles is written of Antoninus and others,
whereof many things I will cut off, and briefly touch the effect of
the story, leaving to the judgment of the reader the credit of mine
authors, as he shall see cause.

This Eugenia, daughter of Philippus, being of singular beauty, and
diligently brought up by her parents in the study of science and
learning, was by occasion of hearing Christians reduced and brought
up to Christianity, with two other eunuchs, her school-fellows,
called Prothus and Hiacinthus; with whom she taking counsel, upon
occasion (whether to avoid the danger of persecution, or refusing to
marry with a pagan) unknown to her parents and friends, did fly away;
and because the more boldly she might resort to hear the readings of
Helenus, then an aged bishop, and of others, she changed herself into
man's apparel, and named herself Eugenius, under the which name she
was at length admitted unto a certain monastery, or a society of
Christians in the suburbs of Alexandria, (although I hardly believe
that any monastery of Christians was then in the suburbs of
Alexandria permitted,) where also, at the last, for her excellency of
learning and virtue, she was made head of the place.

Here, by the way, I omit the miracles of the foresaid Helenus, bishop
(as the story saith) of Hieropolis; how he carried burning coals in
his lap, and how he adventured himself to go in the burning fire, to
refel wicked Zereas, a pagan, remaining in the same unburned. Here
also I omit the careful search of her parents for her, and of the
answer of the Pythoness again unto them, that she was taken up to
heaven among the goddesses. I omit moreover the miracles done by the
said Eugenia, in healing the diseases and sicknesses of such as came
to her, &c. The story proceedeth thus: Among others which were by
this Eugenius cured and restored, there was a certain matron of
Alexandria, named Melancia; who, after she had used the help and
acquaintance of Eugenius, supposing her to be a man, fell into an
inordinate love of her, seeking by all means how to accomplish the
lust of her concupiscence. Insomuch that in her daily visiting of
her, at length she began secretly to break her mind, and to entice
her to her lewdness. Eugenius contrarily exhorted her to virtue and
honesty, showing her the miseries of this life, and the peril of that
folly. Melancia seeing that by no means she would be allured, nor by
force drawn to her desire, and fearing moreover that she, in
detecting of her, would bring her to shame, beginneth first to make
an outcry of Eugenius, declaring how that she went about corruptly to
deflour her; and so presented her accusation before Philippus the
president, as well against Eugenius, as also against the rest of that
company. This matter being heard, and the woman well known, the crime
began to seem suspicious, and so much the more, because it was
objected against the Christians. By reason whereof Eugenius with her
fellow Christians was now not only in great hatred, but also in
danger of present death and destruction. Then Eugenius purging
herself and her honesty, although with sufficient probation, yet,
notwithstanding, perceiving that whatsoever she said could take no
place, and seeing no time now dissemble any longer, for the danger as
well of her own self, as specially of her brethren, which troubled
her more; she desired of the judge place and time to make manifest to
him the truth, and so showed herself what she was, and how she was
his daughter, the other to be Prothus and Hiacinthus, the two
eunuchs, her school-fellows, uttering, moreover, to him and to her
brethren, the cause of her departing from them. At the narration
whereof, Philippus her father, and her two brethren, coming to the
knowledge of her, conceived no little joy, in receiving their Eugenia
again, whom they thought had been lost. No less gladness was among
the people, to see the evidence of the matters so plainly to try out
the truth of the one, and the falseness of the other. Whereat the
malig nant accuser was with double shame confounded, first for her
dishonesty falsely cloaked, secondly for the untruth of her
accusation openly detected. Bergomensis addeth, moreover, that the
said accuser was stricken presently with lightning. Thus Eugenia,
trying her honesty to her parents and friends, was not only received
of them again, but also, by the grace of the Lord working with her,
in the space of time did win them to Christ. Whereby Philippus, the
father of her by nature, now by grace was begotten of his own
daughter to a more perfect life; and whom once he thought to have
been lost, not only he found again, but also with her found his own
soul and his own life, which before he had lost indeed. This
Philippus (saith the story) was made afterward bishop of Alexandria,
and there suffered martyrdom. Concerning whose martyrdom I deny not
but it may be true; but that he was bishop of Alexandria, that cannot
be admitted, as is before sufficiently proved out of Eusebius and
other ancient historians.

Likewise it is said, that Eugenia, after the martyrdom of her father,
returning to Rome with Prothus and Hiacinthus, by occasion of
converting Basilla (who should have been married to a pagan husband,
and was then beheaded) to the Christian faith, was assailed with
sundry kinds of death: first being tied to a great stone and cast
into Tiber, where she was carried up from drowning; then put in the
hot baths, which were extinguished, and she preserved; afterward by
famishment in prison, where they say she was fed at the hand of our
Saviour: all which legendary miracles I leave to the reader to judge
of them as shall seem good unto him. At last the story saith she was
with the sword beheaded.

And because in this present history mention was made of Helenus, whom
Antoninus with his fellows noteth to be the bishop of Hieropolis,
here is to be understood and observed, by the way, that as Philippus
in the foresaid history is falsely said to be bishop of Alexandria,
so likewise untrue it is that Helenus was bishop of Hieropolis. For
by Eusebius it appeareth, alleging the words of Dionysius, that he
was bishop of Tarsus in Cilicia, and had there oversight of that
church from the time of our Lord God two hundred fifty and four, to
the year of our redemption two hundred seventy and four.

Aurelius Prudentius inferreth mention of Fructuosus. bishop of
Tarraconia in Spain, who, with his two deacons. Augurius and
Eulogius, suffered also martyrdom, being burned after six days'
imprisonment under the foresaid emperors in this persecution. The
cause of their punishment was for the profession of Christ's name;
their judge and condemner was Emilianus; their imprisonment endured
six days; the kind of death ministered unto them was fire; wherein
they being all together cast with their arms bound behind them, their 
bands (as Prudentius writeth) were dissolved. their hands untouched
with the fire, and their bodies remaining whole. The charge of this
judge unto the bishop was this, that he should worship the gods whom
the emperor Gallienus worshipped. To whom Fructuosus the bishop
answering, Nay, (saith he,) I worship no dumb god of stocks and
blocks, whom Gallienus doth worship; but I worship the Lord and
Master of Gallienus, the Father and Creator of all times, and his
only Son sent down to us. of whose flock I am here the pastor and
shepherd. At this word Emilianus answering again, Nay, (saith he,)
say not thou art, but say thou wast. And forth with commanded them to
be committed to the fire, where (as is said) their hands and manacles
being loosed by the fire, they lifted up their hands to heaven,
praising the living God, to the great admiration of them that stood
by; praying also that the element, which seemed to fly from them,
might work his full force upon them, and speedily despatch them,
which was after their request obtained. In mean space, as they were
in the fire, there was a certain soldier in the house of Emilianus,
who did see the heavens above to open, and these foresaid martyrs to
enter into the same, which soldier likewise showed the sight the same
time unto the daughter of Emilianus the president, who, beholding the
same sight with the soldier, was a present witness of the blessedness
of them whom her cruel father had condemned.

As this godly bishop was preparing to his death, (saith Prudentius,)
the brethren approaching to him brought him drink, desiring him with
much weeping to receive and drink with them; but that he refused to
do, requiring them, moreover, to refrain their tears. With like
readiness the brethren also were diligent about him to pluck off his
shoes and hose, as he was addressing himself to the fire; but neither
would he suffer any servants' help in that wherein he was no less
willing than able to help himself. And thus this blessed and fruitful
bishop Fructuosus, with his two deacons, Augurius and Eulogius, being
brought to the fire, witnessed the constant confession of the name of
Christ, with the shedding of their blood.

And thus far continued wicked Valerian in his tyranny against the
saints of Christ. But as all the tyrants before, and oppressors of
the Christians, had their deserved reward at the just hand of God,
which rendereth to every man according to his works; so this cruel
Valerian, after he had reigned with his son Gallienus the term of six
or seven years, and about two years had afflicted the church of
Christ, felt the just stroke of his hand, whose indignation before he
had provoked, whereof we have to witness Eutropius, Pollio,
Sabellicus, Volateranus: for making his expedition against the
Persians, whether by the fraud and treason of some about him, or
whether by his own rashness, it is doubtful; but this is certain,
that he fell into the hands of his enemies, being about the age of
fourscore years, where he led his wretched age in a more wretched
captivity. Insomuch that Sapores, the king of the Persians, used him,
(and well worthy,) not for his riding-fool, but for his riding-block;
for whenso ever the king should light upon his horse openly in the
sight of the people, Valerian, emperor, was brought forth instead of
a block, for the king to tread upon his back in going to his
horseback. And so continued this blockish, butcherly emperor with
shame and sport enough unto his final end, as witnesseth Letus and
Aurelius Victor.

Albeit Eusebius, in a certain sermon to the congregation, declareth a
more cruel handling of him, affirming that he was slain, writing in
these words: "And thou, Valerian, forsomuch as thou hast exercised
the same crudelity in murdering of the subjects of God, therefore
hast proved unto us the righteous judgment of God, in that thyself
hast been bound in chains, and carried away for a captive slave with
thy gorgeous purple and thy imperial attire; and at length, also,
being commanded of Sapores, king of the Persians, to be slain, and
powdered with salt, hast set up unto all men a perpetual monument of
thine own wretchedness," &c.

The like severity of God's terrible judgment is also to be noted in
Claudius, his president, and minister of his persecutions. Of which
Claudius Henricus de Erfordia thus writeth: that he was possessed and
vexed of the devil in such sort, that he, biting off his own tongue
in many small pieces, so ended his life.

Neither did Gallienus, the son of Valerian, after the captivity of
his father, utterly escape the righteous hand of God; for beside the
miserable captivity of his father, whom he could not rescue, such
portents, strange and out of the course of nature, such earthquakes
did happen, also such tumults, commotions, and rebellions did follow,
that Trebellio doth reckon up to the number of thirty together,
which, in sundry places, all at one time, took upon them to be
tyrants and emperors over the monarchy of Rome, by the means whereof
he was not able to succour his father, though he would.
Notwithstanding, the said Gallienus, being (as is thought) terrified
by the example of his father, did remove. at least did moderate, the
persecution stirred up by the edicts of Valerian his father,
directing forth his imperial proclamation, the tenor whereof
proceedeth after this effect, as is to be seen in Eusebius, lib. vii.
cap. 13: "Emperor and Cæsar, Publius Licinius, Gallienus, Pius,
Fortunatus, Augustus, unto Dionysius, to Pinna, and to Demetrian, and
to all other the like bishops. The bountiful benignity of my gift I
have willed and commanded to be proclaimed through the whole world,
to the intent that such which are detained in banishment for
discipline sake may safely return home again from whence they came;
and for the same cause I have here sent to you the example of my
rescript for you to peruse and to enjoy, so that no man be so hardy
to vex or molest you; and this, which you may now lawfully enjoy,
hath been long since by me granted. And therefore, for your more
warrant in the same, I have committed the exemplar hereof to the
custody of Aurelianus Cirenius, my chief steward, where you may fetch
the copy to see at your pleasure."

This mandate above prefixed did Gallienus send to Dionysius
Alexandrinus, and other bishops, as is premised. Another rescript
also the said emperor sent to other Christian bishops, permitting to
them full liberty to receive again their wonted places where they
were wont to associate together.

By this it may appear, that some peace was granted then under this
Gallienus to the church of Christ; albeit not so, but that some there
were which suffered, of whom was one Marinus, mentioned in Eusebius.
This Marinus being a warrior, and a nobleman in Cesarea, stood for
the dignity of a certain order, which by all order of course was next
to fall upon him by right, had not the envious ambition of him that
should follow next after him supplanted him both of office and life;
for he accused him to be a Christian, and thereforesaid that he was
not to be admitted unto their offices, which was against their
religion. Whereupon Achaius, then being judge, examined him of his
faith; who, finding him to he a Christian indeed, and constantly to
stand to his profession, gave him three hours to deliberate and
advise with himself. There was the same time in Cesarea a bishop
named Theotechnus, otherwise called Theodistus, who, perceiving him
to stand in doubtful deliberation and perplexity in himself, took him
by the hand and brought him into the house or church of the
Christians, laying before him a sword (which he had under his cloak
for the same purpose) and a book of the New Testament, and so willed
hit to take his free choice which of them both he would prefer. The
soldier immediately, without delay, ran to the book of the gospel,
taking that before the sword. And thus he, being animated by the
bishop, presented himself bodily before the judge, by whose sentence
he was beheaded, and died a martyr.

Whose body, being dead, one Asyrius, a noble senator of Rome, and a
man very wealthy among the chief of that order, (who in the same time
was there present at his martyrdom,) took up and bare upon his own
shoulders, wrapping it in a rich and sumptuous weed, and so
honourably committed it to the burial.

Of which Asyrius the said author writeth moreover this story: how
that in the foresaid city of Cesarea, the Gentiles used thereof an
ancient custom to offer up a certain sacrifice by a fountain side,
the which sacrifice by the working of the devil was wont suddenly to
vanish out of their eyes, to the great admiration of the inhabiters
by. Asyrius seeing this, and pitying the miserable error of the
simple people, lifting up his eyes to heaven, made his prayer to
Almighty God in the name of Christ, that the people might not be
seduced of the devil any longer; by the virtue of whose prayer the
sacrifice was seen to swim in the water of the fountain; and so the
strange wonder of that sight was taken away, and no such matter could
be there wrought any more.

And because mention is made here of Cesarea, there followeth in the
next chapter of the same author a strange miracle, if it be true,
which he there reporteth; how that out of the same city was the woman
which in the Gospel came to our Saviour, and was healed of her bloody
issue, her house being in the city of Cesarea. Before the door
thereof was set up a certain pillar of stone, and upon the pillar an
image was made of brass, of a woman meekly kneeling on her knees, and
holding up her hands as one that had some suit. Against the which
there was another image also of a man proportioned of the same metal,
cunningly engraven in a short seemly vesture, and stretching forth
his hand to the woman. At the foot of which pillar grew up a certain
herb of a strange kind, but of a more strange operation, which
growing up to the hem of his vesture, and once touching the same, is
said to have such virtue, that it was able to cure all manner of
diseases. This picture of the man (they say) represented the image of
Christ. The history is written in Eusebius, as is said; the credit
whereof I refer to the reader, whether he will think it true or
false. If he think it false, yet I have showed him mine author: if he
think it true, then must he think withal that this miraculous
operation of the herb proceeded neither by the virtue of the picture,
nor by the prayer of the other, being both dumb pictures, and
engraven no doubt at that time by the hand of infidels; but to be
wrought by some secret permission of God's wisdom, either to reduce
the infidels at that time to the belief of the story, or to admonish
the Christians to consider with themselves what strength and health
was to be looked for only of Christ and no other advocate; seeing the
dumb picture, engraven in brass, gave his efficacy to a poor herb to
cure so many diseases. This picture (saith Eusebius) remained also to
his time, which was under Constantinus the Great.

As touching the line and order of the Roman bishops hitherto
intermitted, after the martyrdom of Xistus above specified, the
government of that church was committed next to one Dionysius, about
the year of our Lord two hundred sixty and six; who continued in the
same the space of nine years, as Eusebius saith; as Damasus
recordeth, but only six years and two months. Of his decretal
epistles, because sufficient hath been said before concerning that
matter, I omit to speak. After whom succeeded Felix, in the first
year of Probus the emperor, about the year of our Lord two hundred
and eighty, who governed that church five years, and died, as Platina
saith, a martyr. After him followed Eutychianus, and then Gaius, both
martyrs, as the histories of some do record.

About the time of these bishops lived Theodorus, bishop of
Neocesarea, who is otherwise called Gregorius Magnus.

Thus Gallienus, the foresaid emperor, reigned, as is declared, with
his father Valerian seven years, after whose captivity he ruled the
monarchy alone about nine years, with some peace and quietness
granted to the church.

The days of this Gallienus being expired, followed Claudius, a quiet
emperor, as most stories do record. Although Vincentius affirmeth
that he was a mover of persecution against the Christians, and maketh
mention of two hundred sixty and two martyrs, which in his time did
suffer; but because no such record remaineth to be found in Eusebius,
who would not have omitted some memorial thereof, if it had been
true, therefore I refer the same to the free judgment of the reader,
to find such credit as it may. This Claudius reigned but two years,
after whom came Quintilianus his brother, next emperor, and a quiet
prince, who continued but only seventeen days, and had to his
successor Aurelianus; under whom Orosius in his seventh book doth
number the ninth persecution against the Christians.

Hitherto, from the captivity of Valerian, the church of Christ was in
some quietness till the death of Quintilianus, as hath been declared;
after whom Aurelianus, the next successor, possessed the crown; who
in the first beginning of his reign (after the common manner of all
princes) showed himself a prince moderate and discreet, much worthy
of commendation, if his good beginning had continued in a constant
course agreeing to the same. Of nature he was severe, and rigorous in
correcting, dissolute in manners; insomuch as it was said of him in a
vulgar proverb, that he was a good physician, saving that he gave too
bitter medicines. This emperor being sick, never sent for physician,
but cured himself with abstinence; and as his beginning was not
unfruitful to the commonwealth, so neither was he any great disturber
of the Christians, whom he did not only tolerate in their religion,
but also in their counsels; and they being the same time assembled at
Antioch, he seemed not to be against them. Notwithstanding in
continuance of time, through sinister motion and instigation of
certain about him, (as commonly such are never absent in all places
from the ears of princes,) his nature, somewhat inclinable to
severity, was altered to a plain tyranny; which tyranny first he
showed, beginning with the death of his own sister's son, as
witnesseth Eutropius. After that he proceeded either to move, or at
least to purpose, persecution against the Christians; albeit that
wicked purpose of the emperor the merciful working of God's hand did
soon overthrow. For as the edict or proclamation should have been
denounced for the persecuting of the Christians, and the emperor now
ready to subscribe the edict with his hand, the mighty stroke of the
hand of the Lord suddenly from above did stop his purpose, binding
(as a man might say) the emperor's hands behind him, declaring (as
Eusebius saith) to all men, how there is no power to work any
violence against the servants of God, unless his permission do suffer
them, and give them leave. Eutropius and Vopiscus affirm, that as the
said Aurelianus was purposing to raise persecution against us, he was
suddenly terrified with lightning, and so stopped from his wicked
tynmny. Not long after, about the fifth or sixth year of his reign,
he was slain between Bisance and Hieraclea, in the year of our Lord
two hundred seventy and eight. Thus Aurelianus rather intended than
moved persecution. Neither is there any more than this found
concerning this persecution in ancient histories and records of the
church; where fore I marvel the more that Vincentius, collecting out
of the martyrologies, hath comprehended such a great catalogue of so
many martyrs which in France and in Italy (saith he) suffered death
and torments under this emperor Aurelianus; whereunto Orosius also
seemeth to agree in numbering this to be the ninth persecution under
the said Aurelian.

Next after Aurelianus the succession of the empire fell to Publius
Annius Tacitus, who reigned but six months; him succeeded his brother
Florianus, who reigned but threescore days; and after him followed
Marcus Aurelius, surnamed Probus. Of whom more hereafter (God
willing) shall appear.

In the mean time, within the compass of these emperors falleth in a
story recorded of Eusebius, and not unworthy here to be noted,
whereby to understand the faithful diligence of good ministers, what
good it may do in a commonwealth.

Mention is made before of Eusebius, the deacon of Dionysius, whom God
stirred up to visit and comfort the saints that were in prison and
bonds, and to bury the bodies of the blessed martyrs departed, not
without great peril of his own life, who after was made bishop (as is
said) of Laodicea. But before he came to Laodicea to be bishop there,
it chanced, the said Eusebius remaining as yet at Alexandria, the
city to be besieged of the Romans, Pyruchius being their captain. In
which siege half of the city did hold with the Romans, the other half
withstood them. In that part which went with the Roman captain was
Eusebius, being also in great favour with the captain, for his worthy
fidelity and service showed: with the other half that resisted the
Romans was Anatholius, governor or moderator then of the school of
Alexandria, who also was bishop, after the said Eusebius, of
Laodicea. This Anatholius, perceiving the citizens to be in miserable
distress of famine and destruction, by reason of penury and lack of
sustenance, sendeth to Eusebius, being then with the Romans, and
certifieth him of the lamentable penury and peril of the city,
instructing him, moreover, what to do in the matter. Eusebius,
understanding the case, repaireth to the captain, desiring of him so
much favour, that so many as would fly out of the city from their
enemies might be licensed to escape and freely to pass, which was to
him speedily granted. As Eusebius was thus labouring with the
captain, on the other side Anatholius for his part laboured with the
citizens, moving them to assemble together, and persuading them to
give themselves over, in yielding to the force and might of the
Romans. But when the citizens could not abide the hearing thereof;
Yet (said Anatholius) with this I trust you will be contented, if I
shall counsel you in this miserable lack of things to avoid out of
your city all such superfluities and unnecessary impediments unto
you, as old women, young children, aged men, with such other as be
feeble and impotent, and not to suffer them here to perish with
famine, whose presence can do no stead to you if they die, and less
if they live, for spending the victuals which otherwise might serve
them that be more able to defend the city. The senate hearing this
sentence, and understanding moreover the grant of the captain
promising them their safety, were well consenting thereunto. Then
Anatholius, having a special care to them that belonged to the church
of Christ, calleth them together with the rest of the multitude, and
persuading them what they should do, and what had been obtained for
them, caused them to void the city, and not only them, but also a
great number of other more; who persuaded by him under that pretence,
changing themselves in women's apparel, or feigning some impotency,
so escaped out of the city. At whose coming out, Eusebius on the
other side was ready to receive them, and refreshed their hungry and
pined bodies, whereby not only they, but the whole city of
Alexandria, was preserved from destruction.

By this little history of Eusebius and Anatholius, described in the
seventh book of Eusebius, chap. 32, and briefly here set forth to
thee, (gentle reader,) thou mayst partly understand the practice of
the prelates, what it was in those days in the church, which was then
only employed in saving of life, and succouring the commonwealths
wherein they lived, as by these two godly persons Eusebius and
Anatholius may well appear. Unto the which practice, if we compare
the practice of our later prelates of the Church of Rome, I suppose
no little difference will appear.

The next emperor to Florianus (as is said) was Marcus Aurelius
Probus, a prince both wise and virtuous, and no less valiant in
martial affairs than fortunate in the success of the same. During his
time we read of no persecution greatly stirring in the church, but
much quietness, as well in matters of religion as also in the
commonwealth. Insomuch that, after his great and many victories, such
peace infused, that his saying was, there needed no more soldiers,
seeing there were no more enemies to the Commonwealth to fight
against. It was his saying also, that his soldiers need not to spend
corn and victual, except they laboured to serve the commonwealth. And
for the same cause he caused his soldiers to be set a-work about
certain mountains in Smyrna and in Messia to be planted with vines,
and not so much as in winter suffered them to be at rest; therefore
by them at length he was slain, in the year of our Lord two hundred
eighty and two.

Carus, with his two sons, Carinus and Numerianus, succeeded next
after Probus in the empire; the reign of which emperors continued in
all but three years. Of the which three, first Carus, warring against
the Persians, was slain with lightning. Of Numerianus his son, being
with his father in his wars against the Persians, we find much
commendation in Eutropius, Vopiscus, and other writers, which
testified him to be a valiant warrior, and an eloquent orator, as
appeared by his declamations and writings sent to the senate;
thirdly, to be an excellent poet. This Numerianus, sorrowing and
lamenting for the death of his father, through immoderate weeping,
fell into a great soreness of his eyes; by reason whereof he, keeping
close, was slain not long after of his father-in-law, named Aper;
who, traitorously aspiring to the empire, dissembled his death with a
false excuse to the people asking for him, saying, For the pain of
his eyes he kept in from the wind and weather; till at length, by the
stench of his body being carried about, his death was uttered.

In the Life of this emperor Carus aforesaid, written by Eutropius, in
the later edition, set forth by Frobenius, I find (which in other
editions of Eutropius doth not appear) that Numerianus, the son of
this Carus, was he that slew Babylas, the holy martyr, whose history
before we have comprehended. But that seemeth not to be like, both by
the narration of Chrysostom, and also for that Urspergensis,
declaring the same history, and in the same words as it is in
Eutropius, saith that it was Cyrillus whom Numerianus killed, the
story whereof is this: What time Carus the emperor, in his journey
going toward the Persians, remained at Antioch, Numerianus his son
would enter into the church of the Christians, to view and behold
their mysteries. But Cyrillus their bishop would in nowise suffer him
to enter into the church, saying that it was not lawful for him to
see the mysteries of God, who was polluted with sacrifices of idols.
Numerianus, full of indignation at the hearing of these words, not
suffering that repulse at the hands of Cyrifius, in his fury did slay
the godly martyr. And therefore justly (as it seemed) was he himself
slain afterward by the hands of Aper.

Thus Carus with his son Numerianus being slain in the east parts, as
is declared, Carinus, the other son, reigned alone in Italy; where he
overcame Sabinus striving for the empire, and reigned there with much
wickedness, till the returning home of the army again from the
Persians, who then set up Dioclesian to be emperor; by whom the
foresaid Carinus, for the wickedness of his life, being forsaken of
his host, was overcome, and at length slain with the hand of the
tribune, whose wife before he had defloured. Thus Carus with his two
sons, Numerianus and Carinus, ended their lives, whose reign
continued not above three years.

All this mean space we read of no great persecution stirring in the
church of Christ, but it was in mean quiet state and tranquillity
unto the nineteenth year of the reign of Dioclesian; so that in
counting the time from the latter end of Valerian unto this aforesaid
year of Dioclesian, the peace of the church; which God gave to his
people, seemeth to continue above four and forty years. During the
which time of peace and tranquillity the church of the Lord did
mightily increase and flourish; so that the more bodies it lost by
persecution, the more honour and reverence it won daily among the
Gentiles in all quarters, both Greeks and barbarous; insomuch that
(as Eusebius in his seventh book describeth) amongst the emperors
themselves divers there were which not only bare singular good will
and favour to them of our profession, but also did commit unto them
offices and regiments over countries and nations; so well were they
affected to our doctrine, that they privileged the same with liberty
and indemnity. What needeth to speak of them which not only lived
under the emperors in liberty, but also were familiar in the court
with the princes themselves, entertained with great honour and
special favour beyond the other servitors of the court As was
Dorotheus, with his wife, children, and whole family, highly accepted
and advanced in the palace of the emperor; also Gorgonius in like
manner with divers others more, who, for their doctrine and learning
which they professed, were with their princes in great estimation. In
like reverence also were the bishops of cities and diocesses with the
presidents and rulers where they lived; who not only suffered them to
live in peace, but also had them in great price and regard, so long
as they kept themselves upright, and continued in God's favour. Who
is able to number at that time the might and innumerable multitudes
and congregations assembling together in every city, and the notable
concourses of such as daily flocked to the common oratories to pray?
For the which cause they, being not able to be contained in their old
houses, had large and great churches, new builded from the
foundation, for them to frequent together. In such increasement
(saith Eusebius) by process of time did the church of Christ grow and
shoot up daily more and more, profiting and spreading through all
quarters, which neither envy of men could infringe, nor any devil
could enchant, neither the crafty policy of man's wit could supplant,
so long as the protection of God's heavenly arm went with his people,
keeping them in good order, according to the rule of Christian life.

But as commonly the nature of all men, being of itself unruly and
untoward, always seeketh and desireth prosperity, and yet can never
well use prosperity; always would have peace, and yet having peace
always abuseth the same; so here likewise it happened with these men,
which through this so great liberty and prosperity of life began to
degenerate and languish unto idleness and delicacy, and one to work
spite and contumely against another, striving and contending amongst
themselves, for every occasion, with railing words after most
despiteful manner; bishops against bishops, and people against
people, moving hatred and sedition one against another, besides also
cursed hypocrisy and simulation with all extremity increasing more
and more. By reason whereof the judgment of God, after his wonted
manner, (whilst yet the congregation began to multiply,) began by a
little and a little to visit our men with persecution, falling first
upon our brethren which were abroad in warfare; but when that touched
the other nothing or very little, neither did they seek to appease
God's wrath and call for his mercy; but wickedly thinking with
ourselves, that God neither regarded nor would visit our
transgressions, we heaped our iniquities daily more and more one upon
another; and they which seemed to be our pastors, refusing the rule
of piety, were inflamed with mutual contentions one against another.
And thus, whilst they were given only to the study of contentions,
threatenings, emulations, mutual hatred and discord, every man
seeking his own ambition, and persecuting one another after the
manner of tyranny; then, then, I say, the Lord, according to the
voice of Jeremy, took away the beauty of the daughter of Zion, and
the glory of Israel fell down from heaven, neither did he remember
the footstool of his feet in the day of his wrath. And the Lord
overturned all the comely ornaments of Israel, and destroyed all her
gorgeous buildings, and, according to the saying of the Psalm,
subverted and extinguished the testament of his servant, and profaned
his sanctuary in destruction of his churches, and in laying waste the
buildings thereof, so that all passengers spoiling the multitude of
the people, they were made an obloquy to all the dwellers about. For
he exalted the strength of his enemies, and turned away the help of
his sword from her, nor aided her in the battle, but ceased from the
purging of her and her seat. He struck down to the ground and
diminished her days, and over all this poured upon her confusion. All
these things were fulfilled upon us, when we saw the temples razed
from the top to the ground, and the sacred Scriptures to be burnt in
the open market-place, and the pastors of the church to hide
themselves, some here, some there; some other, taken prisoners, with
great shame were mocked of their enemies; when also, according to the
saying of the prophet in another place, contempt was poured out upon
the princes, and they caused to go out of the way, and not to keep
the straight path.



11. THE TENTH PERSECUTION UNDER DIOCLESIAN

By reason whereof (the wrath of God being kindled against his church)
ensued the tenth and last persecution against the Christians, so
horrible and grievous, that it maketh the pen almost to tremble to
write upon it; so tedious, that never was any persecution before or
since comparable to it for the time it continued, lasting the space
of ten years together. This persecution, although it passed through
the hands of divers tyrants and workers more than one or two, yet
principally it beareth the name of Dioclesian, who was emperor, as is
above noted, next after Carus and Numerianus. This Dioclesian, ever
having an ambitious mind, aspired greatly to be emperor. To whom
Druas his concubine said, that first he should kill a wild boar
before he should be emperor. He, taking effect at these words, used
much with hands to kill wild boars; but seeing no success to come
thereof, he used this proverb, I kill the boars, but others do eat
the flesh. At length the said Dioclesian being nominated to be
emperor, and seeing Aper (who had killed Numerianus the emperor)
standing thereby, sware to the soldiers that Numerianus was
wrongfully killed, and forthwith running upon Aper with his sword
slew him. After this, he being stablished in the empire, and seeing
on every side divers and sundry commotions rising up against him,
which he was not well able himself to sustain, in the first beginning
of his reign he chooseth for his colleague Maximianus, surnamed
Herculius, father of Maxentius. Which two emperors, because of divers
wars that rose in many provinces, chose to them two other noblemen,
Galerius and Constantius, whom they called Caæsars. Of whom Galerius
was sent into the east parts against the Persians. Constantius was
sent over to Britain to this our country of England to recover the
tribute, where he took to wife Helena the daughter of king oill,
which was a maiden excelling in beauty, and no less famously brought
up in the study of learning, of whom was born Constantinus, the
Great.

All this while hitherto no persecution was yet stirred of these four
princes against the church of Christ, but quietly and moderately they
governed the commonwealth; wherefore accordingly God prospered their
doings and affairs, and gave them great victories; Dioclesian in
Egypt, Maximian in Africa and in France, Galerius in Persia,
Constantius in England and in France also. By reason of which
victories, Dioclesian and Maximian, puffed up in pride, ordained a
solemn triumph at Rome, after which triumph Dioclesian gave
commandment that he should be worshipped as God, saying that he was
brother to the sun and moon; and, adorning his shoes with gold and
precious stones, commanded the people to kiss his feet.

And not long after, by the judgment of God, for certain enormities
used in the church, above touched, began the great and grievous
persecution of the Christians, moved by the outrageous cruelty of
Dioclesian, which was about the nineteenth year of his reign, who in
the month of March, when the feast of Easter was nigh at hand,
commanded all the churches of the Christians to be spoiled and cast
to the earth, and the books of Holy Scripture to be burned.

Thus most violent edicts and proclamations were set forth, for the
overthrowing, as is said, of the Christians' temples throughout all
the Roman empire. Neither did there want in the officers any cruel
execution of the same proclamations. For their temples were defaced
even when they celebrated the feast of Easter. And this was the first
edict given out by Dioclesian. The next proclamation that came forth
was for the burning of the books of the Holy Scripture; which thing
was done in the open market-place, as before. Then next unto that
were edicts given forth for the displacing of such as were
magistrates, and that with great ignominy, and all other whoever bare
any office, imprisoning such as were of the common sort, if they
would not abjure Christianity, and subscribe to the heathen religion.
And these were the beginning of the Christians' evils.

It was not long after but that new edicts were sent forth, nothing
for their cruelty inferior to the rest, for the casting of the elders
and bishops into prison, and then constraining them, with sundry
kinds of punishments, to offer unto their idols. By reason whereof
ensued a great persecution amongst the governors of the church,
amongst whom many stood manfully, passing through many exceeding
bitter torments, neither were overcome therewith, being tormented and
examined divers of them diversely: some scourged all their bodies
over with whips and scourges; some with racks and raisings of the
flesh intolerable were cruciated; some one way, some another way, put
to death. Some again violently were drawn to the unpure sacrifice,
and, as though they had sacrificed, when indeed they did not, were
let go. Other some, neither coming at all to their altars, nor
touching any piece of their sacrifices, yet were borne in hand of
them that stood by that they had sacrificed, and so suffering that
false infamation of their enemies quietly went away; Other, as dead
men, were carried and cast away being but half dead. Some they cast
down upon the pavement, and trailing them a great space by the legs,
made the people believe that they had sacrificed. Furthermore, other
there were which stoutly withstood them, affirming with a loud voice
that they had done no such sacrifice. Of whom some said they were
Christians, and gloried in the profession of that name: some cried,
saying that neither they had nor would ever be partakers of that
idolatry; and those, being buffeted on the face and mouth with the
hands of the soldiers, were made to hold their peace, and so thrust
out with violence. And if the saints did seem never so little to do
what the enemies would have them, they were made much of; albeit all
this purpose of the adversary did nothing prevail against the holy
and constant servants of Christ Notwithstanding of the weak sort
innumerable there were which for fear and infirmity fell and gave
over, even at the first brunt.

At the first coming down of these edicts into Nicomedia, there
chanced a deed to be done much worthy of memory, of a Christian,
being a noble man born; which, moved by the zeal of God, after the
proclamation made at Nicomedia was set up, by and by ran and took
down the same, and openly tare and rent it in pieces, not fearing the
presence of the two emperors, then being in the city. For which act
he was put to a most bitter death, which death he with great faith
and constancy endured even to the last gasp.

After this the furious rage of the malignant emperors, being let
loose against the saints of Christ, proceeded more and more, making
havoc of God's people throughout all quarters of the world. First,
Dioclesian (who had purposed with himself to subvert the whole
Christian religion) executed his tyranny in the east, and Maximianus
in the west. But wily Dioclesian began very subtlely; for he put the
matter first in practice in his own camp, in which the marshal of the
field put the Christian soldiers to this choice, whether they would
obey the emperor's commandment in the manner of sacrifice he
commanded, and thus both keep their offices and lead their bands, or
else lay away from them their armour and weapons. Whereunto the
Christian men courageously answered, that they were not only ready to
lay away their armour and weapons, but also to suffer death, if it
should with tyranny be enforced upon them, rather than they would
obey the wicked decrees and commandments of the emperor.

There might a man have seen very many which were desirous to live a
simple and poor life, and which regarded no estimation and honour in
comparison of true piety and godliness. And this was no more but a
subtle and wily flattery in the beginning, to offer them to be at
their own liberty, whether they would willingly abjure their
profession or not; as also this was another, that in the beginning of
the persecution there were but a few tormented with punishment, but
afterward, by little and little, he began more manifestly to burst
out into persecution. It can hardly be expressed with words what
number of martyrs and what blood was shed throughout all cities and
regions for the name of Christ. Eusebius, in his eighth book and
seventh chapter, saith that he himself knew the worthy martyrs that
were in Palestina. But in Tyre of Phcenicia he declareth, in the
same, a marvellous martyrdom made; where certain Christians being
given to most cruel wild beasts, were preserved without hurt of them,
to the great admiration of the beholders; and those lions, bears, and
libards (kept hungry for that purpose) had no desire to devour them;
which notwithstanding most vehemently raged against those by whom
they were brought into the stage, who, standing as they thought
without danger of them, were first devoured. But the Christian
martyrs, because they could not be hurt of the beasts, being slain
with the sword, were afterward thrown into the sea. At that time was
martyred the bishop of Sidon. But Sylvanus, the bishop of Gazensis,
with nine and thirty others, were slain in the metal mines of
Phœnicia. Pamphilus, the elder of Cesarea, being the glory of that
congregation, died a most worthy martyr; whose both life and most
commendable martyrdom Eusebius oftentimes declareth in his eighth
book and thirteenth chapter, insomuch that he hath written the same
in a book by itself. In Syria all the chief teachers of the
congregation were first committed to prison, as a most heavy and
cruel spectacle to behold; as also the bishops, elders, and deacons,
which all were esteemed as men-killers, and perpetrators of most
wicked facts. After that we read of another, whose name was
Tirannion, which was made meat for the fishes of the sea; and of
Zenobius, which was a very good physician, which also was slain with
brickbats in the same place.

Furthermore, he maketh mention in the same place of others which were
not tormented to death, but every day terrified and feared without
ceasing; of some others that were brought to the sacrifices and
commanded to do sacrifice, which would rather thrust their right hand
into the fire than touch the profane or wicked sacrifice. Also of
some others that, before they were apprehended, would cast down
themselves from steep places, lest that being taken they should
commit any thing against their profession. Also of two virgins very
fair and proper, with their mother also, which had studiously brought
them up, even from their infancy, in all godliness, being long sought
for, and at the last found, and strictly kept by their keepers; who,
whilst they made their excuse to do that which nature required, threw
themselves down headlong into a river. Also of other two young
maidens, being sisters and of a worshipful stock, endued with many
goodly virtues, which were cast of the persecutors into the sea. And
these things were done at Antioch, as Eusebius in his eighth book and
thirteenth chapter affirmeth. But Sylvanus, the bishop of Emissa, the
notable martyr, together with certain others, was thrown to the wild
beasts.

Divers and sundry torments were the Christians in Mesopotamia
molested with; where they were hanged up by the feet, and their heads
downwards, and with the smoke of a small fire strangled; and also in
Cappadocia, where the martyrs had their legs broken.

Henricus de Erfordia maketh mention of the martyrs of Tharsus in
Cilicia, as Tharatus, Probus, and Andronicus; but yet the martyrs in
the region of Pontus suffered far more passing and sharper torments,
whereof I will hereafter make mention. So outrageous was the
beginning of the persecution which the emperor made in Nicomedia in
Bithynia, as is said before, that he refrained not from the slaughter
of the children of emperors, neither yet from the slaughter of the
most chief princes of his court, whom a little before he made as much
of as if they had been his own children. Such another was Peter,
which among divers and sundry torments (among whom he being naked was
lifted up, his whole body being so beaten with whips and torn, that a
man might see the bare bones; and after they had mingled vinegar and
salt together, they poured it upon the most tender parts of his body;
and lastly, roasted him at a soft fire, as a man would roast flesh to
eat) as a victorious martyr ended his life. Dorotheus and Gorgonius,
being in a great authority and office under the emperor, after divers
torments were strangled with a halter; both which being of the privy
chamber to him, when they saw and beheld the grievous punishment of
Peter their household companion, Wherefore, (say they,) O emperor, do
you punish in Peter that opinion which is in all us? Why is this
accounted in him an offence that we all confess? We are of that
faith, religion, and judgment that he is of. Therefore he commanded
them to be brought forth, and almost with like pains to be tormented
as Peter was, and afterwards hanged. After whom Anthimus, the bishop
of Nicomedia, after he had made a notable confession, bringing with
him a great company of martyrs, was beheaded. These men being thus
despatched, the emperor vainly thought that he might cause the rest
to do whatever him listed. To this end came Lucianus, the elder of
the congregation of Antioch, and was martyred, after he had made his
apology before the emperor.

ilermanus also, that monster, caused Serena, the wife of Dioelesian
the emperor, to be martyred for the Christian religion; so much did
the rage of persecution utterly forget all natural affects. Other
martyrs of Nicomedia doth Nicephorus in his seventh book and
fourteenth chapter recite, as Enlampius and Eulampia, Agape, Irenæus,
chief officer, were bound hand and foot to a post and burnt. And also
Eusebius mentioneth such another like matter full of horror and
grief. There assembled together in their temple many Christian men to
celebrate the memory of the nativity of Christ, of every age and sort
some. There Maximianus, thinking to have been given a very fit
occasion to execute his tyranny upon the poor Christians, sent
thither such as should burn the temple: the doors being shut and
closed round about, thither come they with fire; but first they
commanded the crier with a loud voice to cry, that whosoever would
have life should come out of the temple, and do sacrifice upon the
next altar of Jupiter they came to; and unless they would do this,
they should all be burnt with the temple. Then one, stepping up in
the temple, answered in the name of all the rest, with great courage
and boldness of mind, that they were all Christians, and believed
that Christ was their only God and King, and that they would do
sacrifice to him, with his Father and the Holy Ghost, and that they
were now all ready to offer unto him. With these words the fire was
kindled and compassed about the temple, and there were burnt of men,
women, and children certain thousands. There were also in Arabia very
many martyrs slain with axes. There was in Phrygia a city unto which
the emperor sent his edicts, that they should do sacrifice to the
gods and worship idols; all which citizens, the major himself, the
questor, and chief captain, confessed that they were all Christians.
The city upon this was besieged and set on fire, and all the people.
In Melitina, a region of Armenia, the bishops and elders were cast in
prison. In Arabrace, a region near adjoining to Armenia, Eustratius
was martyred. This Eustratius was that countryman born, and very
skilful in the Greek tongue, executing by the emperor's commandment
the sheriff's office at Lieia in the east, which also did execution
there upon the Christians, and was a scribe of great estimations.
This man, beholding the marvellous constancy of the martyrs, thirsted
with the desire of martyrdom, for that he had privily learned the
Christian religion. Therefore he, not abiding for other accusers,
detected himself, and worthily professed that he was a Christian,
openly execrating the madness and vanity of the wicked ethnics. He
therefore, being carried away, was tied up, being first most bitterly
beaten, After that he was parched with fire being put unto his
bowels, and then basted with salt and vinegar, and lastly so scourged
and bemangled with the shards of sharp and cutting shells, that his
whole body seemed to be all one continual wound; howbeit, by God's
great goodness, afterward it was restored to the first integrity.
After this he was carried away to Sebastia, where, with his companion
Orestes, he was burnt. At that time also suffered Eugenins,
Aurentius, Mardarius. And in no less wise raged this persecution
throughout all Egypt, where Eusebius in his eighth book and
thirteenth chapter maketh mention of Peleus and Nilus, martyrs, and
bishops in Egypt. But at Alexandria especially were declared most
notable conflicts of Christian and true constant martyrs that
suffered; which Phileas, the bishop of Thumitan, describeth, as after
(God willing) shall be declared. In this persecution of Alexandria,
the principal that then suffered was Peter, the bishop of Alexandria,
with the elders of the same, most worthy martyrs; as Faustus, Didius,
and Ammonius; also Phileas, Hesichius, Pachiminus, and Theodorus;
which all were bishops of the congregations within Egypt; and besides
them many other both famous and singular men. The whole legion of
Christian soldiers, which lay at Thebes in Egypt, under the Christian
captain Mauritius, when they would not obey the emperor's commandment
touching the worshipping of images, were tithed to death once, and
then again; and at last, through the exhortation of Mauritius, died
all together like constant martyrs. Likewise at Antino divers
Christian soldiers, notwithstanding they were seriously dissuaded,
suffered death together, among whom were Ascla, Philemon, and
Apollonius. And also in the other parts of Africa and Mauritania was
great persecution. Also in Sammium, of which place Chronicon maketh
mention, and Sieilia, where were seventy-nine martyrs slain for the
profession of Christ.

Now let us come unto Europe. Nicephorus in his seventh book and
fourteenth Chapter saith, that at Nicopolis in Thracia the martyrs
were in most miserable and pitiful wise handled, where Lisias had the
execution thereof. In Chalcedon suffered Euphernia under Priseus the
proconsul.

Henricus de Erfordia saith, that at Rome, Johannes and Crispus, being
priests, had the execution of martyrs. And at Bohemia, Agricola and
Vitalis. And at Aquileia the emperor commanded every man to kill the
Christians. And among those martyrs he maketh mention of Felices and
Fortunatus. Reginus also writeth that in other places of Italy the
persecution became great, as at Florentia, Per gamus, Naples,
Campania, Beneventus, at Venusa in Apulia, and in Thuscia. In France
doubtless Rectionarus, appointed to that office, played the cruel
hell-hound, of whose great cruelty against the Christians many
histories are full. At Mediolanus suffered Victor. And at Massilia
Maximianus set forth his decree, that either they should all do
sacrifice unto the gods of the Gentiles, or else be all slain with
divers kinds of torments; therefore many martyrs there died for the
glory of Christ. In Belnacus suffered Lucian.

Vincentius and Reginus write of many places in Spain where was great
persecution, as at Emerita, where suffered Eulalia, of whom more
followeth here after; and Adula, where also suffered Vincentius,
Sabina, and Christina. At Toletum suffered Lencadia the virgin; at
Cesarea Augusta, where were put to death eighteen, beside a great
number of other martyrs which snffered under Decianus the governor,
which afflicted with persecution all the coasts of Spain. The
foresaid Rectionarus made such persecution at Trevers, near the river
of Mosella, that the blood of the Christian men that were slain ran
like small brooks, and coloured great and main rivers. Neither yet
did this suffice him, but from thence he sent certain horsemen with
his letters, commanding them to ride into every place, and charge all
such as had taken and apprehended any Christians, that they should
immediately put them to death.

Also Henricus de Erfordia and Reginus make mention great persecution
to be at Colonia, where Agrippina and Augusta were martyred, as also
in the province of Rhetia.

Beda also saith that this persecution reached even unto the Britons,
in his book De Ratione Tentporum. And the Chronicle of Martinus and
the Nosegay of Time do declare, that all the Christians in Britain
were utterly destroyed; furthermore, that the kinds of death and
punishment were so great and horrible, as no man's tongue is able to
express. In the beginning, when the emperor by his subtlety and
wiliness rather dallied than showed his rigour, he threatened them
with bonds and imprisonment; but within a while, when he began to
work the matter in good earnest, he devised innumerable sorts of
torments and punishments; as whippings and scourgings, rackings,
horrible scrapings, sword, fire, and ship-boats, wherein a great
number being put were sunk and drowned in the bottom of the sea. Also
hanging them upon crosses, binding them to the bodies of dead trees
with their heads downward, hanging them by the middles upon gallows 
till they died for hunger, throwing them alive to such kind of wild
beasts as would devour them, as lions, bears, libards, and wild
bulls; pricking and thrusting them in with bodkins and talons of
beasts till they were almost dead; lifting them up on high with their
heads downward, even as in Thebaide they did unto the women being
naked and unclothed, one of their feet tied and lifted on high, and
so hanging down with their bodies, which thing to see was very
pitiful, with other devised sorts of punishments most tragical, or
rather tyrannical and pitiful, to describe: as, first, the binding of
them to trees, and to the boughs thereof; the pulling and tearing
asunder of their members and joints, being tied to the boughs and
arms of trees; the mangling of them with axes, the choking of them
with smoke by small and soft fires, the dismembering of their hands,
ears, and feet, with other joints; as the holy martyrs of Alexandria
suffered the scorching and broiling of them with coals, not unto
death, but everyday renewed. With such kind of torments the martyrs
at Antioch were afflicted. But in Pontus other horrible punishments,
and fearful to be heard, did the martyrs of Christ suffer; of which
some had their fingers' ends under the nails thrust in with sharp
bodkins; some all to be sprinkled with boiling lead, having their
most necessary members cut from them; some other suffering most
filthy, intolerable, and undurable torments and pains in their bowels
and privy members.

To conclude, how great the outrage of the persecution which reigned
in Alexandria was, and with how many and sundry kinds of new-devised
punishments the martyrs were afflicted, Phileas, the bishop of the
Thumitans, a man singularly well learned, hath described in his
epistle to the Thumitans, the copy whereof Eusebius hath in his
eighth book and tenth chapter, out of the which we mean here briefly
to recite somewhat. "Because (saith he) every man might torment the
holy martyrs as they listed themselves, some beat them with cudgels,
some with rods, some with whips, some with thongs, and some with
cords; and this example of beating was in sundry wise executed, and
with much cruelty. For some of them, having their hands bound behind
their backs, were lifted up upon timber logs, and with certain
instruments their members and joints were stretched forth, whereupon
their whole bodies hanging were subject to the will of the
tormentors, who were commanded to afflict them with all manner of
torments, and not on their sides only, (like as homicides were,) but
upon their bellies, thighs, and legs they scratched them with the
talons and claws of wild beasts. Some others were seen to hang by one
hand upon the engine, whereby they might feel the more grievous
pulling out of the rest of their joints and members. Some others were
in such sort bound unto pillars with their faces turned to the wall,
having no stay under their feet, and were violently weighed down with
the poise of their bodies, that by reason of their strict binding,
they being drawn out, might be more grievously tormented. And this
suffered they, not only during the time of their examination, and
while the sheriff had to do with them, but also the whole day long.
And whilst the judge went thus from one to another, he by his
authority appointed certain officers to attend upon those he left,
that they might not be let down until either through the
intolerableness of the pain, or by the extremity of cold, they being
near the point of death should be let down; and so were they haled
upon the ground. And further, they were commanded that they should
show not so much as one spark of mercy or compassion upon us; but so
extremely and furiously did they deal with us, as though our souls
and bodies should have died together. And therefore yet another
torment our adversaries devised to augment our former plagues. After
that they had most lamentably beaten them, they devised moreover a
new kind of rack, wherein they lying upright were stretched by both
the feet above the fourth stop or hole with sharp shells or shards
strewed under them, after a strange kind of engine to us here
unknown. Other some were cast down upon the pavement, where they were
oppressed so thick and so grievously with torments, that it is not
almost to be thought what afflictions they suffered.

" Thus lying in pains and torments, some died therewith, not a little
shaming and confounding their enemies by their singular patience.
Some half dead and half alive were thrust into prison, where shortly
after by pains and wounds of their bodies they ended their bitter
life. Some again, being cured of their wounds by their endurance in
prison, were more confirmed, who being put to the choice whe ther
they would come to their cursed sacrifice, and enjoy their wicked
liberty, or else sustain the sentence of death, did willingly and
without delay abide the extremity, remembering with themselves what
is written in the Scriptures. He that sacriceth (saith he) to strange
gods shall be exterminated, &c. Item, Thou shalt have no strange gods
beside me, &c." Thus much wrote Phileas to the congregation where he
was bishop, before he received the sentence of death, being yet in
bonds; and in the same he exhorteth his brethren constantly to
persist after his death in the truth of Christ professed.

Sabellicus in his seventh Ennead. and eighth book saith that that
christened man, which tore and pulled down the wicked edict of the
emperor in Nicomedia, being stripped and beaten that the bones
appeared, and after washed in salt and vinegar, was then slain with
this cruel kind of torment. But Platina writeth that Dorotheus and
Gorgonius exhorted him to die so constantly.

But as all their torments were for their horribleness marvellous and
notable, and therewithal so studiously devised, and no less grievous
and sharp; so notwithstanding, therewith were these martyrs neither
dismayed nor overcome, but rather thereby confirmed and strengthened;
so merrily and joyfully sustained they whatsoever was put unto them.
Eusebius saith, that he himself beheld and saw the huge and great
persecution that was done in Thebaide; insomuch that the very swords
of the hangmen and persecutors being blunt with the great and often
slaughter, they themselves for weariness sat down to rest them, and
others were fain to take their places. And yet all this
notwithstanding the murdered Christians showed their marvellous
readiness, willingness, and divine fortitude which they were endued
with; with stout courage, joy, and smiling receiving the sentence of
death pronounced upon them, and sung even unto the last gasp hymns
and psalms to God. So did also the martyrs of Alexandria, as
witnesseth Phileas above mentioned. The holy martyrs (saith he)
keeping Christ in their minds, being led with the love of better
rewards, sustained not only at one time whatsoever labour and devised
punishments they had to lay upon them; but now also the second time
have done the same, and have borne all the menaces of the cruel
soldiers, not only in words wherewith they threatened them, but also
whatsoever in deed and work they could devise to their destruction,
and that with most manly stomachs, excluding all fear, with the
perfection of their unspeakable love towards Christ, whose great
strength and fortitude cannot by words be expressed. And Sulpitius
saith in the second book of his Sacred History, that then the
Christians with more greedy desire pressed and sought for martyrdom
than now they do desire bishoprics.

Although some there were also, as I have said, that with fear and
threatenings, and by their own infirmities, were overcome and went
back; among whom Socrates nameth Miletius; and Athanasius in his
second Apology nameth the bishop of Licus, a city in Little Egypt,
whom Peter the bishop of Alexandria excommunicated, for that in this
persecution he sacrificed unto the Gentiles' gods. Of the fall of
Marcellinus, the bishop of Rome, I will speak afterwards; for he
being persuaded by others, and especially of the emperor Dioclesian
himself, did sacrifice, whereupon he was excommunicated; but
afterwards he repenting the same, was again received into the
congregation, and made martyr, as Platina and the compiler of the
book of the General Councils affirm. The number of the martyrs
increased daily; sometimes ten, sometimes twenty, were slain at once;
some whiles thirty, and often times threescore, and other whiles a
hundred in one day, men, women, and children, by divers kinds of
death. Also Damasus, Beda, Orosius, Honorius, and others do witness,
that there were slain in this persecution by the names of martyrs,
within the space of thirty days, seventeen thousand persons, besides
another great number and multitude that were condemned to the metal
mines and quarries with like cruelty.

At Alexandria with Peter the bishop, of whom I have made mention
before, were slain with axes three hundred and above, as Sabellieus
declareth. Gereon was beheaded at Colonia Agrippina, with three
hundred of his fellows. Mauritius, the captain of Christian religion,
with his fellows, six thousand six hundred sixty and six. Victor in
the city of Troy, now called Xanthus, with his fellows, three hundred
and threescore, were slain. Reginus reciteth the names of many other
martyrs, to the number of one hundred and twenty.

And forsomuch as mention here hath been made of Mauritius and Victor,
the particular description of the same history I thought here to
insert, taken out of Ado, and other story writers, as ensueth.

Mauritius came out of Syria into France and Italy, being captain of
the band of the Theban soldiers, to the number of six thousand six
hundred and threescore, being sent for of Maximianus, to go against
the rebellious Bangandes; but rather, as it should seem, by the
reason of the tyrant, which thought he might better in these quarters
use his tyranny upon the Christians than in the east part. These
Thebans, with Mauritius the captain, after that they had entered into
Rome, were there of Marcellus the blessed bishop confirmed in the
faith, promising by oath that they would rather be slain of their
enemies than forsake that faith which they had received; who followed
the emperor's host through the Alps even into France. At that time
the Cesareans were encamped not far from the town called Ottodor,
where Maximianus offered sacrifice to his devils, and called all the
soldiers both of the east and west to the same, strictly charging
them by the altars of his gods that they would fight against those
rebels the Bangandes, and persecute the Christian enemies of the
emperor's gods; which his commandment was showed to the Thebans'
host, which were also encamped about the river of Rode, and in a
place that was named Agawne; but to Ottodor they would in no wise
come, for that every man did certainly appoint and persuade with
themselves rather in that place to die, than either to sacrifice to
the gods, or bear armour against the Christians. Which thing indeed
very stoutly and valiantly they affirmed, upon their oath before
taken to Maximianus, when he sent for them. Wherewith the tyrant,
being wrathful and all moved, commanded every tenth man of that whole
band to be put to the sword, whereto strivingly and with great
rejoicing they committed their necks. To which notable thing and
great force of faith Mau ritius himself was a great encourager, who
by and by with a most grave oration exhorted and animated his
soldiers both to fortitude and constancy. Which, being again called
of the emperor, answered in this wise, saying, "We are, O emperor,
your soldiers, but yet also, to speak freely, the servants of God. We
owe to thee service of war, to him innocency; of thee we receive for
our travail wages, of him the beginning of life. But in this we may
in no wise obey thee, O emperor, to deny God our author and Lord, and
not only ours, but your Lord likewise, will ye nill ye. If we be not
so extremely enforced that we offend him, doubtless, as we have
hitherto before, we will yet obey you; but otherwise we will rather
obey him than you. We offer here our hands against any other enemies;
but to defile our hands with the blood of innocents, that we may not
do. These right hands of ours have skill to fight against the wicked
and true enemies; but to spoil and murder the godly and citizens,
they have no skill at all. We have in remembrance how we took armour
in hand for the defence of the citizens, and not aginst them. We
fought always for justice sake, piety, and for the health of
innocents. These have been always the rewards of our perils and
travail. We have fought in the quarrel of faith, which in no wise we
can keep to you, if we do not show the same to our God. We first
sware upon the sacraments of our God, then afterward to the king; and
do you think the second will avail us, if we break the first? By us
you would plague the Christians, to do which feat we are only
commanded by you. We are here ready to confess God the author of all
things, and believe in his Son Jesus Christ our Lord. We see before
our eyes our fellows, and partakers of our labours and travails, to
be put to the sword, and we sprinkled with their blood; of which our
most blessed companions and brethren the end and death we have not
bewailed nor mourned, but rather have been glad, and have rejoiced
thereat, for that they have been counted worthy to suffer for the
Lord their God. The extreme necessity of death cannot move us against
your Majesty, neither yet any desperation, O emperor. which is wont
in yen turous affairs to do much, shall arm us against you. Behold,
here we cast down our weapons, and resist not, for that we had rather
to be killed than kill, and guiltless to die than guilty to live.
Whatsoever more ye will command, appoint, and enjoin us. we are here
ready to suffer, yea, both fire and sword, and whatsoever other
torments. We confess ourselves to be Christians. we cannot persecute
Christians, nor will do sacrifice to your devilish idols.

With which their answer. the king being altogether incensed and
moved, commanded the second time the tenth man of them that were left
to be in like case murdered. That cruelty also being accomplished, at
length, when the Christian soldiers would in no wise condescend unto
his mind, he set upon them with his whole host. both footmen and also
horsemen, and charged them to kill them all. Who with all force set
upon them; they making no resistance, but, throwing down their
armour, yielded their lives to the persecutors, and offered to them
their naked bodies.

Victor at the same time was not of that band, nor yet then any
soldier; but being an old soldier, was dismissed for his age. At
which time he, coming suddenly upon them as they were banqueting and
making merry with the spoils of the ho1y martyrs, was bidden to sit
down with. them; who first asking the cause of that their so great
rejoicing, and understanding the truth thereof, detested the guests,
and refused to eat with them. And then being demanded of them whether
happily he were a Christian or no, openly confessed and denied not
but that he was a Christian, and ever would be. And thereupon they
rushing upon him, killed him, and made him partner of the like
martyrdom and honour.

Beda in his history writeth, that this persecution, being under
Dioelesian, endured unto the seventh year of Constantinus. And
Eusebius saith that it lasted until the tenth year of Constantinus.
It was not yet one year from the day in which Dioclesian and
Maximinian, joining themselves together, began their persecution,
when that they saw the number of the Christians rather to increase
than to diminish, notwithstanding all the cruelty that ever they
could show, and now were out of all hope for the utter rooting out of
them. Which thing was the cause of their first enterprise; and having
now even their fill of blood, and loathing, it were, the shedding
thereof, they ceased at the last of their own accord to put any more
Christians to death. But yet of a great multitude they did thrust out
their right eyes, and maimed their left legs at the ham with a
searing iron, condemning them to the mines of metal, not so much for
the use of their labour, as for the desire of afflicting them. And
this was the clemency and release of the cruelty of those princes,
which said that it was not meet that the cities should be defiled
with the blood of citizens, and to make the emperor's highness to be
stained with the name of cruelty, but to show his princely
beneficence and liberality to all men.

When Dioclesian and Maximinian had reigned together emperors one and
twenty years, (Nicephorus saith two and twenty years,) at length
Dioclesian put himself from his imperial dignity at Nicomedia, and
lived at Salona, Maximinian at Mediolanum, and led both of them a
private life. This strange and marvellous alteration gave occasion
and so it came to pass, that, within short space after, there were in
the Roman commonwealth many emperors at one time.

In the beginning of this persecution, you heard how Dioclesian being
made emperor took to him Maximinian. Also how these two, governing as
emperors together, chose out other two Cæsars under them, to wit,
Galerius Maximinus, and Constantius, the father of Constantine the
Great. Thus then Dioclesian reigning with Maximinian, in the
nineteenth year of his reign began his furious persecution against
the Christians, whose reign after the same continued not long. For so
it pleased God to put such a snaffle in the tyrant's mouth, that
within two years after he caused both him and Maximinian (for what
cause he knoweth) to give over their imperial function, and so to
remain not as emperors any more, but as private persons. So that they
being now displaced and dispossessed, the imperial dominion remained
with Constantius and Galerius Maximinus, which two divided the whole
monarchy between them; so that Maximinus should govern the east
countries, and Constantius the west parts. But Constantius, as a
modest prince, only contented with the imperial title, refused Italy
and Africa, contenting himself only with France, Spain, and Britain.
Wherefore Galerius Maximinus chose to him his two sons, Maximinus and
Severus. Likewise Constantius took Constantinus his son Cæsar under
him. In the mean time, while Maximinus with his two Cæsars were in
Asia, the Roman soldiers set up for their emperor Maxentius, the son
of Maximinian, who had before deposed himself. Against whom
Maximinus, the emperor of the east, sent his son Severus, which
Severus was slain in the same voyage of Maxentius, in whose place
then Maximinus took Licinius. And these were the emperors and Cæsars
which, succeeding after Dioclesian and Maximinian, prosecuted the
rest of that persecution, which Dioclesian and Maximinian before
begun, during near the space of seven or eight years, which was to
the year of our Lord three hundred and eighteen; save only that
Constantius with his son Constantinus was no great doer therein, but
rather a maintainer and a supporter of the Christians. Which
Constantius, surnamed Clorus for his paleness, was the son of
Eutropius, a man of great nobility of the Roman nation, as Letus
affirmeth. He came of the line of Eneas and Claudia, the daughter of
Claudius Augustus. This man had not the desire of great and mighty
dominions, and therefore parted he the empire with Galerius, and
would rule but in France, Britain, and Spain, refusing the other
kingdoms for the troublesome and difficult government of the same.
Otherwise he was a prince, as Eutropius maketh description of him,
very excellent, civil, meek, gentle, liberal, and desirous to do good
unto those that had any private authority under him. And as Cyrus
once said, that he got treasure enough when he made his friends rich;
even so it is said that Constantius would oftentimes say, that it
were better that his subjects had treasure than he to have it in his
treasure-house. Also he was by nature sufficed with a little,
insomuch that he used to eat and drink in earthen vessels (which
thing was counted in Agathocles the Sicilian a great commendation);
and if at any time cause required to garnish his table, he would send
for plate and other furniture to his friends. To these virtues he
added yet a more worthy ornament, that is, devotion, love, and
affection towards the word of God, as Eusebius in his eighth book and
thirteenth chapter affirmeth; after which virtues ensued great peace
and tranquillity in all his provinces. By which word he being guided,
neither levied any wars contrary to piety and Christian religion,
neither aided he any other that did the same, neither destroyed he
the churches, but commanded that the Christians should he preserved
and defended, and kept them safe from all contumelious injuries. And
when that in the other jurisdictions of the empire the congregations
were molested with persecution, as Sozomenus declareth in his first
book and sixth chapter, he only gave licence unto the Christians to
live after their accustomed manner. This wonderful act of his
following, besides others, doth show that he was a sincere
worshippers and of the Christian religion.

(Illustration: The prelates before the Cæsar Constantius: )


Those which bare the chief offices amongst the ethnics drove out of
the emperor's court all the godly Christians; whereupon this ensued,
that the emperors themselves, at the last, were destitute of help,
when such were driven away, which dwelling in their courts, and
living a godly life, poured out their prayers unto God for the
prosperous estate and health both of the empire and emperor.
Constantius therefore, minding at a certain time to try what sincere
and good Christians he had yet in his court, called together all his
officers and servants in the same, feigning himself to choose out
such as would do sacrifice to devils, and that those only should
dwell there and keep their offices, and that those which would refuse
to do the same should be thrust out and banished the court. At this
appointment, all the courtiers divided themselves into companies: the
emperor marked which were the constantest and godliest from the rest.
And when some said they would willingly do sacrifice, other some
openly and boldly denied to do the same; then the emperor sharply
rebuked those which were so ready to do sacrifice, and judged them as
false traitors unto God, accounting them unworthy to be in his court
which were such traitors to God; and forthwith commanded that they
only should be banished the same. But greatly he commended them which
refused to do sacrifice, and confessed God, affirming that they only
were worthy to be about a prince; forthwith commanding that
thenceforth they should be the trusty counsellors and defenders both
of his person and kingdom; saying thus much more, that they only were
worthy to be in office, whom he might make account of as his assured
friends, and that he meant to have them in more estimation than the
substance he had in his treasury. Eusebius maketh mention hereof in
his first book of the life of Constantine, and also Sozomenus in his
first book and sixth chapter.

With this Constantius was joined (as hath been aforesaid) Galerius
Maximinus, a man, as Eutropius affirmeth, very civil, and a passing
good soldier; furthermore, a favourer of wise and learned men, of a
quiet disposition, not rigorous but in his drunkenness, whereof he
would soon after repent him, as Victor writeth; whether he meaneth
Maximinus the father, or Maximinus his son, it is uncertain. But
Eusebius far otherwise describeth the conditions of him in his eighth
book and first chapter. For he saith he was of a tyrannical
disposition, the fearfullest man that might be, and curious in all
magical superstition; insomuch that without the divinations and
answers of devils he durst do nothing at all; and therefore he gave
great offices and dignities to enchanters. Furthermore, that he was
an exactor and extortioner of the citizens, liberal to those that
were flatterers, given to surfeiting and riot, a great drinker of
wine, and in his furious drunkenness most like a madman, a ribald,
and adulterer, which came to no city but he ravished virgins, and
defiled men's wives. To conclude, he was so great an idolater, that
he built up temples in every city, and repaired those that were
fallen in great decay; and he chose out the most worthy of his
political magistrates to be the idol's priests, and devised that they
should execute that their office with great authority and dignity,
and also with warlike pomp. But unto Christian piety and religion he
was most incensive, and in the east churches exercised cruel
persecution, and used as executioners of the same Pencetius,
Quintianus, and Theotechnus, beside others.

Notwithstanding he was at length revoked from ins cruelty by the just
judgment and punishment of God. For he was suddenly vexed with a
fatal disease, most filthy and desperate, which disease to describe
was very strange, taking the first beginning in his flesh outwardly,
from thence it proceeded more and more to the inward parts of his
body. For in the members of his body there happened unto him a sudden
putrefaction. By reason whereof the physicians which had him in cure,
not able to abide the intolerable smell, some of them were commanded
to be slain. Other some, because they could not heal him, being so
swollen and past hope of cure, were also cruelly put to death. At
length, being put in remembrance that his disease was sent of God, he
began to forethink the wickedness that he had done against the saints
of God; and so coming again to himself, first confesseth to God all
his offences, then calling them unto him which were about him,
forthwith commanded all men to cease from the persecutions of the
Christians; requiring, moreover, that they should set up his imperial
proclamations for the restoring and re-edifying of their temples, and
that they would obtain this of the Christians in their assemblies,
(which without all fear and doubt they might be bold to make,) that
they would devoutly pray to their God for the emperor. Then forthwith
was the persecution stayed, and the imperial proclamations in every
city were set up, containing the retraction or countermand of those
things which against the Christians were before decreed, the copy
whereof ensueth.

"Amongst other things, which for the benefit and commodity of the
commonwealth we established, we commanded to reform all things 
according to the ancient laws and public discipline of the Romans,
and also to use this policy, that the Christians, which had forsaken
the religion of their forefathers, should be brought again to the
right way. For such fantastical singularity was amongst them, that
those things which their elders had received and allowed they
rejected and disallowed, devising every man such laws as they thought
good, and observed the same, assembling in divers places great
multitudes of people.

"Therefore, when our foresaid decree was proclaimed, many there were
that felt the penalty thereof, and many being troubled, therefore,
suffered many kinds of death. And because we see yet that there be
many which persevere in the same, which neither give due worship unto
the celestial gods, neither receive the God of the Christians, we
having respect to our accustomed benignity, wherewith we are wont to
show favour unto all men, think good in this cause also to extend our
clemency, that the Christians may be again tolerated, and appoint
them places where again they may meet together, so that they do
nothing contrary to public order and discipline. By another epistle
we mean to prescribe unto the judges what shall be convenient for
them to do. Wherefore, according as this our bountiful clemency
deserveth, let them make intercession to God for our health,
commonwealth, and for themselves, that in all places the state of the
commonwealth may be preserved, and that they themselves may be able
safely to live within their bounds."

But one of his inferior officers, whose name was also Maximinus, was
not well pleased when this countermand was published throughout all
Asia, and the provinces where he had to do. Yet he being qualified by
this example, that it was not convenient for him to repugn the
pleasure of those princes which had the chief authority, as
Constantinus and Maximinus, set forth of himself no edict touching
the same; but commanded his officers in the presence of others that
they should somewhat stay from the persecution of the Christians; of
which commandment of the inferior Maximinus each of them gave
intelligence unto their fellows by their letters. But Sabinus, which
then amongst them all had the chiefest office and dignity, to the
substitutes of every country wrote by his letters the emperor's
pleasure in this wise.

"The majesty of our most gracious and sovereign lords the emperors
hath lately decreed with special diligence and devotion, to induce
all men to a uniform life, so that they which seemed to dissent from
the Roman custom, by a strange manner of living, should exhibit to
the immortal gods their due and proper worship; but the wilful and
obstinate mind of divers so much and so continually resisted the
same, that by no lawful means they might be revoked from their
purpose, neither made afraid by any terror or punishment. Because
therefore it so came to pass, that by this means many put themselves
in peril and jeopardy, the majesty of our sovereign lords the
emperors, according to their noble piety, considering that it was far
from the meaning of their princely majesties that such things should
be, whereby so many men and much people should be destroyed, gave me
in charge, that with diligence I should write unto you, that if any
of the Christians from henceforth fortune to be taken in the exercise
of their religion, in no wise ye molest the same, neither for that
cause you do judge any man worthy of punishment; for that in all this
time it hath evidently appeared that by no means they might be
allured from such wilfulness. It is therefore requisite that your
wisdom write unto the questors, captains, and constables of every
city and village, that they may know it not to be lawful for them, or
any of them, to do contrary to the prescript of this commandment,
neither that they presume to attempt the same."

The governors therefore of every province, supposing this to be the
determinate pleasure (and not feigned) of the emperor, did first
advertise thereof the rustical and pagan multitude; after that they
released and set at liberty all such prisoners as were condemned to
the metal mines and to perpetual imprisonment for their faith,
thinking thereby (where indeed they were deceived) that the doing
thereof would please the emperor. This therefore seemed to them as
unlooked for, and as light to travellers in a dark night. They gather
themselves together in every city, they call their synods and
councils, and much marvel at the sudden change and alteration. The
infidels themselves extol the only and true God of the Christians.
The Christians receive again all their former liberties; and such as
fell away before in the time of persecution repent themselves, and
after penance done they returned again to the congregation. Now the
Christians rejoiced in every city, praising God with hymns and
psalms. This was a marvellous sudden alteration of the church, from a
most unhappy state into a better; but scarce suffered Maximinus the
tyrant the same six months unviolated to continue. For whatsoever
seemed to make for the subversion of the same peace, (yet scarcely
hatched,) that did he only meditate. And first of all he took from
the Christians all liberty and leave for them to assemble and
congregate in churchyards under a certain colour. After that he sent
certain miscreants unto the Athenians, to solicit them against the
Christians, and to provoke them to ask of him, as a recompence and
great reward, that he would not suffer any Christian to inhabit in
their country; and amongst them was one Theotechnus, a most wicked
miscreant and enchanter, and a most deadly enemy against the
Christians. He first made the way whereby the Christians were put out
of credit and accused to the emperor; to which fraud also he erected
a certain idol of Jupiter to be worshipped of the enchanters and
conjurers, and mingled the same worship with ceremonies full of
deceivable witchcraft. Lastly, he caused the same idol to give this
sound out of his mouth; that is, Jupiter commandeth the Christians to
be banished out of the city and suburbs of the same, as enemies unto
him. And the same sentence did the rest of the governors of the
provinces publish against the Christians; and thus at length
persecution began to kindle against them. Maximinus appointed and
instituted high priests and bishops in every city to offer sacrifice
unto idols, and inveigled all those that were in great offices under
him, that they should not only cease to pleasure them and to do for
them, but also that they should with new-devised accusations against
them, at their pleasure, put as many to death as by any means they
might. They also did counterfeit certain practices of Pilate against
our Saviour Christ full of blasphemy, and sent the same into all the
empire of Maximinus by their letters; commanding that the same should
be published and set up in every city and suburbs of the same, and
that they should be delivered to the schoolmasters, to cause their
scholars to learn by rote the same.

After that, one named Præfectus Castrorum, whom the Romans do call
captain, allured certain light women, partly by fear, and partly by
punishment, dwelling at Damascus in Phœnicia, and taken out of the
court wherein they were accused, that they should openly say in
writing, that they were once Christians, and that they knew what
wicked and lascivious acts the Christians were wont to execute
amongst themselves upon the Sundays, and what other things they
thought good to make more of their own head, to the slander of the
Christians. The captain showeth unto the emperor their words, as
though it had been so indeed; and the emperor by and by commanded the
same to be published throughout every city. Furthermore, they did
hang up in the midst of every city (which was never done before) the
emperor's edicts against the Christians, graven in tables of brass.
And the children in the schools, with great noise and clapping of
hands, did every day resound the contumelious blasphemies of Pilate
unto Jesus, and what other things soever were devised of the
magistrates, after a most despiteful manner. And this is the copy of
the edict which Maximinus caused to be fastened to pillars, fraught
with all arrogant and insolent hate against God and Christ.

"The weak and imbecile rebellion of man's mind (all obscurity and
blindness of ignorance set apart, which hitherto hath wrapped the
minds of impious and miserable men in the pernicious darkness of
ignorance) is now at the length able to discern that the same is
governed, as also corroborated by the providence of the immortal
gods, the lovers of virtue; which thing, how acceptable it is to us,
how pleasant and grateful, and how much proof the same hath declared
of your well-disposed willing minds, is incredible to be told;
although this was not unknown before, with what diligence and
devotion ye served the immortal gods, whose wonderful and constant
faith is not known by bare and naked words, but by your worthy and
notable deeds. Wherefore worthily is your city called the habitation
and seat of the immortal gods, and by many examples it appeareth that
the same flourisheth and prospereth by the presence of the celestial
gods. For, behold, your city not regarding your private businesses,
nor esteeming that which should have been for the special commodity
thereof, when it perceived that cursed vanity to begin again to
creep, and, as a fire negligently quenched, when the dead brands
thereof began to kindle and make a great flame, by and by without
delay, ye having recourse unto our piety, as unto the metropolitan of
all Divine worship and religion, craved remedy and help; which
wholesome mind, for your piety's sake, it is most manifest that the
gods have endued you with. Therefore he, even that most mighty
Jupiter, I say, which preserveth your most famous city, to that
intent he might deliver and make free your country gods, your wives
and children, your household gods and houses, from all detestable
corruption, hath inspired you with this wholesome and willing mind,
showing and declaring how worthy, notable, and healthful a thing it
is to worship and to sacrifice to the immortal gods. For who is so
void of reason and understanding, that knoweth not that this thing
happeneth unto us by the careful study of the goodness of our gods,
that the ground denieth not to give her timely increase, nor maketh
frustrate the husbandman's hope, nor that wicked war dare show her
face upon the earth, nor that the corruption of air is now cause of
pestilence, neither that the sea swelleth with immoderate winds,
neither that sudden storms are cause of hurtful tempest; to conclude,
that the ground, which is as the nurse and mother of all things, is
not swallowed up of her deep chaps and gapings by terrible
earthquake; neither that the hills, made level with the earth, are
not with gaping clefts devoured; all which evils, and greater than
these, before this time to have happened, every man knoweth. And all
these mischiefs came upon us for the pernicious error's sake of the
extreme folly of those wicked men the Christians, when filthiness
itself (as I may call it) so occupied their minds and overran the
world. Let them behold the fields now all about full of corn, and
overflown, as it were, with ears of corn. Let them view the pleasant
meadows clothed with flowers, and moistened with showers from heaven,
and also the pleasant and temperate weather. Therefore let all men
rejoice that by your piety, sacrifices, and worshipping, the majesty
of the most stern god of battle, Mars, is appeased, and that
therefore we enjoy pleasant and firm peace. And how many soever have
left that blind error and straying of the Christians unfeignedly, and
be of a better mind, let them specially rejoice, as men delivered out
of a sudden great tempest, and from a grievous disease, and have
afterward obtained a delectable and pleasant life. For doubtless, if
they had remained in that execrable vanity, far off had they been
chased from your city and suburbs of the same, (according to your
desire,) that your city by that means, according to your commendable
diligence, cleansed from all impurity and impiety, may offer
sacrifices according to the meaning of the same, with due reverence
of the immortal gods. And that you may perceive in how good part your
supplication was unto us, (yea, unasked and undesired,) we are most
willing and ready to further your honest endeavours, and grant unto
you, for your devotion, whatsoever ye ask of our magnificence. And
that this thing may be accomplished, forthwith ask and have. And this
thing with all speed endeavour you to obtain, which shall be a
perpetual testimony of piety exhibited of your city to the immortal
gods, and shall be a precedent to your children and posterity, and
withal you shall obtain of us, for this your willing desire of
reformation, condign and worthy rewards."

Thus came it to pass that at the length persecution was as great as
ever it was, and the magistrates of every province were very
disdainful against the Christians, which condemned some to death, and
some to exile. Among whom they condemned three Christians at Emisa in
Phœnicia, with whom Sylvanus the bishop, a very old man, being forty
years in the ecclesiastical function, was condemned to death. At
Nicomedia Lucianus, the elder of Antioch, brought thither, after he
had exhibited to the emperor his apology concerning the doctrine of
the Christians, was cast in prison, and after put to death. In
Amasea, a city of Cappadocia, Bringes, the lieutenant of Maximinus,
had at that time the executing of that persecution. At Alexandria,
Petrus, a most worthy bishop, was beheaded, with whom many other
Egyptian bishops also died. Quirinus, the bishop of Scescanus, having
a hand-mill tied about his neck, was thrown headlong from the bridge
into the flood, and there a long while floated above the water; and
when he opened his mouth to speak to the lookers on, that they should
not be dismayed with that his punishment, was with much ado drowned.
At Rome died Marcellus the bishop, as saith Platina; also Timotheus
the elder, with many other bishops and priests, were martyred. To
conclude, many in sundry places every where were martyred, whose
names the book entitled Fasciculus Temporum declareth, as
Victorianus, Symphorianus, Castorius with his wife, Castulus,
Cæsarius, Mennas, Nobilis, Dorotheus, Gorgonius, Petrus, and other
innumerable martyrs, Erasmus, Bonifacius, Juliana, Cosmas, Damianus,
Basiinus, with seven others. Dorothea, Theophilus, Theodosia Vitalis,
Agricola, Acha, Philemon, Hireneus, Januarius, Festus, Desiderius,
Gregorius, Spoletanus, Agapes, Chionia, Hirenea, Theodora, and two
hundred threescore and ten other martyrs. Florianus, Primus, and
Felicianus, Vitus and Modestus, Crescentia, Albinius, Rogatianus,
Donatianus, Pancra tius, Catharina, Magareta, Lucia the virgin, and
Antheus the king, with many thousand martyrs more. Simplicius,
Faustinus, Beatrix, Panthaleon, Georgius, Justus, Leocandia,
Anthonia, and other more, (to an infinite number,) suffered martyrdom
in this persecution, whose names God hath written in the book of
life. Also Felix, Victor with his parents, Lucia the widow,
Gemenianus, with threescore and nineteen others. Sabinus, Anastasia,
Chrysogonus, Felix, and Audactus, Adrianus, Natholia, Eugenia. Agnes
also, when she was but thirteen years old, was martyred. Eusebius in
his eighth book and fifteenth chapter rehearseth these kinds of
torments and punishments; that is to say, fire, wild beasts, the
sword, crucifyings, the bottom of the sea, the cutting and burning of
members, the thrusting out of eyes, dismembering of the whole body,
hunger, imprisonment, and whatsoever other cruelty the magistrates
could devise. All which notwithstanding, the godly ones, rather than
that they would do sacrifice, as they were bid, manfully endured.
Neither were the women any thing at all behind them. For they, being
enticed to the filthy use of their bodies, rather suffered
banishment, or willingly killed themselves. Neither yet could the
Christians live safely in the wilderness, but were fetched even from
thence to death and torments, insomuch that this was a more grievous
persecution under Maximinus the tyrant, than was the former cruel
persecution under Maximianus the prince.

And forasmuch as ye have heard the cruel edict of Maximinus
proclaimed against the Christians, graven in brass, which he thought
perpetually should endure to the abolishing of Christ and his
religion; now mark again the great handiwork of God, which
immediately fell upon the same, checking the proud presumption of the
tyrant, proving all to be false and contrary that in the brazen
proclamation was contained. For where the foresaid edict boasted so
much of the prosperity and plenty of all things in the same time of
this persecution of the Christians, suddenly befell such unseasonable
drought, with famine and pestilence, among the people, besides also
the wars with the Annenians, that all was found untrue that he had
boasted so much of before. By reason of which famine and pestilence
the people were greatly consumed, insomuch that one measure of wheat
was sold for two thousand and five hundred pieces of money of Athens
coin, by reason whereof innumerable died in the cities, but many more
in the country and villages, so that most part of the husbandmen and
countrymen died up with the famine and pestilence. Divers there were
which, bringing out their best treasure, were glad to give it for any
kind of sustenance, were it never so little. Others, selling away
their possessions, fell by reason thereof to extreme poverty and
beggary. Certain eating grass, and feeding on other unwholesome
herbs, were fain to relieve themselves with such food as did hurt and
poison their bodies. Also a number of women in the cities, being
brought to extreme misery and penury, were constrained to depart the
city, and fall to begging through the country. Some others were weak
and faint, (as images without breath,) wandering up and down, and not
able to stand for feebleness, fell down in the middle of the streets,
and holding up their hands most pitiful, cried for some scraps or
fragments of bread to be given them; and being at the last gasp,
ready to give up the ghost, and not able to utter any other words,
yet cried out that they were hungry. Of the richer sort divers there
were, who being weary with the number of beggars and askers, after
they had bestowed largely upon them, became hard-hearted, fearing
lest they should fall into the same misery themselves as they which
begged. By reason whereof the market-place, streets, lanes, and
alleys lay full of dead and naked bodies, being cast out and
unburied, to the pitiful and grievous beholding of them that saw
them; wherefore many were eaten of dogs, for which cause they that
lived fell to the killing of dogs, lest they, running mad, should
fall upon them, and kill them also.

In like manner the pestilence, scattering through all houses and ages
of men, did no less consume them, especially those which through
plenty of victuals escaped famine. Wherefore the rich princes and
presidents, and other innumerable of the magistrates, being the more
apt to receive the infection, by reason of their plenty, were quickly
despatched, and turned up their heels. Thus the miserable multitude
being consumed with famine and with pestilence, all places were full
of mourning, neither was there any thing else seen, but wailing and
weeping in every corner. So that death, what for famine and
pestilence, in short time brake up and consumed whole households, two
or three dead bodies being borne out together from one house to one
funeral.

These were the rewards of the vain brags of Maximinus and his edicts,
which he did publish in all towns and cities against us, when it was
evident, to all men how diligent and charitable the Christians were
to them all in this their miserable extremity. For they only in all
this time of distress, showing compassion upon them, travelled every
day, some in curing the sick, and some in burying the dead, which
otherwise of their own sort were forsaken. Other some of the
Christians calling and gathering the multitude together, which were
in jeopardy of famine, distributed bread unto them, whereby they
ministered occasion to all men to glorify the God of the Christians,
and to confess them to be the true worshippers of God, as appeared by
their works. By the means and reason hereof, the great God and
Defender of the Christians, who before had showed his anger and
indignation against all men, for their wrongful afflicting of us,
opened again unto us the comfortable light of his providence; so that
by means thereof peace fell unto us, as light unto them that sit in
darkness, to the great admiration of all men, which easily perceive
God himself to be a perpetual director of our doings, who many times
chasteneth his people with calamities for a time to exercise them,
but after sufficient correction again showeth himself merciful and
favourable to them which with trust call upon him.

By the narration of these things heretofore premised, taken out of
the story of Eusebius, like as it is manifest to see, so it is
wonderful to mark and note, how those counsels and rages of the
Gentiles achieved against Christ and his Christians, when they seemed
most sure against them, were most against themselves. And whereby
they thought most to confound the church and religion of Christ, the
same turned most to their own confusion, and to the profit and praise
of the Christians (God of his marvellous wisdom so ordering and
disposing the end of things). For where the brazen edict of the
emperor promised temperate weather, God sent drought; where it
promised plenty, God immediately sent upon them famine and penury;
where it promised health, God struck them, even upon the same, with
grievous pestilence, and with other more calamities, in such sort
that the most relief they had was chiefly by the Christians, to the
great praise both of them, and to the honour of our God.

Thus most plainly and evidently was then verified the true promise of
Christ to his church, affirming and assuring us that the gates of
hell shall not prevail against his church builded upon his faith; as
sufficiently may appear by these ten persecutions above specified and
described. Wherein, as no man can deny but that Satan and his
malignant world have assayed the uttermost of their power and might
to overthrow the church of Jesus; so must all men needs grant that
read these stories, that when Satan and the gates of hell have done
their worst, yet have they not prevailed against this mount of Zion,
nor ever shall. For else what was here to be thought, where so many
emperors and tyrants together, Dioclesian, Maximinian, Galerius,
Maximinus, Severus, Maxentius, Licinius, with their captains and
officers, were let loose, like so many lions, upon a scattered and
unarmed flock of sheep, intending nothing else but the utter
subversion of all Christianity, and especially also when laws were
set up in brass against the Christians, as a thing perpetually to
stand; what was here to be looked for, but a final desolation of the
name and religion of Christians? But what followed, partly ye have
heard, partly more is to be marked, as in the story followeth.

I showed before how Maxentius, and the son of Maximinian, was set up
at Rome by the pretorian soldiers to be emperor. Whereunto the
senate, although they were not consenting, yet for fear they were not
resisting. Maximinian his father, who had before deprived himself
with Dioclesian, hearing of this, took heart again to him to resume
his dignity, and so laboured to persuade Dioclesian also to do the
same; but when he could not move him thereunto, he repaireth to Rome,
thinking to wrest the empire out of his son's hands. But when the
soldiers would not suffer that, of a crafty purpose he flieth to
Constantine in France, under pretence to complain of Maxentius his
son, but in very deed to kill Constantine. Notwithstanding, that
conspiracy being detected by Fausta the daughter of Maximinian, whom
Constantine had married, so was Constantine through the grace of God
preserved, and Maximinian retired back. In the which his flight by
the way he was apprehended, and so put to death. And this is the end
of Maximinian.

Now let us return to Maxentius again, who all this while reigned at
Rome with tyranny and wickedness intolerable, much like to another
Pharaoh or Nero. For he slew the most part of his noble men, and took
from them their goods. And some time in his rage he would destroy
great multitudes of the people of Rome by his soldiers, as Eusebius
declareth. Also he left no mischievous nor lascivious act
unattempted, but was the utter enemy of all womenly chastity, which
used to send the honest wives whom he had adulterated with shame and
dishonesty unto their husbands (being worthy senators) after that he
had ravished them.

He was also much addicted to the magical art, to execute which he was
more fit than for the imperial dignity. Often he would invocate
devils in a secret manner, and by the answers of them he sought to
break the wars which he knew Constantine and Liciuius prepared
ttgainst him. And to the end he might the rather perpetrate his
mischievous and wicked attempts, which in his ungracious mind he had
conceived, according to his purpose, in the beginning of his reign he
feigned himself to be a favourer of the Christians. In which thing
doing, thinking to make the people of Rome his friends, he commanded
that they should cease from persecuting of the Christians. And he
himself in the mean season abstained from no contume lious vexation
of them, till that he began at the last to show himself an open
persecutor of them; at which time, as Zonaras writeth, he most
cruelly raged against the Christians thereabouts, vexing them with
all manner of injuries. Which thing he in no less wise did than
Maximinus; as Eusebius in his eighth book and fifteenth chapter
seemeth to affirm. And Platina declareth in the Life of Mar cellus
the bishop, that he banished a certain noble woman of Rome, because
she gave her goods to the church.

Thus by the grievous tyranny and unspeakable wickedness of this
Maxentius, the citizens and senators of Rome, being much grieved and
oppressed, sent their complaints with letters unto Constantine, with
much suit and most hearty petitions, desiring him to help and release
their country and city of Rome; who hearing and understanding their
miserable and pitiful state, and grieved therewith not a little,
first sendeth by letters to Maxentius, desiring and exhorting him to
refrain his corrupt doings and great cruelty. But when no letters nor
exhortations would prevail, at the length, pitying the woeful case of
the Romans, gathered together his power and army in Britain and
France, there with to repress the violent rage of that tyrant: thus
Constantine, sufficiently appointed with strength of men, but
especially with strength of God, entered his journey coming towards
Italy. Maxentius understanding of the coming of Constantine, and
trusting more to his devilish art of magic than to the good will of
his subjects, which he little deserved, durst not show himself out of
the city, nor encounter with him in the open field, but with privy
garrisons laid in wait for him by the way in sundry straits as he
should come. With whom Constantine had divers skirmishes, and by the
power of the Lord did ever vanquish them and put them to flight.
Notwithstanding Constantine yet was in no great comfort, but in great
care and dread in his mind, (approaching now near unto Rome,) for the
magical charms and sorceries of Maxentius, wherewith he had
vanquished before Severus sent by Galerius against him, as hath been
declared, which made also Constantine the more afraid. Wherefore
being in great doubt and per plexity in himself, and revolving many
things in his mind, what help he might have against the operations of
his charming, for he used to cut women great with child to take his
devilish charms by the entrails of the infants, with such other like
feats of devilishness which he practised: these things (I say)
Constantine doubting and revolving in his mind, in his journey
drawing toward the city, and casting up his eyes many times to
heaven, in the south part, about the going down of the sun, saw a
great brightness in heaven, appearing in the similitude of a cross,
with certain stars of equal bigness, giving this inscription, IN HOC
VINCE, that is, IN THIS OVERCOME. This miraculous vision to be true,
for the more credit, Eusebius Pamphilus, in his first book De Vita
Constantini, doth witness moreover, that he had heard the said
Constantine himself oftentimes report, and also to swear this to be
true and certain, which he did see with his own eyes in heaven, and
also his soldiers about him. At the sight whereof when he was greatly
astonied, and consulting with his men upon the meaning thereof,
behold, in the night season in his sleep Christ appeared to him with
the sign of the same cross which he had seen before, bidding him to
make the figuration thereof, and to carry it in his wars before him,
and so should he have the victory.

Wherein is to be noted (good reader) that this sign of the cross, and
these letters added withal, In hoc vince, In this conquer, was given
to him of God, not to induce any superstitious worship or opinion of
the cross, as though the cross itself had any such power or strength
in it to obtain victory; but only to bear the meaning of another
thing, that is, to be an admonition to him, to seek and aspire to the
knowledge and faith of Him which was crucified upon the cross for the
salvation of him, and of all the world, and so to set forth the glory
of his name, as afterward it came to pass. This by the way. Now to
the matter.

The next day following after this night's vision, Constantine caused
a cross after the same figuration to be made of gold and precious
stone, and to be borne before him instead of his standard; and so,
with much hope of victory and great confidence, as one armed from
heaven, speedeth himself toward his enemy. Against whom Maxentius
being constrained by force to issue out of the city, sendeth all his
power to join with him in the field beyond the river of Tiber, where
Maxentius craftily breaking down the bridge called Pons Miluius,
caused another deceitful bridge to be made of boats and wherries,
being joined together, and covered over with boards and planks in
manner of a bridge, thinking therewith to take Constantine as in a
trap. But here it came to pass which in the seventh Psalm is written;
He digged a pit, and fell therein himself: let his working return
upon his own head, and his unrighteousness upon his own pate. Which
here in this Maxentius was rightly verified. For after the two hosts
did meet, he being not able to sustain the force of Constantine
fighting under the cross of Christ against him, was put to such a
flight, and driven to such an exigent, that in retiring back, for
haste thinking to get the city, upon the same bridge which he did lay
for Constantine, was overturned by the fall of his horse into the
bottom of the flood, and there, with the weight of his armour, he
with a great part of His beaten men were drowned; representing unto
us the like example of Pharaoh and his host drowned in the Red Sea,
who not unaptly seemeth to bear a prophetical figuration of this
Maxentius. For as the children of Israel were in long thraldom and
persecution in Egypt under tyrants there, till the drowning of this
Pharaoh their last persecutor; so was this Maxentius, and Maximinus,
and Licinius, the last persecutors in the Roman monarchy of the
Christians, whom this Constantine, fighting under the cross of
Christ, did vanquish and set the Christians at liberty, who before
had been persecuted now three hundred years in Rome, as hath been
hitherto in this history declared.

Wherefore as the Israelites with their Moses, at the drowning of
their Pharaoh, sung gloriously unto the Lord, who miraculously had
cast down the horse and horsemen into the sea; so no less rejoicing
and exceeding gladness was here, to see the glorious hand of the Lord
Christ fighting with his people, and vanquishing his enemies and
persecutors.

In histories we read of many victories and great conquests gotten;
yet we never read, nor ever shall, of any victory so wholesome, so
commodious, so opportune to mankind, as this was, which made an end
of so much bloodshed, and obtained so much liberty and life to the
posterity of so many generations. For albeit that some persecution
was yet stirring in the east countries by Maximinus and Licinius, as
shall be declared; yet in Rome and in all the west parts no martyr
died after this heavenly victory gotten. And also in the east parts
the said Constantine, with the said cross borne before him,
consequently upon the same so vanquished the tyrants, and so
established the peace of the church, that, for the space of a just
thousand years after that, we read of no set persecution against the
Christians unto the time of John Wickliffe, when the bishops of Rome
began with fire to persecute the true members of Christ, as in
further process of this history (Christ granting) shall appear. So
happy, so glorious (as I said) was this victory of Constantine,
surnamed the Great. For the joy and gladness whereof the citizens who
had sent for him before with exceeding triumph brought him into the
city of Rome, where he with the cross was most honourably received
and celebrated the space of seven days together, having moreover in
the market-place his image set up, holding in his right hand the sign
of the cross, with this inscription; With this wholesome sign, the
true token of fortitude, I have rescued and delivered our city from
the yoke of the tyrant.

By this heavenly victory of Constantine, and by the death of
Maxentius, no little tranquillity came unto the church of Christ.
Although notwithstanding in the east churches the storm of this tenth
persecution was not yet altogether quieted, but that some tail
thereof in those parts remained for the space of two or three years.
But of this we mind to speak (Christ willing) hereafter. In the mean
season, to return again to the west parts here in Europe, where
Constantine then had most to do, great tranquillity followed, and
long continued in the church, without any open slaughter, for a
thousand years together, (to the time of John Wickliffe and
Waldenses, as is before touched,) by the means of the godly beginning
of good Constantine, who, with his fellow Licinius, being now
established in their dominion, eftsoons set forth their general
proclamation or edict, not constraining therein any man to any
religion, but giving liberty to all men, both for the Christians to
persist in their profession without any danger, and for other men
freely to adjoin with them whosoever pleased. Which thing was very
well taken and highly allowed of the Romans and all wise men. The
copy of the edict or constitution here ensueth.

"Not long agone, we weighing with ourselves, that the liberty and
freedom of religion ought not in any case to be prohibited, but that
free leave ought to be given to every man to do therein according to
his will and mind, we have given commandment to all men to qualify
matters of religion as they themselves thought good, and that also
the Christians should keep the opinions and faith of their religion;
but because that many and sundry opinions by the same our first
licence spring and increase through such liberty granted, we thought
good manifestly to add thereunto, and make plain such things where by
perchance some of them in time to come may, from such their
observance, be let or hindered. When therefore by prosperous success
I Constantinus Augustus, and I Licinius Augustus, came to Mediolanum,
and there sat in council upon such things as served for the utility
and profit of the commonwealth, these things amongst others we
thought would be beneficial to ill men, yea, and, before all other
things, we purposed to establish those things wherein the true
reverence and worship of God is comprehended; that is, to give unto
the Christians free choice to follow what religion they think good,
and whereby the same sincerity and celestial grace which is in every
place received may also be embraced and accepted of all our loving
subjects. According therefore unto this our pleasure, upon good
advisement and sound judgment, we have decreed, that no man so hardly
be denied to choose and follow the Christian observance or religion;
but that this liberty be given to every man, that he may apply his
mind to what religion he thinketh meet himself, whereby God may
perform upon us all his accustomed care and goodness. To the intent 
therefore you might know that this is our pleasure, we thought it
necessary this to write unto you, whereby all such errors and
opinions being removed, which in our former letters (being sent unto
you in the behalf of the Christians) are contained, and which seem
very undiscreet and contrary to our clemency, may be made frustrate
and annihilate. Now, therefore, firmly and freely we will and
command, that every man have a free liberty to observe the Christian
religion, and that without any grief or molestation he may be
suffered to do the same. These things have we thought good to signify
unto you by as plain words as we may, that we have given to the
Christians free and absolute power to keep and use their religion.
And forsomuch as this liberty is absolutely given of us unto them to
use and exercise their former observance, if any be disposed, it is
manifest that the same helpeth much to establish the public
tranquillity of our time, every man to have licence and liberty to
use and choose what kind of worshipping he list himself. And this is
done of us only for the intent that we would have no man to be
enforced to one religion more than another. And this thing also
amongst others we have provided for the Christians, that they may
have again the possession of such places in which heretofore they
have been accustomed to make their assemblies; so that if any have
bought or purchased the same, either of us or of any other, the same
places, without either money or other recompence, forth with and
without delay we will to be restored again unto the said Christians.
And if any man have obtained the same by gift from us, and shall
require any recompence to be made to them in that behalf, then let
the Christians repair to the president, (being the judge appointed
for that place,) that consideration may be had of those men by our
benignity: all which things we will and command that you see to be
given and restored freely, and with diligence, unto the society of 
the Christians, all delay set apart. And because the Christians
themselves are understood to have had not only those places wherein
they were accustomed to resort together, but certain other peculiar
places also, not being private to any one man, but belonging to the
right of their congregation and society; you shall see also all those
to be restored unto the Christians, that is to say, to every
fellowship and company of them, according to the decree, whereof we
have made mention, all delay set apart. Provided that the order we
have taken in the mean time be observed, that if any (taking no
recompence) shall restore the same lands and possessions, they shall
not mistrust, but be sure to be saved harmless by us. In all these
things it shall be your part to employ your diligence in the behalf
of the foresaid company of the Christians, whereby this our
commandment may speedily be accomplished, and also in this case by
our clemency the common and public peace may be preserved. For
undoubtedly by this means, as before we hare said, the good will and
favour of God towards us (whereof in many cases we have had good
experience) shall always continue with us. And to the intent that
this our constitution may be notified to all men, it shall be
requisite that the copy of these our letters be set up in all places,
that men may read and know the same, lest any should be ignorant
thereof."

By these histories I doubt not (good reader) but thou dost right well
consider and behold with thyself the marvellous working of God's
mighty power; to see so many emperors at one time conspired and
confederate together against the Lord, and Christ, his Anointed,
whose names before we have recited, is Dioclesian, Maximinian,
Galerius, Maxentius, Maximinus, Severus, Licinius, who having the
subjection of the whole world under their dominion, did bend and
extend their whole might and devices to extirpate the name of Christ
and of all Christians. Wherein if the power of man could have
prevailed, what could they not do? or what could they do more than
they did? If policy or devices could have served, what policy was
there lacking? If torments or pains of death could have helped, what
cruelty of torment by man could be invented which was not attempted?
If laws, edicts, proclamations, written not only in tables, but
engraven in brass, could have stood, all this was practised against
the weak Christians. And yet notwithstanding, to see how no counsel
can stand against the Lord, note here how all these be gone, and yet
Christ and his church doth stand. First, of the taking away of
Maximinian you have heard; also of the death of Severus; of the
drowning moreover of Maxentius enough hath been said. What a terrible
plague was upon Galerius, consuming his privy members with lice, hath
been also described. How Dioclesian the quondam being at Salona,
hearing of the proceedings of Constantine, and this edict, either for
sorrow died, or, as some say, did poison himself. Only Maximinus now
in the east parts remained alive, who bare a deadly hatred against
the Christians, and no less expressed the same with mortal
persecution, to whom Constantine and Licinius caused this
constitution of theirs to be delivered. At the sight whereof,
although he was somewhat appalled, and defeated of his purpose; yet
for so much as he saw himself too weak to resist the authority of
Constantine and Licinius, the superior princes, he dissembled his
counterfeit piety, as though he himself had tendered the quiet of the
Christians; directing down a certain decree in the behalf of the
Christians, wherein he pretendeth to write to Sabinus afore
mentioned, first repeating unto him the former decree of Dioclesian
and Maximinian in few words, with the commandment therein contained
touching the persecution against the Christians. After that, he
reciteth the decree which he himself made against them, when he came
first to the imperial dignity in the east part joined with
Constantine. Then the countermand of another decree of his again, for
the rescuing of the Christians, with such feigned and pretended
causes, as is in the same to be seen. After that, be declareth how
he, coming to Nicomedia at the suit and supplication of the citizens,
(which he also feigned, as may appear before,) he applying to their
suit, revoked that his former edict, and granted them that no
Christian should dwell within their city or territories. Upon which
Sabinus also had given forth his letters, rehearsing withal the
general countermand sent forth by him for the persecution again of
the Christians. Last of all now he sendeth down again another
surcountermand, with the causes therein contained, touching the
safety of the Christians, and tranquillity of them; commanding
Sabinus to publish the same. But this surcountermand he then
dissembled, as he had done in the other before. Howbeit shortly
after, he making wars, and fighting a baffle with Licinius, wherein
he lost the victory, coming home again, took great indignation
against the priests and prophets of his gods, whom before that time
he had great regard unto, and honoured; upon whose answers he
trusting, and depending upon their enchantments, began his war
against Licinius. But after that he perceived himself to be deceived
by them, as by wicked enchanters and deceivers, and such as had
betrayed his safety and person, he killed and put them to death. And
he shortly after, oppressed with a certain disease, glorified the God
of the Christians, and made a most absolute law for the safety and
preservation of them, with franchise and liberty; the copy whereof
ensueth.

"Imperator Cæsar, Gaius, Valerius, Maximinus, Germanicus, Pius,
Fortunatus, Augustus: It is necessary that we always carefully
provide and see unto the benefit and commodity of such as be our
subjects, and to exhibit such things unto them whereby they may best
obtain the same. But we suppose that there are none of you so
ignorant, but know and understand what things make best for the
profit and commodity of the commonwealth, and best please every man's
disposition. But it is meet and convenient that every man have
recourse to that which they have seen done before their eyes, and
that all sorts of men consider the same, and bear it in their minds.
When therefore, and that before this time, it came to our knowledge,
upon the occasion that Dioclesianus and Maximinianus, our progenitors
of famous memory, commanded the assem blies and meetings of the
Christians to be cut off, there were many of them spoiled and robbed
of our officials; which thing we also perceive is now put in practice
against our subjects, that they in like case may be spoiled of their
goods and substance, which thing chiefly to prevent is our only
endeavour. By our letters sent to the governors of every province the
year past, we ordained that if any man were disposed to lean unto the
Christian religion, he might without any injury done unto him
accomplish his desire, neither to be of any man either let or
molested, and that he might without any fear or suspicion do
whatsoever he therein thought good. But now also we understand that
there be certain judges which have neglected our commandment, and
have put our subjects in doubt whether that hath been our pleasure or
not, which thing they did that such men might be the better advised
how they entered into such religion; wherein they followed their own
fantasy. To the intent therefore that after this all suspicion,
doubt, and fear may be taken away, we have thought good to publish
this our edict, whereby it may be made manifest to every man, that it
shall be lawful for all such as will follow that religion, by the
benefit of this our grant and letters patent, to use what religion
they like best. And also hereby we grant to them licence to build
them oratories or temples. And furthermore, that this our grant may
more amply extend unto them, we vouchsafe to appoint and ordain, that
whatsoever lands and substance before belonging and appertaining to
the Christians, and by the commaudment of our predecessor were
transposed to our revenue and exchequer, or else be in the possession
of any city by means of the franchises of the same, or else otherwise
sold or given to any man; all and every parcel thereof we command
shall be restored unto the proper use of the Christians again,
whereby they may all have in this matter more experience of our godly
devotion and providence."

Maximinus then being conquered of Licinius, and also plagued with an
incurable disease sent by the hand of God, was compelled by torments
and adversity to confess the true God, whom before he regarded not,
and to write this edict in the favour of those Christians whom before
he did persecute. Thus the Lord doth make many times his enemies, be
they never so stern and stout, at length to stoop, and, maugre their
hearts, to confess him, as this Maximinus here did, who, not long
after, by the vehemency of his disease, ended his life. Whereby no
more tyrants now were left alive to trouble the church, but only
Licinius. Of which Licinius, and of his persecutions stirred up in
the east parts against the saints of God, now remaineth in order of
story to prosecute.



12. THE PERSECUTION UNDER LICINIUS

This Licinius being a Dane born, and made first Cæsar by Galerius, as
is above specified, was afterward joined with Constantine in
government of the empire, and in setting forth the edicts which
before we have described; although it seemeth all this to be done of
him with a dissembling mind. For so is he in all histories described
to be a man passing all others in desire of unsatiable riches, given
to lechery, hasty, stubborn, and furious. To learning he was such an
enemy, that he named the same a poison and a common pestilence, and
especially the knowledge of the laws. He thought no vice worse became
a prince than learning, because he himself was unlearned.

There was between him and Constantine in the beginning great
familiarity, and such agreement, that Constantine gave unto him his
sister Constantia in matrimony, as Aurelius Victor writeth. Neither
would any man have thought him to have been of any other religion
than Constantine was of, he seemed in all things so well to agree
with him. Whereupon he made a decree with Constantine in the behalf
of the Christians, as we have showed. And such was Licinius in the
beginning; but after arming himself with tyranny, began to conspire
against the person of Constantine, of whom he had received so great
benefits; neither favourable to the law of nature, nor mindful of his
oaths, his blood, nor promises. But when he considered that in his
conspiracies he nothing prevailed, for that he saw Constantine was
preserved and safely defended of God, and partly being puffed up with
the victory against Maximinus, he began vehemently to hate him, and
not only to reject the Christian religion, but also deadly to hate
the same. He said he would become an enemy unto the Christians, for
that in their assemblies and meetings they prayed not for him, but
for Constantine. Therefore, first, by little and little, and that
secretly, he went about to wrong and hurt the Christians, and
banished them his court, which never were by any means prejudicial to
his kingdom. Then he commanded that all those should be deprived
which were knights of the honourable order, unless they would do
sacrifice to devils. The same persecution afterward stretched he from
his court into all his provinces, which, with most wicked and devised
laws, he set forth. First, that for no cause the bishops should in
any matter communicate together; neither that any man should come at
the churches next unto them, or to call any assemblies, and consult
for the necessary matters and utility of the church.

After, that the men and women together should not come in companies
to pray, nor that the women should come in those places where they
used to preach and read the word of God; neither that they should be
after that instructed any more of the bishops, but should choose out
such women amongst them as should instruct them. The third most cruel
and wickedest of all was, that none should help and succour those
that were cast in prison, nor should bestow any alms or charity upon
them, though they should die for hunger; and they which showed any
compassion upon those that were condemned to death should be as
greatly punished as they to whom they showed the same should be.
These were the most horrible constitutions of Licinius, which went
beyond and passed the bounds of nature.

After this he used violence against the bishops, but yet not openly,
for fear of Constantine, but privily and by conspiracy; by which
means he slew those that were the worthiest men amongst the doctors
and prelates. And about Amasea and other cities of Pontus he razed
the churches even with the ground. Other some he shut up, that no man
should come after their accustomed manner to pray and worship God;
and therefore, as we said before, his conscience accusing him, all
this he did, for that he suspected they prayed for Constantine, and
not at all for him. And from this place in the east parts to the
Libyans, which bordered upon the Egyptians, the Christians durst not
assemble and come together for the displeasure of Licinius which he
had conceived against them.

 Furthermore, the flattering officers that were under him, thinking
by this means to please him, slew and made out of the way many
bishops, and without any cause put them to death, as though they had
been homicides and heinous offenders; and such rigour used they
towards some of them, that they cut their bodies into gobbets and
small pieces, in manner of a butcher, and after that threw them into
the sea to feed the fishes. What shall we speak of the exiles and
confiscations of good and virtuous men? For he took by violence every
man's substance, and cared not by what means he came by the same; but
threatened them with death, unless they would forego the same. He
banished those which had com mitted none evil at all. He commanded
that both gentlemen and men of honour should be made out of the way;
neither yet herewith content, but gave their daughters that were
unmarried to varlets and wicked ones to be defloured. And Licinius
himself, (although that by reason of his years his body was spent,)
yet shamefully did he vitiate many women, men's wives and maids.
Which cruel outrage of him caused many godly men of their own accord
to forsake their houses; and it was also seen that the woods, fields,
desert places, and mountains were fain to be the habitations and
resting-places of the poor and miserable Christians. Of those worthy
men and famous martyrs, which in this persecution found the way to
heaven, Nicephorus first speaketh of Theodorus, who first being
hanged upon the cross, had nails thrust into his armpits, and after
that his head stricken off. Also of an other Theodorus, being the
bishop of Tyre. The third was a man of Perga. Basilius also the
bishop of Amasenus, Nicholaus a bishop, Gregorius of Armenia the
Great. After that Paul of Neocesaria, which, by the impious
commandment of Licinius, had both his hands cut off with a searing
iron. Besides these were in the city of Sebastia forty worthy men and
Christian soldiers, in the vehement cold time of winter, soused and
drowned in a horsepond, when Locias as yet, of whom we spoke before,
and Agricolaus, executing the sheriff's office under Licinius in the
east parts, were alive, and were in great estimation for inventing of
new and strange torments against the Christians. The wives of those
forty good men were carried to Heraclea, a city in Thracia, and
there, with a certain deacon, whose name was Amones, were (after
innumerable torments by them most constantly endured) slain with the
sword. These things writeth Nicephorus. Also Sozomenus, in his ninth
book and second chapter, maketh mention of the same martyrs. And
Basilius, in a certain oration, seemeth to treat of their history,
saving that in the circumstances he somewhat varieth. And surely
Licinius was determined, for that the first face of this persecution
fell out according to his desire, to have overrun all the Christians;
to which thing neither counsel, nor good will, nor yet opportunity,
perchance wanted, unless God had brought Constantine into those parts
where he governed; where, in the wars which he himself began,
(knowing right well that Constantine had intelligence of his
conspiracy and treason,) joining battle with him, he was overcome.

Divers battles between them were fought: the first fought in Hungary,
where Licinius was overthrown; then he fled into Macedonia, and
repairing his army, was again discomfited. Finally, being vanquished
both by sea and land, he lastly, at Nicomedia, yielded himself to
Constantine, and was commanded to live a private life in Thessalia,
where at length he was slain by the soldiers.

Thus have ye heard the end and conclusion of all the seven tyrants
which were the authors and workers of this tenth and last persecution
against the true people of God. The chief captain and incentor of
which persecution was, first, Dioclesian, who died at Salona, as some
say, by his own poison, in the year of our Lord three hundred and
nineteen. The next was Maximinian, who (as is said) was hanged of
Constantine at Masilia, about the year of our Lord three hundred and
ten. Then died Galerius, plagued with a horrible disease sent of God.
Severus was slain by Maximinian, father of Maxentius, the wicked
tyrant who was overcome and vanquished of Constantine, in the year of
our Lord three hundred and eighteen. Maximinus the first tyrant
tarried not long after, who being overcome by Licinius, died about
the year of our Lord three hundred and twenty. Lastly, how this
Licinius was overcome by Constantine, and slain in the year of our
Lord three hundred twenty and four, is before declared. Only
Constantius, the father of Constantine, being a good and a godly
emperor, died in the third year of the persecution, in the year of
our Lord three hundred and ten, and was buried at York. After whom
succeeded his godly father Constantine, as a second Moses, sent and
set up of God to deliver his people out of this so miserable
captivity into liberty most joyful.

Now remaineth, after the end of these persecutors thus described, to
gather up the names and stories of certain particular martyrs, which
now are to be set forth, worthy of special memory for their singular
constancy and fortitude showed in their sufferings and cruel
torments. The names of all which that suffered in this foresaid tenth
persecution, being in number infinite, in virtue most excellent, it
is impossible here to comprehend; but the most notable, and in most
approved authors expressed, we thought here to insert for the more
edification of other Christians, which may and ought to look upon
their examples, first beginning with Albanus, the first martyr that
ever in England suffered death for the name of Christ.

(Illustration: St. Alban's Abbey )


At what time Dioclesian and Maximinian the pagan emperors had
directed out their letters with all severity for the persecuting of
the Christians, Alban, being then an infidel, received into his house
a certain clerk flying from the persecutors' hands, whom when Alban
beheld continually both day and night to persevere in watching and
prayer, suddenly, by the great mercy of God, he began to imitate the
example of his faith and virtuous life; whereupon, by little and
little, he being instructed by his wholesome exhortation, and leaving
the blindness of his idolatry, became at length a perfect Christian.
And when the forenamed clerk had lodged with him a certain time, it
was informed the wicked prince, that this good man and confessor of
Christ (not yet condemned to death) was harboured in Alban's house,
or very near unto him. Whereupon immediately he gave in charge to the
soldiers to make more diligent inquisition of the matter; who, as
soon as they came to the house of Alban the martyr, he, by and by,
putting on the apparel where with his guest and master was
apparelled, (that is, a garment at that time used, named caracalla,)
offered himself in the stead of the other to the soldiers; who,
binding him, brought him forthwith to the judge. It fortuned that at
that instant when blessed Alban was brought unto the judge, they
found the same judge at the altars offering sacrifice unto devils,
who, as soon as he saw Alban, was straightways in a great rage, for
that he would presume of his own voluntary will to offer himself to
peril, and give himself a prisoner to the soldiers for safeguard of
his guest whom he harboured, and commanded him to be brought before
the images of the devils whom he worshipped, saying, For that thou
hadst rather hide and convey away a rebel than to deliver him to the
officers, and that (as a contemner of our gods) he should not suffer
punishment and merit of his blasphemy, look what punishment he should
have had, thou for him shalt suffer the same, if I perceive thee any
wit to revolt from our manner of worshipping, But blessed Alban, who,
of his own accord, had bewrayed to the persecutors that he was a
Christian, feared not at all the menaces of the prince, but being
armed with the spiritual armour, openly pronounced that he would not
obey his commandment. Then said the judge, Of what stock or kindred
art thou come? Alban answered, What is that to you of what stock
soever I came of? if you desire to hear the verity of my religion, I
do ye to wit that I am a Christian, and apply myself altogether to
that calling. Then said the judge, I would know thy name, and see
thou tell me the same without delay. Then said he, My parents named
me Alban, and I worship and honour the true and living God, which
hath created all the world. Then said the judge, fraught with fury,
If thou wilt enjoy the felicity of this present life, do sacrifice
(and that out of hand) to these mighty gods. Alban replieth, These
sacrifices which ye offer unto devils can neither help them that
offer the same, neither yet can they accomplish the desires and
prayers of their suppliants; but rather shall they, whatsoever they
be, that offer sacrifice to these idols, receive for their meed
everlasting pains of hell-fire. The judge, when he heard these words,
was passing angry, and commanded the tormentors to whip this holy
confessor of God, endeavouring to overcome the constancy of his heart
with stripes, which had prevailed nothing with words. And when he was
cruelly beaten, yet suffered he the same patiently, nay, rather
joyfully, for the Lord's sake. Then when the judge saw that he would
not with torments be overcome, nor be reduced from the worship of
Christian religion, he commanded him to be beheaded.

The rest that followeth of this story in the narration of Beda, as of
drying up the river, as Alban went to the place of his execution;
then of making a well-spring in the top of the hill, and of the
falling out of the eyes of him that did behead him, (with such other
prodigious miracles mentioned in his story,) because they seem more
legend-like than truth-like; again, because I see no great profit nor
necessity in the relation thereof; I leave them to the free judgment
of the reader, to think of them as cause shall move him.

The like estimation I have of the long story, wherein is written at
large a fabulous discourse of all the doings and miracles of St.
Alban, taken out of the library of St. Albans, compiled (as there is
said) by a certain pagan, who (as he saith) afterward went to Rome,
there to be baptized. But because in the beginning or prologue of the
book the said writer maketh mention of the ruinous walls
of the town of Verolamium, containing the story of Albanus, and of
his bitter punishments; which walls were then falling down for age at
the writing of the said book, as he saith; thereby it seemeth this
story to be written a great while after the martyrdom of Alban,
either by a Briton or by an Englishman. If he were a Briton, how then
did the Latin translation take it out of the English tongue, as in
the prologue he himself doth testify? If he were an Englishman, how
then did he go up to Rome for baptism, being a pagan, when he might
have been baptized among the Christian Britons more near at home?

But among all other evidences and declarations sufficient to disprove
this legendary story of St. Alban, nothing maketh more against it
than the very story itself; as where he bringeth in the head of the
holy martyr to speak unto the people after it was smitten off from
the body. Also where he bringeth in the angels going up and coming
down in a pillar of fire, and singing all the night long. Item, in
the river which he saith St. Alban made dry, such as were drowned in
the same before in the bottom were found alive. With other such like
monkish miracles and gross fables, wherewith these abbey-monks were
wont in times past to deceive the church of God, and to beguile the
whole world for their own advantage. Notwithdanding this, I write not
to any derogation of the blessed and faithful martyr of God, who was
the first that I did ever find in this realm to suffer martyrdom for
the testimony of Christ; and worthy no doubt of condign condemnation,
especially of us here in this land, whose Christian faith in the
Lord, and charity towards his neighbour, I pray God all we may
follow. As also I wish moreover that the stories, both of him and of
all other Christian martyrs, might have been delivered to us simple
as they were, without the admixture of all these abbey-like additions
of monkish miracles, wherewith they were wont to paint out the glory
of such saints to the most by whose offerings they were accustomed to
receive most advantage.

As touching the name of the clerk mentioned in this story, whom Alban
received into his house, I find in the English stories to be
Amphibalus, although the Latin authors name him not, who, the same
time flying into Wales, was also fetched from thence again to the
same town of Verolamium, otherwise called Verlancaster, where he was
martyred, having his belly opened, and made to run about a stake,
while all his bowels were drawn out, then thrust in with swords and
daggers, and at last was stoned to death, as the foresaid legend
declareth.

Moreover, the same time with Alban suffered also two citizens of the
aforesaid city of Verlancaster, whose names were Aaron and Julius;
beside others, whereof a great number the same time no doubt did
suffer, although our chronicles of their names do make no rehearsal.

The time of martyrdom of this blessed Alban and the other seemeth to
be about the second or third year of this tenth persecution, under
the tyranny of Dioclesian, and Maximinianus Herculius, bearing then
the rule in England, about the year of our Lord three hundred and
one, before the coming of Constantius to his government. Where, by
the way, is to be noted, that this realm of Britain, being so
christened before, yet never was touched with any other of the nine
persecutions, before this tenth persecution of Dioclesian and
Maximinian. In which persecution our stories and polychronicon do
record, that all Christianity almost in the whole island was
destroyed, the churches subverted, all books of the Scripture burned,
many of the faithful, both men and women, were slain; amongst whom
the first and chief ringleader (as hath been said) was Albanus. And
thus much touching the martyrs of Britain. Now from England, to
return again unto other countries, where this persecution did more
vehemently rage, we will add hereunto (the Lord willing) the stories
of others, although not of all that suffered in this persecution,
(which were impossible,) but of certain most principal, whose
singular constancy in their strong torments are chiefly renowned in
later histories; beginning, first, with Romanus, the notable and
admirable soldier and true servant of Christ, whose history set forth
in Prudentius doth thus proceed; so lamentably by him described, that
it will be hard for any man almost with dry cheeks to hear it.

Pitiless Galerius, with his grand captain Asclepiades, violently
invaded the city of Antioch, in tending by force of arms to drive all
Christians to renounce utterly their pure religion. The Christians,
as God would, were at that time congregated together, to whom Romanus
hastily ran, declaring that the wolves were at hand which would
devour the Christian flock; but fear not, said he, neither let this
imminent peril disturb you, my brethren. Brought was it to pass, by
the great grace of God working in Romanus, that old men and matrons,
fathers and mothers, young men and maidens, were all of one will and
mind, most ready to shed their blood in defence of their Christian
profession. Word was brought unto the captain, that the band of armed
soldiers was not able to wrest the staff of faith out of the hand of
the armed congregation, and all by reason that one Romanus so
mightily did encourage them, that they stick not to offer their naked
throats, wishing gloriously to die for the name of their Christ. Seek
out that rebel, (quoth the captain,) and bring him to me, that he may
answer for the whole sect. Apprehended he was, and, bound as a sheep
appointed to the slaughterhouse, was presented to the emperor, who
with wrathful countenance beholding him, said, What! art thou the
author of this sedition? Art thou the cause why so many shall lose
their lives? By the gods I swear thou shalt smart for it, and first
in thy flesh shalt thou suffer the pains whereunto thou hast
encouraged the hearts of thy fellows. Romanus answered, Thy sentence,
O emperor, I joyfully embrace; I refuse not to be sacrificed for my
brethren, and that by as cruel means as thou mayest invent; and
whereas thy soldiers were repelled from the Christian congregation,
that so happened, because it lay not in idolaters and worshippers of
devils to enter into the holy house of God, and to pollute the place
of true prayer. Then Asclepiades, wholly inflamed with this stout
answer, commanded him to be trussed up, and his bowels drawn out. The
executioners themselves, more pitiful in heart than the captain,
said, Not so, sir; this man is of noble parentage, unlawful it is to
put a nobleman to so unnoble a death. Scourge him then with whips
(quoth the captain) with pieces of lead at the ends. Instead of
tears, sighs, and groans, Romanus sung psalms all the time of his
whipping, requiring them not to favour him for nobility's sake; Not
the blood of my progenitors, (saith he,) but Christian profession,
maketh me noble. Then with great power of spirit he inveighed against
the captain, laughing to scorn the false gods of the heathen, with
the idolatrous worshipping of them, affirming the God of the
Christians to be the true God that created heaven and earth, before
whose judicial seat all nations shall appear. But the wholesome words
of the martyr were as oil to the fire of the captain's fury. The more
the martyr spake, the madder was he, insomuch that he commanded the
martyr's sides to be lanced with knives, until the bones appeared
white again. Sorry am I, O captain, (quoth the martyr,) not for that
my flesh shall be thus cut and mangled, but for thy cause am I
sorrowful, who, being corrupted with damnable errors, seducest
others. The second time he preached at large the living God, and the
Lord Jesus Christ, his well-beloved Son, eternal life through faith
in his blood, expressing therewith the abomination of idolatry, with
a vehement exhortation to worship and adore the living God. At these
words Asclepiades commanded the tormentors to strike Romanus on the
mouth, that his teeth being stricken out, his pronunciation at
leastwise might be impaired. The commandment was obeyed, his face
buffeted, his eyelids torn with their nails, his cheeks scotched with
knives, the skin of his beard was plucked by little and little from
the flesh; finally, his seemly face was wholly defaced. The meek
martyr said, I thank thee, O captain, that thou hast opened unto me
many mouths, whereby I may preach my Lord and Saviour Christ. Look
how many wounds I have, so many mouths I have lauding and praising
God. The captain, astonished with this singular constancy, commanded
them to cease from the tortures. He threateneth cruel fire, he
revileth the noble martyr, he blasphemeth God, saying, Thy crucified
Christ is but a yesterday's God, the gods of the Gentiles are of most
antiquity.

Here again Romanus, taking good occasion, made a long oration of the
eternity of Christ, of his human nature, of the death and
satisfaction of Christ for all mankind. Which done, he said, Give me
a child, O captain, but seven years of age, which age is free from
malice and other vices, wherewith riper age is commonly infected, and
thou shalt hear what he will say His request was granted. A pretty
boy was called out of the multitude, and set before him. Tell me, my
babe, (quoth the martyr,) whether thou think it reason that we
worship one Christ, and in Christ one Father, or else that we worship
infinite gods? Unto whom the babe answered, That certainly,
whatsoever it be that men affirm to be God, must needs be one, which
with one, is one and the same; and inasmuch as this one is Christ, of
necessity Christ must be the true God; for that there be many gods,
we children cannot believe. The captain, hereat clean amazed, said,
Thou young villain and traitor, where and of whom learnedst thou this
lesson? Of my mother, (quoth the child,) with whose milk I sucked in
this lesson, that I must believe in Christ. The mother was called,
and she gladly appeared. The captain commanded the child to be horsed
up and scourged. The pitiful beholders of this pitiless act could not
temper themselves from tears; the joyful and glad mother alone stood
by with dry cheeks; yea, she rebuked her sweet babe for craving a
draught of cold water; she charged him to thirst after the cup that
the infants of Bethlehem once drank of, forgetting their mothers'
milk and paps; she willed him to remember little Isaac, who, be
holding the sword wherewith, and the altar whereon, he should be
sacrificed, willingly proffered his tender neck to the dint of his
father's sword. Whilst this counsel was in giving, the butcherly
torturer plucked the skin from the crown of his head, hair and all.
The mother cried, Suffer, my child, anon thou shalt pass to Him that
will adorn thy naked head with a crown of eternal glory. The mother
counselleth, the child is counselled; the mother encourageth, the
babe is encouraged, and received the stripes with smiling
countenance. The captain, perceiving the child invincible, and
himself vanquished, committeth the silly soul, the blessed babe, the
child uncherished, to the stinking prison, commanding the torments of
Romanus to be renewed and increased, as chief author of this evil.

Thus was Romanus brought forth again to new stripes, the punishments
to be renewed and received upon his old sores, insomuch as the bare
bones appeared, the flesh all torn away.

Yea, no longer could the tyrant forbear, but needs he must draw
nearer to the sentence of death. Is it painful to thee (saith he) to
tarry so long alive? A flaming fire, doubt thou not, shall be
prepared for thee by and by, wherein thou and that boy, thy fellow of
rebellion, shall be consumed into ashes. Romanus and the babe were
led to the place of execution. As they laid hands on Romanus, he
looked back, saying, I appeal from this thy tyranny, O judge unjust,
unto the righteous throne of Christ, that upright Judge, not because
I fear thy cruel torments and merciless handlings, but that thy
judgments may be known to be cruel and bloody. Now when they welcome
to the place, the tormentor required the child of the mother, for she
had taken it up in her arms; and she, only kissing it, delivered the
babe; Farewell, she said, my sweet child. And as the hangman applied
his sword to the babe's neck, she sang on this manner:

All laud and praise with heart and voice,
O Lord, we yield to thee,
To whom the death of all thy saints
We know most dear to be.


The innocent's head being cut off, the mother wrapped it up in her
garment, and laid it to her breast. On the other side a mighty fire
was made, whereinto Romanus was cast, who said that he should not
burn; wherewith a great storm arose (if it be true) and quenched the
fire. The captain gave in commandment that his tongue should be cut
out. Out was it plucked by the hard roots and cut off: nevertheless
he spake, saying, He that speaketh Christ shall never want a tongue;
think not that the voice that uttereth Christ hath need of the tongue
to be the minister. The captain at this, half out of his wits, bare
in hand that the hangman deceived the sight of the people by some
subtle sleight and crafty conveyance. Not so, (quoth the hangman,) if
you suspect my deed, open his mouth, and diligently search the roots
of his tongue. The captain at length, being confounded with the
fortitude and courage of the martyr, straitly commandeth him to be
brought back into the prison, and there to be strangled; where, his
sorrowful life and pains being ended, he now enjoyeth quiet rest in
the Lord, with perpetual hope of his miserable body to be restored
again with his soul into a better life, where no tyrant shall have
any power.

Gordius was a citizen of Cesarea, a worthy soldier, and captain of a
hundred men. He, in the time of extreme persecution, refusing any
longer to execute his charge, did choose of his own accord willing
exile, and lived in the desert many years a religious and a solitary
life. But upon a certain day, when a solemn feast of Mars was
celebrated in the city of Cesarea, and much people were assembled in
the theatre to behold the games, he left the desert, and got him up
into the chief place of the theatre, and with a loud voice uttered
this saying of the apostle: Behold, I am found of them which sought
me not, and to those which asked not for me have I openly appeared.
By which words he let it to be understood that of his own accord he
came unto those games. At this noise, the multitude little regarding
the sights, looked about to see who it was that made such
exclamation. As soon as it was known to be Gordius, and that the
crier had commanded silence, he was brought unto the sheriff, who at
that instant was present, and ordained the games. When he was asked
the question who he was, from whence and for what occasion he came
thither, he telleth the truth of every thing as it was: I am come,
saith he, to publish, that I set nothing by your decrees against the
Christian religion, but that I profess Jesus Christ to be my hope and
safety; and when I understood with what cruelty you handled other
men, I took this as a fit time to accomplish my desire. The sheriff
with these words was greatly moved, and revenged all his displeasure
upon poor Gordius, commanding the executioners to be brought out with
scourges, while gibbet, and whatsoever torments else, might be
devised. Whereunto Gordius answered, saying, that it should be to him
a hinderance and damage if he could not suffer and endure divers
torments and pun ishments for Christ's cause. The sheriff, being more
offended with his boldness, commanded him to feel as many kind of
torments as there were. With all which Gordius, notwithstanding,
could not be mastered or overcome; but lifting up his eyes unto
heaven, singeth this saying out of the Psalms, The Lord is my helper,
I will not fear the thing that man can do to me; and also this
saying, I will fear none evil, because thou, Lord, art with me.

After this he, against himself, provoketh the extremity of the
tormentors, and blameth them if they
favour him any thing at all. When the sheriff saw that hereby he
could win but little, he goeth about by gentleness and enticing words
to turn the stout and valiant mind of Gordius. He promiseth to him
great and large offers if he will deny Christ; as to make him a
captain of as many men as any other is, to give him riches, treasure,
and what other thing soever he desireth. But in vain (as the proverb
is) pipeth the minstrel to him that hath no ears to hear; for he,
deriding the foolish madness of the magistrate, saith, that it lieth
not in him to place any in authority which be worthy to have a place
in heaven. The magistrate, with these words thoroughly angered and
vexed, prepared himself to his condemnation. Whom, after that he had
condemned, he caused to be had out of the city to be burnt, There run
out of the city great multitudes by heaps to see him put to
execution: some take him in their arms, and lovingly kiss him,
persuading him to take a better way and save himself, and that with
weeping tears. To whom Gordius answered, Weep not, I pray you, for
me, but rather for the enemies of God, which always make war against
the Christians; weep, I say, for them which prepare for us a fire,
purchasing hell-fire for themselves in the day of vengeance; and
cease further, I pray you, to molest and disquiet my settled mind.
Truly (saith he) I am ready, for the name of Christ, to suffer and
endure a thousand deaths, if need were. Some
other came unto him which persuaded him to deny Christ with his
mouth, and to keep his conscience to himself. My tongue, (saith he,)
which by the goodness of God I have, cannot be brought to deny the
author and giver of the same; for with the heart we believe unto
righteousness, and with the tongue we confess unto salvation. Many
more such-like words he spake; but especially uttering to them such
matter whereby he might persuade the beholders to death, and to the
desire of martyrdom. After all which, with a merry and glad
countenance, never changing so much as his colour, he willingly gave
himself to be burnt.

Not much unlike to the story of Gordius is the story also of Menas,
an Egyptian, who, being likewise a soldier by his profession, in this
persecution of Dioclesian forsook all, and went into the desert,
where a long time he gave himself to abstinence, watching, and
meditation of the Scriptures. At length, returning again to the city 
Cotis, there, in the open theatre, as the people were occupied upon
their spectacles by pastimes, he, with a loud voice, openly
proclaimed himself to be a Christian, and upon the same was brought
to Pyrrhus the presi dent, of whom he being demanded of his faith,
made this answer: Convenient it is that I should (saith he) confess
God, in whom is light, and no darkness, forsomuch as Paul doth teach
that with heart we believe to righteousness, with mouth confession is
given to salvation. After this the innocent martyr was most painfully
pinched and cruciated with sundry punishments. In all which,
notwithstanding, he declared a constant heart, and faith invincible,
having these words in his mouth being in the midst of his torments:
There is nothing in my mind that can be compared to the kingdom of
heaven; neither is all the world, if it were weighed in balance, able
to be conferred with the price of one soul: and said, Who is able to
separate us from the love of Jesus Christ our Lord? shall affliction
or anguish? And, moreover, (said he,) I have thus learned of my Lord
and my King, not to fear them which kill the body, and have no power
to kill the soul; but to fear Him rather, who hath power to destroy
both body and soul in hell-fire. To make the story short, after
manifold torments borne of him and suffered, when the last sentence
of death was upon him pronounced, which was, to be beheaded, Menas,
being then had to the place of execution, said, I give thee thanks,
my Lord God, which hast so acccepted me to be found a partaker of thy
precious death, and hast not given me to be devoured of my fierce
enemies, but hast made me to remain constant in thy pure faith unto
this my latter end. And so this blessed soldier, fighting valiantly
under the banner of Christ, lost his head and won his soul. Simeon
Metaphrast. In the which author there followeth a long narration of
the miracles of this holy man, which here for prolixity I do omit.

Basilius, in a certain sermon of forty martyrs, rehearseth this
story, not unworthy to be noted. There came (saith he) into a certain
place (of which place he maketh no mention) the emperor's marshal, or
officer, with the edict which the emperor had set out against the
Christians, that whosoever confessed Christ should, after many
torments, suffer death. And, first, they did privily suborn certain
which should detect and accuse the Christians whom they had found
out, or had laid wait for. Upon this the sword, the gibbet, the
wheel, and the whips where brought forth; at the terrible sight
whereof the hearts of all the beholders did shake and tremble. Some
for fear did fly, some did stand in doubt what to do, certain were so
terrified at the beholding of these engines and tormenting
instruments, that they denied their faith. Some others began the
game, and for a time did abide the conflict and agony of martyrdom;
but, vanquished at length by the intolerable pain of their torments,
made shipwreck of their consciences, and lost the glory of their
confession. Among others, forty there were
at that time, young gentlemen, all soldiers, which, after the marshal
had showed the emperor's edict, and required of all men the obedience
of the same, freely and boldly of their own accord confessed
themselves to be Christians, and declared to him their names. The
marshal, somewhat amazed at this their boldness of speech, standeth
in doubt what was best to do. Yet forthwith he goeth about to win
them with fair words, advertising them to consider their youth,
neither that they should change a sweet and pleasant life for a cruel
and untimely death: after that he promiseth them money and honourable
offices in the emperor's name. But they, little esteeming all these
things, brake forth into a long and bold oration, affirming that they
did neither desire life, dignity, nor money, but only the celestial
kingdom of Christ; saying, further, that they are ready, for the love
and faith they have in God, to endure the affliction of the wheel,
the cross, and the fire. The rude marshal, being herewith offended,
devised a new kind of punishment. He spied out in the middle of the
city a certain great pond, which lay full upon the cold northern
wind, for it was in the winter time, wherein he caused them to be put
all that night; but they being merry, and comforting one another,
received this their appointed punishment, and said, as they were
putting off their clothes, We put off (said they) not our clothes,
but we put off the old man, corrupt with the deceit of concupiscence;
we give thee thanks, O Lord, that with this our apparel we may also
put off, by thy grace, the sinful man; for by means of the serpent we
once put him on, and by the means of Jesus Christ we now put him off.
When they had thus said, they were brought naked into the place where
they left most vehement cold, insomuch that all the parts of their
bodies were stark and stiff therewith. As soon as it was day, they
yet having breath, were brought into the fire, wherein they were
consumed, and their ashes thrown into the flood. By chance there was
one of the company more lively, and not so near dead as the rest, of
whom the executioners taking pity, said unto his mother standing by,
that they would save his life. But she, with her own hands taking her
son, brought him to the pile of wood, where the residue of his
fellows (crooked for cold) did lie ready to be burnt, and admonished
him to accomplish the blessed journey he had taken in hand with his
companions.

In this fellowship and company of martyrs cannot be left out and
forgot the story of Cyrus. This Cyrus was a physician, born in
Alexandria, which, flying into Egypt in the persecution of Dioclesian
and Maximian, led a solitary life in Arabia, being much spoken of for
his learning and miracles, unto whose company after a certain time
did Joannes, born in the city of Edessa, beyond the river Euphrates,
join himself, leaving the soldier's life, which before that time he
had exercised. But whilst as yet the same persecution raged in a city
in Egypt called Canope, there was cast into prison, for the
confession of their faith, a certain godly Christian woman, called
Athanasia, and her three daughters, Theoctiste, Theodota, and
Eudoxia, with whom Cyrus was well acquainted. At whose infirmities he
much fearing, accompanied with his brother John, came and visited
them for their better confirmation; at which time Lirianus was chief
captain and lieutenant of Egypt, of whose wickedness and cruelty,
especially against women and maidens, Athanasius maketh mention in
his Apologies, and in his Epistle to those that lead a solitary life.
This Cyrus, therefore, and Joannes, being accused and apprehended of
the heathen men, as by whose persuasions the maidens and daughters of
Athanasia contumeliously despised the gods and the emperor's
religion, and could by no means be brought to do sacrifice, were,
after the publication of their constant confession, put to death by
the sword; Athanasia also and her three daughters being condemned to
death.

Sebastian, being born in the part of France called Gallia
Narbonensis, was a Christian, and was lieutenant-general of the
vanguard of Dioclesian the emperor, who also encouraged many martyrs
of Christ by his exhortations unto constancy, and kept them in the
faith. He being therefore accused to the emperor, was commanded to be
apprehended, and that he should be brought into the open field, where
of his own soldiers he was thrust through the body with innumerable
arrows, and after that his body was thrown into a jakes or sink.
Ambrosius maketh mention of this Sebastian the martyr in his
Commentary upon the 118th Psalm; and Simeon Metaphrastes, amongst
other martyrs that suffered with Sebastian, numbereth also these
following; Nicostratus, with Zoe his wife, Tranquillinus, with Martin
his wife, Traglinus, Claudius, Castor, Tibertius, Castellus, Marcus,
and Marcellinus, with many others.

Basilius in another sermon also maketh mention of one Barlaam, being
a noble and famous martyr, which abode all the torments of the
executioners, even to the point of death; which thing when the
tormentors saw, they brought him and laid him upon the altar, where
they did use to offer sacrifices to their idols, and put fire and
frankincense into his right hand, wherein he had yet some strength,
thinking that the same his right hand, by the heat and force of the
fire, would have scattered the burning incense upon the altar, and so
have sacrificed. But of that their hope the pestiferous tormentors
were disappointed; for the flame eat round about his hand, and the
same endured as though it had been covered with hot embers, whenas
Barlaam recited out of the Psalms this saying, Blessed is the Lord my
God, which teacheth my hands to fight.

To this narration of Basilius, touching the martyrdom of Barlaam, we
will annex consequently another story of Ambrose. He making a certain
exhortation to certain virgins, in the same oration commendeth the
martyrdoms of Agricola and Vitalis, who suffered also in the same
persecution under Dioclesian and Maximinian (as they affirm) at
Bononnie. This Vitalis was servant to Agricola, who both together
between themselves had made a compact to give their lives with other
martyrs for the name of Christ. Whereupon Vitalis, being sent before
of his master to offer himself to martyrdom, fell first into the
hands of persecutors, who laboured about him by all means to cause
him to deny Christ. Which when he would in no case do, but stoutly
persisted in the confession of his faith, they began to exercise him
with all kind of torments, so unmercifully, that there was no whole
skin left on all his body. So Vitalis in the midst of the agony and
painful torments, after he had in a short prayer commended himself to
God, gave up his life. After him, the tormentors set upon Agricola
his master, whose virtuous manners and gentle conditions, because
they were singularly well liked and known to the enemies, his
suffering therefore was the longer deferred. But Agricola, not
abiding the long delay and driving off, and provoking moreover the
adversaries to quicker speed, at length was fastened unto the cross,
and so finished his martyrdom, which he so long desired.

No less worthy of commemoration is the lamentable martyrdom of
Vincentius, whose history here followeth. This Vincentius was a
Spaniard, and a Levite most godly and virtuous, who at this time
suffered martyrdom at Valence under Dacianus the president, as we may
gather by Prudentius in his hymn. Bergomensis in his Supplement
reciteth these words concerning his martyrdom, out of a certain
sermon of St. Augustine: Our heart conceived not a vain and fruitless
sight, (as it were in beholding of lamentable tragedies,) but
certainly a great sight and marvellous, and there with singular
pleasure received it, when the painful passion of victorious
Vincentius was read unto us. Is there any so heavy-hearted that will
not be moved in the contemplation of this immovable martyr, so manly,
or rather so godly, fighting against the craft and subtlety of that
serpent, against the tyranny of Dacianus, against the horrors of
death, and by the mighty Spirit of his God conquering all? But let us
in few words rehearse the degrees of his torments, though the pains
thereof in many words cannot be expressed. First, Dacianus caused the
martyr to be laid upon the torture, and all the joints of his body to
be distended and racked out, until they cracked again. This being
done in most extreme and cruel manner, all the members of his painful
and pitiful body were grievously indented with deadly wounds.
Thirdly, (that his dolours and griefs might be augmented,) they
miserably vexed his flesh with iron combs sharply filed. And to the
end the tormentors might vomit out all their vengeance on the meek
and mild martyr's flesh, the tormentors themselves also were vilely
scourged at the president's commandment. And lest his passion,
through want of pains, might seem imperfect, or else too easy, they
laid his body, being all out of joint, on a grate of iron, which when
they had opened with iron hooks, they seared it with fiery plates,
with hot burning salt sprinkling the same. Last of all, into a vile
dungeon was this mighty martyr drawn, the floor whereof first was
thick spread with the sharpest shells that might be gotten, his feet
then being fast locked in the stocks, there was he left alone without
all worldly comfort; but the Lord his God was with him, the Holy
Spirit of God (whose office is to comfort the godly afflicted) filled
his heart with joy and gladness. Hast thou prepared a terrible rack,
O cruel tyrant, O devouring lion, for the martyr's bed? The Lord
shall make that bed soft and sweet unto him. Rackest thou his bones
and joints all asunder? His bones, his joints, his hairs are all
numbered. Tormentest thou his flesh with mortal wounds? The Lord
shall pour abundantly into all his sores of his oil of gladness. Thy
scraping combs, thy sharp fleshhooks, thy hot searing irons, thy
parched salt, thy stinking prison, thy cutting shells, thy pinching
stocks, shall turn to this patient martyr to the best. All together
shall work contrary to thine expectation, great plenty of joy shall
he reap into the barn of his soul out of this mighty harvest of pains
that thou hast brought him into. Yea, thou shalt prove him Vincentius
indeed; that is, a vanquisher, a triumpher, a conqueror, subduing thy
madness by his meekness, thy tyranny by his patience, thy manifold
means of tortures by the manifold graces of God, wherewith he is
plentifully enriched.

In this catalogue or company of such holy martyrs as suffered in this
foresaid tenth persecution, many more and almost innumerable there be
expressed in authors beside them whom we have hitherto comprehended;
as Philoromus, a man of noble birth and great possessions in
Alexandria, who, being persuaded by his friends to favour himself, to
respect his wife, to consider his children and family, did not only
reject the counsels of them, but also neglected the threats and
torments of the judge, to keep the confession of Christ inviolate
unto the death, and losing of his head; of whom Eusebius beareth
witness that he was there present himself.

Of like estate and dignity was also Procopius in Palestina, who after
his conversion brake his images of silver and gold, and distributed
the same to the poor, and after all kind of torments, of racking, of
cording, of tearing his flesh, of goring and stabbing and of firing,
at length had his head also smitten off.

To this may be joined also Georgius, a young man of Cappadocia, who,
stoutly inveighing against the impious idolatry of the emperors, was
apprehended and cast into prison, then torn with hooked irons, burnt
with hot lime, stretched with cords, after that his hands and feet,
with other members of his body, being cut off, at last with a sword
had his head cut off.

With these aforenamed add also Sergius and Bacchius, Panthaleon, a
physician in Nicomedia, Theodorus, of the city of Amasia in
Hellespont, Faustus, a martyr of Egypt, Gereon, with three hundred
and eighteen fellow martyrs, who suffered at the same time.
Hermogenes, the president of Athens, who, being converted by the
constancy of one Menas and Eugraphus in their torments, suffered also
for the like faith. Item, Samonas Gurias and Abibus, mentioned in
Simeon Metaphrast. Hieron also, with certain of his confessors, under
Maximinus, mentioned in Metaphrastes. Judes and Domuas, who suffered
with many other martyrs above mentioned at Nicomedia, as recordeth
Meta phrastes. Enelasius, Maximinus, the emperor's officers, whom
Fausta the virgin in her torments converted. Also Thirsus, Lucius,
Callinicius, Apollonius, Philemon, Asilas, Leonides, with Arrianus,
president of Thebaide, Cyprianus likewise, a citizen of Antioch, who,
after he had continued a long time a filthy magician or sorcerer, at
length was converted and made a deacon, then a priest, and at last
the bishop of Antioch, of whom partly we touched somewhat before.
This Cyprian, with Justina, a virgin, suffered among the martyrs.
Item, Glicerius at Nicomedia, Felix, a minister, Fortunatus,
Achilleus, deacons in the city of Valent. Arthemius of Rome,
Ciriacus, deacon to Marcellus the bishop, Carpophorus, priest at
Thuscia, with Abundus his deacon. Item, Claudius, Sirinus, Antoninus,
which suffered with Marcellinus the bishop. Cucusatus, in the city of
Barcinona. Felix, bishop of Apulia, with Adauctus and Januarius his
priest, Fortunatus and Septimus his readers, who suffered in the city 
Venusina under Dioclesian.

No less admirable than wonderful was the constancy also of women and
maidens, who, in the same persecution, gave their bodies to the
torments, and their lives for the testimony of Christ, with no less
boldness of spirit than did the men themselves above specified, to
whom how much more inferior they were of bodily strength, so much
more worthy of praise they be, for their constant standing. Of whom
some examples here we mind (Christ willing) to infer, such as in our
stories and chronicles seem most notable, first beginning with
Eulalia, whose story we have taken out of the foresaid Prudentius, as
followeth.

In the west part of Spain, called Portugal, is a city great and
populous, named Emerita, wherein dwelt and was brought up a virgin,
born of noble parentage, whose name was Eulalia; which Emerita,
although for the situation thereof was both rich and famous, yet more
adorned and famous was the renown thereof, by the martyrdom, blood,
and sepulchre of this blessed virgin Eulalia. Twelve years of age was
she, and not much above, when she refused great and honourable offers
in marriage, as one not skilful nor yet delighting in courtly
dalliance, neither yet taking pleasure in purple and gorgeous
apparel, or else in precious balms, or costly ornaments and jewels;
but forsaking and despising all these and such-like pompous
allurements, then showed she herself most busy in preparing her
journey to her hoped inheritance and heavenly patronage. Which
Eulalia, as she was modest and discreet in behaviour, sage and sober
in conditions, so was she also witty and sharp in answering her
enemies. But when the furious rage of persecution enforced her to
join herself amongst God's children in the household of faith, and
when the Christians were commanded to offer incense and sacrifice to
devils or dead gods, then began the blessed spirit of Eulalia to
kindle; and being of a prompt and ready wit, thought forthwith (as a
courageous captain) to give a charge upon this so great and
disordered a battle; and so she, silly woman, pouring out the bowels
of her innocent heart before God, more provoketh thereby the force
and rage of her enemies against her. But the godly care of her
parents, fearing lest the willing mind of this damsel, so ready to
die for Christ's cause, might make her guilty of her own death, hid
her and kept her close at their house in the country, being a great
way out of the city. She yet misliking that quiet life, as also
detesting to make such delay, softly stealeth out of the doors (no
man knowing thereof) in the night; and in great haste leaving the
common way, openeth the hedge gaps, and with weary feet (God knoweth)
passed through the thorny and briery places, accompanied yet with
spiritual guard; and although dark and dreadful was the silent night,
yet had she with her the Lord and Giver of light. And as the children
of Israel, coming out of Egypt, had, by the mighty power of God, a
cloudy pillar for their guide in the day, and a flame of fire in the
night; so had this godly virgin, travelling in this dark night, when
she, flying and forsaking the place where all filthy idolatry
abounded, and hastened her heavenly journey, was not oppressed with
the dreadful darkness of the night; but yet she, before the day
appeared, in this her speedy journey, with herself considered and
mused on a thousand matters and more.

In the morning betime, with a bold courage, she goeth unto the
tribunal or judgment-seat and in the midst of them all with a loud
voice crying out, said, I pray you, what a shame is it for you thus
rashly and without advisement to destroy and kill men's souls, and to
throw their bodies alive against the rocks, and cause them to deny
the omnipotent God! Would you know, O you unfortunate, what I am?
Behold, I am one of the Christians, an enemy to your devilish
sacrifices; I spurn your idols under my feet, I confess God
omnipotent with my heart and mouth, Isis, Apollo, and Venus, what are
they? Maximinus himself, what is he? The one a thing of nought, for
that they be the works of men's hands; the other but a castaway,
because he worshippeth the same work. Therefore frivolous are they
both, and both not worthy to be set by. Maximinus is a lord of
substance, and yet he himself falleth down before a stone, and voweth
the honour of his dignity unto those that are much inferior to his
vassals. Why then doth he oppress so tyrannically more worthy
stomachs and courages than himself? He must needs be a good guide and
an upright judge which feedeth upon innocent blood, and breathing in
the bodies of godly men, doth rend and tear their bowels, and, that
more is, hath his delight in destroying and subverting the faith.

Go to therefore, thou hangman, burn, cut, and mangle thou these
earthly members. It is an easy matter to break a brittle substance,
but the inward mind shalt thou not hurt for any thing thou canst do.
The pretor then, or judge, with these words of hers, set in a great
rage, saith, Hangman, take her and pull her out by the hair of her
head, and torment her to the uttermost; let her feel the power of our
country gods, and let her know what the imperial government of a
prince is. But yet, O thou
sturdy girl, fain would I have thee (if it were possible) before thou
die to revoke this thy wickedness. Behold what pleasures thou mayest
enjoy by the honourable house thou camest of; thy fallen house and
progeny followeth thee to death with lamentable tears, and the heavy
nobility of thy kindred maketh doleful lamentation for thee. What
meanest thou? Wilt thou kill thyself, so young a flower, and so near
these honourable marriages and great dowries thou mayest enjoy? Doth
not the glistering and golden pomp of the bride-bed move thee? Doth
not the reverend piety of thine ancestors prick thee? Whom is it not
but that this thy rashness and weakness grieveth? Behold here the
furniture ready prepared for thy terrible death: either shalt thou be
beheaded with this sword, or else with these wild beasts shalt thou
be pulled in pieces, or else thou, being cast into the fiery flames,
shalt be (although lamentably bewailed of thy friends and kinsfolks)
consumed to ashes. What great matter is it for thee, I pray thee, to
escape all this? If thou wilt but take and put with thy fingers a
little salt and incense into the censers, thou shalt be delivered
from all these punishments. To this Eulalia made no answer, but being
in a great fury, she spitteth in the tyrant's face, she throweth down
the idols, and spurneth abroad with her feet the heap of incense
prepared to the censers. Then, without further delay, the hangmen
with both their strengths took her, and pulled one joint from
another, and with the talons of wild beasts scotched her sides to the
hard bones; she all this while singing and praising God in this wise:
Behold, O Lord, I will not forget thee: what a pleasure is it for
them, O Christ, that remember thy triumphant victories, to attain
unto these high dignities! and still called upon that holy name, all
stained and imbrued with her own blood. This sang she with a bold
voice, neither lamentingly nor yet weepingly, but being glad and
merry, abandoning from her mind all heaviness and grief, even when
out of a warm fountain and from her mangled members the fresh blood
bathed her white and fair skin. Then proceeded they to the last and
final torment, which was not only the goring and wounding of her
mangled body with the iron grate and hurdle, and terrible harrowing
of her flesh, but the burning on every side with flaming torches of
her tormented breasts and sides: her hair hanging about her
shoulders, in two parts divided, (wherewith her shame-faced chastity
and virginity was covered,) reached down to the ground. But when the
crackling flame fleeth about her face, kindled by her hair, and
reacheth the crown of her head, then she, desiring swift death,
openeth her mouth and swalloweth the flame, and so rested she in
peace.

(Illustration: Martrydom of St. Eulalia )


Prudentius and Ado, also Equilinus, add moreover, writing of a white
dove issuing out of her mouth at her departing, and of the fire
quenched about her body, also of her body covered miraculously with
snow, with other things more, whereof let every reader use his own
judgment.

As ye have heard now the Christian life and constant death of
Eulalia, much worthy of praise and commendation; so no less
commendation is worthy to be given to blessed Agnes, that constant
damsel and martyr of God, who, as she was in Rome of honourable
parents begotten, so lieth she there as honourably entombed and
buried. Which Agnes, for her unspotted and undefiled virginity,
deserved no less praise and commendation than for her willing death
and martyrdom. Some writers make of her a long discourse, more in my
judgment than necessary, reciting divers and sundry strange miracles
by her done in the process of her history; which, partly for
tediousness, partly for the doubtfulness of the author, (whom some
father upon Ambrose,) and partly for the strangeness and
incredibility thereof, I omit, being satisfied with that which
Prudentius briefly writeth of her, as followeth: She was (saith he)
young, and not marriageable, when first she, being dedicated to
Christ, boldly resisted the wicked edicts of the emperor, lest that
through idolatry she might have denied and forsaken the holy faith;
but yet though proved by divers and sundry policies to induce her to
the same, (as now with the flattering and enticing words of the
judge, now with the threatenings of the storming executioner,) she
stood notwithstanding stedfast in all courageous strength, and
willingly offered her body to hard and painful torments, not refusing
(as she said) to suffer whatsoever it should be, yea, though it were
death itself. Then said the cruel tyrant, If to suffer pain and
torment be so easy a matter and lightly regarded of thee, and that
thou accountest thy life nothing worth, yet the shame of thy
dedicated or vowed virginity is a thing more regarded I know, and
esteemed of thee. Wherefore this is determined, that unless thou wilt
make obeisance unto the altar of Minerva, and ask forgiveness of her
for thy arrogancy, thou shalt be sent or abandoned to the common
stews or brothel-house. Agnes the virgin, with more spirit than
vehemency, inveigheth against both Minerva and her virginity. The
youth in crowds flock and run together, and crave that they may have
Agnes their libidinous prey. Then saith Agnes, Christ is not so
forgetful of those that be his, that he will suffer violently to be
taken from them their golden and pure chastity, neither will he leave
them so destitute of help; he is always at hand and ready to fight
for such as are shame-faced and chaste virgins, neither suffereth he
his gifts of holy integrity or chastity to he polluted. Thou shalt,
saith she, willingly bathe thy sword in my blood if thou wilt, but
thou shalt not defile my body with filthy lust for any thing thou
canst do. She had no sooner spoken these words, but he commanded that
she should be set naked at the corner of some street (which place at
that time such as were strumpets commonly used); the greater part of
the multitude, both sorrowing and shaming to see so shameless a
sight, went their ways, some turning their heads, some hiding their
faces. But one amongst the rest with uncircumcised eyes beholding the
damsel, and that in such opprobrious wise, behold a flame of fire
like unto a flash of lightning falleth upon him, and striketh his
eyes out of his head; whereupon he for dead falling unto the ground,
sprawleth in the kennel dirt; whose companions taking him up, and
carrying him away, bewailed him as a dead man; but the virgin, for
this her miraculous delivery from the danger and shame of that place,
singeth praises to God and Christ.

There be (saith Prudentius) that report, how that she, being desired
to pray unto Christ for the party that a little before with fire from
heaven for his incontinency was stricken, was restored by her prayer
both unto his perfect health and sight. But blessed Agnes, after that
she had climbed this her first grief and step unto the heavenly
palace, forth with began to climb another; for fury engendering now
the mortal wrath of her bloody enemy, wringing his hands, he crieth
out, saying, I am undone, o thou the executioner, draw out thy sword,
and do thine office that the emperor hath appointed thee. And when
Agnes saw a sturdy and cruel fellow (to behold) stand behind her, or
approaching near to her with a naked sword in his hand; I am now
gladder, saith she, and rejoice that such a one as thou, being a
stout, fierce, strong, and sturdy soldier, art come, than one more
feeble, weak, and faint should come, or else any other young man
sweetly embalmed, and wearing gay apparel, that might destroy me with
funeral shame. This, even this, is he, I now confess, that I do love.
I will make haste to meet him, and will no longer protract my longing
desire. I will willingly receive into my paps the length of his
sword, and into my breast will draw the force thereof even unto the
hilts, that thus I being married unto Christ my spouse, may surmount
and escape all the darkness of this world, that reacheth even unto
the skies, O eternal Governor, vouchsafe! to open the gates of
heaven, once shut up against all the inhabitants of the earth, and
receive, O Christ, my soul that seeketh thee. Thus speaking, and
kneeling upon her knees, she prayeth unto Christ above in heaven,
that her neck might be the readier for the sword, now hanging over
the same. The executioner then with his bloody hand finished her
hope, and at one stroke cutteth off her head, and by such short and
swift death doth he prevent her of the pain thereof.

I have oftentimes before complained, that the stories of saints have
been powdered and sauced with divers untrue additions and fabulous
inventions of men, who either of a superstitious devotion, or of a
subtle practice, have so mangled their stories and lives, that almost
nothing remaineth in them simple and uncorrupt, as in the usual
portions wont to be read for daily service is manifest and evident to
be seen; wherein few legends there be able to abide the touch of
history, if they were truly tried. This I write upon the occasion
specially of good Katharine, whom now I have in hand; in whom
although I nothing doubt but in her life was great holiness, in her
knowledge excellency, in her death constancy; yet that all things be
true that be storied of her, neither dare I affirm, neither am I
bound so to think; so many strange fictions of her be feigned
diversly of divers writers, whereof some seem incredible, some also
impudent. As where Petrus de Natalibus, writing of her conversion,
declareth, how that Katharine sleeping before a certain picture or
table of the crucifix, Christ with his mother Mary appeared unto her;
and when Mary had offered her unto Christ to be his wife, he first
refused her for her blackness. The next time, she being baptized,
Mary appearing again, offered her to marry with Christ, who then
being liked, was espoused to him and married, having a golden ring
the same time put on her finger in her sleep, &c. Bergomensis writeth
thus, that because she in the sight of the people openly resisted the
emperor Maxentius to his face, and rebuked him for his cruelty,
therefore she was commanded and committed upon the same to prison,
which seemeth hitherto not much to digress from truth. It followeth,
moreover, that the same night an angel came to her, comforting and
exhorting her to be strong and constant unto the martyrdom, for that
she was a maid accepted in the sight of God, and that the Lord would
be with her for whose honour she did fight, and that he would give
her a mouth and wis dom which her enemies should not withstand; with 
many other things more which I here omit. As this also I omit
concerning the fifty philosophers, whom she in disputation convicted
and converted unto our religion, and died martyrs for the same. Item,
of the converting of Porphyrius, kinsman to Maxentius, and Faustina,
the emperor's wife. At length, (saith the story,) after she proved
the rack, and the four sharp cutting wheels, having at last her head
cut off with the sword, so she finished her martyrdom, about the year
of our Lord (as Antoninus affirmeth) three hundred and ten. Simeon
Metaphrastes, writing of her, discourseth the same more at large, to
whom they may resort which covet more therein to be satisfied.

Among the works of Basil a certain oration is extant concerning
Julitta the martyr, who came to her martyrdom (as he witnesseth) by
this occasion. A certain avaricious and greedy person of great
authority, and (as it may appear) the emperor's deputy, or other like
officer, (who abused the decrees and laws of the emperor against the
Christians, to his own lucre and gain,) violently took from this
Julitta all her goods, lands, chattels, and servants, contrary to all
equity and right. She made her pitiful complaint to the judges: a day
was appointed when the cause should be heard. The spoiled woman and
the spoiling extortioner stood forth together; the woman lamentably
declareth her cause, the man frowningly beholdeth her face. When she
had proved that of good right the goods were her own, and that
wrongfully he had dealt with her, the wicked and blood-thirsty
wretch, preferring the worldly substance before the precious
substance of a Christian body, affirmed her action to be of no force,
for that she was an outlaw, in not observing the emperor's gods,
since her Christian faith hath been first abjured. His allegation was
allowed as good and reasonable. Whereupon incense and fire were
prepared for her to worship the gods, which, unless she would do,
neither the emperor's protection, nor laws, nor judgment, nor life,
should she enjoy in that commonwealth. When this handmaid of the Lord
heard these words, she said, Farewell life, welcome death; farewell
riches, welcome poverty. All that I have, if it were a thousand times
more, would I rather lose, than to speak one wicked and blasphemous
word against God my Creator. I yield thee thanks most hearty, O my
God, for this gift of grace, that I can contemn and despise this
frail and transitory world, esteeming Christian profession above all
treasures. Henceforth when any question was demanded, her answer was,
I am the servant of Jesus Christ. Her kindred and acquaintance
flocking to her, advertised her to change her mind. But that
vehemently she refused, with detestation of their idolatry. Forthwith
the judge, with the sharp sword of sentence, not only cutteth off all
her goods and possessions, but judgeth her also to the fire most
cruelly. The joyful martyr embraceth the sentence as a thing most
sweet and delectable. She addresseth herself to the flames in
countenance, gesture, and words, declaring the joy of her heart,
coupled with singular constancy. To the women beholding her,
sententiously she spake: Stick not, O sisters, to labour and travail
after true piety and godliness. Cease to accuse the fragility of
feminine nature. What! are not we created of the same matter that men
are? Yea, after God's image and similitude are we made, as lively as
they. Not flesh only God used in the creation of the woman, in sign
and token of her infirmity and weakness; but bone of bones is she, in
token that she must be strong in the true and living God, all false
gods forsaken; constant in faith, all infidelity renounced; patient
in adversity, all worldly ease refused. Wax weary, my dear sisters,
of your lives led in darkness, and be in love with my Christ, my God,
my Redeemer, my Comforter, which is the true Light of the world.
Persuade yourselves, or rather the Spirit of the living God persuade
you, that there is a world to come, wherein the worshippers of idols
and devils shall be tormented perpetually, the servants of the high
God shall be crowned eternally. With these words she embraced the
fire, and sweetly slept in the Lord.

There have been moreover, beside these above recited, divers godly
women and faithful martyrs; as Barbara, a noble woman in Thuscia,
who, after miserable prisonment, sharp cords, and burning flames put
to her sides, was at last beheaded. Also Fausta, the virgin which
suffered under Maximinus, by whom Euelasius, a ruler of the emperor's
palace, and Maximinus the president, were both converted, and also
suffered martyrdom, as witnesseth Metaphrastes. Item, Juliana, a
virgin of singular beauty in Nicomedia, who, after divers agonies,
suffered likewise under Maximinus. Item, Anasia, a maid of
Thessalonica, who under the said Maximinus suffered. Justina, which
suffered with Cyprianus, bishop of Antioch; not to omit also Tecla,
although most writers do record that she suffered under Nero. All
which holy maids and virgins glorified the Lord Christ with their
constant martyrdom, in this tenth and last persecution of Dioclesian.

During the time of which persecution these bishops of Rome succeeded
one after another: Caius, who succeeded next after Xistus before
mentioned, Marcellinus, Marcellus, (of whom Eusebius, in his story,
maketh no mention,) Eusebius, and then Miltiades; all which died
martyrs in the tempest of this persecution. First, Marcellinus, after
the martyrdom of Caius, was ordained bishop; he, being brought by
Dioclesian to the idols, first yielded to their idolatry, and was
seen to sacrifice; wherefore, being excommunicated by the Christians,
he fell into such repentance, that he returned again to Dioclesian,
where he, standing to his former confession, and publicly condemning
the idolatry of the heathen, recovered the crown of martyrdom,
suffering with Claudius, Cyrinus, and Antoninus.

Marcellus likewise was urged of Maxentius to renounce his bishopric
and religion, and to sacrifice with them to idols, which, when he
constantly refused, was beaten with cudgels, and so expelled the
city. Then he, entering into the house of Lucina, a widow, assembled
there the congregation, which, when it came to the ears of Maxentius
the tyrant, he turned the house of Lucina into a stable, and made
Marcellus the keeper of the beasts; who, with the stink thereof and
miserable handling, was put to death. Eusebius sat bishop of Rome
seven months, Marianus Scotus saith eight months, Damasus affirmeth
six years; Sabellicus allegeth certain authors that say that he was
slain by Maximianus, but correcteth that himself, affirming that
Maximianus died before him.

Miltiades, by the testimony of Platina and others that follow him,
sat three years and seven months, and suffered under Maximianus. But
that seemeth not to be true, as both Sabelilcus doth rightly note,
affirming that the same cannot stand by the supputation of time;
forasmuch as the said Galerius Maximianus reigned but two years, and
died before Miltiades. Also Eusebius manifestly expresseth the
example of a letter of Constantine written to this Militiades, bishop
of Rome. plainly convicting that to be false which Platina affirmeth.

In the book collected of general councils, among the decretal
epistles, there is a long tractation about the judgment and
condemnation of Marcellinus; whereof the masters and patrons of
popery in these our days take great hold to prove the supremacy of
the pope to be above all general councils, and that he ought not to
be subject to the condemnation of any person or persons. The
circumstance and proceeding of this judgment, if rightly weighed,
maketh very little to the purpose of these men. Neither is it true
that the bishops of this Council of Sinuesse did not condemn
Marcellinus, for the words of the council be plain: They subscribed,
therefore, to his condemnation, and condemned him to be expelled out
of the city. Moreover, by the said Council were brought in the forty-
two witnesses against Marcellinus. In the said Council, the verdict
of the same witnesses was demanded, and also received. Furthermore,
Quirinus, one of the bishops, there openly protested, that he would
not depart the Council before the malice of the bishops was revealed.
What doth all this declare, but that the bishop of Rome was called
there, and did appear before the judgment-seat of the Council, and
there stood subject to their sentence and authority, by the which he
was expelled out of the city? As for the words of the Council,
whereupon our papists stand so much: Thou wilt be condemned not by
our judgment, but by your own. With your own mouth determine your own
cause. These words import not here the authority of the Roman bishop
to be above the Council; neither do they declare what the Council
could not do, but what they would and wished rather to be done, that
is, that he should rather acknowledge his Crime before God and them,
with a voluntary yielding of his heart, than that the confession of
such a heinous fact should be extorted from him through their
condemnation, for that they saw to be expedient for his soul's
health; otherwise their condemnation should serve him to small
purpose; and so it came to pass. For he being urged of them to
condemn himself, so did, prostrating himself and weeping before them.
Whereupon immediately they proceeded to the sentence against him,
condemning and pronouncing him to be expelled the city. Now whether
by this may be gathered that the bishop of Rome ought not to be
cited, accused, and condemned by any person or persons, let the
indifferent reader judge simply.

As touchihg the decretal epistles, which he entitled under the names
of these foresaid bishops, whoso well adviseth them, and with
judgment will examine the stile, the time, the argument, the hanging
together of the matter, and the constitutions in them contained,
(little serving to any purpose, and nothing serving for those
troublesome days then present,) may easily discern them either in no
part to be theirs, or much of the same to be elouted and patched by
the doings of others, which lived in other times, especially seeing
all the constitutions in them for the most part tend to the setting
up and to exalt the see of Rome above all other bishops and churches,
and to reduce all causes and appeals to the said see of Rome. So the
epistle of Caius, beginning with the commendation of the authority of
his see, endeth after the same tenor, willing and commanding all
difficult questions in all provinces whatsoever emerging to be
referred to the see apostolical. Moreover, the greatest part of the
said epistle is contained in the epistle of Leo unto Leo the emperor;
and so rightly agreeth in all points with the style of Leo, that
evident it is the same to be borrowed out of Leo, and to be patched
into the epistle of Caius out of Leo.

Likewise the epistle of Marcellinus, to get more authority with the
reader, is admired with a great part of Paul's Epistle to the
Ephesians, word for word. And how it is like that Marcellinus, which
died in the twentieth year of Dioclesian, could write of
consubstantiality of the Divine Persons, when that controversy and
term of consubstantiality was not beard of in the church before the
Nicene Council, which was twenty-three years after him? But
especially the two epistles of Marcellus bewray themselves, so that
for the confuting thereof needeth no other probation more than only
the reading of the same. Such a glorious style of ambition therein
doth appear, as it is easy to be understood not to proceed either
from such a humble martyr, or to savour any thing of the misery of
such a time. His words of his first epistle, written unto the
brethren of Antioch, and alleged in the pope's decrees by Gratianus,
are these:

"We desire you, brethren, that you do not teach nor conceive any
other thing but as ye have received of the blessed apostle St. Peter,
and of other apostles and fathers. For of him ye were first of all
instructed; wherefore you must not forsake your own father, and
follow others. For he is the head of the whole church, to whom the
Lord said, 'Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my
church,' &c. Whose seat was first with you in Antioch, which
afterward, by the commandment of the Lord, was translated from thence
to Rome, of the which church of Rome I am this day placed (by the
grace of God) to be the governor. From the which church of Rome
neither ought you to separate yourselves, seeing to the same church
all manner of causes ecclesiastical being of any importance (God's
grace so disposing) are commanded to be referred; by the same to be
ordered regularly, from whence they took their first beginning," &c.
And followeth consequently upon the same, "And if your church of
Antioch, which was once the first, will now yield herself unto the
see of Rome, there is no other church else that will not subject
itself to our do minion; to whom all other bishops whosoever, as they
must needs do, (according to the decrees of the apostles and their
successors,) ought to fly, as to have their head, and must appeal to
the same, there to have their redress and their protection, from
whence they took their first instruction and consecration," &c.

Whether this be like matter to proceed from the spirit of Marcellus,
that blessed martyr, in those so dreadful days, I say no more, but
only desire the gentle reader to judge.

In his second epistle, moreover, the said Marcellus, writing to
Maxentius the bloody tyrant, first reprehendeth him for his cruelty,
sharply admonishing him how and what to do; to learn and seek the
true religion of God, to maintain his church, to honour and reverence
the priests of God; and especially exhorteth him to charity, and that
he would cease from persecution, &c. All this is possible and like to
be true. But now mark, good reader, what blanched stuff here followed
withal; as where he, alleging the statutes and sanctions of his
predecessors, declareth and discusseth that no bishop nor minister
ought to be persecuted or deprived of his goods. And if they be, then
ought they to have their possessions and places again restored by the
law, before they were bound by the law to answer to their accusations
laid in against them; and so after that, in convenient time, to be
called to a council; the which council notwithstanding, without the
authority of the holy see, cannot proceed regularly, albeit it remain
in his power to assemble certain bishops together. Neither can he
regularly condemn any bishop appealing to this his apostolical see
before the sentence definitive do proceed from the foresaid see, &c.
And it followeth after, And therefore (saith he) let no bishop, of
what crime soever he be attached, come to his accusation or be heard,
but in his own ordinary synod at his convenient time; the regular and
apostolical authority being joined withal. Moreover, in the said
epistle, writing unto Maxentius, he decreeth that no laymen, or any
suspected bishop, ought to accuse prelates of the church: "So that if
they be either laymen, or men of evil conversation, or proved
manifest enemies, or incensed with any hatred, their accusations
against any bishops ought not to stand," with other such matters,
concerning the disposition of a judicial court. Which matter, if Pope
Gregory the Seventh had written unto Henry the Third, emperor, or if
Pope Alexander the Third had written to the Emperor Fredericus the
First, it might have stood with some reason and opportunity of time,
But now for Marcellus to write these decrees, in such persecution of
the church, to Maxentius, the heathen and most cruel emperor, how
unlike it is to be true, and how it served then to purpose, the
reader may soon discern. And yet these be the epistles and
constitutions decretal whereby (under the pretended title of the
fathers) all churches of late time, and all ecclesiastical causes,
have been, and yet are, in this realm of England to this day
governed, directed, and disposed.

The like discussion and examination I might also make of the other
epistles that follow of Eusebius and Miltiades, which all tend to the
same scope, that no prelate or bishop ought to come to his answer
before they be orderly and fully restored again to their possessions.
Who, moreover, in the said their epistles still harp upon this key of
the Scripture, "Thou art Peter, and upon this rock will I build my
church." Declaring, moreover, that this privilege of judging all men,
and to be judged of no man, but only to be left to the judgment of
the Lord was given to this foresaid holy see of Rome from time of the
apostles, and chiefly left with Peter the holy key-keeper: so that
although the election of the apostles was equal, yet this was chiefly
granted to St. Peter, to have pre-eminence above the rest. Concluding
in the end hereby, That always all greater causes, as be the matters
of bishops, and such other cares of weighty importance, should be
brought to the see of St. Peter, the blessed prince of the apostles,
&c. These be the words of Miltiades and Eusebius, whereby it may
partly be smelled, of him that hath any nose, what was the meaning of
them which forged these writings and letters upon these ancient holy
martyrs.

This I cannot but marvel at, in the third epistle of Eusebius the
bishop of Rome, that whereas Marcellinus, his late predecessor
before, in his own time and remembrance did fall so horribly, and was
condemned for the same justly to be expulsed the city by the council
of three hundred bishops; yet notwithstanding the foresaid Euesebius,
in his third epistle, alleging that place of Tu es Petrus, bringeth
in for a proof of the same, and saith, For in the apostolical see
always the catholic religion hath been preserved without any spot or
blemish.

But howsoever the forgers of these decretal epistles have forgotten
themselves, most certain it is, that these holy bishops, unto whom
they were and are ascribed, lived perfect good men, and died blessed
martyrs. Of whom this Miltiades was the last among all the bishops of
Rome here in the west church of Europe that ever was in danger of
persecution to be martyred yet to this present day.

And thus have ye heard the stories and names of such blessed saints
which suffered in the time of persecution, from the nineteenth year
of Dioclesian to the seventh and last year of Maxentius, described,
with the deaths also and plagues upon these tormentors and cruel
tyrants, which were the cap tains of the same persecution. And here
cometh in (blessed be Christ) the end of these persecutions here in
these west churches of Europe, so far as the dominion of blessed
Constantine did chiefly extend.

Yet notwithstanding in Asia all persecution as yet ceased not for the
space of four years, as above is mentioned, by the means of wicked
Licinius, under whom divers there were holy and constant martyrs that
suffered grievous torments; as Hermilus, a deacon, and Stratonicus, a
keeper of the prison, both which, after their punishments sustained,
were strangled in the flood Ister. Also Thodorus the captain, who,
being sent for of Licinius, because he would not come, and because he
brake his gods in pieces, and gave them to the poor, therefore was
fastened to the cross, and after being pierced with sharp pricks or
bodkins in the secret parts of his body, was at last beheaded. Add to
these also Miles, who, being first a soldier, was afterward made
bishop of a certain city in Persia, where he, seeing himself could do
no good to convert them, after many tribulations and great
afflictions among them, cursed the city and departed; which city
shortly after, by Sapores king of Persia, was destroyed.



13. PERSECUTIONS IN PERSIA

In the same country of Persia, about this time suffered, under
Sapores the king, (as recordeth Simeon Metasthenes,) divers valiant
and constant martyrs; as Acindimus, Pegasius, Anempodistus,
Epidephorus, also Simeon, archbishop of Seleucia, with Ctesiphon,
another bishop in Persia, with other ministers and religious men of
that region, to the number of one hundred and twenty-eight. Of this
Simeon and Ctesiphon thus writeth Sozomen That the idolatrous
magicians in Persia, taking counsel together against the Christians,
accused Simeon and Ctesiphon to Sapores the king, for that they were
grateful and accepted unto the Roman emperor, and bewrayed to him
such things as were done in the land of Persia. Whereupon Sapores,
being moved, took great displeasure against the Christians,
oppressing them with taxes and tributes unto their utter
impoverishing, killing all their priests with the sword; after that
calleth for Simeon the archbishop, who there before the king declared
himself a worthy and a valiant captain of Christ's church. For when
Sapores had commanded him to be led to suffer torments, he neither
shrunk for any fear, nor showed any great humble suit of submission
for any pardon; whereat the king partly marvelling, partly offended,
asked why he did not kneel down as he was wont before to do. Simeon
to this answered:. For that, saith he, before this time I was not
brought unto you in bonds to betray the true God, as I am now; and so
long I refused not to accomplish that which the order and custom of
the realm of me required; but now it is not lawful for me so to do,
for now I come to stand in defence of our religion and true doctrine.
When Simeon thus had answered, the king, persisting in his purpose,
offereth to him the choice, either to worship with him after his
manner, (promising to him many great gifts if he would so do,) or, if
he would not, threateneth to him, and to all the other Christians
within his land, destruction. But Simeon, neither allured with his
promises, nor terrified with his threatenings, continued constant in
his doctrine professed, so as neither he could be induced to
idolatrous worship, nor yet to betray the truth of his religion. For
the which cause he was committed into bonds, and there commanded to
be kept to the king's pleasure further known.

It befell in the way, as he was going to the prison, there was
sitting at the king's gate a certain eunuch, an old tutor or
schoolmaster of the king's, named Usthazares, who had been once a
Christian, and afterward, falling from his profession, fell with the
heathenish multitude to their idolatry. This Usthazares, sitting at
the door of the kings palace, and seeing Simeon passing by led to the
prison, rose up and reverenced the bishop. Simeon again with sharp
words (as the time would suffer) rebuked him, and in great anger
cried out against him, which, being once a Christian, would so
cowardly revolt from his profession, and to return again to the
heathenish idolatry. At the hearing of these words the eunuch,
forthwith bursting out into tears, laying away his courtly apparel,
which was sumptuous and costly, and putting upon him a black and
mourning weed, sitteth before the court gates weeping and bewailing,
thus saying with himself: Woe is me! with what hope, with what face
shall I look hereafter for my God, which have denied my God, whenas
this Simeon, my familiar acquaintance, thus passing by me, so much
disdaineth me, that he refuseth with one gentle word to salute me!

These words being brought to the ears of the king, (as such tale-
carriers never lack in princes' courts,) procured against him no
little indignation. Whereupon Sapores the king sending for him, first
with gentle words and courtly promises began to speak him fair,
asking him what cause he had so to mourn, and whether there was any
thing in his house which was denied him, or which he had not at his
own will and asking. Whereunto Usthazares answering again, said, that
there was no thing in that earthly house which was to him lacking, or
whereunto his desire stood. Yea, would God, (said he.) O king, any
other grief or calamity in all the world, whatsoever it were, had
happened to me rather than this, for the which I do most justly mourn
and sorrow. For this sorroweth me, that I am this day alive, who
should rather have died long since, and that I see this sun, which,
against my heart and mind, for your pleasure dissemblingly I appeared
to worship; for which cause double wise I am worthy of death: first,
for that I have denied Christ; secondly, because I did dissemble with
you. And continuing upon these words, and swearing by Him that made
both heaven and earth, he affirmed most certainly, that although he
had played the fool before, he would never be so mad again, as,
instead of the Creator and Maker of all things, to worship the
creatures which he had made and created. Sapores the king being
astonied at the so sudden alteration of this man, and doubting with
himself whether to be angry with those enehanters or with him,
whether to entreat him with gentleness or with rigour, at length in
this mode commanded the said Usthazares, his old ancient servant, and
first tutor and bringer up of his youth, to be had away, and to be
beheaded. As he was going to the place of execution, he desired of
the executioners a little to stay, while he might send a message unto
the king, which was this, (sent in by certain of the king's most
trusty eunuchs,) desiring him, that, for all the old and faithful
service he had done to his father and to him, he would now requite
him with this one office again, to cause to be cried openly by a
public crier in these words following; That Usthazares was beheaded,
not for any treachery or crime committed against the king or the
realm, but only for that he was a Christian, and would not at the
king's pleasure deny his God. And so according unto his request it
was performed and granted. For this cause did Usthazares so much
desire the cause of his death to be published, because that as his
shrinking back from Christ was a great occasion to many Christians to
do the like; so now the same, hearing that Usthazares died for no
other cause but only for the religion of Christ, should learn
likewise by his example to be fervent and constant in that which they
profess. And thus this blessed eunuch did consummate his martyrdom.
Of the which his said martyrdom Simeon, being in prison, hearing, was
very joyful, and gave God thanks; who, in the next day following,
being brought forth before the king, and constantly refusing to
condescend unto the king's request, to worship visible creatures, was
likewise by the commandment of the king beheaded, with a great number
more, which the same day also did suffer, to the number (as is said)
of a hundred and more; all which were put to death before Simeon, he
standing by and exhorting them with comfortable words; admonishing
them to stand firm and stedfast in the Lord; preaching and teaching
them concerning death, resurrection, and true piety; and proved by
the Scriptures that to be true which he had said: declaring moreover
that to be true life indeed so to die, and that to be death indeed to
deny or betray God for fear of punishment; and added, further, that
there was no man alive but needs once must die; "Forsomuch as to all
men is appointed necessarily here to have an end; but those things
which after this life follow hereafter to be eternal, which neither
shall come to all men after one sort. But as the condition and trade
of life in divers men doth differ, and is not in all men like; so the
time shall come when all men in a moment shall render and receive
according to their doings in this present life immortal rewards; such
as have here done well, of life and glory; such as have done
contrary, of perpetual punishment. As touching therefore our well-
doing, here is no doubt but, of all other our holy actions and
virtuous deeds, there is no higher or greater deed than if a man here
lose his life for his Lord God." With these words of comfortable
exhortation the holy martyrs, being prepared, willingly yielded up
their lives to death. After whom at last followed Simeon, with two
other priests or ministers of his church, Abedecalaas and Ananias,
which also with him were partakers of the same martyrdom.

At the suffering of those above mentioned, it happened that Pusices,
one of the king's officers, and overseer of his artificers, was there
present, who seeing Ananias, being an aged old father, somewhat to
shake and tremble at the sight of them that suffered, O father, (said
he,) a little moment shut thine eyes, and be strong, and shortly thou
shalt see the sight of God. Upon these words thus spoken, Pusices
immediately was apprehended and brought unto the king, who there
confessing himself constantly to be a Christian, and for that he was
very bold and hardy before the king in the cause of Christ's faith,
was extremely and most cruelly handled in the execution of his
martyrdom. For in the upper part of his neck they made a hole to
thrust in their hand, and plucked out his tongue out of his mouth;
and so he was put to death. At the which time also the daughter of
Pusices, a godly virgin, by the malicious accusation of the wicked,
was apprehended and put to death.

The next year following, upon the same day, when the Christians did
celebrate the remembrance of the Lord's passion, which we call Good
Friday, before Easter, (as witnesseth the said Sozomenus,) Sapores
the king directed out a cruel and sharp edict throughout all his
land, condemning to death all them whosoever confessed themselves to
be Christians. By reason whereof an innumerable multitude of
Christians, through the wicked procuring of the malignant magicians,
suffered the same time by the sword, both in city and in town; some
being sought for, some offering themselves willingly, lest they
should seem by their silence to deny Christ. Thus all the Christians
that could be found without pity were slain, and divers also of the
king's own court and household. Amongst whom was also Azades, a
eunuch, one whom the king did entirely love and favour; which Azades,
after that the king understood to be put to death, being greatly
moved with the sorrow thereof, commanded after that no Christians to
be slain but them only which were the doctors and teachers of
Christian religion.

In the same time it happened that the queen fell into a certain
disease; upon the occasion whereof the cruel Jews, with the wicked
magicians, falsely and maliciously accused Trabula, the sister of
Simeon the martyr, a godly virgin, with another sister also of hers,
that they had wrought privy charms to hurt the queen, for the
revenging of the death of Simeon. This accusation being received and
believed, innocent Trabula, with the others, were condenmed, and with
a saw cut in sunder by the middle; whose quarters were then hanged
upon stakes, the queen going between them, thinking thereby to be
delivered of her sickness. This Trabula was a maid of a right comely
beauty, and very amiable, to whom one of the magicians cast great
love, much desiring and labouring by gifts and rewards sent into the
prison to win her to his pleasure, promising that if she would apply
to his request, she should be delivered and set at liberty. But she
utterly refusing to consent unto him, or rather rebuking him for his
incontinent attempt, did choose rather to die, than to betray either
the religion of her mind, or the virginity of her body.

Now forsomuch as the king had commanded that no Christians should be
put to death, but only such as were the teachers and leaders of the
flock, the magicians and arch-magicians left no diligence untried to
set forward the matter. Whereby great affliction and persecution was
among the bishops and teachers of the church, which in all places
went to slaughter, especially in the country of Diobenor; for that
part of Persia above all other was most Christian. Where Acepsimas
the bishop, with a great number of his flock and clergy, were
apprehended and taken; upon the apprehension of whom the magicians,
to satisfy the king's commandment, dismissed all the rest, only
depriving them of their living and goods. Only Acepsimas, the bishop,
they retained, with whom one Jacobus, a minister or priest of the
church, was also joined; not of any compulsion, but only as himself
so desired and obtained of those magicians that he might follow him,
and be coupled in the same bonds, to serve the aged bishop, and to
relieve (so much as he might) his calamities, and heal his wounds.
For he had been sore scourged before of the magicians, after they had
apprehended him, and brought him to worship the sun; which thing,
because he would not do, they cast him into prison again, where this
Jacobus was waiting upon him. At the same time likewise Athalas, a
priest or minister, also Azadanes and Abdiesus, deacons, were
imprisoned and miserably scourged for the testimony of the Lord
Jesus. After this the archimagus, espying his time, complaineth unto
the king of them, having authority and commission given him (unless
they would worship the sun) to punish them as he pleased. This
commandment received of the king the master magus doth declare to
them in prison. But they answered again plainly, that they would
never be either betrayers of Christ, or worshippers of the sun;
whereupon without mercy they were put to bitter torments; where
Acepsimas, strongly persisting in the confession of Christ, endured
to death. The other being no less rent and wounded with scourges, yet
continued marvellously alive; and because they would in no case turn
from their constant sentence, were turned again into prison. Of whom
Athalas, in the time of his whipping, was so drawn and racked with
pulling, that both his arms, being loosed out of the joints, hanged
down from his body; which he so carried about, without use of any
hand to feed himself but as he was fed of others.

Miserable, and almost innumerable, were the slaughters under the
reign of this Sapores, of bishops, ministers, deacons, religious men,
holy virgins, and other ecclesiastical persons, such as did then
cleave to the doctrine of Christ, and suffered for the same. The
names of the bishops, besides the other multitude taken in the
persecution, are recited in this order following: Barbasimes, Faulus,
Gaddiabes, Sabinus, Mareas, Mocius, Johannes, Hormisdas, Papas,
Jacobus, Romas, Maares, Agas, Bochres, Abdas, Abiesus, Joannes,
Abramius, Agdelas, Sabores, Isaac, Dausas; Bicor also, with Maureanda
his fellow bishop, and the rest of his churches under him, to the
number of two hundred and fifty persons, which were the same time
apprehended of the Persians, &c. Briefly, to comprehend the whole
multitude of them that suffered in that persecution, the manner of
their apprehension, the cruelness of their torments, how and where
they suffered, and in what places, it is not possible for any history
to discharge. Neither are the Persians themselves (as Sozomenus
recordeth) able to recite them. In sum, the multitude and number of
them whom they are able to recite by name cometh to the sum of
sixteen thousand men and women.

The rumour and noise of this so miserable affliction of the
Christians in the kingdom of Persia, coming to the ears of
Constantine the emperor, put him in great heaviness, studying and
revolving with himself how to help the matter, which indeed was very
hard for him to do. It so befell the same time that certain
ambassadors were then at Rome from Sapores king of Persia, to whom
Constantine did easily grant and consent, satisfying all their
requests and demands; thinking thereby to obtain the more friendship
at the king's hands, that at his request he would be good to the
Christians, to whom he writeth his epistle in their behalf, and
sendeth the same by his messengers, beginning thus:

The contents whereof briefly do tend to this effect. Declaring unto
him how he should stand much beholden to him, if, at his request, he
would show some quiet and rest to the Christians, in whose religion
there was nothing which he could justly blame. "Forsomuch as in their
sacrifices they use to kill nothing, nor to shed blood, but only to
offer up unbloody sacrifices, to make their prayers unto God, who
delighteth not in blood-shedding, but only in the soul that loveth
virtue, and followeth such doctrine and knowledge which is agreeing
unto true piety. And therefore such men as do lead him, and lean so
to believe and to worship God, are more to be commended. Moreover, he
assureth him to find God more merciful unto him, if he would embrace
the godly piety and truth of the Christians. And for example thereof
bringeth in the stories of Galienus and Valerianus, who, so long as
they were favourers of the Christians, did prosper and flourish. But
as soon as they moved any persecution against them, it happened to
them, as it did to all other emperors before them, that all went
backward with them; as especially might appear by Valerianus, who,
after he had raged so cruelly against the Christians, was eftsoons
overcome of the Persians, the revenging hand of God falling upon him,
where he led ever a miserable life in wretched captivity. Further
also, for the more evidence of the same, he inferreth the examples of
those emperors and tyrants in his time whom he vanquished and subdued
only by his faith in Christ, for the which faith God was his helper,
and gave him the victory in many battles, and triumph over great
tyrants; whereby he hath so enlarged the dominion of the Roman
monarchy, from the west ocean unto the uttermost parts well near of
all the east. To the doing and working whereof he neither called to
him the help of any charmer or divination of soothsayer, nor used the
killing of any sacrifice; but only the following of the cross, and
prayer made to Almighty God, without any other bloody sacrifice, was
the armour wherewith he overcame," &c. And in the end of the epistle
addeth these words: "What joy, (saith he,) what gladness would it be
to my heart, to hear the state also of the Persians to flourish, as I
wish it to do, by embracing this sort of men, the Christians I mean!
So that both you with them, and they with you, in long prosperity may
enjoy much felicity together, as your hearts would desire; and in so
doing no doubt ye shall. For so shall you have God, which is the
Author and Creator of all this universal world, to be merciful and
gracious to you. These men therefore I commend unto you upon your
kingly honour; and upon your clemency and piety, wherewith you are
endued, I commit them unto you, desiring you to embrace and receive
them according to your humanity and benignity, agreeing and
convenient to your estate; who, in so doing, shall now both procure
to yourself grace through your faith, and also shall declare to me a
great pleasure and benefit worthy of thanks."

This example wrote Constantine to king Sapores; such care had this
godly prince for them that believed in Christ, not only in his own
monarchy, but also in all places of the world: neither is it to be
doubted but this intercession of the emperor did something mitigate
the heat of the Persians' persecution, although thereof we read no
certain thing in our histories.

Of other troubles and persecutions we read, which happened afterward
in the said country of Persia, under Isdigerdes the king; but these
followed long after, about the time of the emperor Theodosius. At
which time suffered Andas, their bishop, and Hormisda, a great
nobleman's son, and of great reputation among the Persians; whom when
the king understood to be a Christian, and to deny to turn from his
religion, condemned him to keep his elephants naked. In process of
time, the king looking out, and seeing him all swarthy and tanned in
the sun, commanded him to have a shirt put on, and to be brought
before him; whom then the king asked if he would deny Christ.
Hormisda, hearing this, tore off his shirt from his body, and cast it
from him, saying, If ye think that I will deny my faith to Christ for
a shirt, have here your gift again, &c. And so was upon that expelled
the country.

Another there was that same time, named Suenes, which had under him a
hundred servants. The king taking displeasure with him for that he
would not alter from his religion and godly truth, asked who was the
worst of all his servants, and him the king made ruler of all the
rest, and coupling him with his master's wife, brought also Suenes
under his subjection, thinking thereby to subdue also the faith of
Suenes; but it was builded upon a sure foundation.

Of Benjamin the deacon thus writeth the said Theodoret in his first
book: that after two years of his imprisonment, at the request of the
Roman legate, he was delivered; who afterward, contrary to the king's
commandment, preached and taught the gospel of Christ, and was most
miserably excruciated, having twenty sharp pricks of reeds thrust
under his nails; but when he did laugh at that, he had a sharp reed
thrust into another part with horrible pain. After that a certain
long stalk, ragged and thorny, being thrust into his body by the
nether part, was forced into him; with the horribleness of the pain
whereof the valiant and invincible soldier of the Lord gave over his
life. And thus much concerning the martyrs and persecutions among the
Persians, although these persecutions belong not to this time, which
came (as it is said) long after the days of Constantine, about the
year of our Lord four hundred and twenty-five.



15. PERSECUTION UNDER JULIAN THE APOSTATE

Likewise under Julian, the wicked apostate, certain there were which
constantly suffered martyrdom by the heathen idolaters: as Emilianus,
who was burned in Thracia, and Domitius, which was slain in his cave.
Theodorus also, for singing of a psalm at the removing of the body of
Babilas, (whereof mention is made before,) being apprehended, was so
examined with exquisite torments, and so cruelly excruciate from
morning almost to noon, that hardly he escaped with life; who, being
asked afterward of his friends how he could abide so sharp torments,
said that at the first beginning he felt some pain, but afterward
there stood by him a young man, who, as he was sweating, wiped away
his sweat, and refreshed him with cold water ofttimes; wherewith he
was so delighted, that when he was let down from the engine, it
grieved him more than before.

Artemius also, the captain of the Egyptian sol diers, the same time
lost his head for his religion indeed; although other causes were
pretended against him.

Add unto these moreover Eusebius and Nestabus, two brethren, with
Nestor also, who for their Christianity were dragged through the
streets and murdered of the idolatrous people of Gaza.

But especially the cruelty of the Arethusians, a people of Syria,
exceeded against the Christian virgins, whom they set out naked
before the multitude to be scorned; after that, being shaven, they
covered them with swill and draft, wont to be given to their hogs,
and so caused their bowels and flesh to be devoured of the hungry
swine. This rage and fury of the wicked Arethusians Sozomenus
supposeth to come of this, because that Constantine before had broken
them from their country manner of setting forth and exposing their
virgins filthily to whomso ever lusted, and destroyed the temple of
Venus in Heliopolis, restraining the people there from their
filthiness and vile whoredom.

Of the lamentable story, or rather tragedy, of Marcus Arethusius,
their bishop, thus writeth the said Sozomenus, and also Theodoretus
in his third book, in these words as follow.

This tragedy (saith he) of Marcus Arethusius doth require the
eloquence and worthiness of Eschilus and Sophocles, which may, as the
matter deserveth, set forth and beautify his great afflictions, This
man, at the commandment of Constantine, pulled down a certain temple
dedicated to idols, and instead thereof built up a church, where the
Christians might congregate. The Arethusians, remembering the little
good will that Julianus bare unto him, accused him as a traitor and 
enemy to him. At the first, according as the Scripture teacheth, he
prepared himself to fly; but when he perceived that there were
certain of his kinsmen or friends apprehended in his stead, returning
again of his own accord, he offered himself to those that thirsted
for his blood. Whom when they had gotten, as men neither pitying his
old age and worn years, nor abashed at his virtuous conversation,
being a man so adorned both with doctrine and manners, first stripped
him naked, and pitifully beat him; then, within a while after, they
cast him into a foul filthy sink; and from thence being brought, they
caused boys to thrust him in with sharpened sticks to provoke his
pain the more. Lastly, they put him in a basket; and being anointed
with honey and broth, they hung him abroad in the heat of the sun, as
meat for wasps and flies to feed upon. And all this extremity they
showed unto him, for that they would enforce him to do one of these
things; that is, either to build up again the temple which he had
destroyed, or else to give so much money as should pay for the
building of the same: but even as he purposed with himself to suffer
and abide their grievous torments, so refused he to do that they
demanded of him. At length they, taking him to be but a poor man, and
not able to pay such a sum of money, promised to forgive him the one
half, so that he would be contented to pay the other half. But he,
hanging in the basket, wounded pitifully with the sharpened sticks of
boys and children, and all to be bitten with wasps and flies, did not
only conceal his pain and grief, but also derided those wicked ones,
and called them base, low, and terrene people, and he himself to be
exalted and set on high. At length, they demanding of him but a small
sum of money, he answered thus; It is as great wickedness to confer
one halfpenny in case of impiety, as if a man should bestow the
whole. Thus they, being not able to prevail against him, let him
down, and leaving him, went their way, so that every man might learn
at his mouth the example of true piety and faithfulness.

Although the tradition of these aforesaid stories
and persecutions of Persia above premised do stray somewhat out of
the order and course of time and place, as which came neither in the
time of Constantine, nor be pertinent to the monarchy of Rome; yet
because in this present history we are in hand with the holy martyrs
and saints of Christ, forsomuch as these also gave such a faithful
testimony of the Lord Jesus with their blood, I thought therefore not
to pass them over without some testirnony in this our catalogue of
holy martyrs. And here an end of these persecutions of the primitive
church.



16. CONSTANTINE THE GREAT

It may peradventure be marvelled of some, reading the history of
these so terrible persecutions above specified, why God the Almighty,
Director of all things, would suffer his own people and faithful
servants, believing in his own and only begotten Son Jesus, so
cruelly to be handled, so wrongfully to be vexed, so extremely to be
tormented and put to death, and that the space of so many years
together, as in these foresaid persecutions may appear. To the which
admiration I have nothing to answer, but to say with the words of
Hierom, We ought not to be moved with this iniquity of things, to see
the wicked to prevail against the body; forsomuch as in the beginning
of the world we see Abel the just to be killed of wicked Cain, and
afterward Jacob being thrust out, Esau to reign in his father's
house: in like case the Egyptians with brick and tile afflicted the
sons of Israel; yea, and the Lord himself, was he not crucified of
the Jews, Barabbas the thief being let go? Time would not suffice me
to recite and reckon up how the godly in this world go to wreck, the
wicked flourishing and prevailing. Briefly, howsoever the cause
hereof proceedeth, whether for our sins here in this life, or how
else soever; yet this is to us, and may be to all men, a sufficient
stay, that we are sure these afflictions and persecutions of God's
people in this world not to come by any chance or blind fortune, but
by the provident appointment and forewarning of God. For so in the
old law, by the affliction of the children of Israel, he hath
prefigured these persecutions of his Christians. So by the words of
Christ's own mouth in the gospel he did forewarn his church of these
troubles to come. Again, neither did he suffer these so great
afflictions to fall upon his servants before that he had premonished
them suffi ciently by special revelation in the Apocalypse of John
his servant; in the which Apocalypse he declared unto his church
before, not only what troubles were coming at hand towards them,
where and by whom they should come, but also in plain number, if the
words of the prophecy be well understood, assigneth the true time,
how long the said persecutions should continue, and when they should
cease.

Thus having at large discoursed these horrible persecutions past, and
heavy afflictions of Christian martyrs; now, by the grace of God,
coming out of this Red Sea of bloody persecution, leaving Pharaoh and
his host behind, let us sing gloriously to the worthy name of our
God, who, through the blood of the Lamb, after long and tedious
afflictions, at length hath visited his people with comfort, hath
tied up Satan short, hath sent his meek Moses, (gentle Constantine I
mean,) by whom it hath so pleased the Lord to work deliverance to his
captive people, to set his servants at liberty, to turn their
mourning into joy, to magnify the church of his Son, to destroy the
idols of all the world, to grant life and liberty (and would God also
not so much riches) unto them which before were the abjects of all
the world; and all by the means of godly Constantine, the meek and
most Christian emperor, of whose divine victories against so many
tyrants and emperors, persecutors of Christ's people, and, lastly,
against Licinius, in the year of our Lord three hundred twenty and
four, of whose other noble acts and prowesses, of whose blessed
virtues and his happy birth and progeny, part we have comprehended
before, part now remaineth (Christ willing) to be declared.

This Constantine was the son of Constantius the emperor, a good and
virtuous child of a good and virtuous father, born in Britain, (as
saith Eutro pius,) whose mother was named Helena, daughter indeed of
King Coilus; although Ambrosius, in his funeral oration of the death
of Theodosius, saith she was an inn-holder's daughter. He was a most
bountiful and gracious prince, having a desire to nourish learning
and good arts, and did oftentimes use to read, write, and study
himself. He had marvellous good success and prosperous achieving of
all things he took in hand, which then was (and truly) supposed to
proceed of this, for that he was so great a favourer of the Christian
faith; which faith, when he had once embraced, he did ever after most
devoutly and religiously reverence, and commanded by especial
commission and proclamation, that every man should profess the same
religion throughout all the Roman monarchy. The worshipping of idols,
(whereunto he was addict by the allurement of Fausta his wife,
insomuch that he did sacrifice to them,) after the discomfiture of
Maxentius in battle, he utterly abjured; but his baptism he deferred
even unto his old age, because he had determined a journey into
Persia, and thought in Jordan to have been baptized.

As touching his natural disposition and wit, he
was very eloquent, a good philosopher, and in disputation sharp
andingenious. He was accustomed to say, That an emperor ought to
refuse no labour for the utility of the commonwealth; yea, and to
adventure the mangling of his body for the remedy thereof; but if
otherwise it may be holpen, to cherish the same. This do Aurelius,
Victor, Pomponius Letus, and Ignatius write of him. And Ælius
Lampridius saith, writing upon the life of Heliogabalus, that
Constantine was wont to say, that an empire was given by the
determinate purpose of God, that he to whom it was given should so
employ his diligence, as he might be thought worthy of the same at
the hands of the Giver; which same saying also Augustine noteth in
his third book against Cresconius.

He first entered into the empire by the mercifulness of God, minding,
after long waves of doleful persecution, to restore unto his church
peace and tranquillity, in the year of our Lord three hundred and
eleven, as Eusebius accounteth in his chronicle. His reign continued,
as Eutropius affirmeth, thirty years, Letus saith thirty and two
years, lacking two months. Great peace and tranquillity enjoyed the
church under the reign of this good emperor, which took great pain
and travail for the preservation thereof. First, yea, and that before
he had subdued Licinius, he set forth many edicts for the restitution
of the goods of the church, for the revoking of the Christians out of
exile, for taking away the dissension of the doctors out of the
church, for the setting of them free from public charges, and such
like, even as the copy of his constitutions hereunder declareth,
which Eusebius in his tenth book and fifth chapter repeateth in this
wise.

"Victor Constantinus Maximus Augustus, to our loving subjects
inhabiting throughout the east parts, sendeth greeting. The thing
itself, which in the sure and most firm law of nature is contained,
doth give unto all men (even as God hath ordained the same)
sufficient perceivance and understanding, both of such things as man
ought to foresee, as also what things presently he ought to meditate.
Neither is there any thing therein to be doubted of such as have
their minds directed to the scope or mark of perfect understanding;
so that the perfect comprehending of sound reason, and the
perceivance there of, be compared with the knowledge of God, being
the true and perfect virtue. Wherefore let no wise man be troubled,
although he sees divers men of divers dispositions; for wisdom, which
springeth of virtue, cannot abide or acquaint herself with fond
idiots, unless that (on the other side) the malice of perverse
filthiness prolong her days, and cause the same idiocy to survive.
Wherefore assuredly the crown and price of virtue lieth open unto all
men, and the most mighty God ordereth the judgment of the same. I
undoubtedly (as manifestly as possible is) will endeavour myself to
testify and confess unto you all the hope which is in me. I think
verily that the emperors which before this time have lately been,
even for their tyranny had the empire taken from them; and my father,
only exercising and using all meekness and lenity in his affairs,
calling upon God the Father with great devotion and humility, hath
been exalted to the same; and all the rest, as men wanting their
wits, and in comparison as savage beasts, rather did give themselves
to like cruelty, than to any lenity and gentleness towards their
subjects: which tyranny, every one for his time being muzzled,
utterly subverted the true and infallible doctrine; and so great
malice was there kindled in their breasts, that when all things were
in peaceable tranquillity, they made and raised most cruel and bloody
intestine or civil wars. It is credibly informed us, that in those
days Apollo gave answers, but not by any man's month, but out of a
certain cave and dark place, (saying,) that he was much disquieted by
those that were the just men and livers upon the earth, so that he
could or would not for them declare the truth of such things as
others demanded. And hereby it came to pass that such false
divinations were given from the golden tables in Apollo's temple. And
this thing did his prophetical priest complain of, when he took up
again the hair of his head, that other had contemptuously cast down;
and said, that the neglecting of his divination was the cause of so
many evils amongst men. But let us see what was the end hereof. We
now boldly, and without all fear, invocate and worship the omnipotent
God. When I was a child, I heard that he which then was chief emperor
of Rome, unhappy, yea, most unhappy man, being seduced and brought
into error by his soldiers, curiously inquired who were those just
men upon the earth that Apollo meant. And one of his priests, which
was near about him, made answer that they were the Christians. This
answer unto him, being as delectable as honey unto the mouth, drew
the sword (given unto him to be a re venger of evil-doers and
malefactors) against the professors of the irreprehensible sanctimony
and religion; and straightway he gave forth a commission, (to bloody
homicides, as I may well call them,) and gave commandment to all the
judges that they should endeavour themselves, with all the cunning
they had, to the devising of more grievous and sharper punishments
against the poor Christians. Then, then I say, a man might have seen
how greatly the honest professors of that religion were molested with
cruelty, and daily suffered no small injuries and contumelies, and
that also they suffered and sustained the same with such temperance,
as though they had had no injuries at all done unto them; which
temperance and patience of theirs was the cause why the furious
citizens were the more mad and raging against them. What fires, what
tortures, what kind of torments were there, but they, without respect
either of age or sex, were enforced to feel them?

Then did the earth, without doubt, herself bewail her children, and
the round world, which containeth all things, being sprinkled and
imbrued with their blood, made doleful lamentation for them, and the
day itself, provoked to mourn, was made amazed for them. But what is
this to purpose? Now the very barbarous nations rejoice for their
sakes which received and harboured them, when they were afraid and
fled from us, keeping them, as it were, in most loving and amiable
captivity; and they saved not only their lives, but also were a
defence for their religion. And now also the Roman nation remembereth
and hath before their eyes this blame and spot, which the Christians
that were of that time worthily gave unto them, when they by them
were banished (as unfit members of their commonwealth) amongst the
barbarous people. What needeth to make further rehearsal of the
mourning lamentation which the heathen people themselves throughout
the world made for the pitiful murder and slaughter of them? After
this it came to pass that they which were authors of all these
mischiefs died also, and were committed for their reward to the most
filthy and horrible dungeon of hell. They being so entangled with
intestine and civil wars, left alive neither name nor kinsman of
their own; which thing undoubtedly had not chanced unless the wicked
divinations of Apollo's oracles had deceived and bewitched them. To
thee therefore now I pray, o most mighty God, that thou wilt
vouchsafe to be merciful, and pardon all the east parts and in
habitants of the same, being oppressed with calamity; and that by me
thy servant thou wilt of thy goodness help and relieve the same. And
these things rashly crave I not at thy hands, O Lord, most mighty and
holiest God of all. For I being persuaded by the only oracles, have
both begun and also finished wholesome and profitable things; and
further, by the bearing and showing of thine ensign, have overcome a
mighty and strong host; and when any necessity of the commonwealth
(to my charge committed) requireth thereunto, (following those signs
and tokens of thy virtues,) I boldly go forth and fight against mine
enemies: and for this cause have I sacrificed my soul unto thee,
purified and cleansed both with thy love and fear. Yea, truly, thy
name do I sincerely love, and thy power do I reverence, which by many
tokens and wonders hast showed and confirmed thereby my belief and
faith. Therefore will I do my endeavour, and bend myself thereunto,
that I may re-edify thy most holy house, which those wicked and
ungodly emperors have with so great ruin laid waste; thy people do I
desire to bring and establish in firm peace and tranquillity, and
that for the public utility of all the inhabitants of the earth.
Those which yet err, and are out of the way, enjoy the benefit of
peace and quietness with and amongst the number of the faithful sort;
for I trust the restitution of the like society and participation may
be a means to bring them also that err into the perfect way of
verity. Let none therefore be grievous one unto another, but what
every man thinkest best, that let him do; for such as are wise ought
thoroughly to be persuaded that they only mean to live holily, and as
they should do, whom the Spirit of God moveth to take their delight
and recreation in reading his holy will; and if others wilfully will
go out of the way, cleaving to the synagogues of false doctrine, they
may at their own peril. As for us, we have the most worthy house or
congregation of God's verity, which he according to his own goodness
and nature hath given us. And this also we wish unto them, that with
like participation and common consent they may feel with us the same
delectation of mind. For this our religion is neither new, nor newly
invented, but it is as old as we believe the creation of the world to
be, and which God hath commanded to be celebrated with such worship
as both seemed and pleased him; but all living men are liars, and are
deceived with divers and sundry illusions, Thou, O God, for Christ
thy Son's sake, suffer not this wickedness again to root: thou hast
set up a clear burning light, that thereby as many as thou hast
chosen may come unto thee; these thy miracles approve the same. It is
thy power that keepeth us in innocency and fidelity. The sun and the
moon run their appointed course. Neither yet in ranging-wise wander
the stars to what place of the world they list themselves. The days,
years, months, and times keep their appointed turns. The earth
abideth firm and unmovable at thy word; and the wind at the time (by
thee directed) stormeth and bloweth. The streaming watery floods ebb
in time according as they flow. The raging sea abideth within her
bounded limits: and for that the ocean sea stretcheth out herself in
equal length and breadth with the whole earth, this must needs be
wrought with some marvellous workmanship of thine own hand. Which
thing, unless it were at thy will made and
disposed, without all doubt so great difference and partition between
would ere this time have brought utter ruin and destruction, both to
the life of man, and to all that belongeth to man beside. Which for
that they have such great and huge conflicts amongst themselves, as
also the invisible spirits have, we give thanks, O Lord most mighty,
God of all gods, that all mankind hath not been destroyed thereby.
Surely even as greatly as thy benignity and gentleness is manifested
by divers and sundry benefits bestowed upon us, so much also is the
same set forth and declared in the discipline of thy eternal word to
those that be heavenly wise, and apply themselves to the attainment
of sincere and true virtue. But if any such there be that little
regard or have but small respect unto the consideration thereof, let
them not blame or lay a fault in others that do the same; for that
physic whereby health is obtained is manifestly offered unto all men.
Now therefore let no man go about to subvert that which experience
itself doth show (of necessity) to be pure and good. Let us therefore
altogether use the participation of this benefit bestowed upon us,
that is to say, the benefit of peace and tranquillity, seting apart
all controversy. And let no man hurt or be prejudicial to his fellow
for that thing wherein he thinketh himself to have done well. If by
that which any man knoweth and hath experience of he thinketh he may
profit his neighbour, let him do the same; if not, let him give over
and remit it till another time: for there is a great diversity
betwixt the willing and voluntary embracing of religion, and that
when a man is thereunto enforced and coacted. Of these things have I
made a more large discourse than indeed the scope of mediocrity
requireth; especially because I would not have my faith (touching the
verity) to be hid; for that I hear there be some which complain that
the old accustomed haunting of their temples, and that the power of
such darkness is cut off and taken away. Which thing surely I would
take in better part, were it not that the violent rebellion of
flagitious error were so fixed in many men's hearts, whereby they
thirst after the utter subversion of the commonwealth and empire."

Such was the goodness of this emperor Constantine, or rather such was
the providence of Almighty God toward his church in stirring him up,
that all his care and study of mind was set upon nothing else but
only how to benefit and enlarge the commodities of the same. Neither
was it to him enough to deliver the church and people of God from
outward vexation of foreign tyrants and persecutors. No less
beneficial was his godly care also in quieting the inward dissensions
and disturbance within the church, among the Christian bishops
themselves; according as we read of Moses, the deliverer of the
Israelites, in agreeing the brethren together when he saw them at
variance, Exod. ii. No less also did his vigilant study extend in
erecting, restoring, and enriching the churches of God in all cities,
and in providing for the ministers of the same. And therefore,
writing to Anilinus his chief captain, declareth his will and mind to
him in letters concerning the goods which did appertain to the
churches of the Christians, that he should procure vigilantly for the
same, that all such goods, houses, and gardens, belonging before to
the right of churches, should again be restored in all speedy wise,
and that he therein might be certified with speed, &c.

Moreover, he, writing to the said Anilinus in another letter,
signifieth unto him in this effect: that forsomuch as the contempt of
God's reverend religion is and hath been ever the greatest decay to
the name and people of Rome, as contrarily the maintaining and
reverencing the same hath ever brought prosperity to all
commonwealths; therefore he in consideration thereof hath taken that
order, and giveth to him in charge, that through that province where
he hath to do, which was in Africa, where Cecilianus was bishop, he
should there see and provide that all such ministers and clerks,
whose vocation was to serve in the church, should be freed and
exempted from all public duties and burdens, whereby they being so
privileged, and all impediments removed which should hinder their di
vine ministration, thereby the common utility of the people might the
better flourish, &c.

Furthermore, the said Constantine in another letter, writing to
Miltiades, bishop of Rome, and to Marcus, declareth in his letters to
them how Cecilianus, bishop of Carthage, hath been accused unto him
by divers of his colleagues and fellow bishops. Wherefore his will
is, that the said Cecilianus, with ten bishops his accusers, with ten 
other his defendants, should repair up to him at Rome; where, in the
present assistance of the foresaid Miltiades, Rheticus, Maternus,
Marinus, and of other their fellow colleagues, the cause of
Cecilianus might be heard and rightly examined, so that all schism
and division might be cut off from among them, where in the fervent
desire of Constantine to peace and unity may well appear.

Upon the like cause and argument also he writeth to Chrestus, bishop
of Syracusa; being so desirous to nourish peace and concord in the
church, that he offereth to him, with his under ministers and three
servants, his free carriage to come up to him unto the council of
other bishops, for the agreeing of certain matters belonging to the
church.

He writeth also another letter to the forenamed Cecifianus, bishop of
Carthage.

To the provinces likewise of Palestina and those parts about he
directeth his edict in the behalf of the Christians, for the
releasing of such as were in captivity, and for the restoring again
of them which had sustained any loss in the former persecution
before, and for the refreshing of such as heretofore had been
oppressed with any ignominy or molestation for their confession sake;
declaring in the said edict how that this whole body, life, and soul,
and whatsoever is in him, he oweth to God and to the service of him,
&c.

Moreover, another letter he writeth to Eusebius, for the edifying of
new Christian churches, and restoring of them which had been wasted 
before by foreign enemies. And after he had collected the synod of
Nice for the study of peace and unity of the church, he writeth upon
the same to Alexander and Arius. In which his letters he most
lamentably uttered the great grief of his heart, to see and hear of
their contention and division, whereby the peace and common harmony
of the church was broken, the synod provoked and resisted, the holy
people of the Lord divided into parts and tumults, contrary to the
office of good and circumspect men, whose duty were rather to nourish
concord and to seek tranquillity. And though in some small points and
light trifles they did disagree from others; yet the example of
philosophers might teach them, who, although in some parts of a
sentence or piece of a question some might dissent from others, yet
in the unity of their profession they did all join as fellows
together. In like case were it their duty in such fruitless questions
(or rather pieces of questions) to keep them in the conceptions of
their minds in silence unto themselves, and not to bring them forth
into public synods, to break therefore from the communion of the
reverend council; declaring, moreover, in the said epistle, the first
origin and occasion of this their contentious dissension to rise upon
vain and trifling terms, vile causes, and light questions, and pieces
rather of questions; about such matters as neither are to be moved,
nor to be answered unto being moved; more curious to be searched, and
perilous to be expressed, than necessary to be inquired. Wherefore,
by all manner of means, he doth labour them, doth entreat them, and
persuade them, not only with reasons, but also with tears and sighing
sobs, that they would restore peace again unto the church, and
quietness to the rest of his life, (which otherwise would not be
sweet unto him,) and they would return again to the communion of the
reverend councii; who, in so doing, should open his way and purposed
journey into the east parts, which otherwise, hearing of their
discord and dissension, wou]d be sorry to see with his eyes that
which grieveth him now to hear with his ears: with much more in the
same epistle contained, but this is the effect of the whole. Thus
much I thought summarily to comprehend, whereby the divine
disposition and singular gentle nature of this meek and religious
Constantine might more notoriously appear to all princes, for them to
learn by his example what zeal and care they ought to bear toward the
church of Christ, and how gently to govern, and how to be beneficial
to the same.

Many other edicts and epistles, written to other places and parties,
be expressed at large in the second book of Eusebius, De Vita
Constantini, wherein the zealous care and princely beneficence of
this noble emperor toward the church of Christ may appear; whereof in
a brief recapitulation such specialties we have collected as here
followeth

First, he commanded all them to be set free whosoever, for the
confession of Christ, had been condemned to banishment, or to the
mines of metal, or to any public or private labour to them inflicted.
Such as were put to any infamy or shame among the multitude, he
willed them to be discharged from all such blemish of ignominy.
Soldiers, which before were deprived either of their place, or put
out of their wages, were put to their liberty, either to serve again
in their place, or quietly to live at home. Whatsoever honour, place,
or dignity had been taken away from any man should be restored to
them again. The goods and possessions of them that had suffered death
for Christ, howsoever they were alienated, should return to their
heirs or next of kin, or, for lack of them, should be given to the
church. He commanded, moreover, that only Christians should bear
office; the other he charged and restrained, that neither they should
sacrifice, nor exercise any more divinations and ceremonies of the
Gentiles, nor set up any images, nor keep any feasts of the heathen
idolaters. He corrected, moreover, and abolished all such unlawful
manners and dishonest usages in the cities as might be hurtful any
ways to the church; as the custom that the Egyptians had in the
flowing of Nilus, at what time the people used to run together like
brute beasts, both men and women, and with all kind of filthiness and
sodomitery to pollute their cities in celebrating the increase of
that river. This abomination Constantine extinguished, causing that
wicked order called Androgyne to be killed; by reason whereof the
river afterward (through the benefit of God) yielded more increase in
his flowing, to the greater fertility of the ground, than it did
before.

Among the Romans was an old law, that such as were barren, having no
fruit of children, should be amerced of half their goods. Also, that
such as being above the years of twenty and five unmarried, should
not be numbered in the same privileges with them that were married,
neither should be heirs to them, to whom, notwithstanding, they were
next in kin. These laws, because they seemed unreasonable, (to punish
the defect of nature or gift of virginity by man's law,) he abrogated
and took away. Another order was among the Romans, that they which
made their wills, being sick, had certain prescribed and conceived
words appointed to them to use, which, unless they followed, their
wills stood in no effect. This law also Constantine repealed,
permitting to every man in making his testament to use what words or
what witnesses he would. Likewise, among the Romans, he restrained
and took away the cruel and bloody spectacles and sights, where men
were wont with swords one to kill another. Of the barbarous and
filthy fashion of the Arethusians in Phœnicia I have mentioned
before, where they used to expose and set forth their virgins to open
fornication before they should be married; which custom also
Constantine removed away. Where no churches were, there he commanded
new to be made; where any were decayed, he commanded them to be
repaired; where any were too little, he caused them to be enlarged,
giving to the same great gifts and revenues, not only of such
tributes and taxes coming to him from certain sundry cities, which he
transferred unto the churches, but also out of his own treasures.
When any bishops required any council to be had, he satisfied their
petitions; and what in their councils and synods they established,
being godly and honest, he was ready to confirm the same.

The armour of his soldiers which were newly come from the Gentiles he
garnished with the arms of the cross, whereby they might learn the
sooner to forget their old superstitious idolatry. Moreover, like a
worthy emperor, he prescribed a certain form of prayer, instead of a
catechism, for every man to have, and to learn how to pray and to
invocate God. The which form of prayer is recited in the fourth book
of Eusebius.

"We acknowledge thee only to be our God, we confess thee to be our
King, we invocate and call upon thee, our only helper; by thee we
obtain our victories, by thee we vanquish and subdue our enemies, to
thee we attribute whatsoever present commodities we enjoy, and by
thee we hope for good things to come: unto thee we direct all our
suits and petitions, most humbly beseeching thee to conserve
Constantine our emperor and his noble children in long life to
continue, and to give them victory over all their enemies, through
Christ our Lord. Amen."

In his own palace he set up a house peculiar for prayer and doctrine,
using also to pray and sing with his people. Also in his wars he went
not without his tabernacle appointed for the same. The Sunday he
commanded to be kept holy of all men, and free from all judiciary
causes, from markets, marts, fairs, and all other manual labours,
only husbandry excepted; especially charging that no images or
monuments of idolatry should be set up.

Men of the clergy and of the ministry in all places he endued with
special privileges and immunities; so that if any were brought before
the civil magistrate, and listed to appeal to the sentence of his
bishop, it should be lawful for him so to do, and that the sentence
of the bishop should stand in as great force as if the magistrate or
the emperor himself had pronounced it.

But here is to be observed and noted, by the way, that the clerks and
ministers, then newly creeping out of persecution, were in those days
neither in number so great, nor in order of life of the like
disposition to these in our days now living.

No less care and provision the said Constantine also had for the
maintenance of schools pertaining to the church, and to the
nourishing of good arts and liberal sciences, especially of divinity;
not only with stipends and subsidies furnishing them, but also with
large privileges and exemptions defending the same, as by the words
of his own law is to be seen and read as followeth: "Physicians,
grammarians, and other professors of liberal arts, and doctors of the
law, with their wives and children, and all other their possessions
which they have in cities, we command to be freed from all civil
charges and functions, neither to receive foreign strangers in
provinces, nor to be burdened with any public administration, nor to
be cited up to civil judgment, nor to be drawn out or oppressed with
any injury. And if any man shall vex them, he shall incur such
punishment as the judge at his discretion shall award him. Their
stipends moreover and salaries we command truly to be paid them,
whereby they may more freely instruct others in arts and sciences,"
&c.

Over and besides this, so far did his godly zeal and princely care
and provision extend to the church of Christ, that he commanded and
provided books and volumes of the Scripture diligently and plainly to
be written and copied out, to remain in public churches to the use of
posterity. Whereupon, writing to Eusebius, bishop of Nicomedia, in a
special letter, he willeth him with all diligence to procure fifty
volumes of parchment well bound and compacted, wherein he should
cause to be written out of the Scripture, in a fair legible hand,
such things as he thought necessary and profitable for the
instruction of the church, and alloweth him for that business two
public ministers: he also writeth concerning the same to the general
of his army, to support and further him with such necessaries as
thereunto should appertain, &c.

In viewing, perusing, and writing this story, and in considering the
Christian zeal of this emperor, I wish that either this our printing
and plenty of books had been in his days, or that this so heroical
heart toward Christian religion, as was in this so excellent monarch,
might something appear in inferior princes reigning in these our
printing days, &c.

The liberal hand of this emperor, born to do all men good, was no
less also open and ready toward the needy poverty of such which
either by loss of parents or other occasions were not able to help
themselves; to whom he commanded and provided due supplies both of
corn and raiment to be ministered out if his own coffers, to the
necessary relief of the poor men, women, children, orphans, and
widows.

Finally, among all the other monuments of his singular clemency and
munificence, this is not to be pretermitted; that through all the
empire of Rome, and provinces belonging to the same, not only he
diminished such taxes, revenues, and impost as publicly were coming
to him, but also clearly remitted and released to the contributors
the fourth part of the same.

This present place would require something to be said of the donation
of Constantine, whereupon, as upon their chiefest anchor-hold, the
bishops of Rome do ground their supreme dominion and right over all
the political government of the west parts, and the spiritual
government of all the other seas and parts of the world. Which
donation to be falsely feigned and forged, and not to proceed from
Constantine, many arguments might here be inferred, if leisure from
other matters would suffer me.

For that no ancient history, nor yet doctor, maketh any mention
thereof.

Nauclerus reporteth it to be affirmed in the history of Isidorus. But
in the old copies of Isidorus no such thing is to be found.

Gratianus, the compiler of the decrees, reciteth that decree, not
upon any ancient authority, but only under the title of Palea.

Gelasius is said to give some testimony thereof, in Dist. 15. Sancta
Romana. But that clause of the said distinction touching that matter
in the old ancient books is not extant.

Otho Phrysingensis, who was about the time of Gratian, after he hath
declared the opinion of the favourers of the papacy, affirming this
donation to be given of Constantine to Silvester the pope, induceth
consequently the opinion of them that favour the empire, affirming
the contrary.

How doth this agree, that Constantine did yield up to Silvester all
the political dominion over the west, whenas the said Constantine at
his death, dividing the empire to his three sons, gave the west part
of the empire to one, the east part to the second, the middle part to
the third?

How is it like that Theodosius after them, being a just and a
religious prince, would or could have occupied the city of Rome, if
it had not been his right, but had belonged to the pope, and so did
many other emperors after him?

The phrase of this decree, being conferred with the phrase and style
of Constantine in his other edicts and letters above specified, doth
nothing agree.

Seeing the papists themselves confess that the decree of this
donation was written in Greek, how agreeth that with truth, whenas
both it was written, not to the Grecians, but to the Romans, and also
Constantine himself, for lack of the Greek tongue, was fain to use
the Latin tongue in the Council of Nice?

The contents of this donation (whosoever was the forger thereof) doth
bewray itself: for if it be true which there is confessed, that he
was baptized at Rome of Silvester, and the fourth day after his bap
tism this patrimony was given, (which was before his battle against
Maximinus or Licinius, in the year of our Lord three hundred and
seventeen, as Nicephorus recordeth,) how then accordeth this with
that which followeth in the donation, for him to have jurisdiction
given over the other four principal sees of Antioch, Alexandria,
Constantinople, and Jerusalem? whenas the city of Constantinople was
not yet begun before the death of Maximinus or Licinius, and was not
finished before the eight and twentieth year of the reign of
Constantine, in the year of our Lord three hundred thirty and nine;
or if it be true as Hierom counteth, it was finished the three and
twentieth year of his reign, which was the year of our Lord three
hundred thirty and four, long after this donation by their own
account.

Furthermore, where in the said constitution it is said that
Constantine was baptized at Rome of Silvester, and thereby was purged
of leprosy, the fable thereof agreeth not with the truth of history,
for so much as Eusebius, Hieronymus, Socrates, Theodorus, Sozomenus,
do all together consent that he was baptized not at Rome, but at
Nicomedia; and that moreover, as by their testimony doth appear, not
of Silvester, but of Eusebius, bishop of Nicomedia; not before his
battle against Maximinus or Licinius, but in the thirty-first year of
his reign, a little before his death.

Again, whereas Constantine in this donation appointed him to have the
principality over the other four patriarchal sees, that maketh
Constantine contrary to himself; who in the Council of Nice afterward
agreed with other bishops, that all the four patriarchal sees should
have equal jurisdiction, every one over his own territory and
precinct.

And thus hast thou (beloved reader) briefly collected the narration
of the noble acts and heavenly virtues of this most famous emperor
Constantine the Great; a singular spectacle for all Christian princes
to behold and imitate, and worthy of perpetual memory in all
congregations of Christian saints; whose fervent zeal and piety in
general to all congregations, and to all the servants of Christ, was
notable, but especially the affection and reverence of his heart
toward them was admirable, which had suffered any thing for the
confession of Christ in the persecutions before; them had he
principally in price and veneration, insomuch that he embraced and
kissed their wounds and stripes, and their eyes, being put out. And
if any such bishops or any other ministers brought to him any
complaints one against another,(as many times they did,) he would
take their bills of complaint and burn them before their faces; so
studious and zealous was his mind to have them agree, whose discord
was to him more grief than it was to themselves. All the virtuous
acts and memorable doings of this divine and renowned emperor to
comprehend or commit to history, it were the matter alone of a great
volume; wherefore, contented with these above premised, because
nothing of him can be said enough, I cease to discourse of him any
further.

And here an end of these lamentable and doleful persecutions of the
primitive church, during the space of three hundred years, from the
passion of our Saviour Christ, till the coming of this Constantine;
by whom, as by the elect instrument of God, it hath so pleased his
Almighty Majesty, by his determinate purpose, to give rest after long
trouble to his church, according to that St. Cyprian declareth before
to be revealed of God unto his church, that after darkness and stormy
tempest should come peaceable, calm, and stable quietness to his
church, meaning this time of Constantine now present. At which time
it so pleased the Almighty, that the murdering malice of Satan should
at length be restrained, and himself tied up, through his great mercy
in Christ, to whom therefore be thanks and praise now and for ever.
Amen.



THE SECOND BOOK
CONTAINING
THE NEXT THREE HUNDRED YEARS FOLLOWING
WITH SUCH THINGS SPECIALLY TOUCHED AS HAVE HAPPENED IN ENGLAND FROM
THE TIME OF KING LUCIUS TO GREGORIUS, AND SO AFTER TO THE TIME OF
KING EGBERT.
17. THE CHURCH IN BRITAIN BEFORE THE COMING OF THE SAXONS

By these persecutions hitherto in the book before precedent thou
mayst understand, (Christian reader,) how the fury of Satan and rage
of men have done what they could to extinguish the name and religion
of Christ; for what thing did lack that either death could do, or
torments could work, or the gates of hell could devise, all was to
the uttermost attempted. And yet all the fury and malice of Satan,
all the wisdom of the world and strength of men, doing, devising,
practising what they could, notwithstanding the religion of Christ
(as thou seest) hath had the upper hand; which thing I wish thee
greatly (gentle reader) wisely to note and diligently to ponder in
considering these former histories. And because thou canst not
consider them, nor profit by them, unless thou do first read and
peruse them; let me crave, therefore, this much at thine hands, to
turn and read over the said histories of those persecutions above
described, especially above all the other histories of this present
volume, for thine especial edification, which I trust thou shalt find
not unworthy the reading.

Now because the tying up of Satan giveth to the church some rest, and
to me some leisure to address myself to the handling of other
stories, I mind therefore (Christ willing) in this present book,
leaving awhile the tractation of these general affairs pertaining to
the universal church, to prosecute such domestical histories as more
nearly concern this our country of England and Scotland done here at
home, beginning first with King Lucius, with whom the faith first
began here in this realm, as the sentence of some writers doth hold.
And forsomuch as here may rise, yea, and doth rise, a great
controversy in these our popish days, concerning the first origin and
planting of the faith in this our realm, it shall not be greatly out
of our purpose somewhat to stay and say of this question; Whether the
church of England first received the faith from Rome or not? The
which although I grant so to be, yet, being so granted, it little
availeth the purpose of them which would so have it. For be it that
England first received the Christian faith and religion from Rome,
both in the time of Eleutherius their bishop, one hundred and eighty
years after Christ; and also in the time of Augustine, whom Gregory
sent hither six hundred years after Christ; yet their purpose
followeth not thereby, that we must therefore fetch our religion from
thence still, as from the chief well-head and fountain of all
godliness. And yet, as they are not able to prove the second, so
neither have I any cause to grant the first; that is, that our
Christian faith was first derived from Rome, which I may prove by six
or seven good conjectural reasons. Whereof the first I take of the
testimony of Gildas, our countryman, who in his history affirmeth
plainly, that Britain received the gospel in the time of Tiberius the
emperor, under whom Christ suffered. And saith, moreover, that Joseph
of Arimathea, after dispersion of the Jews, was sent of Philip the
apostle from France to Britain, about the year of our Lord 63, and
here remained in this land all his time; and so with his fellows laid
the first foundation of Christian faith among the British people,
whereupon other preachers and teachers coming afterward, confirmed
the same and increased it.

The second reason is out of Tertullian, who living near about, or
rather somewhat before, the time of this Eleutherius, in his book
Contra Judæos, manifestly importeth the same, where the said
Tertullian, testifying how the gospel was dispersed abroad by the
sound of the apostles; and there reckoning up the Medes, Persians,
Parthians, and dwellers in Mesopotamia, Jewry, Cappadocia, Pontus,
Asia, Phrygia, Egypt, Pamphulia, with many more, at length cometh to
the coast of the Moorians, and all the borders of Spain, with divers
nations of France; and there amongst all other reciteth also the
parts of Britain, which the Romans could never attain to, and
reporteth the same now to be subject to Christ: as also reckoneth up
the places of Sarmatia, of the Danes, the Germans, the Scythians,
with many other provinces and isles to him unknown; in all which
places (saith he) reigneth the name of Christ, which now beginneth to
be common. This hath Tertullian. Note here how, among other divers
believing nations, he mentioneth also the wildest places of Britain
to be of the same number; and these in his time were christened, who
was in the same Eleutherius's time, as is above said. Then was not
Pope Eleutherius the first which sent the Christian faith into this
realm, but the gospel was here received before hi time, either by
Joseph of Arimathea, as some chronicles record, or by some of the
apostles, or of their scholars, which had been here preaching Christ
before Eleutherius wrote to Lucius.

My third probation I deduct out of Origen, whose words be these,
Britanniam in Christianam consentire religionem. Whereby it appeareth
that the faith of Christ was scattered here in England before the
days of Eleutherius.

For my fourth probation I take the testimony of Beda, where he
affirmeth that in his time, and almost a thousand years after Christ,
here in Britain Easter was kept after the manner of the east church,
in the full of the moon, what day in the week soever it fell on, and
not on the Sunday, as we do now. Whereby it is to be collected that
the first preachers in this land have come out from the east part of
the world, where it was so used, rather than from Rome.

Fifthly, I may allege the words of Nicephorus, where he saith that
Simon Zelotes did spread the gospel of Christ to the west ocean, and
brought the same unto the isles of Britain.

Sixthly, may be here added also the words of Petrus Cluniacensis,
who, writing to Bernard, affirmeth that the Scots in his time did
celebrate their Easter, not after the Roman manner, but after the
Greeks, &c. And as the said Britons were not under the Roman order in
the time of this abbot of Cluniack, so neither were they nor would be
under the Roman legate in the time of Gregory, nor would admit any
primacy of the bishop of Rome to be above them.

For the seventh argument, moreover, I may make my probation by the
plain words of Eleutherius; by whose epistle, written to King Lucius,
we may understand that Lucius had received the faith of Christ in
this land before the king sent to Eleutherius for the Roman laws; for
so the express words of the letter do manifestly purport, as
hereafter followeth to he seen. By all which conjectures it may stand
probably to be thought, that the Britons were taught first by the
Grecians of the east church, rather than by the Romans.

Peradventure Eleutherius might help something, either to convert the
king, or else to increase the faith then newly sprung among the
people; but that he precisely was the first, that cannot be proved.
But grant he were, as indeed the most part of our English stories
confess, neither will I greatly stick with them therein; yet what
have they got thereby when they have cast all their gain? In few
words, to conclude this matter, if so be that the Christian faith and
religion was first derived from Rome to this our nation by
Eleutherius, then let them but grant to us the same faith and
religion which then was taught at Rome, and from thence derived
hither by the said Eleutherius, and we will desire no more; for then
neither was any universal pope above all churches and councils, which
came not in before Boniface's time, which was four hundred years
after; neither any name or use of the mass, the parts whereof how and
by whom they were compiled hereafter in this book following appeareth
to be seen. Neither any sacrifice propitiatory for the scouring of
purgatory was then offered upon hallowed altars, but only the
communion frequented at Christian tables, where oblations and gifts
were offered as well of the people as of the priests to God, because
they should appear neither empty nor unkind before the Lord, as we
may understand by the time of Cyprian. Neither was then any
transubstantiation heard of, which was not brought in before a
thousand years after. Neither were then any images of saints departed
set up in churches; yea, a great number of the saints worshipped in
this our time were not as yet born, nor the churches wherein they
were worshipped were yet set up, but came in long after, especially
in the time of Irenæus. Priests' marriage was then as lawful (and no
less received) as now; neither was it condemned before the days of
Hildebrand, almost a thousand years after that. Their service was
then in the vulgar tongue, as witnesseth Hierom; the sacrament
ministered in both kinds, as well to lay men as to priests, the
witness whereof is Cyprian. Yea, and temporal men which would not
then communicate at Easter, Whitsuntide, and Christmas,
were not then counted for Catholics, the pope's own distinction can
testify. In funerals, priests then flocked not together, selling
trentals and diriges for sweeping of purgatory; but only a funeral
concion was used, with psalms of praises and songs of their worthy
deeds, and alleluia sounding on high, which did shake the gilded
ceilings of the temple, as witnesseth Nazianzen, Ambrose, with
Hierom, &c.

In the supper of the Lord and at baptism no such ceremonies were used
as now of late have been intruded; insomuch that, as in this story is
showed hereafter, both Augustine and Paulinus baptized then in
rivers, not in hallowed fonts, as witnesseth Fabianus. The portues of
Sarum, of York, of Bangor, with matins and even-song of the day;
again, neither the orders and religions of monks and friars were yet
dreamed of, to the space almost of a thousand years after, &c. So
that, as I said, if the
papists would needs derive the faith and religion of this realm from
Rome, then let them set us and leave us there where they had us; that
is, let them suffer us to stand content with that faith and religion
which then was taught and brought from Rome by Eleutherius, (as now
we differ nothing from the same,) and we will desire no better. And
if they will not, then let the wise reader judge where the fault is,
in us or them, which neither themselves will persist in the antiquity
of the Romish religion, which they so much boast of, neither will
they permit us so to do.

And thus much by the way to satisfy the foresaid objection, whereby
we may have now a more ready passage into the order and course of the
history. Being therefore granted unto them which they so earnestly
stick upon, that the Christian faith and religion of this realm was
brought from Rome, first by Eleutherius, then afterward by Augustine:
thus write the chronicles of that matter.

Now, to proceed in order of the story, briefly to touch the state of
the foresaid land of Britain between the time of King Lucius and the
entering of the Saxons, who were the kings thereof, and in what order
they succeeded, or rather invaded, one after another, this catalogue
here under written will specify.
KINGS OF BRITAIN FROM THE TIME OF LUCIUS TILL THE COMING OF THE
SAXONS.

Lucius, a Briton.
	Severus, a Roman.
	Bassianus, a Roman by the father.
	Cerausius, a Briton.
	Alectus, a Roman.
	Asclepiodotus, a Briton.
	Coilus, a Briton.
	Constantius, a Roman.
	Constantinus, a Briton by the mother, named Helena, who being
the daughter of Coilus, and married to Constantius, father of
Constantinus, is said to make the walls first of London, also of
Colchester, much about the year of our Lord 305, and born in Britain.
	Octavius, a Gewissian.
	Maximianus, a Roman born, but his mother a Briton.
	Gratianus, a Roman.
	Constantius, a Briton by the mother.
	Constans, a Roman by the father.
	Vortigernus, a Gewissian or Briton.
	Vortimerus, a Briton.
	Vortigernus, again.

By this table may appear a lamentable face of a commonwealth so
miserably rent and divided into two sorts of people, differing not so
much in country as in religion: for when the Romans reigned, they
were governed by the infidels; when the Britons ruled, they were
governed by Christians. Thus what quietness was or could be in the
church in so unquiet and doubtful days may easily be considered.

Albeit notwithstanding all these foresaid heathen rulers of the
Romans which here governed, yet (God be praised) we read of no
persecution, during all these ten persecutions above mentioned, that
touched the Christian Britons, before the last persecution only of
Dioclesian and Maximianus Herculeus, which here then exercised much
cruelty. This persecution, as it was the last among the Roman
Christians, so it was the first of many and divers that followed
after in this church and realm of England; whereof we will hereafter
treat, (Christ willing,) as order of the matter shall leave us. In
the mean time, this rage of Dioclesian, as it was universally through
all the churches in the world fierce and vehement, so in this realm
of Britain also, it was so sore that, as all our English chronicles
do testify and record, all Christianity almost in the whole land was
destroyed, churches were subverted, all books of the Scriptures
burned, many of the faithful, both men and women, were slain. Among
whom the first and chiefest was Albanus, then Julius, Aaron, and
Amphibalus, of whom sufficiently hath been said before. What were the
others, or how many they were that suffered beside, stories make no
rehearsal. And thus much thereof.

Now as concerning the government of these above-named kings of
Britain, although I have little or nothing to note which greatly
appertaineth to the matter of this ecclesiastical history, yet this
is not to be passed over. First, how in the order of these kings
cometh Constantine, the great and worthy emperor, who was not only a
Briton born by his mother Helena, being King Coilus's daughter, but
also by the help of the Britons' army, (under the power of God,)
which the said Constantine took with him out of Britain to Rome,
obtained with great victory peace and tranquillity to the whole
universal church of Christ, having three legions with him out of this
realm of chosen and able soldiers, whereby the strength of the land
was not a little impaired and endangered, as afterwards in this story
followeth.

After him likewise Maximian, following his steps, took with him also
(as stories record) all the power and strength which was left, and
whatsoever he could make of able and fighting men, to subdue France;
besides the garrisons which he had out with him before, sending for
more to the number of a hundred thousand soldiers at once to be sent
to him out of Britain into France. At which time also Conanus his
partner, being then in France, sent over for virgins from Britain to
the number of eleven thousand; who, with Ursula, the prince Dionet's
daughter, being shipped over, many perished in the sea, some were
taken of the infidels marching upon the borders; with whom, because
they would not be polluted, all were destroyed, being miserably
dispersed, (some one way, some an other,) so that none escaped.

Thus poor Britain, being left naked and destitute on every side, as a
maimed body without might or strength, was left open to its enemies,
not able to succour itself without help of foreign friends; to whom
they were then constrained to fly, especially to the Romans, to whom
the Britons sent this word or message: Ætio ter consuli gemitus
Britannorum. Repellunt nos barbari ad mare: repellit nos mare ad
barbaros. Hinc oriuntur duo sunerum genera, quia aut jugulamur, aut
submergimur. But the Romans then began to forsake them, whereby they
were in nearer danger to be oppressed by Gwanus and Melga, had not
Gwetelinus, the archbishop of London, made over to Lesser Britain,
and, obtaining there help, had brought Constantine the king's brother
to rescue his country against the infidels. This Constantine was
brother to Aldroenus, king of Little Britain, and father to
Constance, Aurelius Ambrosius, and Uter, who after reigned kings in
Britain.

Thus by the means of the good archbishop and Constantine the state of
the religion and realm of Britain was in some mean quiet and safety,
during the time of the said Constantine, and of the good archbishop.
But as the realm of Britain almost from the beginning was never
without civil war, at length came wicked Vortigern, who, cruelly
causing Constance his prince to be murdered, ambitiously invaded the
crown; who then, fearing the other two brethren of Constans, which
were Aurelius and Uter, being then in Little Britain, did send over
for the aid of the Saxons, being then infidels; and not only that,
but also married with an infidel, the daughter of Hengist, called
Rowen. Whereupon the said Vortigern, not long after, by the said
Hengist and the Saxons, was with like treachery dispossessed of his
kingdom, and the people of Britain driven out of their country, after
that the Saxons had slain of their chief nobles and barons at one
meeting (joining together subtlety with cruelty) to the number of two
hundred seventy and one; some stories say four hundred and sixty.
This wicked act of the Saxons was done at Almesbury, or at a place
called Stonehenge. By the monument of which stones there hanging, it
seemeth that the noble Britons there were buried.

This fabulous story of the Welchmen, of bringing these stones from
Ireland by Merlin, I pass over. Some stories record that they were
slain, being bid to a banquet. Others say that it was done at a talk
or assembly, where the Saxons came with privy knives, contrary to
promise made; with the which knives they, giving a privy watchword in
their Saxon speech, Neme your sexes, slew the Britons unarmed. And
thus far concerning the history of the Britons.



18. THE ENTERING AND REIGNING OF THE SAXONS IN THE REALM OF ENGLAND.

This was the coming in first of the Angles or Saxons into this realm,
being yet unchristened and infidels, which was about the year of our
Lord, as William Malmsbury testifieth, four hundred sixty and nine,
the captains of whom were Hengist and Horsa. Although the said
Hengist and Saxons at their first coming, for all their subtle
working and cruel attempt, had no quiet settling in Britain, but were
driven out divers times by the valiantness of Aurelius Ambrosius and
his brother Uter above mentioned, who reigned after that among the
Britons; yet, notwithstanding, they were not so driven out but that
they returned again, and at length possessed all, driving the Britons
(such as remained) into Cambria, which we call now Wales. Hengist (as
some chronicles record) reigned three and forty years, and died in
Kent. Galfridus in suo Britannico, saith, that he was taken in war by
Aurelius Ambrosius, and beheaded at Coningsburgh, after he had
reigned nine and thirty years.

After the death of Hengist, his son Osca reigned four and twenty
years, leaving his son Octa, to whose reign, with his son Imenricus,
histories do attribute three and fifty years, who also were slain by
Uter Pendragon.

The Saxons, after they were settled in the possession of England,
distributed the realm among themselves first in seven parts, every
part to have his king; that is, the first to be the king of Kent; the
second to be king of Sussex and Southerie, holding his palace at
Cicester; the third king was of Westsex; the fourth king of Essex;
the fifth king was of the East Angles, that is, of Cambridgeshire,
Norfolk, and Suffolk; the sixth king of Merceland, or Mercia, and in
his kingdom were contained the countries of Lincoln, Leicester,
Huntingdon, Northampton, Oxford, Derby, Warwick, &c. The seventh king
had all the countries beyond Humber, and was called king of
Northumberland.

Now followeth the description of the British kings, reigning with the
Saxons in like manner.

Although the miserable Britons thus were bereaved of their land by
the cruel subtlety of the Saxons; yet were they not so driven out or
expelled, but that a certain kingdom remained among them in some part
of the land, namely, about Cornwall, and the parts of Cambria, which
is divided in two parts; South Wales, called Demetia, and North
Wales, called Venedocia. The said Britons moreover, through the
valiant acts of their kings, some times reigned also in other
countries, displacing the Saxons, and recovering again their own,
sometimes more, sometimes less, till the time of Carecius, whenas the
Britons, being deposed by Gormundus, (whose help they themselves sent
for out of Ireland against Carecius their wicked king,) utterly lost
their land and kingdom; being thence driven utterly into Wales and
Cornwall, in the year of our Lord 570.

In the reign of Ethelbert, which was then the fifth king of Kent, the
faith of Christ was first received of the Saxons, or Englishmen, by
the means of Gregory bishop of Rome, in manner and order as here
followeth, out of old histories collected and recorded.

First then, to join the order of our history together, the Christian
faith, first received of King Lucius, endured in Britain till this
time, near upon the season of four hundred years and odd; when by
Gurmundus Africanus, (as is said,) fighting with the Saxons against
the Britons, it was near extinct in all the land during the space of
about forty-four years. So that the first springing of Christ's
gospel in this land was in the year of our Lord 180. The coming of
the Saxons was in the year 449, or 469.



19. THE COMING OF AUSTIN

In the year then 598, Austin being sent from Gregory, came into
England: the occasion whereupon Gregory sent him hither was this.

In the days of Pelagius, bishop of Rome, Gregory chancing to see
certain children in the marketplace of Rome, (brought thither to be
sold out of England,) being fair and beautiful of visage, demanded
out of what country they were. And understanding they were
heathenish, out of England, lamented the case of the land, being so
beautiful and angelical, so to be subject under the prince of
darkness. And asking moreover out of what province they were, it was
answered, out of Deira, a part of North Saxons; whereof, as it is to
be thought, that which we now call Deirham taketh its name. Then he,
alluding to the name of Deira, These people (saith he) are to be
delivered tie Dei ira, which is, from God's wrath. Moreover,
understanding the king's name of that province to be Alle, (above
mentioned,) alluding likewise to his name, There (saith he) ought
Alleluia to be sung to the living God. Whereupon he being moved and
desirous to go and help the conversion of that country, was not
permitted of Pelagius and the Romans for that time to accomplish his
desire. But afterward, being bishop himself next after Pelagius, he
sent thither the foresaid Austin, with other preachers, near about to
the number of forty. But by the way, how it happened I cannot say, as
Austin with his company were passing in their journey, such a sudden
fear entered into their hearts, that (as Antoninus saith) they
returned all. Others write that Austin was sent back to Gregory
again, to release them of that voyage so dangerous and uncertain,
amongst such a barbarous people, whose language they neither knew,
nor were able to resist their rudeness. Then Gregory, with pithy
persuasions confirming and comforting him, sent him again with
letters both to the bishop of Arelatensis, willing him to help and
aid the said Austin and his company in all whatsoever his need
required. Also other letters he directed to the foresaid Austin unto
his fellows, exhorting them to go forward boldly to the Lord's work;
as by the tenor of the said epistle here following may appear.

"Gregory, the servant of God's servants, to the servants of the Lord.
Forsomuch as it is better not to take good things in hand, than after
they be begun to think to revolt back from the same again; therefore
now you may not nor cannot, dear children, but with all fervent study
and labour must needs go forward in that good business which, through
the help of God, you have well begun. Neither let the labour of your
journey nor the slanderous tongues of men appal you, but that with
all instance and fervency ye proceed and accomplish the thing which
the Lord hath ordained you to take in hand, knowing that your great
travail shall be recompensed with reward of greater glory hereafter
to come. Therefore, as we send here Austin to you again, whom also we
have ordained to be your governor; so do you humbly obey him in all
things, knowing that it shall be profitable so for your souls,
whatsoever at his admonition ye shall do. Almighty God with his grace
defend you, and grant me to see in the eternal country the fruit of
your labour; that although I cannot labour as I would with you, yet I
may be found partaker of your retribution, for that my will is good
to labour in the same fellowship with you together. The Lord God keep
you safe, most dear and well-beloved children. Dated the tenth before
the kalends of August, in the reign of our sovereign lord Mauricius
most virtuous emperor, the fourteenth of his empire."

Thus they, imboldened and comforted through the good words of
Gregory, sped forth their journey till they came at length to the
isle of Thanet, lying upon the east side of Kent. Near to the which
landing-place was then the manory or palace of the king, not far from
Sandwich, (eastward from Canterbury,) which the inhabitants of the
isle then called Richbourgh; whereof some part of the ruinous walls
is yet to be seen. The king then reigning in Kent was Ethelbert, as
above appeareth, the fifth king of that province; who at that time
had married a wife a French woman, being christened, named Berda,
whom he had received of her parents upon this condition, that he
should permit her, with her bishop committed unto her, called
Lebardus, to enjoy the freedom of her faith and religion; by the
means whereof he was more flexible, and sooner induced to embrace the
preaching and doctrine of Christ. Thus Austin, being arrived, sent
forth certain messengers and interpreters to the king; signifying
that such a one was come from Rome, bringing with him glad tidings to
him and all his people of life and salvation, eternally to reign in
heaven with the only true and living God for ever, if he would so
willingly hearken to the same, as he was gladly come to preach and
teach it unto him.

The king, who had heard of this religion before by means of his wife,
within a few days after cometh to the place where Austin was, to
speak with him; but that should be without the house, after the
manner of his law. Austin against his coming, as stories affirm,
erected up a banner of the crucifix, (such was then the grossness of
that time,) and preached to him the word of God. The king, answering
again, saith in effect as followeth: The words be very fair that you
preach and promise; nevertheless, because it is to me uncouth and
new, I cannot soon start away from my country law, wherewith I have
been so long inured, and assent to you. Albeit, yet notwithstanding
for that ye are come (as ye say) so far for my sake, ye shall not be
molested by me, but shall be right well entreated, having all things
to you ministered necessary for your supportation. Besides this,
neither do we debar you, but grant you free leave to preach to our
people and subjects, to convert whom ye may to the faith of your
religion.

When they had received this comfort of the king, they went with
procession to the city of Dorobernia, or Canterbury, singing
Allelujah with the Litany, which then by Gregory had been used at
Rome in the time of the great plague reigning then at Rome, mentioned
in old stories. The words of the Litany were these: Deprecamur te
Domine in omni misericordia tua, ut auferatur furor tuus et ira tua a
civitate ista, et de domo sancta tua, quoniam peccavimus, Alleluja:
that is, We beseech thee, O Lord, in all thy mercies, that thy fury
and anger may cease from this city, and from thy holy house, for we
have sinned, Allelujah. Thus they entering into the city of
Dorobernia, the head city of all that dominion at that time, where
the king had given them a mansion for their abode; there they
continued preaching and baptizing such as they had converted in the
east side of the city in the old church of St. Martin, (where the
queen was wont to resort,) unto the time that the king was converted
himself to Christ. At length, when the king had well considered the
honest conversation of their life, and moved with the miracles
wrought through God's hand by them, he heard them more gladly, and,
lastly, by their wholesome exhortations and example of godly life he
was by them converted and christened in the year above specified,
586, and the six and thirtieth year of his reign. After the king was
thus converted, innumerable other daily came in and were adjoined to
the church of Christ, whom the king did specially embrace, but
compelled none; for so he had learned, that the faith and service of
Christ ought to be voluntary, and not coacted. Then he gave to Austin
a place for the bishop's see at Christ's Church in Dorobernia, and
builded the abbey of St. Peter and Paul in the east side of the said
city, where after Austin and all the kings of Kent were buried, and
that place is now called St. Austin.

In this while Austin sailed into France unto the bishop Arelatensis,
called Ethereus, by him to be consecrated archbishop by the
commandment of Gregory, and so was. Also the said Austin sent to Rome
Laurentius, one of his company, to declare to Gregory how they had
sped, and what they had done in England; sending withal to have the
counsel and advice of Gregory concerning nine or ten questions,
whereof some are partly touched before.

The tenor of his questions or interrogations, with the answers of
Gregory to the same, here follow in English briefly translated.
The first interrogation.

My first question, reverend father, is concerning bishops, how they
ought to behave themselves toward their clerks; or, of such oblations
as the faithful offer upon the altar, what portions or dividends
ought to be made thereof?
The answer.

How a bishop ought to behave himself in the congregation the Holy
Scripture testifieth, which I doubt not but you know right well,
especially in the Epistles of St. Paul to Timothy, wherein he
laboureth to inform the said Timothy how to behave his conversation
in the house of the Lord. The manner is of the see apostolic to warn
and charge all such as be ordained bishops, of all their stipend, or
that which is given to make four partitions: one to the bishop for
hospitality and receiving comers in, another to the clergy, the third
to the poor, the fourth to the repairing of the churches. But because
your brotherhood, instructed with rules of monastical discipline,
cannot live separated from your clerks about you, therefore in the
English church (which now, through the providence of God, is brought
to the faith of Christ) you must observe this insitution concerning 
your conversation, which was in the first fathers in the beginning of
the primitive church; among whom there was not one which counted any
thing to be his own proper of all that he did possess, but all was
common among them.
The second interrogation.

I desire to know and to be instructed whether clerks, that cannot
contain, may marry; and if they do marry, whether then they ought to
return to the secular state again or no?
The answer.

If there be any clerks out of holy orders which cannot contain, let
them have their wives, and take their stipends or wages without. For
we read it so written of the foresaid fathers, that they divided to
every person according as their work was. Therefore, as concerning
the stipend of such, it must be provided and thought upon. And they
must be also holden under ecclesiastical discipline, to live a godly
conversation, to employ themselves in singing psalms, and to refrain
their tongue, heart, and body (by the grace of God) from all things
unseemly and unlawful. As for the vulgar and common sort, which live
after the common condition of men, to describe what partitions to
make, what hospitality to keep, or what works of mercy to exhibit, to
such I have nothing to say, but to give (as our Master teacheth) in
all our deeds of mercy of that which aboundeth: Of that (saith he)
which aboundeth, or is overplus, give alms, and, behold, all things
be clean unto you.
The third interrogation.

Seeing there is but one faith, how happeneth it then the ceremonies
and customs of churches to be so divers; as in the church of Rome
there is one custom and manner of mass, and the French church hath
another?
The answer.

The custom of the church of Rome, what it is you know, wherein you
remember that you have been brought up from your youth; but rather it
pleaseth me better, that whether it be in the church of Rome, or any
French church, where ye find any thing that seemeth better to the
service and pleasing of God, that ye choose the same, and so infer
and bring into the English church (which is yet new in the faith) the
best and choicest things chosen out of many churches; for things are
not to be beloved for the place sake, but the place is to be beloved
for the things that be good; wherefore such things as be good, godly,
and religious, those choose out of all churches, and induce to your
people, that they may take root in the minds of Englishmen.
The fourth interrogation.

I pray you, what punishment judge you for him that shall steal or
pilfer any thing out of the church?
The answer.

This your brotherhood may soon discern by the person of a thief, how
it ought to be corrected. For some there be that, having sufficient
to live upon, yet do steal. Others there be which steal of mere
necessity. Wherefore, considering the quality and difference of the
crime, necessary it is that some be corrected by loss of goods, some
by stripes, some others more sharply, and some more easy; yea, and
when sharper correction is to be executed, yet that must be done with
charity, and with no fury; for in punishing offenders this is the
cause and end wherefore they are punished, because they should be
saved, and not perish in hell-fire. And so ought discipline to
proceed in correcting the faithful, as do good fathers in punishing
their children, whom both they chasten for their evil, and yet, being
chastened, they look to have them their heirs, and think to leave
them all they have, notwithstanding they correct them sometimes in
anger. Therefore this charity must be kept in mind; and in the
correction there is a measure to be had, so that the mind never do
any thing without the rule of reason. Ye add, moreover, with what
recompence of measure those things ought to be required again which
be stolen out of churches? But God forbid that the church should ever
require again with increase that which is lost in outward things, and
to seek her gain by endamaging others.
The fifth interrogation.

Item, Whether two brethren may marry two sisters, being far off from
any part of kindred?
The answer.

This in no part of Scripture is forbidden, but it may well and
lawfully be done.
The sixth interrogation.

Item, To what degree of kindred may the matrimony of the faithful
extend with their kindred, or whether it is lawful to marry with the
step-mother and her kinsfolks?
The answer.

A certain terrene law amongst the old Romans doth permit, that either
brother or sister, or the son and daughter of two brethren, may marry
together. But by the experience we learn that the issue of such
marriage doth never thrive nor come forward. Also the holy law of God
forbiddeth to reveal the turpitude of thy blood or kindred. Wherefore
necessary it is that in the third or fourth degree the faithful may
lawfully marry; for in the second (being an unlawful) they must needs
refrain. To be coupled with the step-mother is utterly abominable,
for it is written in the law, Thou shalt not reveal the turpitude of
thy father. Forsomuch then as it is so written in the law, And they
shall be two in one flesh; the son then that presumeth to reveal the
turpitude of his step-mother, which is one flesh with his father,
what doth he then but reveal the turpitude of his own father?
Likewise it was forbidden and unlawful to marry with thy kinswoman,
which by her first marriage was made one flesh with thy brother; for
the which cause John the Baptist also lost his head, and was crowned
a martyr; who, though he died not for the confession of Christ, yet
forsomuch as Christ saith, I am the truth, therefore, in that John
Baptist was slain for the truth, it may be said his blood was shed
for Christ.
The seventh interrogation.

Item, Whether such as so be coupled together in filthy and unlawful
matrimony ought to be separated, and denied the partaking of the holy
communion?
The answer.

Because there he many of the nation of English men which, being yet
in their infidelity, were so joined and coupled in such execrable
marriage, the same, coming now to faith, are to be admonished
hereafter to abstain from the like; and, that they know the same to
be a grievous sin, that they dread the dreadful judgment of God, lest
for their carnal delectation they incur the torments of eternal
punishment. And yet notwithstanding they are not to be secluded
therefore from the participation of Christ's body and blood, lest we
should seem to revenge those things in them which they before their
baptism through ignorance did commit. For in this time the holy
church doth correct some faults more fervently; some faults she
suffereth again through mansuetude and meekness; some wittingly and
willingly she doth wink at and dissemble, that many times the evil
which she doth detest through bearing and dissembling she may stop
and bridle. All they, therefore, which are come to the faith must be
admonished that they commit no such offence. Which thing if they do,
they are to be deprived of the communion of the Lord's body and
blood. For like as in them that fall through ignorance, their default
in this case is tolerable; so in them again it is strongly to be
ensued, which, knowing they do naught, yet fear not to commit.
The eighth interrogation.

Item, In this I desire to be satisfied, after what manner I should
deal or do with the bishops of France and of Britain?
The answer.

As touching the bishops in France, I give you no authority or power
over them. For the bishops of Aralas, or Orleans, hath by the old
time of our predecessors received the pall, whom now we ought not to
deprive of his authority. Therefore when your brotherhood shall go
unto the province of France, whatsoever ye shall have there to do
with the bishop of Orleans, so do, that he lose nothing of that which
he hath found and obtained of the ancient ordinance of our fore-
elders. But as concerning the bishops of Britain, we commit them all
to your brotherhood, that the ignorant may be taught, the infirm by
persuasion may be confirmed, the wilful by authority may be
corrected.
The ninth interrogation.

Whether a woman being great with child ought to be baptized? Or after
she hath children, after how long time she ought to enter into the
church? Or else, that which she hath brought forth, lest it should be
prevented with death, after how many days it ought to receive
baptism? All which things must be declared and opened to the rude
multitude of Englishmen.
The answer.

The childing or bearing woman, why may she not be baptized, seeing
that the fruitfulness of the flesh is no fault before the eyes of
Almighty God? For our first parents in Pandise, after they had
transgressed, lost their immortality by the just judgment of God,
which they had taken before. Then because Almighty God would not
mankind utterly to perish, because of his fall, (although he lost now
his immortality for his trespass,) yet, of his benign pity, left,
notwithstanding, to him the fruit and ge neration of issue. Wherefore
the issue and generation of man's nature, which is conserved by the
gift of Almighty God, how can it be debarred from the grace of holy
baptism?

As concerning the churching of women, after they have travailed,
where ye demand after how many days they ought to go to the church,
this you have learned in the old law, that for a manchild thirty-
three days, after a woman-child sixty and six days, be appointed her
to keep in; albeit this you must take to be understood in a mystery.
For if she should, the hour after her travail. enter into the church
to give thanks, she committed therein no sin; for why? the lust and
pleasure of the flesh, and not the travail and pain of the flesh, is
sin. Therefore, if we forbid the woman after her labour to enter into
the church, then what do we else but count the same punishment given
unto her for sin? Therefore for the woman after her labour to be
baptized, either that which she hath travailed forth, (if present
necessity of death doth so require,) yea, in the selfsame hour,
either she that hath brought forth, either that which is born in the
same hour when it is born, to be baptized we do not forbid.

But now there is a lewd and naughty custom risen in the condition of
married folks, that mothers do contemn to nurse their own children
which they have borne, but set them to other women out to nurse,
which seemeth only to come of the cause of incontinency; for while
they will not contain themselves, therefore they put from them their
children to nurse, &c.

To return now to the story again. Gregory, after he had sent these
resolutions to the questions of Austin, sendeth, moreover, to the
church of England more coadjutors and helpers, as Melitus, Justus,
Paulinus, and Ruffianus, with books and such other implements as he
thought necessary for the English church. He sendeth moreover to the
foresaid Austin a pall with letters, wherein he setteth an order
between the two metropolitan sees, the one to be at London, the other
to be at York. Nothwithstanding he granted to the said Austin, during
his life, to be the only chief archbishop of all the land; and after
his time, then to return to the two foresaid sees of London and York,
as is in the same letter contained, the tenor whereof here followeth
in his own words, as ensueth.

" To the reverend and virtuous brother Augustine, his fellow bishop,
Gregorius the servant of the servants of God. Although it be most
certain that unspeakable rewards of the heavenly King be laid up for
all such as labour in the word of the Almighty God; yet it shall be
requisite for us to re ward the same also with our benefits, to the
end they may be more encouraged to go forward in the study of their
spiritual work. And forsomuch now as the new church of Englishmen is
brought to the grace of Almighty God, through his mighty help and
your travail, therefore we have granted to you the use of the pall,
only to be used at the solemnity of your mass; so that it shall be
lawful for you to ordain twelve bishops, such as shall be subject to
your province. So that hereafter always the bishop of the city of
London shall be ordained and consecrated by his own proper synod; and
so to receive the pall of honour from the holy and apostolic see,
wherein I here (by the permission of God) do serve. And as touching
the city of York, we will send also a bishop thither, whom you may
think meet to ordain. So that if that city, with other places
bordering thereby, shall receive the word of God, he shall have power
likewise to ordain twelve bishops, and have the honour of a
metropolitan; to whom also, if God spare me life, I intend by the
favour of God to send a pall; this provided, that notwithstanding he
shall be subject to your brotherly appointment. But after your
decease, the same metropolitan so to be over the bishops whom he
ordereth, that he be in no wise subject to the metropolitan of London
after you. And hereafter, betwixt these two metropolitans of London
and York, let there be had such distinction of honour, that he shall
have the priority which shall in time first be ordained. With common
counsel, and affection of heart, let them go both together, disposing
with one accord such things as be to be done for the zeal of Christ.
Let them forethink and deliberate together prudently, and what they
deliberate wisely let them accomplish concordly, nor jarring nor
swerving one from the other. But as for your part, you shall be
endued with authority, not only over those bishops that you
constitute, and over the other constituted by the bishop of York; but
also you shall have all other priests of whole Britain subject unto
our Lord Jesus Christ, to the end that through your preaching and
holiness of life they may learn both to believe rightly, and to live
purely, and so in directing their life, both by the rule of true
faith and virtuous manners, they may attain, when God shall call
them, the fruition and kingdom of heaven. God preserve you in health,
reverend brother. The tenth before the kalends of July, in the reign
of our sovereign lord Mauricius most virtuous emperor."

Besides this, the said Gregory sendeth also another letter to
Melitus, concerning his judgment what is to be done with the
idolatrous temples and fanes of the Englishmen newly converted, which
fanes he thinketh not best to pluck down, but to convert the use
thereof, and so let them stand. And likewise of their sacrifices and
killing of oxen, how the same ought to be ordered, and how to be
altered, disputing by the occasions thereof of the sacrifices of the
old Egyptians, permitted of God unto the Israelites, the end and use
thereof being altered, &c.

He sendeth also another letter to the foresaid Austin, wherein he
warneth him not to be proud or puffed up for the miracles wrought of
God by him in converting the people of England, but rather to fear
and tremble, lest so much as he were puffed up by the outward work of
miracles, so much he should fall inwardly through the vain-glory of
his heart; and therefore wisely exhorteth him to repress the swelling
glory of heart, with the remembrance of his sins rather against God,
whereby he rather hath cause to lament than to rejoice for the other.
Not all the elect of God (saith he) work miracles, and yet have they
their names written in the book of life. And therefore he should not
count so much of those miracles done, but rather rejoice with the
disciples of Christ, and labour to have his name written in the book
of life, where all the elect of God be contained; neither is there
any end of that rejoicing. And whatsoever miracles it hath pleased
God by him to have been done, he should remember they were not done
for him, but for their conversion, whose salvation God sought
thereby, &c.

Item, he directed another epistle to King Ethelbert, as is expressed
at large in the Chronicle of Henry Huntington; in the which epistle,
first, he praiseth God, then commendeth the goodness of the king, by
whom it pleased God so to work such goodness of the people. Secondly,
exhorteth him to persist and continue in the godly profession of
Christ's faith, and to be fervent and zealous in the same; in
converting the multitude, in destroying the temples and works of
idolatry, in ruling and governing the people in all holiness and
godly conversation, after the godly example of the emperor
Constantine the Great. Lastly, comforting him with the promises of
life and reward to come with the Lord that reigneth and liveth for
ever; premonishing him besides of the terrors and distresses that
shall happen, though not in his days, yet before the terrible day of
God's judgment. Wherefore he willeth him always to be solicitous for
his soul, and suspectful of the hour of his death, and watchful of
the judgment, that he may be always prepared for the same when that
judgment shall come. In the end he desireth him to accept such
presents and gifts which he thought good to send unto him from Rome,
&c.

Austin thus receiving his pall from Gregory, as is above said, and
now of a monk being made an archbishop, after he had baptized a great
part of Kent, he afterward made two archbishops, or metropolitans, by
the commandment of Gregory, as witnesseth Polychron., one at London,
another at York.

Melitus, of whom mention is made before, was sent especially to the
East Saxons in the province of Essex, where after he was made bishop
of London under Sigebert, king of Essex; which Sigebert, together
with his uncle Ethelbert, first builded the church and minster of St.
Paul in London, and appointed it to Melitus for the bishop's see.
Austin (associate with this Melitus and Justus through the help of
Ethelbert) assembled and gathered together the bishops and doctors of
Britain in a place which, taking the name of the said Austin, was
called Austin's Oak. In this assembly he charged the said bishops,
that they should preach with him the word of God to the Englishmen,
and also that they should among themselves reform certain rites and
usages in their church, specially for keeping of their Eastertide,
baptizing after the manner of Rome, and such other like. To these the
Scots and Britons would not agree, refusing to leave the custom which
they so long time had continued, without the assent of them all which
used the same. Here the stories both of Beda, Cestrensis in
Polychron., Huntingtonensis, Iornalensis, Fabianus, and others more,
write of a certain miracle wrought upon a blind Englishman; whom when
the Britons could not help, Austin kneeling down, and praying,
restored the blind man to sight before them all, for a confirmation
(as these authors say) of his opinion in keeping of Easter. But
concerning the credit of this miracle, that I leave to the authors of
whom I had it.

Then Austin gathered another synod, to the which came seven bishops
of Britain, with the wisest men of that famous abbey of Bangor. But
first they took counsel of a certain wise and holy man amongst them
what to do, and whether they should be obedient to Austin or not. And
he said, If he be the servant of God, agree unto him. But how shall
we know that? said they. To whom he answered again, If he be meek and
humble of heart, by that know that he is the servant of God. To this
they said again, And how shall we know him to be humble and meek of
heart? By this, (quoth he,) seeing you are the greater number, if he,
at your coming into your synod, rise up and courteously receive you,
perceive him to be a humble and a meek man. But if he shall contemn
and despise you, being (as ye are) the greater part, despise you him
again. Thus the British bishops, entering into the council, Austin,
after the Romish manner, keeping his chair, would not remove. Whereat
they, being not a little offended, after some heat of words, in
disdain and great displeasure departed thence. To whom then Austin
spake, and said, that if they would not take peace with their
brethren, they should receive war with their enemies; and if they
disdained to preach with them the way of life to the English nation,
they should suffer by their hands the revenge of death. Which not
long after so came to pass by the means of Ethelfride, king of
Northumberland; who being yet a pagan, and stirred with a fierce fury
against the Britons, came with a great army against the city of
Chester, where Brocmaile, the consul of that city, a friend and
helper of the Britons' side, was ready with his force to receive him.
There was at the same time at Bangor, in Wales, an exceeding great
monastery, wherein was such a number of monks, as Galfridus with
other authors do testify, that if the whole company were divided into
seven parts, in every of the seven parts were contained not so few as
three hundred monks; which all did live by the sweat of their brows,
and labour of their own hands, having one for their ruler, named
Dino. Out of this monastery came the monks of Chester to pray for the
good success of Brocmaile, fighting for them against the Saxons.
Three days they continued in fasting and prayer. When Ethelfride, the
foresaid king, seeing them so intentive to their prayers, demanded
the cause of their coming thither in such a company, and when he
perceived it was to pray for their consul, Then, (saith he,) although
they bear no weapon, yet they fight against us, and with their
prayers and preachings they persecute us. Where upon, after that
Brocmaile, being overcome, did fly away, the king commanded his men
to turn their weapons against the silly unarmed monks, of whom he
slew the same time, or rather martyred, eleven hundred; only fifty
persons of that number did fly and escape away with Brocmaile, the
rest were all slain. The authors that write of this lamentable murder
declare and say how the forespeaking of Austin was here verified upon
the Britons; which, because they would not join peace with their
friends, he said should be destroyed of their enemies. Of both these
parties the reader may judge what he pleaseth; I cannot see but both
together were to be blamed. And as I cannot but accuse the one, so I
cannot defend the other. First, Austin in this matter can in no wise
be excused; who being a monk before, and therefore a scholar and
professor of humility, showed so little humility in this assembly to
seven bishops and an archbishop, coming at his commandment to the
council, that he thought scorn once to stir at their coming in. Much
less would his Pharisaical solemnity have girded himself, and washed
his brethren's feet after their travel, as Christ our great Master
did to his disciples; seeing his lordship was so high, or rather so
heavy, or rather so proud, that he could not find in his heart to
give them a little moving of his body, to declare a brotherly and a
humble heart. Again, the Britons were as much or more to blame, who
so much neglected their spiritual duty in revenging their temporal
injury, that they denied to join their helping labour to turn the
idolatrous Saxons to the way of life and salvation, in which respect
all private cases ought to give place, and to be forgotten. For the
which cause, although lamentable to us, yet no great marvel in them,
if the stroke of God's punishment did light upon them, according to
the words of Austin, as is before declared. But especially the cruel
king in this fact was most of all to blame so furiously to fly upon
them, which had neither weapon to resist him, nor yet any will to
harm him. And so likewise the same or like happened to himself
afterward. For so was he also slain in the field by Christian Edwin,
who succeeded him, as he had slain the Christians before, which was
about the year of our Lord 610. But to return to Austin again, who,
by report of authors, was departed before this cruelty was done:
after he had baptized and christened ten thousand Saxons or Angles in
the West river, that is called Swale, beside York, on a Christmas
day, perceiving his end to draw near, he ordained a successor, named
Laurentius, to rule after him the archbishop's see of Dorobernia.
Where note, by the way, (Christian reader,) that whereas Austin
baptized then in rivers, it followeth there was then no use of fonts.
Again, if it be true that Fabian saith he baptized ten thousand in
one day, the rite then of baptizing at Rome was not so ceremonial,
neither had so many trinkets at that time as it hath had since; or
else it could not be that he could baptize so many in one day.

In the mean season, about this time departed Gregory, bishop of Rome,
of whom it is said, that of the number of all the first bishops
before him in the primitive time he was the basest, of all them that
came after him he was the best. About which time also died in Wales
David, archbishop first of Kairleon, who then translated the see from
thence to Menevia, and therefore is called David of Wales. Not long
after this also deceased the foresaid Austin in England, after he had
sat there fifteen or sixteen years; by the which count we may note it
not to be true that Henry Huntington and others do witness, that
Austin was dead before that battle of Ethelfride against the monks of
Bangor. For if it be true that Polychronicon testifieth of this
murder, to be done about the year of our Lord 609, and the coming of
Austin first into the realm to be anno 596, then Austin, enduring
sixteen years, could not be dead at this battle. Moreover, Galfridus
Monumetensis declareth concerning the same battle, that Ethelbert,
the king of Kent, being (as is said) converted by Austin to Christ's
faith, after he saw the Britons to disdain and deny their subjection
unto Austin, neither would assist him with preaching to the English
nation; therefore stirred up he the foresaid Ethelfride to war
against the Britons. But that seemeth rather suspicious than true,
that he, being a Christian king, either could so much prevail with a
pagan idolater, or else would attempt so far to commit such a cruel
deed. But of uncertain things I have nothing certainly to say, less
to judge.



20. THE CONVERSION OF THE SAXONS

About this present time above prefixed, which is anno 610, I read in
the story of Ranulphus Cestren the writer of Polychronicon, of John
the patriarch of Alexandria, whom, for His rare example of
hospitality and bountifulness to the poor, I thought no less worthy
to have place amongst good men, than I see the same now to be
followed of few. This John, (being before belike a hard and sparing
man,) as he was at his prayer, upon a time (it is said) there
appeared to him a comely virgin, having on her head a garland of
olive leaves, which named herself Mercy, saying to him, and
promising, that if he would take her to wife, he should prosper well.
This, whether it were true or not, or else invented for a morality, I
would wish this flourishing damsel to be married to more than to this
John, that she should not live so long a virgin as now she doth,
because no man will marry her. But to return to this patriarch, who
after that day (as the story recordeth) was so merciful and so
beneficial, especially to the poor and needy, that he counted them as
his masters, and himself as a servant and steward unto them; this
patriarch was wont commonly twice a week to sit at his door all the
day long, to take up matters, and to set unity where was any
variance. One day it happened, as he was sitting all the day before
his gate, and saw no man come, he lamented that all that day he had
done no good; to whom his deacon, standing by, answered again, that
he had more cause to rejoice, seeing he had brought the city in that
order and in such peace, that there needed no reconcilement amongst
them, Another time, as the said John the patriarch was at service,
and reading the Gospel in the church, the people (as their used
manner is) went out of the church to talk and jangle: he perceiving
that, went out likewise, and sat amongst them; whereat they marvelled
to see him do so. My children, (said he,) where the flock is, there
ought the shepherd to be; wherefore either come you in, that I may
also come in with you; or else if you tarry out, I will likewise
tarry out together with you, &c.

As touching the acts and deeds of Gregory above mentioned, how he
withstood the ambitious pride of John, patriarch of Constantinople,
which would be the universal priest, and only chief bishop of all
others, declaring him to be no less than the forerunner or antichrist
that would take that name upon him, how and with what reasons he
answered again the letters of the emperor Mauricius in that behalf;
sufficient relation is made thereof in the first entry and beginning
of this book. This Gregory, among many other things induced into the
church, (the specialties whereof hereafter shall follow, Christ
willing, more at large,) first began and brought in this title among
the Roman bishops, to be called, Servant of the servants of God;
putting them in remembrance thereby, both of their humbleness, and
also of their duty in the church of Christ. Moreover, as concerning
his act for the sole life of priests first begun, and then broken
again; also concerning the order of Gregory's mass book to be
received in all churches; hereof whoso lusteth to read more shall
find the same in other places hereafter, namely, when we come to the
time of Pope Adrian the First.

After the death of Gregory above mentioned, first came Sabinianus,
who, as he was a malicious detractor of Gregory, and of his works, so
he continued not long, scarce the space of two years. After whom
succeeded next Bonifacius the Third, which albeit he reigned but one
year, yet in that one year he did more hurt than Gregory, with so
great labours, and in so many years, could do good before. For that
which Gregory kept out he brought in; obtaining of Phocas, the wicked
emperor, for him and his successors after him, that the see of Rome
above all other churches should have the pre-eminence, and that the
bishop of Rome should be the universal head of all churches of Christ
in Christendom; alleging for him this frivolous reason, that St.
Peter had and left to his ancestors in Rome the keys of binding and
loosing, &c. And thus began first Rome to take a head above all other
churches by the means of Boniface the Third, who, as he lacked no
boldness nor ambition to seek it, so neither lacked he an emperor fit
and meet to give such.a gift. This emperor's name was Phocas, a man
of such wickedness and ambition, (most like to his own bishop
Boniface,) that, to aspire to the empire, he murdered his own master,
the emperor Mauricius, and his children. Thus Phocas, coming up to be
emperor, after his detestable villany done, thinking to stablish his
empire with friendship and favour of his people, and especially with
the bishop of Rome, quickly condescended to all his petitions, and so
granted him (as it is said) to be that he would, the universal and
head bishop over all Christian churches. But as blood commonly
requireth blood again, so it came to pass on the said Phocas. For as
he had cruelly slain the lord and emperor Mauricius before, so he in
like manner (of Heraclius the emperor succeeding him) had his hands
and feet cut off, and so was cast into the sea. And thus wicked
Phocas, which gave the first supremacy to Rome, lost his own. But
Rome would not so soon lose his supremacy once given as the giver
lost his life; for ever since from that day it hath holden, defended,
and maintained the same still, and yet doth to this present day, by
all force and policy possible. And thus much concerning Boniface,
whom by the words of Gregory, we may well call the runner before
antichrist. For as Gregory brought in their style, Servant of the
servants of God. this Boniface brought into their heads first, We
will and command, We enjoin and charge you, &c.

Mention was made a little before of Ethelbert, king of Kent, and also
of Ethelfride, king of North Saxon or Northumbria. This Ethelbert,
having under his subjection all the other Saxon kings unto Humber,
after he had first received himself, and caused to be received of
others, the Christian faith by the preaching of Austin, confirmed
afterward in the same faith, amongst other costly deeds, with the
help of Sigebert, king of Essex, his nephew, then reigning under him,
began the foundation of Paul's church within the city of London, and
ordained it for the bishop's see of London. For the archbishop's see,
which beforetime had been at London, was by Austin and this
Ethelbert, at the prayer of the citizens of Dorobernia, translated to
the said city. Wherefore such authors as say that Paul's was builded
by Sigebert say not amiss; which Sigebert was the king of Essex, in
which province standeth the city of London. This Ethelbert also
founded the church of St. Andrew in the city of Dorubres in Kent, now
called Rochester, of one Rof, distant from Dorobernia four and twenty
miles. Of this city Justus was bishop, ordained before by Austin.
Moreover, the forenamed Ethelbert stirred up a dweller or citizen of
London to make a chapel or church of St. Peter in the west end of
London, then called Thorny, now the town of Westminster, which church
or chapel was after by Edward the Confessor enlarged or new builded;
lastly, of Henry the Third it was newly again reedified and made, as
it is now, a large monastery, &c. After these Christian and worthy
acts, this Ethelbert, when he had reigned the course of fifty and six
years, changed this mortal life about the year of our Lord 616, whom
some stories say to be slain in a fight between him and Ethelfride,
king of North Saxons.

In the mean time the foresaid Ethelfride, king of Northumberland,
after the cruel murder of the monks of Bangor, escaped not long unto
his hire; for after he had reigned four and twenty years he was slain
in the field of Edwin, who succeeded in Northumberland after him.

This Edwin, being the son not of Ethelfride, but rather of Alla, was
first a panim or idolater; afterward by Paulinus was christened, and
the first christened king in Northumberland. The occasion of which
his calling or conversion, as is in sundry stories contained, was
this.

Edwin, being yet a pagan, married the daughter of Ethelbert, king of
Kent, called Edelburge, a Christian woman, otherwise called Tace. But
before this marriage, Edwin being yet young, Ethelfride the king, 
conceiving envy against him, persecuted him so sore, that he was
forced to fly to Redwaldus, king of East Angles. The which
Redwaldus,what for fear, what with bribes, being corrupted of
Ethelfride, at length privily had intended to have betrayed Edwin.
But as God's will was, Edwin having warning thereof by a secret
friend of his, was moved to fly, and to save himself, being promised
also of his friends to be safely conveyed away, if he would thereto
agree. To whom Edwin said, Whither shall I fly, that have so long
fleen the hands of mine enemies, through all provinces of the realm?
And if I must needs be slain, I had rather he should do it than
another unworthy person. Thus he, remaining by himself alone and
solitary, sitting in a great study, there appeared unto him suddenly
a certain stranger, to him unknown, and said, I know well the cause
of thy thought and heaviness. What wouldst thou give him that should
deliver thee out of this fear, and should reconcile King Redwald to
thee again? I would give him (said Edwin) all that I ever could make.
And he said again, And what if I make thee a mightier king than was
any of thy progenitors? He answered again as before. Moreover, (saith
he,) and what if he show thee a better kind and way of life, than
ever was showed to any of thine ancestors before thee; wilt thou obey
him and do after his counsel? Yea, (said Edwin,) promising most
firmly with all his heart so to do. Then he, laying his hand upon his
head, When (said he) this token happeneth unto thee, then remember
this time of thy tribulation, and the promise which thou hast made,
and the word which now I say unto thee. And with that he vanished out
of his sight suddenly. After this so done, as Edwin was sitting alone
by himself pensive and sad, his foresaid friend, which moved him
before to fly, cometh to him, bidding him be of good cheer; for the
heart (said he) of King Redwaldus, which had before intended thy
destruction, is now altered through the counsel of the queen, and is
fully bent to keep his promise with you, whatsoever shall fall
thereupon. To make the story short, Redwaldus the king (although
Fabian, following Henry Huntington, saith it was Edwin) with all
convenient speed assembled an host, wherewith he suddenly coming upon
Ethelfride, gave battle unto him about the borders of Mercia, where
Ethelfride, king of Northumberland, with Reiner, Redwaldus's son, was
slain in the field. By reason whereof Edwin was quietly placed in the
possession of Northumberland.
(Illustration: Edwin and the stranger )

After this, Quicelinus, with Kinegilsus his brother, kings of West
Saxons, conspiring the death of Edwin, now king of Northumberland,
upon envy and malice sent upon an Easter day a swordman, named Emmer,
privily to slay the said Edwin. But one Lilla, the king's trusty
servant, disgarnished of a shield or other weapon to defend his
master, start between the king and the sword, and was stricken
through the body and died, and the king was wounded with the same
stroke.

After this, about Whitsuntide, the king assembled his host, intending
to make war against the king of West Saxons, promising to Christ to
be christened if he would give him the victory. He then proceeded to
the battle against Quiceline and Kinegilsus, with Kenwolcus, and
other enemies, who being all vanquished and put to flight, Edwin
through the power of Christ returneth home victorious.

About the same season Pope Boniface the Fifth sent also to the said
Edwin letters exhortatory, with sundry presents from Rome to him, and
to Edelburge the queen; but neither would that prevail. Then
Paulinus, seeing the king so hard to be converted, poured out his
prayers unto God for his conversion; who the same time had revealed
to him by the Holy Ghost the oracle above mentioned, which was showed
to the king when he was with Redwaldus, king of the East Angles.
Whereupon Paulinus, coming after to the king on a certain day, and
laying his hand upon the king's head, asked him if he knew that
token. The king hearing this, and remembering well the token, was
ready to fall down at his feet. But Paulinus, not suffering that, did
lift him up again, saying unto him, Behold, O king, you have
vanquished your enemies, you have obtained your kingdom; now perform
the third thing which you promised, that is, to receive the faith of
Christ, and to be obedient to him. Whereupon the king, conferring
with his council and his nobles, was baptized of Paulinus at York,
with many of his other subjects with him. Insomuch that Coifie, the
chief of the prelates of his old idolatry, armed himself with his
idolatrous bishops, and bestrode good horses, which before by their
old law they might not do, nor ride but only a mare; and so destroyed
all the altars of idolatry, and their temple of idols, which was at
Godmundham, not far from York. And this was in the eleventh year of
his reign.

From that time forth, during the life of Edwin, which was the term of
six years more, Paulinus christened continually in the rivers of
Gwenie and Swala, in both provinces of Deira, and in Bernicia, using
the said rivers for his fonts, and preached in Lincolnshire, where he
builded also a church of stone at Lincoln.

In this time was so great peace in the kingdom of Edwin after his
conversion, that a woman laden with gold might have gone from the one
side of the sea to the other, and no man molest her. Moreover, by the
highway sides through all his kingdom he caused by every well or
spring to be chained a dish or bowl of brass, to take up water for
the refreshing of such as went by the way, which bowls of brass there
remained safe, that no man touched them during all the life of the
said Edwin. Such was then the tender care and study of Christian
princes for the refreshing of their subjects. But that was then the
brazen world, which now is grown to iron and lead.

This Edwin, who first brought in the faith in the north parts,
continuing after his baptism six years, at len the was slain in
battle by Cedwalla, king of the Britons, and by wicked Penda, king of
the Mercians, with his son Offricus also, in the field called
Hatfield.

This Paulinus was the first archbishop of York; and as he was of
Justus, archbishop of Canterbury, ordained archbishop of the see of
York; so he again, after the decease of Justus, ordained Honorius to
be archbishop of Canterbury.

Paulinus, after the death of godly Edwin, seeing unmerciful Cedwalla
or Cedwallon with his Britons, and wicked Penda with the idolatrous
Mercians, to spoil the land in such sort, as they made no spare
neither of age, nor sex, nor religion, was compelled to fly with
Edelburge the queen, and Eufled her daughter, by water into Kent,
where the said archbishop Paulinus remained bishop of Rochester the
space of nineteen years. And so the church of Northumberland lacked a
bishop for the space of thirty years after. Notwithstanding he left
there one James his deacon, a good man, who continued there baptizing
and preaching in the north parts, till that peace being recovered,
and the number of the faithful increasing, the church came again to
his stay.

By means of this Edwin, Erpwaldus, king of the East Angles, son to
Redwaldus above mentioned, was reduced to Christ's faith.

After the decease of Edwin, and his son Offricke, both slain in
battle, reigned Osricus and Eufridus, the one in Deira, the other in
Bernicia. Osricus was the son of Elfricus, which was brother to
Ethelfride. Eaufridus was the eldest son of Ethelfride; for
Ethelfride had three sons, to wit, Eaufridus, Oswaldus, and Osricus.
These two kings of Deira and Bernicia, Osricus and Eufride, being
first christened in Scotland, after being kings, returned to their
idolatry; and so in the year following were slain one after the other
by the foresaid Cedwalla and wicked Penda.

After whom succeeded in Northumberland the second son of Ethelfride,
named Oswaldus, having rule on both the provinces, as well Deira as
Bernicia. Whereof when the foresaid Cedwalla (or Cadwallo) the
Britain king had understanding, who before had made havoc of the
Saxons, and thought to have rooted them utterly out of England, he
kept King Penda, with a mighty host of the Britons, thinking to slay
also Oswald as he had before slain his brother Eaufride and King
Edwin before them. But Oswald, when he was warned of the great
strength of this Cedwall and Penda, made his prayers to God, and
besought him meekly of help to withstand his enemy, for the salvation
of his people. Thus, after Oswald had prayed for the saving of his
people, the two hosts met in a field named Denesbury, some say
Hevenfield, where was fought a strong battle. But, finally, the army
and power of Penda and Cedwall, which were far exceeding the number
of Oswald's host, was chased, and most part slain, of Oswaldus; after
he reigned over the Britons two and twenty years, leaving after him a
son, whom Gaufridus called Cadwaladrus, the last king of the Britons.

Of this Oswald much praise and commendation is written in authors for
his fervent zeal in Christ's religion, and merciful pity towards the
poor, with other great virtues more. As touching the miracles of St.
Oswald, what it pleased the people of that time to report of him, I
have not here to affirm. This I find in stories certain, that he
being well and virtuously disposed to the setting forth of Christ's
faith and doctrine, sent into Scotland for a certain bishop there
called Aidanus, which was a famous preacher. The king at what time he
was in Scotland banished had learned the Scottish tongue perfectly:
wherefore as this Aidanus preached in his Scottish tongue to the
Saxons, the king himself interpreting that which he had said,
disdained not to preach and expound the same unto his nobles and
subjects in the English tongue.

Moreover, towards the poor and needy his pity and tenderness was
such, being notwithstanding of so high and princely calling, that
upon a time, being then Easter-day, he sitting with the said Aidanus
at meat, and served, after the manner of kings, in silver, there
cometh to him one of the servitors, bringing him word that there was
a great multitude of poor people sitting in the street, which desired
some alms of the king. He, hearing this, commandeth not only the meat
prepared for his table to be carried unto them, but also, taking a
silver platter which stood before him, brake it in pieces, and sent
it amongst them, and so relieved his poor subjects not only with the
meat of his table, but with his dishes also. Aidanus the bishop,
seeing this, and marvelling thereat, taketh him by the hand, wishing
and praying in this wise: This hand (saith he) I pray God may
continue and never putrify. What the stories say more concerning this
hand of Oswald, I intend not to meddle further than simple, true, and
due probability will bear me out. In those days, and partly by the
means of the said Oswald, Kinigilsus, king of the West Saxons, was
converted to Christ's faith; especially through the godly labour of
Berinus, which was sent by Pope Honorius to preach in England, and
was then made bishop of Dorchester. To whom Quicelinus, brother of
Kinigilsus, after he had also received baptism of the said Berinus,
gave to him the said city to make there his see. And, as Guido
witnesseth, the said Quicelinus gave after to the bishop of
Winchester seven miles' compass of land to build there the bishop's
see, the which was accomplished and finished by Kenwalkus his son.

Of this Berinus, Malmesbury, Polychronicon, with divers other
writers, do report a thing strange and miraculous; which, if it be a
fable, as no doubt it is, I cannot but marvel that so many authors so
constantly agree in reporting and affirming the same. The matter is
this. This Berinus, being sent, as is said, by Honorius, to preach in
England, promiseth him to travel to the uttermost borders thereof,
and there to preach the gospel, where the name of Christ was never
heard. Thus he, setting forward in his journey, passeth through
France, and so to the sea-side; where he found a passage ready, and
the wind served so fair, that he was called upon in such haste, that 
he had no leisure to remember himself to take all things with him
which he had to carry. At length he was on the sea sailing, and
almost in the middle course of his passage he remembered himself of a
certain relic left behind him for haste, which Honorius had given him
at his coming out. Malmesburiensis calleth it Corporalia, which we
call a corporal, or such a like thing, and what else enclosed within
it I cannot tell. Here Berinus in great sorrow could not tell what to
do; if he should have spoken to the heathen mariners to turn their
course back again, they would have mocked him, and it had been in
vain. Wherefore, as the stories write, he boldly steppeth into the
sea, and, walking on foot back again, taketh with him that which was
left behind, and so returneth to his company again, having not one
thread of his garments wet. Of this miracle, or whether I should call
it a fable rather, let the reader judge as he thinketh, because it is
not written in the Scripture, we are not bound to believe it. But if
it were true, it is then thought to be wrought of God, not for any
holiness in the man or in the corporal, but a special gift for the
conversion of the heathen, for whose salvation God suffereth oft many
wonders to be done. This Berinus, being received in the ship again
with a great admiration of the mariners, who were therewith converted
and baptized, was driven at last by the weather to the coast of the
West Saxons, where Kinigilsus and his brother Quicelinus above
mentioned did reign. Which two kings the same time by the preaching
of Berinus were converted and made Christian men, with the people of
the country, being before rude and barbarous. It happened the same
time when the foresaid kings should be christened, that Oswaidus,
(mentioned a little before,) king of Northumberland, was then
present, and the same day married Kinigilsus's daughter, and also was
godfather to the king.

Thus Oswald, after he had reigned nine years in such holiness and
perfectness of life as is above specified, was slain at length in the
field called Marfield by wicked Penda, king of the Mercians; which
Penda, at length after all his tyranny, was overcome and slain by
Oswy, brother to Oswald, next king after Oswald of Northumberland,
notwithstanding he had thrice the people which Oswy had. This Penda,
being a panim, had three sons, Wolferus, Weda, and Egfridus. To this
second son Weda Oswy had before time married his daughter, by consent
of Penda his father; the which Weda, by help of Oswy, was made king
of South Mercia, the which lordship is severed from North Mercia by
the river of Trent. The same Weda, moreover, at what time he married
the daughter of Oswy, promised to him that he would become a
Christian man, which thing he performed after the death of Penda his
father; but afterward, within three years of his reign, he was by
reason of his wife slain. And after him the kingdom fell to Wolferus,
the other brother, who, being wedded to Ermenilda, daughter of
Ercombert, king of Kent, was shortly after christened; so that he is
counted the first christened king of Mercia. This Wolferus conquered
Kenwalcus, king of Kent, and got the Isle of Wight, which after he
gave to Sigbert, king of the East Angles, upon condition he would be
christened. And thus the East Angles, which before had expulsed
Melitus their bishop, as is declared, recovered again the christian
faith under Sigbert their king, who, by the means of the foresaid
Wolferus, was reduced and baptized by Finianus the bishop.

But to return again to Oswy, from whom we have a little digressed, of
whom we showed before how he succeeded after Oswald in the province
of Bernicia, to whom also was joined Oswine his cousin, over the
province of Deira, and there, with his fellow Oswy, reigned the space
of seven years. This Oswine was gentle and liberal to his people, and
no less devout toward God; who, upon a time, had given to Aidanus,
the bishop above mentioned, a princely horse, with the trappings, and
all that appertained thereto, because he should not so much travel on
foot, but sometimes ease himself withal. Thus Aidanus, the Scottish
bishop, as he was riding upon his kingly horse, by the way meeteth
him a certain poor man asking and craving his charity. Aidanus,
having nothing else to give him, lighted down, and giveth to him his
horse trapped and gar nished as he was. The king understanding this,
and not contented therewith, as he was entering to dinner with the
said Aidanus, What meant you, father bishop, (said he,) to give away
my horse I gave you unto the beggar? Had not I other horses in my
stable that might have served him well enough, but you must give away
that which of purpose was picked out for you amongst the chiefest? To
whom the bishop made answer again, saying, or rather rebuking the
king, What be these words, O king, (saith he,) that you speak? Why
set you more price by a horse, which is but the foal of a horse, than
you do by him which is the Son of Mary, yea, which is the Son of God?
He said but this, when the king forthwith, ungirding his sword from
about him, (as he was then newly come in from hunting,) falleth down
at the feet of the bishop, desiring him to forgive him that, and he
would never after speak word to him for any treasure he should
afterward give away of his. The bishop seeing the king so meekly
affected, he then taking him up, and cheering him again with words,
began shortly after to weep and to be very heavy. His minister asking
the cause thereof, Aidanus answered in his Scottish language, saying
to him, I weep (saith he) for that this king cannot live long. This
people is not worthy to have such a prince as he is to reign amongst
them. And so as Aidanus said it came to pass. For not long after
Oswy, the king of Bernicia, disdaining at him, when Oswine either was
not able or not willing to join with him in battle, caused him
traitorously to be slain. And so Oswy, with his son Egfride, reigned
in Northumberland alone.

In the time, and also in the house, of this Oswy, king of
Northumberland, was a certain man named Benedict, who was the bringer
up of Bede from his youth, and took him to his institution when he
was but seven years old, and so taught him during his life. This
Benedict, or Benet, descending of a noble stock and rich kin, and in
good favour with Oswy, forsook service, house, and all his kindred to
serve Christ, and went to Rome, (where he had been in his lifetime
five times,) and brought from thence books into monasteries, with
other things which he thought then to serve for devotion. This
Benedict, surnamed Bishop, was the first that brought in the art and
use of glazing into this land, for before that glass windows were not
known either in churches or in houses.

In the reign of the foresaid Oswy, and Egfride his son, was
Botulphus, abbot, which builded in the east part of Lincoln an abbey.
Also Aidanus, Finianus, and Colmannus, with three Scottish bishops of
Northumberland, holy men, held with the Britons against the Romish
order for the keeping of Easter day. Moreover, Cuthbertus,
Jarumannus, Cedda, and Wilfridus lived the same time; whom, as I
judge to be bishops of holy conversation, so I thought it sufficient
here only to name them. As touching their miracles, wherefore they
were made saints in the pope's calendar, seeing they are not written
in the Gospel, nor in my creed, but in certain old chronicles of that
age, so they are no matter of my faith: notwithstanding, as touching
their conversation, this I read, and also do credit, that the clergy,
both of Britain and England, at that time plied nothing that was
worldly, but gave themselves to preaching and teaching the word of
our Saviour, and followed the life that they preached by giving of
good example. And over that, as our histories record, they were so
void of covetousness, that they received no possessions or
territories which were forced upon them.

About this season, or not much before, under the reign of Oswy and
Oswine, kings of Northumberland, another synod or council was holden
against the Britons and the Scottish bishops, for the right observing
of Easter, at Sternhalt. At what time Agilbertus, bishop of West
Saxons, came to Northumberland, to institute Wilfride abbot of Ripon,
where this question for Easter day began to be moved; for Colman,
then bishop of Northumberland, followed not the custom of Rome, nor
of the Saxons, but followed the Britons and the Scottish bishops, his
predecessors in the same see before. Thus on the one side was Colman
the archbishop of York, and Hilda the abbess of Sternhalt, which
alleged for them the doings and examples of their predecessors, both
godly and reverend bishops, as Aidanus, Finianus, archbishops of that
see of York before them, and divers more, who had used always to
celebrate the Easter from the fourteenth day of the first month till
the eight and twentieth of the same. And specially for that St. John
the evangelist at Ephesus kept and observed that day, &c. On the
other side was Agilbert, bishop of the West Saxons, James, the deacon
of Paulinus above mentioned, Wilfride, abbot of Ripon, and King
Aifrid, Oswy's son, with his queen, holding on the same side. The
full contents of which disputation here followeth, according as in
the story of Beda at large is described, with their reasons and
arguments on both sides, as ensueth, &c.

The question of Easter, and of shaving, and other ecclesiastical
matters, being moved, it was determined that in the abbey which is
called Sternhalt, of the which Hilda, a devout woman, was abbess, a
convocation should be had, and this question there determined. To the
which place came both the kings, the father and the son. Bishop
Colman, with his clergy of Scotland, Agilbert, with Agathon and
Wilfride, priests. James and Roman were on their sides; Hilda the
abbess, with her company, were on the Scottish part, and the reverend 
bishop Cedda was appointed prolocutor for both parties in that
parliament. King Oswy began first with an oration, declaring that it
was necessary for such as served one God to live in one uniform
order, and that such as looked for one kingdom in heaven should not
differ in celebration of the heavenly sacraments, but should rather
seek for the true tradition, and follow the same. This said, he
commanded his bishop Colman to declare what the rite and custom was
in this behalf that he used, and from whence it had the original.
Then Colman, obeying his prince's commandment, said, The Easter which
I observe I received of my ancestors that sent me hither a bishop,
the which all our forefathers being men of God did celebrate in like
manner; and lest it should be contemned or despised of any man, it is
manifestly apparent to be the very same which the holy evangelist St.
John (a disciple especially beloved of the Lord) did accustomably use
in all churches and congregations where he had authority. When Colman
had spoken many things to this effect, the king commanded Agilbert to
declare his opinion in this behalf, and to show the order that he
then used, from whence it came, and by what authority he observed the
same. Agilbert requested the king that his scholar Wilfride, a
priest, might speak for him, inasmuch as they both with the rest of
his clergy were of one opinion herein, and that the said Wilfride
could utter his mind better and more plainly in the English tongue
than he himself could. Then Wilfride at the king's commandment began
on this sort, and said, The Easter which we keep we have seen at
Rome, whereat the holy apostles Peter and Paul did live and teach,
did suffer and were buried. The same also is used in Italy and in
France; the which countries we have travelled for learning, and have
noted it to be celebrated of them all. In Asia also and in Africa, in
Egypt and in Greece, and finally in all the world, the same manner of
Easter is ohserved that we use, save only by these here present with
their accomplices, the Picts and the Britons; with the which two (and
yet not altogether agreeing) they condescend and strive foolishly in
this order against the universal world. To whom Colman replied,
saying, I marvel you will call this order foolish, that so great an
apostle as was worthy to lie in the Lord's lap did use, whom all the
world doth well know to have lived most wisely. And Wilfride
answered, God forbid that I should reprove St. John of folly, who
kept the rites of Moses's law according to the letter, (the church
being yet Jewish in many. points,) and the apostles not as yet able
to abdicate all the observations of the law before ordained. As, for
example, they could not reject images invented of the devil, the
which all men that believe on Christ ought of necessity to forsake
and detest, lest they should be an offence to those Jews that were
amongst the Gentiles. For this cause did St. Paul circumcise Timothy,
for this cause did he sacrifice in the temple, and did shave his head
with Aquila and Priscilla at Corinth; all which things were done to
none other purpose than to eschew the offence of the Jews. Hereupon
also said James to Paul, Thou seest, brother, how many thousand Jews
do believe, and all these be zealous (notwithstanding) of the law.
Yet seeing the gospel is so manifestly preached in the world, it is
not lawful for the faithful to be circumcised, neither to offer
sacrifice of carnal things to God. Therefore John, according to the
custom of the law, the fourteenth day of the first month at evening,
did begin the celebration of the feast of Easter, nothing respecting
whether it were celebrated in the sabbath or in any other ferial day.
But Peter, when he preached at Rome, remembering that the Lord did
arise from death on the first day after the sabbath, giving thereby a
hope to the world of the resurrection, thought good to institute
Easter on that day, and not after the use and precepts of the law,
(that was,) the fourteenth day of the first month; even so John,
looking for the moon at night, if it did arise, and the next day
after were Sunday, which then was called the sabbath, then did he
celebrate the Easter of the Lord in the evening, like as we use to do
even at this day. But if Sunday were not the next day after the
fourteenth day, but fell on the sixteenth day, or seventeenth, or on
any other day unto the one and twentieth, he tarried always for it,
and did begin the holy solemnity of Easter on the evening next before
the sabbath. And so it came to pass, that Easter was always kept on
the Sunday, and was not celebrated but from the fifteenth day unto
the one and twentieth: neither doth this tradition of this apostle
break the law, but fulfil the same. In the which it is to be noted,
that Easter was instituted from the fourteenth day of the first month
at evening, unto the one and twentieth day of the same month at
evening; the which manner all St. John's successors in Asia after his
death did follow, and the catholic church throughout the whole world.
And that this is the true Easter, and only of all Christians to be
observed, it was not newly decreed, but confirmed by the Council of
Nice, as appeareth by the ecclesiastical history. Whereupon it is
manifest that you (Colman) do neither follow the example of St. John,
as ye think, nor of St. Peter, whose tradition you do willingly
resist, nor of the church, nor yet of the gospel, in the celebration
of Easter. For St. John, observing Easter according to the precepts
of the law, kept it not on the first day after the sabbath; but you
precisely keep it only on the first day after the sabbath. Peter did
celebrate Easter from the fifteenth day of the moon to the one and
twentieth day, but you keep Easter from the fourteenth unto the
twentieth day; so that you begin Easter oftentimes the thirteenth day
at night, of which manner neither the law nor the gospel maketh any
mention. But the Lord in the fourteenth day either did eat the old
passover at night, or else did celebrate the sacraments of the New
Testament in the remembrance of his death and passion. You do also
utterly reject from the celebration of Easter the one and twentieth
day, the which the law hath chiefly willed to be observed; and
therefore, as I said, in the keeping of Easter, you neither agree
with St. John, nor with Peter, nor with the law, nor yet with the
gospel. Then Colman again answered to these things; saying, Did then
Anatholius, a godly man, and one much commended in the foresaid
ecclesiastical story, against the law and the gospel, who writeth
that the Easter was to be kept from the fourteenth day unto the
twentieth? Or shall we think that Columba, our reverend father, and
his successors, being men of God, who observed the Easter after this
manner, thd against the Holy Scripture? whereas some of them were men
of such godliness and virtue, as was declared by their wonderful
miracles. And I hereby (nothing doubting of their holiness) do
endeavour to follow their life, order, and discipline. Then said
Wilfride, It is certain that Anatholius was both a godly man, and
worthy of great com mendation; but what have you to do with him,
seeing you observe not his order? For he, following the true rule in
keeping his Easter, observeth the circle of nineteen years; the which
either you know not, or, if you do, you contemn the common order
observed in the universal church of Christ. And, moreover, the said
Anatholius doth so count the fourteenth day in the observation of
Easter, as he confesseth the same to be the fifteenth day at night,
after the manner of the Egyptians, and likewise noteth the twentieth
day to be in the feast of Easter the one and twentieth in. the
evening; the which distinction that you know not by this may appear,
for that you keep the Easter on the thirteenth day before the full
moon. Or otherwise I can answer you touching your father Columba and
his successors, whose order you say you follow, moved thereto by
their miracles, on this wise; that the Lord will answer to many that
shall say in the day of judgment, that in his name they have
prophesied, and cast out devils, and have done many miracles, &c.,
that he never knew them. But God forbid that I should say so of your
fathers, because it is much better to believe well of those we know
not than ill. Whereupon I deny not but they were the servants of God,
and holy men, which loved the Lord of a good intent, though of a rude
simplicity; and I think that the order which they used in the Easter
did not much hurt them, so long as they had none amongst them that
could show them the right observation of the same for them to follow.
For I think, if the truth had been declared unto them, they would as
well have received it in this matter as they did in others. But you
and your fellows, if you refuse the order of the apostolical see, or
rather of the universal church, which is confirmed by the Holy
Scripture, without all doubt you do sin. And though your forefathers
were holy men, what is their fewness, being but a corner of an
island, to be preferred before the universal church of Jesus Christ
dispersed throughout the whole world? And if Columba your father (and
ours also, being of Christ Jesus) were mighty in miracles, is he
therefore to be preferred before the prince of the holy apostles? to
whom the Lord said, Thou art Peter, and upon this rock will I build
my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it; and I
will give thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven.

Wilfride having thus ended his argument, the king said to Colman, Is
it true that the Lord spake these things to St. Peter? And Colman
answered, Yea. Then said the king, Can you declare any thing that the
Lord gave to Colman? Colman answered, No. Then quoth the king, Do
both of you agree and consent in this matter Without any controversy,
that these words were principally spoken to Peter, and that the Lord
gave him the keys of the kingdom of heaven? And they both answered,
Yea. Then concluded the king on this wise: Forsomuch as St. Peter is
the door-keeper of heaven, I will not gainsay him; but in that I am
able I will obey his orders in every point, lest when I come to the
gates of heaven, he shut them against me.

Upon this simple and rude reason of the king the multitude eftsoons
consented, and with them also Cedda was contented to give over; only
Colman the Scot, being then archbishop of York, in displeasure left
the realm, and departed into Scotland, carrying with him the bones of
Aidanus. And thus much concerning this matter of Easter.

After the decease of Oswy, Egfride his son was king after him in
Northumberland fifteen years. By this Egfride Cuthbert was promoted
to the bishopric of the Isle of Farne; and Wilfride, which before had
been archbishop of York, was displaced through the means of Theodore,
archbishop of Canterbury, and Cedda possessed that see. Wilfride,
when he was put out, went to Rome, and complained of him to Agathon
the bishop, and was well allowed in some things. But the king and
Theodorus had there such proctors and friends, that he returned
without speeding of his cause. Wherefore he returned into the South
Saxons, and builded an abbey in Sileseie, and preached unto the South
Saxons fifteen years. The king of the South Saxons at that time was
Ethelwold, to whom we declared a little before that Wolferus, king of
the Mercians, gave the Isle of Wight, upon condition that he would be
christened, and so was baptized by Berinus; the said Wolferus being
his godfather and son-in-law both in one day. Wherefore Wolferus, now
being licensed by Ethelwold the king, preached unto his nobles and
people of Southsax, and converted them to Christ. In the time of
whose baptizing the rain, which before they lacked three years
together, was given them plentifully, whereby their great famine
slacked, and the country was made fruitful, which before was dried up
with barrenness; insomuch that (as in some stories it is said) the
people, penured with famine, would go forty together upon the rocks
by the sea-side, and, taking hands together, would throw themselves
down to the sea. Moreover, where they lacked before the art of
fishing, the foresaid Wilfride taught them how with nets to fish.

And thus by process have we discoursed from time to time how and by
what means the idolatrous people were induced to the true faith of
Christ; of whom the South Saxons with the Isle of Wight were the
last.



21. FROM THE CONVERSION OF THE SAXONS TO THE COMING OF THE DANES

After Egfride, who was slain in the Straits of Scotland, next
succeeded Alfride his brother, and bastard son to Oswy, and reigned
eighteen or nineteen years in Northumberland. This Alfride restored
again the foresaid Wilfride to the see of York, whom his brother had
before expelled, and put in Cedda. Notwithstanding the same king,
within five years after, expulsed the said Wilfride again, and so
went he to Rome. But at length by Osricke, his successor, was placed
again the archbishop of York, and Cedda was ordained by Theodorus,
bishop of Mercia. The which province of Mercia the said Theodorus,
archbishop of Canterbury, by the authority of the synod holden at
Hatfield, did after divide into five bishoprics; that is, one to
Chester, the second to Worcester, the third to Lichfield, the fourth
to Cederna in Lindsey, the fifth to Dorchester, which was after
translated to Lincoln.

Near about this time, in the year of our Lord 666, the detestable
sect of Mahumet began to take strength and place. Although
Polychronicon, differing a little in years, accounteth the beginning
of this sect somewhat before, but the most diligent searchers of them
which write now refer it to this year. Of this Mahomet came the
kingdom of Agarens, (whom he after named Saracens,) to whom he gave
sundry laws, patched of many sects and religions together: he taught
them to pray ever to the south; and as we keep the Sunday, so they
keep the Friday, which they call the day of Venus. He permitted them
to have as many wives as they were able to maintain; to have as many
concubines as they list; to abstain from the use of wine, except on
certain solemn days in the year; to have and worship only one God
omnipotent, saying that Moses and the prophets were great men, but
Christ was greater, and greatest of all the prophets, as being born
of the virgin Mary by the power of God, without man's seed, and at
last was taken up to heaven, but was not slain, but another in his
likeness for him, with many other wicked blasphemies in his law
contained. At length this kingdom of the Saracens began to be
conquered of the Turks, and in process of time wholly subdued to
them.

But now to return again to the time of our English Saxons. In this
mean season Theodorus was sent from Italy into England, by
Vitellianus the pope, to be archbishop of Canterbury, and with him
divers other monks of Italy, to set up here in England Latin service,
masses, ceremonies, litanies, with such other Romish ware, &c. This
Theodorus, being made archbishop and metropolitan of Canterbury,
began to play the tyrant, placing and displacing the bishops at his
pleasure. As for Cedda and Wilfride, archbishops of York, he thrust
them both out, under the pretence that they were not lawfully
consecrated, notwithstanding they were sufficiently authorized by
their kings, and were placed against their wills. Wherefore Wilfride,
as is before touched, went up to Rome, but could have no redress of
his cause. Yet to show what modesty this Wilfride used against his
enemy, being so violently molested as he was, because the words of
his complaint are expressed in William Malmesbury, I thought here to
express the same, both for the commendation of the party, and also
for the good example of others, in case any such be whom good
examples will move to well-doing. This Wilfride therefore, having
such injury and violence offered unto him by the hands of Theodore,
although he had just cause to do his uttermost, yet, in prosecuting
his complaint, how he tempered himself, what words of modesty he
used, rather to defend his innocency, than to impugn his adversary,
by this his suggestion offered up to the bishop of Rome may appear,
whose words in effect were these: How it chanceth that Theodorus, the
most holy and reverend archbishop, (myself being alive in the see,
which I, though unworthy, did rule and dispose,) hath of his own
authority, without the consent of any bishop, (neither having my
simple voice agreeing to the same,) ordained three bishops, I had
rather pass over in silence than to stir any further therein, be
cause of the reverence of that man, and no less thought I it my duty
so to do. The which man, for that he hath been directed by this see
apostolical, I will not, nor dare not, here accuse, &c. Thus the
cause of the said Wilfride, albeit it was sufficiently known in the
court of Rome to be well allowed for just and innocent, yet it was
not then redressed; in such estimation was this Theodorus then among
the Romans. Upon this controversy of these two bishops I may well
here infer the words of William Malmesbury, not unworthy in my mind
to be noted, which be these in this Latin story: that is, In the
which Theodore (saith he) the weak and miserable infirmity of man may
be seen, and also lamented; considering, that although a man be never
so holy, yet in the same man is something whereby it may be perceived
that he hath not utterly put off all his stubborn conditions, &c.

In the time of this Theodorus, and by the means of him, a provincial
synod was holden at Thetford, mentioned in the story of Bede; the
principal contents whereof were these

First, That Easter day should be uniformly kept and observed through
the whole realm upon one certain day, videlicet prima, 14. Luna
mensis primi.

Secondly, That no bishop should intermeddle within the diocess of
another.

Thirdly, That monasteries consecrated unto God should be exempt and
free from the jurisdiction of the bishops.

Fourthly, That the monks should not stray from one place, that is,
from one monastery to another, without the licence of their abbot;
also to keep the same obedience which they promised at their first
entering.

Fifthly, That no clergyman should forsake his own bishop, and be
received in any other place, without letters commendatory of his own
bishop.

Sixthly, That foreign bishops and clergymen coming into the realm
should be content only with the benefit of such hospitality as should
be offered them; neither should intermeddle any further with in the
precinct of any bishop without his special permission.

Seventhly, That synods provincial should be kept within the realm at
least once a year.

Eighthly, That no bishop should prefer himself before another, but
must observe the time and order of his consecration.

Ninthly, That the number of bishops should be augmented as the number
of the people increaseth.

Tenthly, That no marriage should be admitted but that which was
lawful;, no incest to be suffered; neither any man to put away his
wife for any cause except only for fornication, after the rule of the
gospel. And these be the principal chapters of that synod, &c.

In the next year following was the first general council kept at
Constance, whereat this Theodore was also present under Pope Agatho,
where marriage was permitted to Greek priests, and forbidden to the
Latin. In this council the Latin mass was first openly said by John
Portuensis, the pope's legate, before the patriarch and princes at
Constantinople, in the temple of St. Sophie.

After the decease of Alfrid, king of Northumberland, (from whom it
was digressed,) succeeded his son Osredus, reigning eleven years;
after whom reigned Kenredus two years, and next Osricus after him
eleven years.

In the time and reign of these four kings of Northumberland, King Jua
or Juas reigned in Westsat, who, succeeding after Cadwallader, the
last king of Britons, began his reign about the year of our Lord 689,
and reigned with great valiantness over the West Saxons the term of
thirty-seven years. Concerning whose acts and wars maintained against
the Kentish Saxons and other kings, because I have not to intermeddle
withal, I refer the reader to other chroniclers.

About the sixth year of the reign of this Jua, or Jue, Polychronicon
and other make mention of one Cuthlacus, whom they call St. Cuthlake,
a confessor, who about the four and twentieth year of his age,
renouncing the pomp of the world, professed himself a monk in the
abbey of Repingdon, and the third year after went to Crowland, where
he led the life of an anchorite. In the which isle and place of his
burying was builded a fair abbey, called afterward, for the great
resort and gentle entertainment of strangers, Crowland the courteous.
But why this Cuthlake should be. sainted for his doings I see no
great cause, as neither do I think the fabulous miracles reported of
him to be true; as where the vulgar people are made to believe that
he enclosed the devil in a boiling pot, and caused wicked spirits to
erect up houses, with such other fables and lying miracles. Among
which lying miracles also may be reckoned that which the stories
mention in the eleventh year of the reign of Jua, to be done of one
Brithwald, or Brithelme, who, being dead a long season, was restored
to life again, and told many wonders of strange things that he had
seen, causing thereby great alms and deeds of charity to be done of
the people; and so he, disposing of his goods given in three parts,
went to the abbey of Mailroos, where he continued the rest of his
life.

Moreover, about the sixteenth year of the said Jua, Etheldred, king
of Mercia, after he had there reigned thirty years, was made a monk,
and after abbot of Bardney.

And about the eighteenth year of the reign of Jue died the worthy and
learned bishop Adelmus, first abbot of Malmesbury, afterwards bishop
of Schirborne, of whom William Malmesbury writeth plenteously with
great commendation, and that not unworthily, as I suppose; especially
for the notable praise of learning and virtue in him above the rest
of that time, (next after Bede,) as the great number of books and
epistles, with poems, by him set forth will declare. Although
concerning the miracles which the said author ascribeth to him: as,
first, in causing an infant of nine days old to speak at Rome, to
declare Pope Sergius, which was then suspected, the father of the
said child; also in hanging his cassock upon the sunbeams; item, in
making whole the altar stone of marble brought from Rome; item, in
drawing a length one of the timber pieces, which went to the building
of the temple in Malmesbury; item, in saving the mariners at Dover,
&c: as concerning these and such other miracles, which William
Malmesbury to him attributeth, I cannot consent to him therein; but
think rather the same to be monkish devices, forged upon their
patrons to maintain the dignity of their houses. And as the author
was deceived (no doubt) in believing such fables himself, so may he
likewise deceive us through the dexterity of his style and fine
handling of the matter, but that further experience hath taught the
world now-a-days more wisdom in not believing such practices. This
Adelmus was bishop of Schirborne, which see after was united to the
see of Winton. In which church of Winchester the like miracles also
are to be read of Bishop Adelwold and St. Swithin, whom they have
canonized likewise for a saint.

St. John of Beverley, which was then bishop of York, died and was
buried at the porch of the minster of Deirwood or Beverley. In the
which porch it is recorded in some chronicles, that as the said John
upon a time was praying, being in the porch of St. Michael in York,
the Holy Ghost, in the similitude of a dove, sat before him upon the
altar, in brightness shining above the sun. This brightness being
seen of others, first cometh one of his deacons running unto the
porch, who, beholding the bishop there standing in his prayers, and
all the place replenished with the Holy Ghost, was stricken with the
light thereof, having all his face burnt, as it were, with hot
burning fire. Notwithstanding, the bishop by and by cured the face of
his deacon again, charging them (as the story saith) not to publish
what he had seen during his lifetime, &c. Which tale seemeth as true
as that we read about the same time done of St. Egwine, in
Polychron., abbot of Eusham, and bishop of Worcester, (then called
Wicts,) who, upon a time, when he had fettered both his feet in irons
fast locked for certain sins done in his youth, and had cast the key
thereof into the sea, afterward a fish brought the key again into the
ship, as he was sailing homeward from Rome.

But to leave these monkish fantasies, and return to the right course
again of the story. In the time of this foresaid Jua began first the
right observing of Easter day to be kept of the Picts and of the
Britons. In the observation of which day (as is largely set forth in
Bede and Polychronicon) three things are necessary to be observed:
first, the full moon of the first month, that is, of the month of
March; secondly, the dominical letter; thirdly, the equinoctial day,
which equinoctial was wont to be counted in the East church, and
especially among the Egyptians, to be about the seventeenth day of
March. So that the full moon, either on the equinoctial day, or after
the equinoctial day being observed, the next dominical day following
that full moon is to be taken for Easter day. Wherein are diligently
to be noted two things: first, the fulness of the moon must be
perfectly full, so that it be the beginning of the third week of the
moon, which is the fourteenth or fifteenth day of the moon; secondly,
it is to be noted, that the said perfect fulness of the moon,
beginning the third week, must happen either in the very evening of
the equinoctial day, or after the equinoctial day; for else if it
happen either on the equinoctial day before the evening, or before
the equinoctial day, then it belongeth to the last month of the last
year, and not to the first month of the first year, and so serveth
not to be observed.

This rite and usage in keeping Easter day being received in the Latin
church, began now to take place among the Picts and Britons, through
the busy travail of Theodorus Cuthlacus, but namely of Elbert the
holy monk, as they term him, and of Colfrid, abbot of Sirwin in
Northumberland, which wrote to Narcanus, or Naitonus, the king of
Picts, concerning the same; who also, among other things, writeth of
the shaven crowns of priests, saying that it was as necessary for the
vow of a monk, or the degree of a priest, to have a shaven crown for
restraint of their lust, as for any Christian man to bless him
against spirits when they come upon him. The copy of which letter, as
it is in Beda, I have here annexed, not for any great reason therein
contained, but only to delight the reader with some pastime, in
seeing the fond ignorance of that monkish age: the copy of the letter
thus proceeded.

"Concerning the shaving of priests, (whereof you writ also unto me,)
I exhort you that it be decently observed, according to the Christian
faith. We are not ignorant that the apostles were not all shaven
after one manner, neither doth the Catholic church at this day agree
in one uniform manner of shaving, as they do in faith, hope, and
charity. Let us consider the former time of the patriarchs, and we
shall find that Job, (an example of patience,) even in the very point
of his afflictions, did shave his head; and he proveth, also, that in
the time of his prosperity he used to let his hair grow. And Joseph,
an excellent doctor and executor of chastity, humility, piety, and
other virtues, when he was delivered out of prison and servitude, was
shaven; whereby it appeareth that whilst he abode in prison he was
unshaven. Behold, both these, being men of God, did use an order in
the habit of their body one contrary to the other, whose consciences
notwithstanding within did well agree in the like grace of virtues.
But, to speak truly and freely, the difference of shaving hurteth not
such as have a pure faith in the Lord, and sincere charity towards
their neighbour; especially for that there was never any controversy
amongst the catholic fathers about the diversity thereof, as there
hath been of the difference of the celebration of Easter and of
faith. But of all these shavings that we find, either in the church
or elsewhere, there is none in mine opinion so much to be followed
and embraced as that which he used on his head, to whom the Lord
said, Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and
the gates of hell shall not prevail against it; and I will give thee
the keys of the kingdom of heaven. And, contrariwise, there is no
shaving so much to be abhorred and detested, as that which he used to
whom the same St. Peter said, Thy money be with thee to thy
destruction, because thou thinkest to possess the gift of God by thy
money; therefore thy part and lot is not in this word. Neither ought
we to be shaven on the crown only, because St. Peter was so shaven,
but because Peter was so shaven in remembrance of the Lord's passion;
therefore we that desire by the same passion to be saved must wear
the sign of the same passion with him upon the top of our head, which
is the highest part of our body. For as every church that is made a
church by the death of the Saviour doth use to bear the sign of the
holy cross in the front, that it may the better by the defence of
that banner be kept from the invasions of evil spirits, and by the
often admonition thereof is taught to crucify the flesh with the
concupiscence of the same; in like manner it behoveth such as have
the vows of monks, and degrees of the clergy, to bind themselves with
a stricter bit of continency for the Lord's sake. And as the Lord
bare a crown of thorns on his head in his passion, whereby he took
and carried away from us the thorns and pricks of our sins; so must
every one of us, by shaving our heads, patiently bear and willingly
suffer the mocks and scorns of the world for his sake, that we may
receive the crown of eternal life, which God hath promised to all
that love him, and shall, by shaving their corporal crowns, bear the
adversity and contemn the prosperity of this world. But the shaving
which Simon Magus used, what faithful man doth not detest, together
with his magical art? The which at the first appearance hath a show
of a shaven crown, but if you mark his neck, you shall find it
curtailed in such wise, as you will say it is rather meet to be used
of the Simonists than of the Christians. And such (of foolish men) be
thought worthy of the glory of the eternal crown; whereas indeed, for
their ill living, they are worthy not only to be deprived of the
same, but also of eternal salvation. I speak not this against them
that use this kind of shaving, and live catholicly in faith and good
works, but surely I believe there be divers of them be very holy and
godly men; amongst the which is Adamnan the abbot and worthy priest
of the Columbians; who, when he came ambassador from his country unto
King Alfride, desired greatly to see our monastery, where he declared
a wonderful wisdom, humility, and religion, both in his manners and
words. Amongst other talk, I asked him why he that did believe to
come to the crown of life that should never have end, did use,
contrary to his belief, a definite image of a crown on his head? And
if you seek (quoth I) the fellowship of St. Peter, why do you use the
fashion of his crown whom St. Peter did accurse, and not of his
rather with whom you desire to live eternally? Adamnan answered,
saying, You know right well, brother, though I use Simon's manner of
shaving, after the custom of my country, yet do I detest and with all
my heart abhor his infidelity. I desire notwithstanding to imitate
the footsteps of the holy apostle as far forth as my power will
extend. Then said I, I believe it is so; but then it is apparent you
imitate those things which the apostle Peter did from the bottom of
your heart, if you use the same upon your face that you know he did;
for I suppose your wisdom understandeth that it is right decent to
differ in the trimming your face or shaving from his whom in your
heart you abhor. And, contrariwise, as you desire to imitate the
doings of him whom you desire to have a mediator between God and you,
so it is meet you imitate the manner of his apparel and shaving. Thus
much said I to Adamnan, who seemed then well to like our churches;
insomuch that he, returning into Scotland, reformed many of his
churches there after our celebration, albeit he could not do so
amongst the monks, with whom he had special authority. He endeavoured
also to have reformed their manner of shaving, if he had been able.
And now, O king, I exhort your Majesty to labour together with your
people, over whom the King of kings and Lord of lords hath made you
governor, to imitate likewise in all these points the catholic and
apostolical churches. So shall it come to pass, that in the end of
this your temporal kingdom, the most blessed prince of the apostles
shall open you the gates of the heavenly kingdom, together with the
other elect of God. The grace of the eternal King preserve you, most
dearly beloved son in Christ, long time to reign over us, to the
great tranquillity of us all."

When this letter was read before King Naiton, with other of his
learned men, and diligently translated into his proper language, he
seemed to rejoice very much at the exhortation thereof, insomuch as,
rising up from among his noblemen, he kneeled on the ground, and gave
God thanks that he had deserved to receive so worthy a present out of
England, and so caused it forthwith by public proclamation to be
written out, learned, and observed throughout all the province of the
Picts, defacing the errors that had been used there by the space of
seven hundred and four years. For all the ministers of the altar and
all monks were shaven on the crown, and all the people rejoiced for
the new discipline of the most blessed prince of the apostles St.
Peter, which they had received.

By this monkish letter above prefixed, void of all Scripture, of all
probation and truth of history, thou mayst note, gentle reader, how
this vain tradition of shaven crowns hath come up, and upon how light
and trifling occasion; which in very deed was none other but the
dreaming fantasies of monks of that time, falsely grounded upon the
example of Peter, when by no old monument of any ancient record they
can ever prove either Peter or Simon Magus to have been shaven.
Moreover, in the said letter also is to be noted, how the Scottish
clergy at that season did wear no such priestiy crowns as our English
churchmen then did.

But to cut off this matter of shaving, more worthy to be laughed at
than to be storied, let us now again return to the place at which we
left King Jue, of whom William Malmesbury and Fabian in his chronicle
do record, that when the foresaid Jue had ruled the West Saxons by
the term of thirty-seven years, by the importunate persuasion and
subtle policy of his wife Ethelburga, he was allured to go to Rome,
there to be made a monk. Which Ethelburga, after she had a long time
laboured him to leave the world, and could not bring about her
purpose, upon a season, when the king and she had rested them in a
fair palace richly behanged, and were upon the years (sic). After
whose departing the said Ethelburga his wife went unto Barking, seven
miles from London, where in the nunnery of Barking, before of
Erkenwald founded, she continued and ended the rest of her life, when
she had been abbess of the piace a certain time.
(Illustration: A procession )

Next unto the foresaid Osricus followed Celulfus, whom he had
adopted, brother to Kenred above specified. This Celulfus, as he was
himself learned, so were in his time divers learned men then
flourishing in England, among whom was Beda, who unto the same King
Celulfus offered his story, entitled The History of the English, not
only to be ratified by his authority, but also to be amended by his
knowledge and learning.

In the latter end of his Ecclesiastical History of England, this Beda
testifieth of himself: "Thus much (by the help of God) I Beda, the
servant of Christ, and priest of the monastery of Peter and Paul at
Wire, have compiled and digested concerning the British history."
And, proceeding further in this narration, declareth that he, being
born in the territory of the said monastery, being of the age of
seven years, was committed of his parents and friends to the tuition
and education of Benedict, (of whom above relation is made,) and of
Celfrid, abbots of the foresaid monastery. In the which place or
monastery he continuing from that time forth all his life long, gave
himself and all his whole study to the meditating of Holy Scripture.
About nineteen years of his age he was made deacon, the thirtieth
year of his age he was made priest. From the which time, to the age
of nine and fifty years, he occupied himself in interpreting the
works of the an cient fathers for his own use, and the necessity of
others, and in writing of treatises, which came in all to the number
of seven and thirty volumes, which he digested into threescore and
eighteen books.

Some say that he went to Rome, either there to defend his books to be
consonant to catholic doctrine; or else, if they should be found
faulty, to amend and correct the same, as he should thereto be
commanded. Albeit the reporter of this his life dare not certainly
affirm that ever he was at Rome; but that he was invited and called
thither to come, this epistle of Pope Sergius doth sufficiently
prove; declaring, moreover, in what price and estimation Beda was
accepted, as well in the court of Rome as in other places besides.

So notable and famous was the learning of this foresaid Beda, that
the church of Rome (as by this letter appeareth) both stood in need
of his help, and also required the same, about the discussing of
certain causes and controversies appertaining to learning. Moreover,
the whole Latin church at that time gave him the mastery in judgment
and knowledge of the Holy Scriptures. In all his explanations, his
chiefest scope and purpose did ever drive to instruct and inform his
reader, simply, and without all curiousness of style, in the sincere
love of God and of his neighbour. As touching the holiness and
integrity of his life, it is not to be doubted. For how could it be
that he should attend to any vicious idleness, or had any leisure to
the same, who, in reading and digesting so many volumes, consumed all
his whole cogitations in writing upon the Scriptures? for so he
testifieth of himself in the Third Book of Samuel, saying in these
words, "If my treatises and expositions (saith he) bring with them no
other utility to the readers thereof, yet to myself they conduce not
a little thus, that while all my study and cogitation was set upon
them, in the mean while of slippery enticements and vain cogitations
of this world I had little mind." Thus in this travail of study he
continued till the age of sixty-two years: at length, drawing to his
latter end, being sick seven weeks together, besides other occupyings
of his mind, and other studies which he did not intermit, he
translated also the Gospel of St. John into English. At length, with
great comfort of spirit, he departed this life, pronouncing many com
fortable sayings to them that stood about him, upon Ascension day,
the same year when Nothelinus was instituted archbishop of
Canterbury. And thus much concerning the story of Beda.

This Celulfus, king of Northumberland, aforementioned, after he had
reigned eight years, was made a monk in the abbey of Farne, otherwise
called Lindefar, or Holy Island; where, by his means, licence was
given to the monks of that house to drink wine or ale, which before,
by the institution of Aidanus above mentioned, drunk nothing but milk
and water. After whom succeeded Egbert his cousin, brother to Egbert
(the same time being bishop of York) which brought again thither the
pall that his predecessors had given up, since the time that Paulinus
had left the see, and fled to Rochester, as is before declared. The
said Egbert also erected a noble library in York, whose example I 
wish other bishops now would follow.

About the beginning of the reign of this Egbert was Cuthbert,
archbishop of Canterbury, who collected a great synod of bishops and
prelates, in the year of our Lord 747, in the month of September,
near to the place called Clonesho. In the which synod assembled these
decrees were enacted.

1. That bishops should be more diligent in seeing to their office,
and in admonishing the people of their faults.

2. That they should live in a peaceable mind together,
notwithstanding they were in place dissevered asunder.

3. That every bishop once a year should go about all the parishes of
his diocess.

4. That the said bishops every one in his diocess should monish their
abbots and monks to live regularly; and that prelates should not
oppress their inferiors, but love them.

5. That they should teach the monasteries which the secular men had
invaded, and could not then be taken from them, to live regularly.

6. That none should be admitted to orders before his life should be
examined.

7. That in monasteries the reading of Holy Scripture should be more
frequented.

8. That priests should be no disposers of secular business.

9. That they should take no money for baptizing infants.

10. That they should both learn and teach the Lord's Prayer and Creed
in the English tongue.

11. That all should join together in their ministry after one uniform
rite and manner.

12. That in a modest voice they should sing in the church.

13. That all holy and festival days should be celebrated at one time
together.

14. That the sabbath day be reverently observed and kept.

15. That the seven hours canonical every day be observed.

16. That the rogation days, both the greater and lesser, should not
be omitted.

17. That the feast of St. Gregory, and St. Austin our patron, should
not be omitted.

18. That the fast of the four times should be kept and observed.

19. That monks and nuns should go regularly apparelled.

20. That bishops should see their decrees not to be neglected.

21. That the churchmen should not give themselves unto drunkenness.

22. That the communion should not be neglected of the churchmen.

23. Item, that the same also should be observed of laymen, as time
required.

24. That laymen first should be well tried before they entered into
monkery.

25. That alms be not neglected.

26. That bishops should see these decrees to be notified to the
people.

27. They disputed of the profit of alms.

28. They disputed of the profit of singing psalms.

29. That the congregation should be constitute after the ability of
their goods.

30. That monks should not dwell among laymen.

31. That public prayer should be made for kings and princes.

These decrees and ordinances, being thus among the bishops concluded,
Cuthbert the archbishop sendeth the copy thereof to Boniface, which
Boniface, otherwise named Winfride, an Englishman born, was then
archbishop of Mentz, and after made a martyr, as the popish stories
term him.

This Boniface being, as is said, archbishop of Mentz in the time of
this foresaid synod, wrote a letter to Ethelbald, king of Merceland;
which Ethelbald was also present in the same synod, of whom Beth
maketh mention in his History, calling him proud Ethelbald, and the
greatest of the Saxon kings in his time. First, this Ethelbald, after
the departing of Celulfe into his monkery, invaded and spoiled the
country of Northumberland. Moreover, he exercised mortal and horrible
war a long space with Cudred, otherwise of some named Cuthbert, king
of West Saxons. Furthermore, he with other Saxon kings so impugned
the Britons, that from that time they never durst provoke the Saxons
any more. At length the said Cudred, refusing the intolerable
exactions of proud Ethelbald, doth encounter with him in battle;
where, notwithstanding the great power that Ethelbald had to him
adjoined, of the Mercians, of the East Saxons, of the East Angles,
and of the Cantuarites; yet the said Cudred, through God's power, and
the means of a certain valiant warrior, called Edelhim, a consul,
overthrew the pride of Ethelbald, after a sore and terrible conflict.
Which Ethelbald, notwithstanding, repairing his power again the next
year after, renewed battle with the foresaid Cudred; in the which
battle Ethelbald (after he had reigned one and forty years in Mercia)
was slain by one Beornered, who after reigned in that part but a
small time. For Offa, nephew to the said Ethelbald, expelled the said
Beornered, and succeeded king in that province of Mercia, where he
reigned nine and thirty years, of whom more followeth hereafter (the
Lord Jesus speeding therein our purpose) to be declared, as place and
time shall require. In the mean season, not to forget the letter
before mentioned of Boniface, archbishop of Mentz, sent unto this
Ethelbald, I thought the same not unworthy to be here inserted (at
the least the effect thereof).

In this epistle is to be seen and noted, first, the corruption and
great disorder of life which alway, from time to time, hath been
found in these religious houses of nuns, whose professed vow of
coacted chastity hath yet never been good to the church, nor
profitable to the commonwealth, and least of all to themselves. Of
such young and wanton widows St. Paul in his time complaineth, 1 Tim.
v., which would take upon them the wilful profession of single life,
which they were not able to perform, but, falling into damnable
luxury, deserved worthily to be reprehended. How much better had it
been for these lascivious nuns not to have refused the safe yoke of
Christian matrimony, than to entangle themselves in this their
superstitious vow of perpetual maidenhood, which neither was required
of them, nor they were able to keep!

Secondly, no less are they also to be reprehended which maintained
these superstitious orders of unprofitable nuns and of other
religions. In the number of whom was this foresaid Boniface,
otherwise called Winfride, who, although in this epistle he doth
justly reprehend the vicious enormities both of secular and of
religious persons; yet he himself is not without the same, or rather
greater, reprehension, for that he gave the occasion thereof in
maintaining such superstitious orders of such lascivious nuns and
other religions, and restraining the same from lawful marriage. For
so we find of him in stories, that he was a great setter up and
upholder of such blind superstition, and of all popery. Who, being
admitted by Pope Gregory the Second, archbishop of Magunce, and
endued with full authority legantine over the Germans, brought divers
countries there under the pope's obedience, held many great councils,
ordained bishops, builded monasteries, canonized saints, commanded
relics to be worshipped, permitted religious fathers to carry about
nuns with them a-preaching. Amongst all other, he founded the great
monastery of Fulda, in Germany, of English monks, into the which no
women might enter, but only Lieba and Tecla, two English nuns. Item,
by the authority of the said Archbishop Boniface, which he received
from Pope Zachary, Childericus, king of France, was deposed from the
right of his crown, and Pipinus, betrayer of his master, was
confirmed, or rather intruded in. From this Boniface proceeded that
detestable doctrine which now standeth registered in the pope's
decrees. Which in a certain epistle of his is this; that in case the
pope were of most filthy living, and forgetful or negligent of
himself, and of the whole Christianity, in such sort that he led
innumerable souls with him to hell; yet ought there no man to rebuke
him in so doing, for he hath (saith he) power to judge all men, and
ought of no man to be judged again.

In the time of this archbishop, Pope Gregory the Second, also Gregory
the Third, and Pope Zachary, and before these also Pope Constantine
the First, wrought great masteries against the Greek emperors,
Philippicus and Leo, and others, for the maintaming of images to be
set up in churches. Of whom Philippicus lost both his empire and also
his eyes. Leo, for the same cause likewise, was excommunicate of
Gregory the Third. This Gregory the Third (so far as I can
conjecture) was he that first wrote the four books of dialogues in
Greek, falsely bearing the name of Gregory the First, which books
afterward Zachary his successor translated out of Greek into Latin.
Item, the said Gregory the Third first brought into the mass canon
the clause for relics, beginning, Quorum solennitates hodie in
conspectu, &c. Item, brought into the said canon the memorial, the
offering and sacrifice for the dead; like as Zachary brought in the
priest's vesture and ornaments, and as the foresaid Constantine also
was the first that gave his feet to be kissed of the emperors. But to
turn again into the course of our English story.

In the time of this Egbert, king of Northumberland, Sigebert, or
Sigbert, reigned in West Saxony, a man of so cruel tyranny to his
subjects, (turning the laws and customs of His forefathers after his
own will and pleasure,) that when he was somewhat sharply advertised
by one of his nobles, an earl, called Combranus, to change his
manners, and to behave himself more prudently toward his people, he
therefore maliciously caused him to be put to cruel death. Whereupon
the said King Sigebert, continuing his cruel conditions, by his
subjects conspiring against him, was put from his kingly dignity, and
brought into such desolation, that, wandering alone in a wood without
comfort, was there slain, even by the swineherd of the said earl whom
before he had so wrongfully murdered, as partly is above touched.
Whereby is to be seen the cruel tyranny of princes never to prosper
well, without the just revenge both, of God and man.

This Sigebert being slain, in His place succeeded Kenulphus, in the
year of our Lord 748, who, with the agreement of the West Saxons, was
one of the chief doers against Sigebert his master. This Kenulphus
kept strongly his lordship against Offa, and against the power of all
his enemies, till at length after that he had reigned, as Fabian
saith, one and thirty years, he, resorting to a paramour which he
kept at Merton, was there beset, and likewise slain, by the train and
means of a certain kinsman of the foresaid Sigebert, named Clito or
Cliton, in revengement of King Sigebert's death.

Moreover, in the reign of the foresaid Egbert, king of
Northumberland, and in the eighth year of Kenulphus, king of West
Saxons, Offa, after he had slain the tyrant Beorureclus, which before
had slain Ethelbald, king of Mercia, and uncle to this foresaid Offa,
reigned king of that province.

Of this Offa are told many notable deeds; which because they concern
rather political affairs, and do not greatly appertain to the purpose
of this ecclesiastical history, I omit here to recite; as his wars
and victories against Egbert, king of the Northumbers, as also
against Ethelred, king of East Angles. Item, against Egbert, king of
Kent, otherwise called Wren, whom (as Fabian saith) he took prisoner,
and led bound with him to Mercia. Malmesbury witnesseth otherwise
this to be done, not by Offa, but by Kenulphus, as, Christ willing,
hereafter shall appear. After these victories, Offa had such
displeasure unto the citizens of Canterbury, that he removed the
archbishop's see, and lands of Lambrith, archbishop of Canterbury,
(by the agreement of Pope Adrian,) unto Litchfield. He also chased
the Britons or Welchmen into Wales, and made a famous ditch between
Wales and the outer bounds of Mercia, or middle England, which was
called Ofditch, and builded there a church, which long time after was
called Offkirke. This Offa also married one of his daughters to
Brightricus, that was a king of West Saxons. And for that in his time
was variance between him and the Frenchmen, insomuch that the passage
of merchants was forbidden; therefore he sent Alcuinus, a learned
man, unto Charles the Great, then king of France, to commune the
means of peace; which Charles had after that the said Alcuinus in
great favour and estimation, and afterwards made him abbot of Turonia
in France.

About the latter time of the reign of Offa, king of Mercia,
Ethelbert, being then king of East Angles, (a learned and a right
godly prince,) came to the court of Offa, provoked by the counsel of
his nobles, to sue for the marriage of his daughter, well accompanied
like a prince with his men about him. Whereupon the queen, conceiving
a false suspicion, and fearing that which was never minded; that
Ethelbert with his company, under the pretence and made matter of
marriage, was come to work some violence against her husband, and the
kingdom of Mercia; so she persuaded with King Offa and certain of her
council that night, that the next day following Offa caused him to be
trained into his palace alone from his company, by one called
Guimbertus; who took him and bound him, and there struck off his
head, which forthwith he then presented to the king and queen. And
thus the innocent King Ethelbert was wrongfully murdered, about the
year of our Lord 793; but not without a just revenge at God's hands.
For, as the story recordeth, the foresaid queen, worker of this
villany, lived not three months after, and in her death was so
tormented, that she was fain to bite and rend her tongue in pieces
with her own teeth. Offa understanding at length the innocency of
this king, and the heinous cruelty of his fact, gave the tenth part
of his goods to holy church; and to the church of Hereford, in the
remembrance of this Ethelbert, he bestowed great lands. Moreover, he
builded the abbey of St. Albans, with certain other monasteries
besides. And so afterward he went up to Rome for his penance, where
he gave to the church of St. Peter a penny through every house in his
dominion, which was called commonly Rome-shot, or Peter pence, paid
to the church of St, Peter; and there at length was transformed from
a king to a monk, about the year of our Lord 794, with Kenredus, king
of Northumberland, above mentioned, although some stories deny that
he was a monk.

After Offa king of Mercia, when he had reigned nine and thirty years,
succeeded his son Egfretus, who reigned but four months. This noble
young man died not so much for offences of his own, as for that his
father had spilled much blood to confirm him in his kingdom.

Next to which Egfretus succeeded Kenulphus in the said kingdom of
Mercia, which Kenulphus, retaining the hatred of his predecessor
against the inhabitants of Canterbury, made war upon them, where he
took Egbert their king, otherwise called Wren, whom he bound and led 
prisoner to Mercia. Notwithstanding, shortly after being mollified
with princely clemency in the town of Winchcombe, where he had
builded the same time a church, upon the day when he should dedicate
the same in the presence of thirteen bishops, and of Cutbert, whom he
had placed in the same kingdom of Canterbury before, and ten dukes,
and many other great estates, King Kenulphus brought the said Egbert,
king of Kent, out of prison into the church, where he enlarged him
out of imprisonment, and restored him to his place again. At the
sight whereof, not only Cutbert the foresaid king rejoiced, but also
all the estates and people being there present made such an
exclamation of joy and gladness, that the church (and not only the
church, but also the streets) rang withal, At which time such
bountifulness of gifts and jewels was then bestowed, that, from the
highest estate to the lowest, none departed without something given,
according as to every degree was thought meet. Although Fabian
referreth this story to King Offa, yet causes there be why I assent
rather unto Malmesbury and to Polychronicon, which attribute the same
to Kenulphus, the second king of Mercia after Offa.

A little before, in speaking of certain bishops of Rome, mention was
made of Pope Constantine the First, Pope Gregory the Second, Pope
Gregory the Third, and of Pope Zachary, which deposed Childerike, and
set up Pipinus the French king, &c. Next after this Zachary, in
order, followed Pope Stephen the Second, to whom the foresaid
Pipinus, to gratify again the see of Rome for this their benefit
showed to him, gave and contributed to the said see of Rome the
exarchat or princedom of Ravenna, the kingdom of the Lombards, and
many other great possessions of Italy, with all the cities thereto
adjoining unto the borders of Venice. And this donation of Pipin, no
doubt, if the truth were rightly tried, should be found to be the
same which hitherto falsely hath been thought to be the donation of
Constantine. For else how could it be that the exarchat of Ravenna
could belong all this while to the emperor of Constantinople, if
Constantine before had given it and all Italy from the empire of the
see of Rome?

Next to this Stephen the Second succeeded Paul the First, who,
following his predecessors, thundered out great excommunication
against Constantinus, the emperor of Constantinople, for abrogating
and plucking down images set up in temples. Notwithstanding, this
Constantine neglecting the pope's vain curses, persevered in his
blessed purpose, in destroying idolatry, till the end of his life.
Then came to be pope Constantinus the Second, a layman, and brother
to Desiderius, the king of Lombardy; for the which cause he was
shortly deposed, and thrust into a monastery, having his eyes put
out.

In whose stead succeeded Stephen the Third, who ordained after that
no layman should be pope; condemning moreover the Council of
Constantinople the seventh for heretical, because in that Council the
worshipping of images was reproved and condemned. Contrary to the
which Council this pope not only maintained the filthy idolatry of
images in Christian temples, but also advanced their veneration,
commanding them most ethnically to be incensed, &c. At this time
Carolus Magnus, called Charles the Great, a little before mentioned,
began to reign, by whom this pope caused Desiderius, the Lombard
king, to be deprived.

Then, in this race of popes, after this Stephen the Third, cometh
Adrianus the First, who likewise, following the steps of his fathers
the popes, added and attributed to the veneration of images more than
all the other had done before, writing a book for the adoration and
utility proceeding of them, commanding them to be taken for laymen's
calendars; holding moreover a synod at Rome against Felix, and all
others that spake against the setting up of such stocks and images.
And as Paul the First before him made much of the body of Petronilia,
St. Peter's daughter; so this Adrian clothed the body of St. Peter
all in silver, and covered the altar of St. Paul with a pall of gold.
This Pope Adrian was he whom we declared in the former part of this
treatise to ratify and confirm by revelation the order of St.
Gregory's mass, above the order of St. Ambrose's mass; for unto this
time, which was about the year of our Lord 780, the Liturgy of St.
Ambrose was more used in the Italian churches. The story whereof,
because it is registered in Durandus, Nauclerus, and Jacobus de
Voragine, I thought here to insert the same to this especial purpose,
for the reader to understand the time when this usual mass of the
papists began first to be universal and uniform, and generally in
churches to be received, Thus it followeth in the story by the
foresaid authors set forth.

In times past, (saith he,) when the service which Ambrose made was
more frequented and used in churches than was the service which
Gregory had appointed, the bishop of Rome, then called Adrian,
gathered a council together, in the which it was or dained that
Gregory's service should be observed and kept universally. Which
determination of the council Charles the emperor did diligently put
in execution, while he ran about by divers provinces, and informed
all the clergy, partly with threatenings, and partly with
punishments, to receive that order. And, as touching the books of
Ambrose's service, he burnt them to ashes in all places, and threw
into prison many priests that would not consent and agree unto the
matter. Blessed Eugenius the bishop, coming unto the council, found
that it was dissolved three days before his coming. Notwithstanding,
through his wisdom, he so persuaded the lord pope, that he called
again all the prelates that had been present at the council, and were
now departed by the space of three days. Therefore when the council
was gathered again together, in this all the fathers did consent and
agree, that both the mass books of Ambrose and Gregory should be laid
upon the altar of blessed St. Peter the apostle, and the church doors
diligently shut, and most warily sealed up with the signets of many
and divers bishops. Again, that they should all the whole night give
themselves to prayer, that the Lord might reveal, open, and show unto
them by some evident sign or token which of these two services he
would have used in the temples. Thus they, doing in all points as
they had determined, in the morning opened the church doors, and
found both the missals, or mass books, open upon the altar; or
rather, (as some say,) they found Gregory's mass book utterly plucked
asunder, one piece from another, and scattered over all the church.
As touching Ambrose's book, they only found it open upon the altar in
the very same place where they before laid it, This miracle Pope
Adrian, like a wise expounder of dreams, interpreted thus, that as
the leaves were torn and blown abroad all the church over, so should
Gregory's book be used throughout the world. Whereupon they thought
themselves sufficiently instructed and taught of God, that the
service which Gregory had made ought to be set abroad and used
throughout the world, and that Ambrose's service should only be
observed and kept in his own church of Mediolanum, where he some time
was bishop.

Thus hast thou heard, brother reader, the full and whole narration of
this mystical miracle, with the pope's exposition upon the same,
which seemeth to be as true as that which Daniel speaketh of, how the
idol Bel did eat up all the meat that was set before him all the
night, Dan. xiv. Concerning the which miracle, I need not admonish
thee to smell out the blind practices of these night crows, to blind
the world with forged inventions instead of true stories. Albeit to
grant the miracle to be most true and unfallible, yet, as touching
the exposition thereof, another man beside the pope percase might
interpret this great miracle otherwise, as thus: that God was angry
with Gregory's book, and therefore rent it in pieces and scattered it
abroad, and the other, as good, lay sound, untouched, and, at the
least, so to be preferred. Notwithstanding, whatsoever is to be
thought of this miracle, with the exposition thereof, thus the matter
fell out, that Gregory's service had only the place, and yet hath to
this day in the greatest part of Europe, the service of Ambrose being
excluded. And thus much touching the great act of Pope Adrian for the
setting up of the mass. By the relation whereof yet this know ledge
may come to the reader, at least to understand how that commonly in
Christian nations abroad as yet no uniform order of any missal or
mass book was received, as hath been hitherto discoursed.

Now, from the popes, to return again to the emperors, from whence we
digressed: like as Pipinus, the father of Charles, (as hath been
before sufficiently told,) had given to the see papal all the
princedom of Ravenna, with other donations, and revenues, and lands
in Italy; so this Carolus, following his father's devotion, did
confirm the same, adding moreover thereunto the city and dominion of
Venice, Histria, the dukedom Forojuliense, the dukedom Spoletanum,
and Beneventanum, and other possessions more, to the patrimony of St.
Peter, making him the prince of Rome and of Italy. The pope, again to
recompense his so gentle kindness, made him to be entitled Most
Christian King, and made him a Roman patrician; moreover, ordained
him only to be taken for emperor of Rome. For these, and other causes
more, Carolus bare no little affection to the said Adrian above all
other popes, as may well appear by a letter of Carolus Magnus sent to
King Offa, what time the said Offa (as is above prefixed) sent to him
Alcunius for en treaty of peace.

The cause why this Carolus writeth so favourably of Adrian, partly is
touched before; partly also was, for that Caroloman, his elder
brother, being dead, his wife, called Bertha, with her two children,
came to Adrian to have them confirmed in their father's kingdom;
whereunto the pope, to show a pleasure to Carolus, would not agree,
but gave the mother, with her two children, and Desiderius, the
Lombard king, with his whole kingdom, his wife and children, into the
hands of the said Carolus, who led them with him captive into France,
and there kept them in servitude during their life.

Thus Carolus Magnus being proclaimed emperor of Rome, through the
preferment of Adrian and Pope Leo the Third, which succeeded next
after him, the empire was translated from the Grecians, about the
year of our Lord 801, unto the Frenchmen, where it continued about
one hundred and two years, till the coming of Conradus and his nephew
Otho, which were Germans; and so hath continued after them among the
Almans unto this present time. This Charles builded so many
monasteries as there be letters in the row of the A B C; he was
beneficial chiefly to the churchmen, also merciful to the poor, in
his acts valiant and triumphant, skilled in all languages; he held a
council at Francford, where was condemned the Council of Nice and
Irene for setting up and worshipping images, &c.

Concerning which council of Nice, and thinges there concluded and
enacted, (because no man shall think the detesting of images to be
any new thing now begun,) thus I find it recorded in an ancient
written history of Roger Hoveden: In the year of our Lord 792,
Charles the French king sent a book containing the acts of a certain
synod unto Britain, directed unto him from Constantinople. In the
which book (lamentable to be told) many things inconvenient, and
clean contrary unto the true faith, are there to be found; especially
for that, by the common consent of almost all the learned bishops of
the East church, not so few as three hundred, it was there agreed
that images should be worshipped; which thing the church of God hath
always abhorred. Against which book Albinus wrote an epistle
substantially grounded out of the authority of Holy Scripture, which
epistle, with the book, the said Albinus, in the name and person of
our bishops and princes, did present to the French king.

And thus much by the way of Romish matters: now to return again to
the Northumberland kings, where we left at Egbert; which Egbert (as
is before declared) succeeded after Celulphus, after he was made
monk. And likewise the said Egbert also, following the devotion of
his uncle Celulphus, and Kenredus before him, was likewise shorn monk
after he had reigned twenty years in Northumberland; leaving his son
Osulphus after him to succeed. About which time, and in the same
year, when Celulphus deceased in his monastery, which was the year of
our Lord 764, divers cities were burnt with sudden fire, as the city
of Wenta, the city of London, the city of York, Doncaster, with
divers other towns besides. Who the first year of his reign, which
was the year of our Lord 757, being innocently slain, next to him
followed Mollo, otherwise called Adelwald, who likewise being slain
of Alcredus, after be had reigned eleven years, departed. After
Alcredus, when he had reigned ten years, was expulsed out of his
kingdom by his people. Then was Ethelbert, otherwise named Adelred,
the son of the foresaid Mollo, received king of Northumberland; which
Ethelbert or Adelred in like sort, after he had reigned five years,
was expulsed. After whom succeeded Alfwold, who likewise, when he had
reigned eleven years, was unjustly slain. So likewise after him his
nephew, and the son of Alcredus, named Osredus, reigned one year, and
was slain. Then the foresaid Ethelbert, the son of Mollo, after
twelve years' banish ment, reigned again in Northumberland the space
of four years, and was slain.

Thus, as you have heard, after the reign of King Egbert before
mentioned, such trouble and perturbation was in the dominion of
Northumberland, with slaying, expulsing, and deposing their kings one
after another, that after the murdering of this Edelred, above
specified, none durst take the government upon him, seeing the great
danger there upon ensuing. Insomuch that the foresaid kingdom did lay
void and waste the space of three and thirty years together; after
the term of which years this kingdom of Northumberland, with the
kingdoms also of the other Saxons besides, came altogether into the
hands of Egbert, king of West Saxons, and his progeny, and in the
eight and twentieth year of the rdgn of the said Egbert; whereof more
shall be said (Christ willing) hereafter, Of this troublesome and
outrageous time of Northumberland people speaketh also the said
learned man Alcuinus, otherwise called Albinus, in the same country
born, writing out of France into England, and complaining of the same
in divers his letters.

The same author, Alcuinus, writing unto the foresaid Edelred, king of
Northumberland, maketh record of a strange sight which he himself did
see the same time in the city of York; it rained blood; whereof his
words which he wrote concerning the same unto the said King Edelred
be these: What signifieth the rain of blood, which in time of Lent,
in the city of York, the chief city of that dominion, and in the
church of St. Peter, the chief of the apostles, we ourselves did see
to fall from the church top, (the element being clear,) out of the
north parts of the temple, &c. This wondrous sight, testified by
Malmesburiensis, is thought of Fabian to happen in the second year of
the reign of Brightricus, (as with the time doth well agree,) which
was the year of our Lord 780, and is thought of some expositors to
betoken the coming of the Danes into this land, which entered shortly
after about seven years, in the ninth year of the reign of
Brightricus, king of the West Saxons. Which Brightricus, in defence
thereof, sent forth his stew ard of his household with a small
company, which shortly was slain; but by the strength of the said
Brightricus, and the other Saxons kings, they were compelled to void
the land for that time, which was in the year 790, To this
Brightricus King Offa, as is aforesaid, gave his daughter Edelburga
to wife, by whom he at length was impoisoned, beside certain other of
his nobles, upon whom the said queen before him had practised the
same wickedness. Who then after that fled over to Charles the Great
into France; where she, being offered for her beauty to marry either
to him or his son, because she chose rather his son, married neither
the one, nor yet the other; but was thrust into a monastery, where
she, then playing the harlot with a monk, was expulsed from thence,
and ended her life in penury and misery.

In the mean time, while this Edelburga was thus working her feats in
England, Irene, empress of the Greeks, was as busy also for her part
at Constantinople; who first, through the means of Pope Adrian, took
up the body of Constantine, emperor of Constantinople, her own
husband's father. And when she had burned the same, she caused the
ashes to be cast into the sea, because he disannulled images.
Afterwards, reigning with her son Constantine the Sixth, son to Leo
the Fourth, (whom also we declared before to be excommunicated for
taking away images,) being at dissension with him, caused him to be
taken and laid in prison; who afterward, through power of friends,
being restored to his empire again, at last she caused the same her
own son to be cast into prison, and his eyes to be put out so
cruelly, that within short space he died. After this the said
Irenæus, bishop of Constantinople, held a council at Nicca, where it
was decreed, that images should again be restored unto the church;
which council after was repealed by another council holden at
Francford by Charles the Great. At length she was deposed by
Nicephorus, (who reigned after,) and was expulsed the empire, who,
after the example of Edelburga above mentioned, (condignly punished
for her wickedness,) ended likewise her life in much penury and
misery.

About the time when the foresaid Brightricus was impoisoned by
Edelburga his wife died also King Offa, which was about the year of
our Lord 795, or (as some say,) 802. After which Offa (as is
aforesaid) succeeded Egfert, then Kenulphus, after whom succeeded
Kenelmus his son, who in his younger age was wickedly murdered by his
sister Quinreda, and Askebertus, about the year of our Lord 819, and
in the church of Winchcombe was counted for a holy martyr. After him
succeeded his uncle Ceolulphus, whom Bernulphus in the first year of
his reign expulsed, and reigned in his place; who likewise in the
third year of his reign was overcome and expulsed by Egbert, king of
the West Saxons, and afterward slain by the East Angles. And the
kingdom of Mercia also ceased, and came into the hands of the West
Saxons.

Hitherto I have brought (as thou seest, good reader) the confused and
turbulent reigns of these seven Saxon kings, who after the expulsion
of the Britons ruled and reigned asunder in sundry quarters of this
land together, unto this present time of Egbert, king of the West
Saxons, by whom it so pleased God to begin to reduce and unite all
these scattered kingdoms into one monarchical form of dominion.
Wherefore, as in the foresaid Egbert beginneth a new alteration of
the commonwealth here in this land among the Saxons; so my purpose is
(the Lord willing) with the same Egbert to enter a new beginning of
my third book, after a brief recapitulation first made of such things
as in this second book before are to be collected and noted,
especially touching the monasteries builded, the kings who have
entered the life and profession monastic; also queens, and queens'
daughters, which the same time professed solitary life in monasteries
which they or their ancestors had erected.

And thus hast thou, gentle reader, concerning the seven kingdoms of
these Saxons, ruling all together in England, the course and order of
their doings briefly described and discoursed unto thee, in such
order as the matter, being so intricate, in such confusion and
diversity of things incident together, would permit; following
especially in this story hitherto the line of the Northumberland
kings, as the other stories must follow the line of West Saxon kings.
The which seven kingdoms of these said Saxons, after they had untruly
expulsed and chased out the Britons from their land, like as they
never were in quietness among themselves, reigning thus together till
the time of this Egbert; so also after the reign of Egbert, the whole
realm. being reduced into one regiment, no less were they impugned
and afflicted by the Danes continually from time to time, till the
last conquest of William the Norman. Thus it pleased God (ever
lightly) to revenge with blood bloody violence, and the unjust
dealings of men with just and like retribution. But of this let the
Christian reader consider, as God's grace shall work in him. In the
mean time, we, as much as in us did lie, satisfying the part of a
historician, have thus hitherto set forth and declared concerning
these seven foresaid kingdoms, first, the names and lineal descent of
the kings severally by themselves, as by the table precedent may
appear; then what were, the doings and acts of the same; how first,
being pagans, they were converted to the Christian faith; what things
in their time happened in the church; how many of them of kings were
made monks; how devout they were then to holy church and to the 
churchmen, and especially to the church of Rome. But the churchmen
then were much otherwise in life than afterward they declared
themselves to be. Through which devotion of the said kings first came
in the Peter pence or Rome-schots in this realm, as by Jue first in
his dominion, then by Offa in his lordship, and afterwards by
Adelwulph brought in and ratified through the whole realm; where also
is to be noted, that by the foresaid kings and queens of the said
Saxons the most part of the greatest abbeys and nunneries in this
realm were first begun and builded, as partly by the names of some
here follow to be seen.

First, the church or minster of St. Paul in London was founded by
Ethelbert, king of Kent, and Sigebert, king of Essex, about the year
of our Lord 604.

The first cross and altar within this realm was first up in the north
parts in Hevenfeeld, upon the occasion of Oswald, king of
Northumberland, fighting against Cadwalla, where he in the same place
set up the sign of the cross, kneeling and praying there for victory.

The church of Winchester was first begun and founded by Kinegilsus,
king of Mercians, having nine miles about it; after finished by his
son Kenwalcus, where Wine of Englishmen was first bishop, An. 636.

The church of Lincoln, first founded by Paulinus, bishop, An. 629.

The church of Westminster, began first by a certain citizen of
London, through the instigation of Ethelbert, king of Kent, which
before was an isle ofthorns, An. 614.

The common schools, first erected at Cambridge by Sigebert, king of
East Angles, An. 636.

The abbey of Knovisburgh, builded by Furceus the hermit, An. 637.

The monastery of Malmesbury, by one Meldul phus, a Scot, about the
year of our Lord 640, afterward enlarged by Agilbert, bishop of
Winchester.

The monastery in Gloucester, first builded by Ofricus, king of
Mercia, as Cestrensis saith; but, as William Malmesbury writeth, by
Ulferus and Etheldred, brethren to Kineburga, abbess of the same
house, An. 679.
(Illustration: A ruined Monastery. )

The monastery of Mailrose, by the flood of Twide, by Aidanus, a
Scottish bishop.

The nunnery of Heorenton, by Hevi, who was the first nun in
Northumberland.

The monastery of Heteseie, by Oswy, king of Northumberland, who also,
with his daughter Elfred, gave possessions for twelve monasteries in
the parts of Northumberland, An. 656.

The monastery of St. Martin in Dover, builded by Whitred, king of
Kent.

The abbey of Lestingy, by Ceadda, (whom we call St. Ced,) through the
grant of Oswald, son to St. Oswald, king of Northumberland, An. 651.

The monastery of Whitby, called otherwise Stenhalt, by Hilda,
daughter to the nephew of Edwin, king of Northumberland, An. 657.

Item, another monastery called Hacanos, not far from the same place,
builded by the said Hilda the same year.

The abbey of Abbington, builded by Sissa, king of Southsex, An. 666.

Item, an abbey in the east side of Lincoln, called Joanno, by St.
Botulph, An. 654.

The monastery in Ely, founded by Etheldred, or Etheldrida, daughter
of Anna, king of East Angles, and the wife of Elfride, king of
Northumberland, An. 674.

The monastery of Chertsey, in Sollthery, founded by Erkenwald, bishop
of London, An. 674.
thrown down by the Danes, after re-edified by King Edgar.

Item, the nunnery of Berking, edified by the said Erkenwaldus, bishop
of London, about the same time.

The abbey of Peterborough, called otherwise Modehamsted, founded by
King Ethelwald, king of the Mercians, An. 675.

Bardney abbey, by Ethelredus, king of the Mer cians, An. 700.

Glastenbury, by Jua, king of the West Saxons, and after repaired and
enriched by King Edgar, An. 701.

Ramsey, in the time of King Edgar, by one Au winus, a nobleman, An.
973. King Edgar builded in his time forty monasteries, who reigned
An. 901.

The nunnery of Winburn, builded by Cuthhurga, sister toingilsus, King
Jua's brother, An, 717.

The monastery of Sealesev, by the Isle of Wight, by Wilfridus, bishop
of York, An. 678.

The monastery of Wincombe, by Kenulphus, king of the Mercians, An.
737.

St. Albans, builded by Offa, king of the Mer cians, An. 755.

The abbey of Eusham, by Edwinus, bishop, An. 691.

Ripon, in the north, by Wilfridus, bishop, An. 709.

The abbey of Echlinghey, by King Alured, An. 89l.

The nunnery of Shafteshury, by the same Aluredus, the same year.

Thus ye see what monasteries, and in what time, began to be founded
by the Saxon kings, newly converted to the Christian faith, within
the space of two hundred years; who, as they seemed then to have a
certain zeal and devotion to God-ward, according to the leading and
teaching that then was; so it seemeth again to me, two things to be
wished in these foresaid kings: first, that they which began to erect
these monasteries and cells of monks and nuns, to live solely and
singly by themselves out of the holy state of matrimony, had foreseen
what danger and what absurd enomiities might and also did thereof
ensue, both publicly to the church of Christ, and privately to their
own souls; secondly, that unto this their zeal and devotion had been
joined like knowledge and doctrine in Christ's gospel, especially in
the article of our free justification by the faith of Jesus Christ;
because of the lack whereof, as well the builders and founders
thereof, as they that were professed in the same, seem both to have
run the wrong way, and to have been deceived. For albeit in them
there was a devotion and zeal of mind that thought well in this their
doing, which I will not here reprehend; yet the end and cause of
their deeds and buildings cannot be excused, being contrary to the
rule of Chrisfs gospel; forsomuch as they did these things seeking
thereby merits with God, and for remedy of their souls, and remission
of their sins, as may appear testified in their own records.

And this blind ignorance of that age, thus above prenoted, was the
cause not only why these kings builded so many monasteries upon
zealous superstition, but also why so many of them, forsaking their
orderly vocation of princely regiment, gave themselves over to
monastical profession, or rather wilful superstition. Concerning the
names and number of which kings that were professed monks is
sufficiently in the story before declared; the names of whom we
showed to be seven or eight, within the space of these two hundred
years. Such was then the superstitious devotion of kings and princes
in that age; and no less also to be noted in queens' and kings'
daughters, with other noble women of the same age and time; the names
of whom it were too long here to recite. As Hilda, daughter to the
nephew of Edwin, king of Northumberland, abbess of Ely. Erchengoda,
with her sister Ermenilda, daughters of Ercombertus, king of Kent,
which Erchengoda was professed in St. Bridget's order in France.
Item, Edelberga, wife and queen to King Edwin of Northumberland, and
daughter of King Anna, which was also in the same house of St.
Bridget made a nun. Item, Etheldreda, whom we term St. Eldrid, wife
to King Ecfride of Northumberland; who, being married to two
husbands, could not be obtained to give her consent to either of
them, during the space of twelve years, but would needs live a
virgin, and was professed nun at Helings. Werburga was the daughter
of Ulferus, king of Mercians, and made nun at Ely. Kinreda, sister of
King tlferus, aud Kineswida her sister, were both nuns professed.
Serburga, daughter of King Anna, king of Mercians, and wife of
Ercombert, king of Kent, was abbess at Ely. Elfrida, daughter of
Oswy, kind of Northumberland, was abbess of Whitney. Mildreda,
Milburga, and Milguida, all three daughters of Merwaldus, king of
West Mercians, entered the profession and vow of nunnish virginity.
Kineburga, wife of Aifride, king of Northumberland, and sister to
Osricus, king of Mercians, and daughter of King Penda, was professed
abbess of the monastery in Gloucester. Elfleda, daughter of Oswy,
king, and wife of Peda, son of King Penda, likewise enclosed herself
in the same profession and vow of Romish chastity. Likewise Alfritha,
wife to King Edgar, and Editha, daughter to the said Edgar, with
Wolfrith her mother, &c. All which holy nuns, with divers more, the
Romish Catholics have canonized for saints, and put the most part of
them in their calendar, only because of the vow of their chastity
solemnly professed. Concerning which chastity, whether they kept it
or no, little I have to say against them, and less to swear for them.
But whether they so kept it or not, if this gift of chas tity which
they professed were given them of God, small praiseworthy was it in
them to keep it. And if it were not given them, I will not say here
of them so much as hath been said of some other, which sufficiently
have painted out to the world the de meanour of these holy votaries.
But this I will say, that although they kept it never so perfectly,
yet it is not that which maketh saints before God, but only the blood
of Christ Jesus, and a true faith in him.
(Illustratution: Map of England under the Heptarchy )



THE THIRD BOOK.
FROM THE REIGN OF KING EGBERTUS UNTO THE TIME OF WILLIAM CONQUEROR.
22. THE COMING OF THE DANES

Now remaineth likewise, as before I did in describing the descent and
diversity of the seven kings all together reigning and ruling in this
land; so to prosecute in like order the lineal succession of them
which, after Egbertus, king of the West Saxons, governed and ruled
solely, until the conquest of William the Norman; first expressing
their names, and afterwards importing such acts as in their time
happened in the Church worthy to be noted. Albeit, as touching the
acts and doings of these kings, because they are sufficiently and at
large described, and taken out of Latin writers into the English
tongue by divers and sundry anthors, and, namely, in the history or
chronicle of Fabian; I shall not spend much travail thereupon, but
rather refer the reader unto him, or to some other, where the
troublesome tumults between the Englishmen and the Danes at that time
may be seen, whoso listeth to read them.

Here is to be noted, that before the reign of Edward the Confessor,
the Danes obtained the crown under their captain Canutus, who reigned
nineteen years. Haraldus Harefoot, son of Canutus, four years.
Hardeknutus, son of Canutus, two years. Edward the Confessor, an
Englishman, son of Etheldred, twenty-four years. Haraldus, son of
Earl Goodwin, a usurper, one year. William Conqueror, a Norman.

In the reign of Brightric, a little before mentioned, about the year
of grace 795, there was in his dominion a noble personage, of some
called Egbert, of some Ethelbert, of some Ethelbright; who, being
feared of the same Brightric, because he was of a kingly blood, and
near unto the crown, was, by the force and conspiracy of the
forenamed Brightric, chased and pursued out of the land of Britain
into France, where he endured till the death of the said Brightric.
After the hearing whereof, Egbert sped him quickly out of France unto
his own country of Westsax, where he in such wise behaved himself
that he obtained the regiment and governance of the kingdom.

Bernulph, king of Mercia above mentioned, with other kings, had this
Egbert in such derision, that they made of him divers scoffing jests
and scorning rhymes, all which he sustained for a time. But when be
was more established in his kingdom, and had proved the minds of his
subjects, and especially God working withal, he afterward assembled
his knights, and gave to the said Bernulph a battle in a place called
Elinden, in the province of Hampton; and notwithstanding in that
fight was great odds of number, as six or eight against one, yet
Egbert (through the might of the Lord, which giveth victory as
pleaseth him) had the better, and won the field; which done, he
seized that lordship into his hand; and that also done, he made war
upon the Kentish Saxons, and at length of them in like wise obtained
the victory. And, as it is in Polychronicon testified, he also
subdued Northumberland, and caused the kings of these three kingdoms
to live under him as tributaries, or joined them to his kingdom. This
Egbert also won from the Britons, or Welchmen, the town of Chester,
which they had kept possession of till this day. After these and
other victories, he peaceably enjoying the land, called a council of
his lords at Winchester, where by their advices he was crowned king
and chief lord over this land, which before that day was called
Britain; but then he sent out into all coasts of the land his
commandments and commissions, charging straitly that, from that day
forward, the Saxons should be called Angles, and the land Anglia.

About the thirtieth year of the reign of Egbert the heathenish people
of the Danes, which a little before had made horrible destruction in
Northumberland, and especially in the Isle of Lindefarne, where they
spoiled the churches, and murdered the ministers, with men, women,
and children, after a cruel manner, entered now the second time with
a great host into this land, and spoiled the Isle of Sheppey, in
Kent, or near to Kent; where Egbert, hearing thereof, assembled his
people, and met with them at Carrum. But in that conflict he sped not
so well as he was wont in times before, but with his knights was
compelled to forsake the field. Notwithstanding in the next battle
the said Egbert, with a small power, overthrew a great multitude of
them, and so drave them back. The next year following the said Danes
made their return into the land westward, where, joining with the
Britons, by the help and power of them they assailed the lands of
Egbert, and did much harm in many places of his dominion; so that
after this day they were continually abiding in the realm of England,
till the time of Hardicanute, last king of the Danes' blood, so that
many of them were married to English women, and many Englishmen are
descended of them.

And thus, as by the stories appear, this troublesome land of Britain,
now called England, hath been hitherto by five sundry outward nations
plagued. First, by the Romans; then by the Scots and Picts; thirdly,
by the Saxons; fourthly, by the Danes, of whose outrageous cruelty
and hostility our English histories do most exclaim and complain;
fifthly, by the Normans, which I pray God be the last.

Then it followeth in the story, that the time of this persecution of
the foresaid pagans and Danes continuing, King Egbert, when he had
ruled the West Saxons, and over the more part of England, by the term
of seven and thirty years, died, and was buried at Winchester,
leaving to his son Ethelwolfe his kingdom, who first was bishop of
Winchester, and after upon necessity made king, leaving withal and
pronouncing this saying to his son: Felicem fore si regnum, quod
multa rexerat industria, ille consueta genti illi non interrumperet
ignavia.

 Ethelwolfe, the son of Egbert, in his former age had entered into
the order of subdeacon, as some others say, was made bishop of
Winchester; but afterwards, being the only son of Egbert, was made
king through the dispensation (as Fabian saith) of Pope Paschalis:
but that cannot be, for Paschalis then was not bishop; so that by the
computation of time it should rather seem to be Gregory the Fourth.
This Ethelwolfe (as being himself once nuzzled in that order) was
always good and devout to holy church and religious orders, insomuch
that he gave to them the tithe of all his goods and lands in West
Saxony, with liberty and freedom from all servage and civil charges.
Whereof his chart instrument beareth testimony, proceeding in tenor
much like to the donation of Ethelbaldus, king of Mercians above
mentioned.

By the privileges and donations given by King Ethelwolfe to the
clergy, it may appear how and when the churches of England began
first to be endowed with temporalities and lands; also how their
privileges and exemptions were enlarged; moreover, (and that which
specially is to be considered and lamented,) what pernicious doctrine
this was, wherewith they were led thus to set remission of their
sins, and remedy of their souls, in this donation, and such other
deeds of their donation, contrary to the information of God's word,
and with no small derogation from the cross of Christ.

These things thus done within the realm, the said Ethelwolfe the
king, taking his journey to Rome, with Alfred his youngest son,
committed him to the bringing up of Pope Leo the Fourth, where he
also re-edifieth the English school at Rome; which being founded by
King Offa, or rather by Jue, king of Mercians, (as in the Flowers of
Histories is affirmed,) was lately, in the time of King Egbert his
father, consumed with fire. Further and besides, this king gave and
granted there unto Rome of every fire-house a penny to be paid
through his whole land, as King Jue in his dominion had done before.
Also he gave and granted yearly to be paid to Rome 300 marks; that
is, to the maintaining of the light of St. Peter 100 marks, to the
light of St. Paul 100 marks, to the use of the pope also another
hundred. This done, he returning home through France, married there
Judith, the daughter of Charles the Bald, the French king, whom he
restored afterward (contrary to the laws of West Saxons) to the title
and throne of a queen. For before it was decreed among the West
Saxons, (by the occasion of wicked Ethelburga, who poisoned
Brightric, her own husband,) that after that no king's wife there
should have the name or place of a queen.

This Ethelwolfe had especially about him two bishops whose counsel he
was most ruled by, Swithin, bishop of Winchester, and Adelstan,
bishop of Shireborne. Of the which two the one was more skilful in
temporal and civil affairs, touching the king's wars, and filling of
his coffers, and other furniture for the king. The other (who was
Swithin) was of a contrary sort, wholly disposed and indined to
spiritual meditation, and to minister spiritual counsel to the king,
who had been schoolmaster to the king before. Wherein appeared one
good condition of this king's nature, among his other virtues, not
only in following the precepts and advertisements of his old
schoolmaster, but also in that he, like a kind and thankful pupil,
did so reverence his bringer up and old schoolmaster, (as he called
him,) that he ceased not till he made him bishop of Winchester, by
the consecration of Celnoch, then archbishop of Canterbury. But as
coneerning the miracles which are read in the church of Winchester of
this Swithin, them I leave to be read together with the Iliads of
Homer, or tales of Robin Hood.

This Gregory the Fourth, in this present chapter above mentioned, was
the third pope which succeeded after Paschalis the First, being but
four years betwixt them; which Paschalis succeeded after Stephen the
Fourth, who followed after Leo the Third, next pope unto Adrian above
in our history mentioned, where we treated of Charles the Great. From
the time of that Adrian the First, unto Pope Adrian the Third, the
emperors had some stroke in the election (at least in the
conflrmation) of the Roman pope. Notwithstanding, divers of these
foresaid Popes in the mean time began to work their practices to
bring their purpose about. But yet all their devices could take no
full effect before the said Adrian the Third. as hereafter (Christ
willing) shall be declared. So that the emperors all this while bare
some rule in choosing the popes, and in assembling general councils.
Wherefore by the commandment of Ludovicus the emperor, in the time of
this Gregory the Fourth, a general synod was commenced at Aquisgrane,
where it was decreed by the said Gregory and his assistants, First,
That every church should have sufficient of his own proper lands and
revenues to find the priests thereof, that none should need to lack
or go about a-begging. That none of the clergy, of what order or
degree soever he be, should use any vesture of any precious or
scarlet colour neither shall wear rings on their fingers, unless it
be when prelates be at mass, or give their consecrations. That
prelates should not keep too great ports or families, nor keep great
horses, use dice or harlots; and the monks should not exceed measure
in gluttony or riot. That none of the clergy, being either anointed
or shaven, should use either gold or silver in their shoes, slippers,
or girdles, like to Heliogabalus. By this it may be conjectured what
pomp and pride in those days was crept into the clergy. Moreover, by
the said Pope Gregory the Fourth, at the commandment of Ludovicus,
emperor, the feast of All Saints was first brought into the church.

After this pope, came Sergius the Second, which first brought in the
altering of the pope's names, because he was named before Swine's
Snout; which also ordained the Agnus thrice to be sung at the mass,
and the host to be divided into three parts.

After him was Pope Leo the Fourth, to whom this King Ethelwolfe (as
in this present chapter is above specified) did commit the tuition of
his son Alured. By this Pope Leo the Fourth it came in, and was first
enacted in a council of his, That no bishop should be condemned under
threescore and twelve witnesses, according as ye see in the witnesses
at the condemnation of Stephen Gardiner, orderly practised.

Also, contrary to the law of Gregory the Fourth, his predecessor,
this pope ordained the cross (all set with gold and precious stones)
to be carried before him, like a pope.

And here next now followeth and cometh in the whore of Babylon,
(rightly in her true colours, by the permission of God, and
manifestly without all tergiversation,) to appear to the whole world;
and that not only after the spiritual sense, but after the very
letter and the right form. For after this Leo above mentioned, the
cardinals proceeding to their ordinary election. (after a solemn mass
of the Holy Ghost, to the perpetual shame of them and of that see,)
instead of a man pope, elected a woman to minister sacraments, to say
masses, to give orders, to constitute deacons, priests, and bishops,
to promote prelates, to make abbots, to consecrate churches and
altars, to have the reign and rule of emperors and kings; and so she
did indeed, called by name Joan the Eighth. This woman's proper name
was Gilberta, (a Dutch woman of Magunce,) who went with an English
monk out of the abbey of Fulda in man's apparel unto Athens, and
after, through her dexterity of wit and learning, was promoted unto
the popedom, where she sat two years and six rnontlls. At last
openly, in the face of a general procession, she fell in labour and
travail of child, and so died. By reason whereof the cardinals even
to this day do avoid to come near by that street where this shame was
taken. By Benedictus the Third, who succeeded next in the whorish 
see, was first ordained (as most writers do record) the dirge to be
said for the dead. Albeit before him Gregory the Third had done in
that matter worthily for his part already.

After him sat Pope Nicholas the First, who enlarged the pope's
decrees with many constitutions, equalling the authority of them with
the writings of the apostles. He ordained that no secular prince, nor
the emperor himself, should be present at their councils, unless in
matters concerning the faith, to the end that such as they judged to
be heretics they should execute and murder. Also, that no lay men
should sit in judgment upon the clergymen, or reason upon the pope's
power. Also, that no Christian magistrate should have any power upon
any prelate, alleging that a prelate is called god. Also, that all
ellurch service should be in Latin, yet, notwithstanding, dispensing
with the Sclavonians and Polonians to retain still their vulgar
language. Sequences in the mass were by him first allowed. By this
pope priests began to be restrained and debarred from marrying;
whereof Hulderike, Bishop of Ausbrough, (a learned and a holy man,)
sending a letter unto the pope, gravely and learnedly refuteth and
reclaimeth against his undisereet proceedings touching that matter.

After this Pope Nicholas succeeded Adrianus the Second, Joannes the
Ninth, Martinus the Second. After these came Adrian the Third, and
Stephen the Fifth. By this Adrian it was first decreed, that no
emperor after that time should intermeddle or have any thing to do in
the election of the pope. And thus began the emperor's first decay,
and the papacy to swell and rise aloft. And thus much concerning
Romish matters for this time.

Then to return where we left, touching the story of King Ethelwolfe.
About the latter end of his reign the Danes, which before had invaded
the realm in the time of King Egbert, as is above declared, now made
their entry again, three and thirty ships arriving about Hampshire;
through the barbarous tyranny of whom much bloodshed and murder
happened here among Englishmen, in Dorsetshire, about Portsmouth, in
Kent, in East Angle. in Lindsie, at Rochester, about London, and in
Westsex, where Ethelwolfe the king was overcome, besides divers other
kings and dukes, whom the Danes, daily approaching in great
multitudes, in divers victories had put to flight. At length King
Ethelwolfe, with his son Ethelbald, warring against them in Southery,
at Okley, drave them to the sea; where they, hovering a space, after
a while burst in again with horrible rage and cruelty, as hereafter
(Christ willing) shall be declared, so much as to our purpose shall
serve, professing in this history to write of no matters civil and
political, but only pertaining to the church. The cause of this great
affliction sent of God unto this realm thus I found expressed and
collected in a Certain old written story, Which hath no name; albeit
in all parts of his commendation I do not fully with him accord. The
words of the writer be these.

"In the primitive church of the Englishmen religion did most clearly
shine, insomuch that kings, queens, princes, and dukes, consuls,
barons, and rulers of churches, incensed witll the desire of the
kingdom of heaven, labouring and striving among themselves to enter
into monkery, into voluntary exile and solitary life. forsook all,
and followed the Lord. Where, in process of time, all virtue so much
decayed among them, that in fraud and treachery none seemed like unto
them neither was to them any thing odious or hateful but piety and
justice; neither any thing in price or honour, but civil war and
shedding of innocent blood. Wherefore Almighty God sent upon them
pagan and cruel nations, like swarms of bees, which neither spared
women nor children, as Danes, Norwegians, Goths, Suevians, Vandals,
and Frisians; who, from the beginning of the reign of King Ethelwolfe
till the coming of the Normans, by the space near of two hundred and
thirty years, destroyed their sinful land from the one side of the
sea to the other, from man also to beast. For why? They, invading
England ofttimes of every side, went not about to subdue and possess
it, but only to spoil and destroy it. And if it had chanced them at
any time to be overcome of Englishmen, it availed nothing, whenas
other navies still with greater power in other places were ready,
upon a sudden and unawares, to approach upon them"

Thus far have you the words of mine author, declaring the cause which
provoked God's anger; whereunto may be adjoined the wickedness, not
only of them, but of their forefathers also before them, who, falsely
breaking the faith and promise made with the Britons, did cruelly
murder their nobles, wickedly oppressed their commons, impiously
persecuted the innocent Christians, injuriously possessed their land
and habitation, chasing the inhabitants out of house and country;
besides the violent murder of the monks of Bangor, and divers foul
slaughters among the poor Britons, who sent for them to be their
helpers. Wherefore God's just recompence falling upon them from that
time, never suffered them to be quiet from foreign enemies till the
coming of William the Norman, &c.

Moreover, concerning the outward occasions given of the Englishmen's
parts, moving the Danes first to invade the realm, I find in certain
stories two most specially assigned. The one unjustly given, and
justly taken. The other not given justly, and unjustly taken. Of the
which two the first was given in Northumberland, by the means of
Osbright, reigning under-king of West Saxons, in the north parts.
This Osbright, upon a time journeying by the way, turned into the
house of one of his nobles clled Bruer; who having at home a wife of
great beauty, (he being absent abroad,) the king after his dinner
(allured with the excellency of her beauty) did sorely ill treat her;
whereupon she being greatly dismayed, and vexed in her mind, made her
moan to her husband on his return of this violence and injury
received. Bruer, consulting with his friends, first went to the king,
resigning into his hands all such service alld possessions which he
did hold of him: that done, he took shipping and sailed into Denmark,
where he had great friends, and had his bringing up before; there,
making his moan to Codrinus the king, desired his aid in revenging of
the great villany of Osbright against him and his wife. Codrinus,
hearing this, and glad to have some just quarrel to enter that land,
levied an army with all speed; and preparing all things necessary for
the same, sendeth forth Inguar and Hubba, two brethren, his chief
captains, with an innumerable multitude of Danes, into England; who,
first arriving at Holdernesse, there burnt up the country, and killed
without mercy both men, women, and children whom they could lay hands
upon. Then, marching towards York, entered their battle with the
foresaid Osbright, where he, with the most part of his army, was
slain. And so the Danes entered the possession of the city of York.
Some others say, and it is by the most part of story writers re
corded, that the chief cause of the coming of Inguar and Hubba, with
the Danes, was to be revenged of King Edmund, reigning under the West
Saxons over the East Angles in Norfolke and Suffolke, for the
murdering of a certain Dane, being father to Inguar and Hubba, which
was falsely imputed to King Edmund.
(Illustration: Battle between Danes and Saxons )

In the mean season, King Ethelwolfe, as already noticed in this
chapter, when he had chased the foresaid Danes from place to place,
causing them to take the sea, he, in the mean while, departeth
himself both from land and life, leaving behind him four sons, which
reigned every one his order, after the decease of their father. The
names of whom were Ethelbald, Ethelbright, Ethelred, and Alured.

King Ethelbald, the eldest son of Ethelwolfe, succeeding his father
in the province of Westsax, and Ethelbright in the province of Kent,
reigned both together the term of five years, one with the other.
Ethelbald left this infamy behind him in stories, viz. for marrying
his step-mother, wife to his own father, named Judith. After these
two succeeded Ethelred, the third son, who, in his time, was so
encumbered with the Danes, bursting in on every side, especially
about York, (which city they then spoiled and burnt up,) that he in
one year stood in nine battles against them, with the help of Alured
his brother. In the beginning of this king's reign, the Danes landed
in East England, or Northfolke and Suffolke. But (as Fabian writeth)
they were compelled to forsake that country, and so took again
shipping, and sailed northward, and landed in Northumberland, where
they were met of the kings then there reigning, called Osbright and
Ella, which gave to them a strong fight. But, notwithstanding, the
Danes, with the help of such as inhabited the country, won the city
of York, and held it a certain season, as is above premised.

In the reign of this Ethelred the Northumberlanders, rebelling
against the king, thought to recover again the former state of their
kingdom out of the West Saxons' hand; by reason of which discord (as
happeneth in all lands where dissension is) the strength of the
English nation was not a little weakened, and the Danes the more
thereby prevailed.

About the latter time of the reign of this Ethelred, which was about
the year of our Lord 870, certain of the foresaid Danes, being thus
possessed of the north country, (after their cruel persecution and
murder done there, as partly is touched before,) took shipping from
thence, intending to sail toward the East Angles, who by the way upon
the sea met with a fleet of Danes, whereof the captains or leaders
were named Inguar and Hubba; who, joining together in one counsel,
made all one course, and lastly landed in East England, or
Northfolke, and in process of time came to Thetford. Thereof hearing
Edmund, then under-king of that province, assembled a host that gave
to them battle. But Edmund and his company was forced to forsake the
field; and the king with a few persons fled unto the castle of
Framingham, whom the Danes pursued. But he in short while after
yielded himself to the persecution of the Danes; answering in this
manner to the messenger, that told him in the name of Inguar, prince
of the Danes, which most victo riously (saith he) was come with
innumerable le gions, subduing both by sea and land many nations unto
him; and so, now arrived in those parts, requireth him likewise to
submit himself, yielding to him his hid treasures, and such other
goods of his ancestors, and so to reign under him; which thing, if he
would not do, he should (said he) be judged unworthy both of life and
reign. Edmund, hearing of this proud message of the pagan, consulted
with certain of his friends: and, among others, with one of his
bishops, who was then his secretary; who, seeing the present danger
of the king, gave him counsel to yield to the conditions, Upon this
the king pausing a little with himself, at length rendered this
answer; bidding the messenger go tell his lord in these words, that
Edmund, a Christian king, for the love of temporal life, will not
submit himself to a pagan duke, unless he before would be a
Christian. Incontinent upon the same, the wicked and crafty Dane,
approaching in most hasty speed upon the king, encountered with him
in battle (as some say) at Thetford, where the king, being put to the
worse, and pitying the terrible slaughter of his men, thinking with
himself rather to submit his own person to danger than his people
should be slain, did fly (as Fabian saith) to the castle of
Framingham, or, (as mine author writeth,) to Halesdon, now called St.
Edmundsbury, where this blessed man, being on every side compassed of
his cruel enemies, yielded himself to their persecution. And for that
he would not reny or deny Christ and his laws, they therefore most
cruelly bound him unto a tree, and caused him to be shot to death;
and, lastly, caused his head to be smitten from his body, and cast
into the thick bushes which head and body at the same time by his
friends was taken up, and solemnly buried at the said Halesdon,
otherwise now named St. Edmundsbury. Whose brother, named Edwoldus.
notwithstanding of right the kingdom fell next unto him,) setting
apart the liking and pleasure of the world, became a hermit at the
abbey of Cerum, in the county of Dorset.
(Illustration: The Death of St. Edmund )

After the martyrdom of this blessed Edmund, when the cruel Danes had
sufficiently robbed and spoiled that country, they took again their
ships, and landed in Southery, and continued their journey till they
came to the town of Reading, and there won the town with the castle,
where, (as Cambrensis saith,) within three days of their coming
thither, the foresaid Inguar and Hubba, captains of the Danes, as
they went in purchasing of their preys or booties, were slain at a
place called Englefleld. Which princes of the Danes thus slain, the
rest of them kept whole together, in such wise that the West Saxons
might take of them none advantage. But yet within few days after the
Danes were holden so short, that they were forced to issue out of the
castle, and to defend themselves in plain battle. In the which (by
the industry of King Ethelred and of Alured his brother) the Danes
were discomfited, and many of them slain; which discomfit made them
fly again into the castle, and there he kept them for a certain time.
The king then, committing the charge of them to Ethelwold, duke of
Baroke, or Barkshire, so departed. But when the Danes knew of the
king's departure, they brake suddenly out of their hold, and took the
duke improvided, and slew him, and much of his people. And so.
adjoining themselves with others that were scattered in the country,
embattled them in such wise, that of them was gathered a strong host.

As the tidings hereof was brought unto King Ethelred, (which put him
in great heaviness,) word also was brought the same time of the
landing of Osrike, king of Denmark, who, with assistance of the other
Danes, had gathered a great host, and were embattled upon Ashdon. To
this battle King Ethelred, with his brother Alured, (forced by great
need,) sped themselves to withstand the Danes. At which time the king
a little staying behind, being yet at his service, Alured, which was
come in before, had entered already into the whole fight with the
Danes, who struck together with huge violence. The king being
required to make speed, (he being then at service and meditations,)
such was his devotion, that he would not stir out one foot before
their service was fully complete. In this mean while the Danes so
fiercely invaded Alured and his men, that they won the hill; and the
Christian men were in the valley, and in great danger to lose the
whole field. Nevertheless, through the grace of God, and their godly
manhood, the king, coming from his service with his fresh soldiers,
recovered the hill of the infidels, and so discomfited the Danes that
day, that in flying away not only they lost the victory. but most
part also of them their lives. Insomuch that their duke, or king,
Osrike, or Osege, and five of their dukes, with much of their people,
were slain, and the rest chased unto Reading town.

After this the Danes yet reassembled their people, and gathered a new
host; so that within fifteen days they met at Basingstoke, and there
gave battle unto the king, and had the better. Then the king again
gathered his men, which at that field were dispersed, and, with fresh
soldiers to them accompanied, met the Danes within two months after
at the town of Merton, where he gave them a sharp battle; so that
much people were slain as well of the Christians as of the Danes, but
in the end the Danes had the honour of the field, and King Ethelred
was wounded, and therefore fain to save himself.

After these two fields thus won by the Danes, they obtained great
circuit of ground, and destroyed man and child that would not yield
to them. And churches and temples they turned to the use of stables,
and other vile occupations.

Thus the king, being beset with enemies on every side, seeing the
land so miserably oppressed of the Danes, his knights and soldiers
consumed, his own land of West Saxons in such desolation, he being
also wounded himself, but specially for that he, sending his
commissions into Northumberland, into Mercia, and East Anglia, could
have of them but small or little comfort, (because they through
wicked rebellion were more willing to take the part of the Danes than
of their king,) was sore perplexed therewithal, as other kings were
both before him and after him at that time. So that, as Malmesbury
witnesseth, they rather wished honestly to die, than with such
trouble and sorrow to reign. And thus this king not long after
deceased, when he had reigned (as Fabian saith) eight years, or, as
Malmes bury writeth, but five years. During which time,
notwithstanding his so great troubles and vexations in martial
affairs, (as is in some stories mentioned,) he founded the house or
college of canons at Excester, and was buried at the abbey of
Winborne, or Woborne. After whose decease, for lack of issue of his
body, the rule of the land fell unto his brother Alured.



23. ALFRED THE GREAT

Among the Saxon kings hitherto in this story afore mentioned, I find
few or none to be preferred (or almost to be compared) to this
Alured, or Alfred, for the great and singular qualities in this king,
worthy of high renown and commendation; whether we behold in him the
valiant acts and manifold travails which he continually from time to
time sustained against his enemies in wars, during almost all the
time of his reign, for the public preservation of his people: or
whether we consider in him his godly and excellent virtues, joined
with a public and tender care, and a zealous study for the common
peace and tranquillity or the weal public; appearing as well in his
prudent laws by him both carefully set forth, and with the like care
executed, as also by his own private exercises touching the virtuous
institution of his life: or, lastly, whether we respect that in him
which, with equal praise, matches with both the other before; that
is, his notable knowledge of good letters, with a fervent love and
princely desire to set forth the same through all his realm, before
his time both rude and barbarous. All which his heroical properties
joined together in one prince, as it is a thing most rare, and seldom
seen in princes now-a-days; so I thought the same the more to be
noted and exemplified in this good king, thereby either to move other
rulers and princes in these our days to his imitation, or else to
show them what hath been in times past in their ancestors, which
ought to be. and yet is not, found in them. Wherefore of these three
parts, to discourse either part in order, first, we will begin to
treat of his acts and painful travails sustained in defence of the
realm public, against the raging tyranny of the Danes, as they be
described in the Latin histories of Roger Hoveden and Huntington;
whom Fabian also seemeth in this part some what to follow. King
Alfred. therefore, the first of all the English kings, taking his
crown and unction at Rome of Pope Leo the Fourth, (as Malmesbury and
Polychronicon do record,) in the beginning of his reign, perceiving
his lords and people much wasted and decayed by the reason of the
great wars of Ethelred, had against the Danes, yet as well as he
could gathered a strength of men unto him, and in the seconnd month
that he was made king he met with the Danes beside Wilton, where he
gave them battle. But being far overmatched, through the multitude of
the contrary part, was put there to the worse, although not without a
great slaughter of the pagan army. Which army of the Danes, after
that victory, by compaction made with King Alfred to depart out of
his dominion of Westsax, removed from Reading to London, where they
abode all that winter; where Halden, their king, truce with Burthred,
king of Mercians, the next year following voided those parts, and
drew to Lindsey, robbing and spoiling the towns and villages as they
went, and holding the common people under their servage. From thence
after to Repingdon, where they, joining with the three other kings of
the Danes, (called Surdrim, Osketell, and Hamond,) grew thereby in
mighty force and strength. Who, then dividing their army in two
parts, the one half remained with Halden in the country of
Northumberland, the residue were with the other three kings,
wintering and sojourning all the next year at Grantbridge, which was
the fourth year of King Alfred. In the which year King Alfred and his
men had a conflict on the sea with six of the Danes' ships, of which
one they took, the other fled away. In this year went Rollo the Dane
into Normandy, where he was duke thirty years, and afterward was
baptized in the faith of Christ, and named Robert. The foresaid army
of the three Dane kings above mentioned from Grantbridge returned
again to West Saxony, and entered the castle of Warrham; where Alfred
with a sufficient power of men was ready to assault them. But the
Danes, seeing his strength, durst not attempt with him, but sought
delays whiles more aid might come. In the mean season, they were
constrained to entreat for a truce; leaving also sufficient pledges
in the king's hand, promising moreover upon their oath to void the
country of the West Saxons. The king, upon the surety, let them go.
But they, falsely breaking their league, privily in the night brake
out, taking their journey toward Excester. In which journey they lost
sixscore of their small ships by a tempest at Sandwich (as Henry
Huntington in his story recordeth). Then King Alfred followed after
the horsemen of the Danes, but could not overtake them before they
came to Excester, where he took of them pledges and fair promises of
peace, and so returned. Notwithstanding the number of the pagans did
daily more and more increase, insomuch (as one of my authors saith)
that if in one day thirty thousand of them were slain, shortly after
they increased double as many again. After this truce taken with King
Alfred, the Danes then voided to the land of Mercia; part of that
kingdom they kept themselves, part they committed to one Ceolulphus,
upon condition that he should be vassal to them, and at their
commandment, with his people, at all times.

The next year ensuing, which was the seventh year of the reign of
Alfred, the Danes now having all the rule of the north part of
England, from the river Thames, with Mercia, London, and Essex,
disdained that Alfred should bear any dominion on the other side of
Thames southward. Whereupon the foresaid three kings, with all the
forces and strength they could make, marched toward Chippenham in
Westsex with such a multitude, that the king with his people was not
able to resist them; insomuch that the people which inhabited there,
some fled over the sea, some remained with the king, divers submitted
themselves to the Danes. Thus Alfred, being overset with multitude of
enemies, and forsaken of his people, having neither land to hold, nor
hope to recover that which he had lost, withdrew himself, with a few
of his nobles about him, into a certain wood country in
Sommersetshire, called Etheling; where he had right scant to live
with, but such as he and his people might purchase by hunting and
fishing. This Edeling, or Etheling, or Ethelingsey, standeth in a
great marsh or moor, so that there is no access unto it without ship
or boat, and hath in it a great wood called Selwood, and in the
middle a little plain, about two acres of ground, in which isle is
venison, and other wild beasts, with fowl and fishes, great plenty.
In this wood King Alfred at his first coming espied a certain desert
cottage of a poor swineherd, keeping swine in the wood, named
Punwolphus; by whom the king then unknown was entertained and
cherished with such poor fare as he and his wife could make him. For
the which King Alfred afterward set the poor swineherd to learning,
and made him bishop of Winchester.
(Illustration: King Alfred and the Cakes )

In the mean season, while King Alfred accompanied with a few was thus
in the desert wood, waiting the event of these miseries, certain
stories record of a poor beggar, which there came and asked his alms
of the king. And the night following he appeared to the king in his
sleep, saying his name was Cutbert, promising (as sent from God unto
him for his good charity) great victories against the Danes. But to
let these dreaming fables pass, although they be testified by divers
authors. Notwithstanding the king in process of time was strengthened
and comforted more, through the providence of God, respecting the
miserable ruin of the Englishmen. First, the brother of King Halden
the Dane before mentioned, coming in with three and thirty ships,
landed about Devonshire; where by chance being resisted by a bushment
of King Alfred's men, (who for their safeguard there lay in
garrison,) were slain to the number of one thousand three hundred
men, and their ensign called the raven was taken. Hovedenus in his
book of Continuationes writeth, that in the same conflict both Inguar
and Hubba were slain among the other Danes. After this, King Alfred
being better cheered, showed himself more at large; so that daily
resorted to him men of Wiltshire, Somersetshire, and Hampshire, till
that be was strongly acconnpanied.

Then the king put himself in a bold and dangerous venture. For he,
apparelling him in the habit of a minstrel, (as he was very skilful
in all Saxon poems,) with his instrument of music entered into the
tents of the Danes, lying then at Eddendun; and in showing there his
interlude and songs, espied all their sloth and idleness, and heard
much of their counsel; and after, returning to his company, declared
unto them the whole manner of the Danes. Shortly upon the same, the
king suddenly in the night fell upon the foresaid Danes, and
distressed and slew of them a great multitude, chased them from that
coast, Insomuch that through his strong and valiant assaults upon his
enemies, out of his tower of Edeing newly fortified, he so encumbered
them, that he clearly voided the country of them between that and
Selwood. His subjects eftsoons, hearing of these his valiant
victories and manful deeds, drew to him daily out of all coasts; who,
through the help of God, and their assistance, held the Danes so
short, that he won from them Winchester, and divers other good towns.
Briefly, at length he forced them to seek for peace; the which was
concluded upon certain covenants. Whereof one and the principal was,
that the forenamed Gutrum their king should be christened. The other
was, that such as would not be christened should depart and void the
country.

Upon these covenants, first, the said Gutrum, the Danish prince,
coming to Winchester, was there christened with twenty of his
greatest dukes or nobles. Which Gutrum, King Alfred being his
godfather at his baptism, named him Athelstan; who, after a certain
season that he had feasted the said Danes, he, according to his
promise before made, gave unto their king the country of East An
glia, containing Northfolke and Suffolke, and part of Cambridgeshire.
Moreover, (as saith Polychronicon,) he granted to the Danes that were
christened the country of Northumberland. So the residue that would
not be christened departed the land, and sailed into France; where
what vexation and harm they wrought the chronicles of France do
partly comprehend.

King Athelstan thus having the possession of these countries, had all
East Angles under his obedience. And albeit that he held the same
province as in fee of the king, and promised to dwell there as his
liege man; yet that notwithstanding be continued more like a tyrant,
by the term of eleven years, and died in the twelfth year. During the
which space King Alfred, having some more rest and peace, repaired 
certain towns and strongholds afore by the Danes impaired. Also he
builded divers houses of religion, as the house of nuns at
Shaftesbury. Another religious house at Etheling he founded. Another
in Winchester, named the New Monastery. He endowed richly the church
of St. Cuthbert in Durham. He sent also to India to pay and perform
his vows to St. Thomas of Inde, which he made during the time of his
distress against the Danes.

About the fifteenth year of the reign of Alfred the Danes, returning
from France to England, landed in Kent, and so came to Rochester, and
besieged that city; and there lay so long, that they builded a tower
of timber against the gates of the city. But by strength of the
citizens that tower was destroyed, and the city defended, till King
Alfred came and rescued them. Whereby the Danes were so distressed,
and so near trapped, that, for fear, they left their horses behind
them, and fled to their ships by night. But the king, when he was
thereof aware, sent after them, and took sixteen of their ships, and
slew many of the said Danes. This done, the king returned to London,
and repaired the same honourably, (as saith Hovedenus,) and made it
habitable, which before was sore decayed and feebled by the Danes.

The third year after this, which was the nineteenth year of the reign
of King Alfred, the foresaid Athelstan, the Danish king of Northfolk,
(which by Alfred was christened before,) deceased. Not long after
this, about the one and twentieth year of this king's reign, the
Danes again landed in four places of this land; which was in East
England, in the North, and in the West in two places. Before the
landing of these Danes, it chanced King Alfred, hearing of the death
of King Athelstan, and of other complaints of the Danes, was then in
East England when these tidings came to him.

When King Alfred was hereof ascertained, forso much as some of the
Danes were landed in that coast, thinking with themselves the further
they went in those parts the less resistance to have, and the more
speed, as they were wont to have before; Alfred, therefore, sending
messengers in all haste to Ethelred, duke of Mercia, to assemble to
him a host to withstand the Danes which landed in the West, made 
forth toward his enemies there, where he was in East Anglia, whom be
pursued so sharply, that he drove them out from those parts. They
then landed in Kent, whither the king with his people sped him, and
in like manner drove the Danes from thence, without any great fight,
so far as in our authors we can see. After this, again the Danes took
shipping, and sailed into North Wales, and there robbed and spoiled
the Britons, and from thence returned by the sea into East Anglia,
with a hundred ships, and there rested them, forsomuch as the king
then was gone westward.

The fourth host of the Danes the same year came to Chester, which at
length they won; but then the country adjoining pressed so sore upon
them, and besieged them so long, keeping themselves within the city,
that at the last the Danes, wearied with the long siege, were
compelled to eat their own horses for hunger. But by appointment at
last they gave over the town, and went about by North Wales to
Northumberland, which was about the three and twentieth year of King
Alfred; which Alfred in the mean while with his host sped him
thitherward. Then the Danes, leaving their strong holds and castles,
garnished with men and victual, took again shipping, and set their
course in such wise that they landed in Sussex, and so came to the
port of Lewes; and from thence toward London, and builded a tower or
castle near unto the river of Luy, twenty miles from London. But the
Londoners, hearing thereof, manned out a certain number of men of
arms, who, with the assistance of them of that country, put the Danes
from that tower, and after beat it down to the ground. Soon after the
king came down thither, and, to prevent the dangers that might ensue,
commanded the river of Luy to be divided in three streams; so that
where a ship might sail in times before, there a little boat might
scantly row. From thence the Danes, leaving their ships and wives,
were forced to fly that country, and took their way again toward
Wales, and came to Quadruge, near to the river of Severn; where upon
the borders thereof they builded them a castle, there resting
themselves for a time, whom the king eftsoons with his army pursued.
In the mean time, the Londoners at Luy, taking the Danes' ships, some
of them they brought to London, the rest they fired. During all these
three years, from the first coming of the Danes to Luy, England was
afflicted with three manner of sorrows; with the Danes, with
pestilence of men, and murrain of beasts. Notwithstanding which
troubles the king manfully resisted the malice of his enemies, and
thanked God always, what trouble soever fell to him, or unto his
realm, and sustained it with great patience and humility. These three
years overpast, the next following, which was the eight and twentieth
of the reign of Alfred, the Danes divided their host, of whom part
went to Northumberland, some to North folke, part sailed over to
France, some other came to Westsax, where they had divers conflicts
with the Englishmen, both by land, and especially upon the sea; of
whom some were slain, many perished by shipwreck, divers others were
taken and banged, and thirty of their ships were taken.

Not long after this, King Alfred, when he had reigned nine and twenty
years and six months, changed this mortal life. And thus much (and
more peradventure than will seem to this our ecclesiastical history
appertaining) touching the painful labours and travails of this good
king; which he no less valiantly achieved than patiently sustained
for the necessary defence of his realm and subjects.

Now if there be any prince who listeth to see and follow the virtuous
and godly disposition of this king, both touching the institution of
his own life, and also concerning his careful government of the
commonwealth, thus the histories of him do record: That at what time
he being young, perceiving himself somewhat disposed to the vice of
the flesh, and thereby letted from many virtuous purposes, did not as
many young princes and kings' sons in the world be now wont to do,
that is, to resolve themselves into all kind of carnal licence and
dissolute sensuality, running and following without bridle
whithersoever their licence given doth lead them (as therefore not
without cause the common proverb reporteth of them, that kings' sons
learn nothing else well but only to ride). Meaning thereby, that
while princes and kings' sons, having about them flatterers, who
bolster them in their faults, only their horses give to them no more
than to any other; but if they sit not fast, they will cast them. But
this young king, seeing in himself the inclination of his fleshly
nature, minding not to give himself so much as he might take, but
rather by resistance to avoid the temptation thereof, besought God
that he would send to him some continual sickness, in quenching of
that vice, whereby he might be more profitable to the public business
of the commonwealth, and more apt to serve God in his calling.

Moreover, to behold the bountiful goodness joined with like prudence
in this man, in the ordering and disposing his riches and rents, it
is not unworthily to be recited how he divided his goods in two equal
parts; the one appertaining to uses secular, the other to uses
spiritual or ecclesiastical. Of the which two principal parts the
first he divided into three portions: the first to the behoof of his
house and family; the second upon the workmen and builders of his new
works, whereof he had great delight and cunning; the third upon
strangers. Likewise the other second half upon spiritual uses he did
thus divide in four portions: one to the relieving of the poor;
another to the monasteries; the third portion to the schools of
Oxford, for the maintaining of good letters; the fourth be sent to
foreign churches without the realm. This also is left in stories
written to his commendation for his great tolerance and sufferance,
that when be had builded the new monastery at Winchester, and
afterward his son Edward had purchased of the bishop and the chapter
a sufficient piece of ground for certain offices to be adjoined unto
the same, and had given for every foot of ground marcam auri pleni
pendens, (which was, as I think, a mark of gold or more,) yet Alfred
therewithal was not greatly discontented to see his coffers so
wasted.

Over and besides, how sparing and frugal he was of time, (as of a
thing in this earth most precious,) and how far from all vain
pastimes and idleness he was, this doth well declare, which in the
story of William de Reg. and other writers is told of him. That he so
divided the day and night in three parts, if he were not let by wars
and other great business, that eight hours be spent in study and
learning, and other eight hours he spent in prayer and almsdeeds, and
other eight hours he spent in his natural rest, sustenance of his
body, and the needs of the realm. The which order he kept duly by the
burning of waxen tapers kept in his closet by certain persons for the
same purpose.

How studious he was, and careful of the commonwealth, and maintenance
of public tranquillity, his laws most godly set forth and devised by
him may declare. Wherein especially by him was provided for the
extirpating and abolishing of all theft and thieves out of the realm.
Whereby the realm through his vigilant care was brought into such
tranquillity, or rather perfection, that in every cross or turning
way he made to be set up a golden brooch, at least of silver gilded,
through his dominions, and none so hardy neither by day nor night to
take it down. And no great marvel therein, if the realm in those days
was brought into such an order, and that justice then was so well
ministered, when the king himself was so vigilant in overseeing the
doings of his judges and officers. He was a vigilant inquisitor of
the doings of his judges, and a strict punisher of their misdoings.
He did diligently search out the doings of his officers, and
especially of his judges; so that if he knew any of them to err,
either through covetousness or unskilfulness, them he removed from
their office.

And thus much concerning the valiant acts and noble virtues of this
worthy prince, whereunto, although there were no other ornaments
adjoining besides, yet sufficient were they alone to set forth a
prince worthy excellent commendation. Now besides these other
qualities and gifts of God's grace in him above mentioned, remaineth
another part of his no little praise and commendation, which is his
learning and knowledge of good letters, whereof he not only was
excellently expert himself, but also a worthy maintainer of the same
through all his dominions, where before no use of grannmar or other
sciences was practised in this realm, especially about the west parts
of the land, where, through the industry of the king, schools began
to be erected and studies to flourish. Although among the Britons, in
the town of Chester in South Wales, long before that, in King
Arthur's time, as Galfridus writeth, both grammar and philosophy,
with other tongues, was then taught. After that some writers record,
that in the time of Egbert, king of Kent, this island began to
flourish with philosophy. About which time some also think that the
university of Grantchester, near to that which now is called
Cambridge, began to be founded by Beda; following this conjecture
therein, for that Alcuinus, (before mentioned,) which after went to
Rome, and from thence to France, in the time of Charles the Great,
where he first began the university of Paris, was first trained up in
the exercise of studies at the same school of Grantchester. Beda,
writing also of Sigebert, king of East Angles, deelareth how the said
Sigebert, returning out of France into England, (according to the
examples which he did there see,) ordered and disposed schools of
learning, through the means of Felix, then bishop, and placed in them
masters and teachers, after the use and manner of the Cantuarits. And
yet before these times, moreover, it is thought that there were two
schools or universities within the realm; the one Greek, at the town
of Greglade, which afterward was called Kirklade; the other for
Latin, which place was then called Latinlade, afterward Lethelade,
near to Oxford.

But howsoever it chanced that the knowledge and study of good
letters, being once planted in this realm, afterward went to decay;
yet King Alfred deserveth no little praise for restoring or rather
increasing the same. After whose time they have ever since continued,
albeit not continually through every age in like perfection. But this
we may see, what it is to have a prince learned himself, who, feeling
and tasting the price and value of science and knowledge, is thereby
not only the more apt to rule, but also to instruct and frame his
subjects, from a rude barbarity to a more civil congruency of life,
and to a better understanding of things, as we see in this famous
prince to happen. Concerning whose first education and bringing up,
although it was somewhat late before he entered any letter, yet such
was the apt towardness and docility of his nature, that, being a
child, he had the Saxon poems (such as were used then in his own
tongue) by heart and memory. Who afterwards with years and time grew
up in such perfection of learning and knowledge, insomuch that (as
mine author saith) nullus Anglonum fuerit vel intelligendo acutior,
vel interpretando elegantior. The which thing in him the more was to
be marvelled, for that he was twelve years of age before he knew any
letter. Then his mother, careful and tender over him, having by
chance a book in her hand, which he would fain have, promised to give
him the same, so that he would learn it. Whereupon he, for greediness
of the book, eftsoons learned the letters, having to his schoolmaster
Pleimundus, after bishop of Canterbury. And so daily grew he more and
more in knowledge, that at length, as mine author saith, a great part
of the Latin library he translated into English, converting to the
uses of his citizens a notable prey of foreign ware and merchandise,
&c. Of which books by him and through him translated was Orosius,
Pastorale Gregoril, the History of Beda, Boetius de Consolatione
Philosophiæ. Also a book of his own making and in his own tongue,
which in the English speech he called a Hand-book, in Greek called it
Enchiridion, in Latin a Manual. Besides the History of Beda
translated into the Saxons' tongue, he also himself compiled a story
in the same speech, called The Story of Alfred, &c., which both books
in the Saxons' tongue I have seen, though the language I do not
understand. And as he was learned himself excellently well, so
likewise did he inflame all his countrymen to the love of liberal
letters, as the words of the story reporteth. He exhorted and stirred
his people to the study of learning, some with gifts, some by
threats; suffering no man to aspire to any dignity in the court
except he were learned. Moreover, another story thus saith, speaking
of hs nobles: Also his nobles so much he did allure to the embracing
of good letters, that they set all their sons to school; or if they
had no sons, yet their servants they caused to be learned. Whereby
the common proverb may be found not so common as true; Such as is the
prince, such be the subjects. He began moreover to translate the
Psalter in English, and had almost finished the same, had not death
prevented him. In the prologue of the book entitled Pastorale Grego,
thus he writeth; declaring the cause why he was so earnest and
diligent in translating good books from Latin into English, showing
the cause thereof why he so did, as followeth: The cause was, for
that innumerable ancient libraries, which were kept in churches, were
consumed with fire by the Danes; and that men had rather suffer peril
of their life than to follow the exercises of studies; and therefore
he thought thereby to provide for the people of the English nation,
&c.

It is told of him, both in Polychronicon, Malmesbury, Jornalensis,
and other stories more, whereof I have no names, that he, seeing his
country (namely, westward) to be so desolate of schools and learning,
partly to profit himself, partly to furnish his country and subjects
with better knowledge, first sent for Grimbaldus, a learned monk, out
of France, to come into England. Also he sent for another learned man
out from the parts of Wales, whose name was Asserion, whom he made
bishop of Shireborne. Item, out of Mercia he sent for Werefrithus,
bishop of Worcester, to whom he put the Dialogues of Gregory to be
translated. But chiefly he used the counsel of Neotus, who then was
counted for a holy man, an abbot of a certain monastery in Cornwall.
By the advisement of which Neotus he sent for these learned men above
recited; and also ordained certain schools of divers arts, first at
Oxford, and also franchised the same with many great liberties.
Whereof perhaps the school, now called the New College, (first then
begun of this Neotus,) might take his name; which afterward
peradventure the bishops of Winchester after a larger manner did re-
edify and enlarge with greater possessions.

Moreover, among other learned men which were about King Alfred,
histories make mention of Johannes Scotus, (a godly divine, and a
learned phi losopher,) but not that Scotus whom now we call Duns. For
that Johannes Scotus came after this many years. This Johannes is
described to be of a sharp wit, of great eloquence, and well expert
in the Greek tongue, pleasant and merry of nature and conditions, as
appeareth by divers his doings and answers. First, he, coming to
France out of his own country of Scotland, by reason of the great
tumults of war, was there worthily entertained, and for his learning
had in great estimation of Carolus Calvus the French king; whom he
commonly and familiarly used ever to have about him, both at table
and in chamber. Upon a time, the king sitting at meat, and seeing
something (belike in this John Scot) which seemed not very courtly,
cast forth a merry word, asking of him what difference there was
betwixt a Scot and sot. Whereunto the Scot, sitting over against the
king somewhat lower, replied again suddenly, rather than advisedly,
(yet merrily,) saying, Mensa tantum, that is, The table only;
importing thereby himself to be the Scot, and so calling the king a
sot by craft. Which word how other princes would have taken of
stomach I know not; but this Charles, for the great reverence he bare
to his learning, turned it but to a laughter among his nobles, and so
let it pass.

Another time the same king, being at dinner, was served with a
certain dish of fish, wherein were two great fishes and a little one.
After the king had taken thereof his repast, setting down to Johannes
Scotus the foresaid fish, to distribute unto the other two clerks,
sitting there with him; which were two tall and mighty persons, he
himself being but a little man. Johannes taketh the fish, of the
which the two great he taketh and carveth to himself; the little fish
he reacheth to the other two. The king perceiving his division thus
made, reprehended the same. Then Jobannes, whose manner was ever to
find out some honest matter to delight the king, answered to him
again, proving his division to stand just and equal. For here (saith
he) be two great and a little, pointing to the two great fishes and
himself; and likewise here again is a little one and two great,
pointing to the little fish and two great persons. I pray you, (saith
he,) what odds is there, or what distribution can be more equal?
Whereat the king with his nobles being much delighted laughed
merrily.

At the request of this Charles, surnamed Bald, the French king, this
Scotus translated the book of Dionysius, entitled De Hierarchia, from
Greek into Latin, word for word. He wrote also a book On the Body and
Blood of the Lord, which was afterward condemned by the pope.

The same Johannes Scotus, moreover, compiled a book of his own,
giving it a Greek title, ???? f?s???? da??ede? [ec greek] that is,
Concerning Natural Distinctions. In which book (as saith my foresaid
author) is contained the resolution of many profitable questions; but
so that he is thought to follow the Greek church rather than the
Latin, and for the same was counted of some to he a heretic, because
in that book some things there be which in all points accord not with
the Romish religion. Wherefore the pope, writing to the said King
Charles of this Scotus, complaineth, as in his own words here
followeth:

Relation hath been made unto our apostleship, that a certain man,
called Johannes, a Scottishman, hath translated the book of Dionysius
the Areopagite, of the names of God, and of the heavenly orders, from
Greek into Latin. Which book, according to the custom of the church,
ought first to have been approved by our judgment; namely, seeing the
said John (albeit he be said to be a man of great learning and
science) in time past hath been noted by common rumour to have been a
man not of upright or sound doctrine in certain points, &c. For this
cause the said Scotus, being constrained to remove from France, came
into England, allured (as some testify) by the letters of Alured or
Alfred, of whom he was with great favour en tertained and conversant
a great space about the king, till at length (whether before or after
the death of the king it is uncertain) he went to Malmesbury, where
he taught certain scholars a few years; by the which scholars at last
most im piously he was murdered and slain with their penknives, and
so died, as stories say, a martyr, buried at the said monastery of
Malmesbury.

King Alfred, having these helps of learned men about him, and no less
learned also himself, passed over his time not only to great utility
and profit of his subjects, but also to a rare and profitable example
of other Christian kings and princes for them to follow. This
foresaid Alfred had by his wife, called Ethelwitha, two sons, Edward
and Ethelward; and three daughters, Elfleda, Ethelgora, and
Ethelguida; whom he set all to their books and study of liberal arts,
as my story testifieth. First, Edward his eldest son succeeded him in
the kingdom; the second son Ethelward died before his father;
Ethelgora, his middle daughter, was made a nun; the other two were
married; the one in Merceland, the other to the earl of Flanders.
Thus King Alfred, the valiant, virtuous, and learned prince, after he
had thus Christianly governed the realm the term of nine and twenty
years and six months, departed this life, Nov., and lieth buried at
Winchester, A.D. 901. Of whom this I find moreover greatly noted and
commended in history, and not here to be forgotten, for the rare
example thereof, touching this Alfred, that wheresoever he was, or
whithersoever he went, he bare always about him in his bosom or
pocket a little book containing the Psalms of David, and certain
other orisons of his own collecting. Whereupon he was continually
reading or praying whensoever he was otherwise vacant, having leisure
thereunto,

In the story of this Alfred, a little above mention was made of
Pleimundus, schoolmaster to the said Alfred, and also bishop of
Canterbury, succeeding Etheredus, there bishop before him; which
Pleimundus governed that see the number of thirty and four years.
After Pleimundus succeeded Athelmus, and sat twelve years. After him
came Ulfelmus thirteen years. Then followed Odo, a Dane, born in the
said see of Canterbury, and governed the same twenty years, being in
great favour with King Ethelstan, King Edmund, and Edwin, as in
process hereafter, (Christ willing,) as place and order doth require,
shall more at large be expressed.



23. KING EDWARD THE ELDER

After the reign of the famous King Alfred, his son Edward succeeded,
surnamed the Elder; where first is to be noted, that before the
conquest of the Normans, there were in England three Edwards: first,
this Edward the Elder; secondly, Edward the Martyr; third, Edward the
Confessor; whereof hereafter (by the grace of Christ) shall follow in
order, as place shall give to be declared. This Edward began his
reign the year of our Lord 901, and governed the land right valiantly
and nobly four and twenty years. In knowledge of good letters, and
learning he was not to be compared to his father, otherwise in
princely renown, in civil government, and such-like martial prowess,
he was nothing inferior, but rather excelled him; through whose
valiant acts first the princcdom of Wales and kingdom of Scotland,
with Constantine, king thereof, were to him subdued. He adjoined
moreover to his dominion the country of East Anglia, that is, of
Norfolke, Suffolke, and Essex. All Merceland also he recovered, and
Northumberland, out of the hands of the Danes. In all his wars he
never lightly went without victory. The subjects of his provinces and
dominions were so inured and hardened in continual practice and feats
of war, that when they heard of any enemies coming, (never tarrying
for any bidding from the king or from his dukes,) straightways they
encountered with them, both in number and in knowledge of the order
of war excelling always their adversaries. So was the coming and
assaulting of their enemies to the people and common soldiers but a
trifle, and to the king only derision. Among other adversaries which
were busy, rather than wise, in assailing this king, was one called
Clito Ethelwoldus. a young man, King Edward's uncle's son, who first
occupying the town of Winborne, (taking thence a nun with him, whom
then he had married,) fled by night to Northumberland, to adjoin
himself unto the Danes, who was made chief king and captain over
them. Then, chased from thence, he fled over into France; but
shortly, returning again into England, he landed in East England,
where the said Clito, with a company of Danes of that country
gathered to him, destroyed and pillaged much of the country about
Crekinford and Crikeland. And so passing over Thames, after he had
spoiled the land there to Bradenstocke, returned again to Norfolk and
Suffolke, where he, meeting with an ambushment of Kentishmen, which
dragged and tarried after the main host of Edward, contrary to his
commandment, enclosed them in, and slew the most part of them. Soon
after the two hosts, meeting together between the two ditches of St.
Edmund's land, after a long fight, Clito with many of the Danes were
slain, and the remnant were constrained to seek for peace, which upon
certain conditions and under a tribute was to them granted.

In process, about the twelfth year of his reign, the Danes repenting
them of their covenants, and minding to break the same, assembled a
host, and met with the king in Staffordshire, at a place called
Totenhall, and soon after at Wodnefield, at which two places the king
slew two kings, two earls, and many thousands of Danes that occupied
the country of Northumberland.

Thus the importunate rage of the Danes being assuaged, King Edward
having now some leisure given from wars to other studies, gave his
mind to the building or repairing of cities, towns, and castles, that
by the Danes were razed, shattered, and broken. As first of Chester,
which city he double enlarged to that it was before, compassing the
castle within the walls of the same, which before stood without. That
done, the king builded a strong castle at Hereford, in the edge of
Wales. Also, for the strengthening of the country, he made a castle
at the mouth of the water of Aven, and an other castle at Buckingham,
and the third fast thereby upon the river of Ouse. Moreover, he
builded or re-edified the towns of Tocester and Wigmor, and destroyed
the castle that the Danes had made at Demesford. Likewise upon the
river of Trent, against the old town of Nottingham, he builded a new 
town on the south side, and made a bridge over the river between the
said two towns. Also by the river of Merce he builded a city or town
in the north end of Mercia, and named it Thilwall, and after repaired
the city of Manchester, that sore was defaced with wars of the Danes.

In this renewing and building of towns and castles, for the more
fortifying of his realm, his sister Elfleda, daughter of King Alfred,
and married to the duke of Mercia, (as is afore mentioned,) was no
small helper. Of this Elfleda it is firmly of writers affirmed, that
she being (as is said) married to Ethelred, duke of Mercia, after she
had once assayed the pains of women in travailing with her child, so
much she abhorred ever after the embracing of her husband, that it
seemed to her (she said) not seemly for a noblewoman to use such
fleshly liking, whereof so great sorrow and travail should ensue. And
yet, notwithstanding, the same Elfleda, for all her delicate
tenderness in eschewing the natural passion which necessity giveth to
women, was so hardy in warlike dangers which nature giveth not to
women, that, fighting against the Danes, (so venturous she was of
stomach,) four of her next knights, which were guardians of her body,
were slain fast by her. This Elfleda, among her other noble acts,
whereby she deserved praise, was a great helper and stirrer up of her
brother Edward, who builded and newly repaired many castles and
towns, as Tamworth, besides Litchfield, Stafford, Warwike,
Shrewesbury, Watrisbury, Eldsbury, besides Chester in the forest now
destroyed. Also in the north end of Mercia, upon the river of Merce,
a castle called Rimcorne; also a bridge over Severne, named
Brimmisbury bridge.

As touching the laws and statutes of this Edward, as also of his
father Alfred, made before him, I omit here to record them for length
of matter and waste of time; yet, notwithstanding, this admonition by
the way I thing good to note, that in those days of these ancient
kings reigning in England, the authority then both of conferring
bishoprics and spiritual promotions, and also of prescribing laws as
well to the churchmen as to the laity, and of ordering and
intermeddling in matters merely spiritual, was then in the hands of
kings ruling in the land, and not only in the hand of the pope, as
appeareth by the laws of Alfred.

By the laws and other such-like constitutions of King Alfred it
appears, that the governance and direction of the church in those
days depended not upon Monsieur le Pope of Rome, but upon the kings
which here in their time (under the Lord) did govern the land. To
this also the example of King Edward's time gives testimony; which
Edward, with Picimundus, (above mentioned,) archbishop of Canterbury,
and with other bishops in a synod assembled, assigned and elected
seven bishops in seven metropolitan churches of the realm. Which
were, the first Fridelstan, the second Adelstan, the third Werstan,
the fourth Adelelme, the fifth Edulfus, the sixth Dernegus, the
seventh Kenulphus; in which election the king's authority seemed then
alone to be sufficient, &c.

This Edward (as in the beginning was said) reigned twenty-four years,
who had three wives, Egwin, Elfled, and Ethelwid. Of Egwin he had his
eldest son, Adelstan, who next succeeded in the kingdom, and a
daughter, married after to the duke of Northumberland. Of Elfled he
received two sons, to wit, Ethelwald and Edwin, and six daughters.
Ethelwald was excellently well seen in all knowledge of learning,
much resenmbling both in countenance and conditions his grandfather
Alfred, and died soon after his father. Of his six daughters, two of
them, Elfled and Ethelhilda, were made nuns, the other four were
married; Edgina to Charles the French king in his father's time;
Ethilda, by King Ethelstan, was married to Hugo, the son of Duke
Robert. Edgitha and Algina were both sent to Henricus, prince of
Almains. Of which two sisters, the second the said Henricus married
to his son Otho, who was the first emperor of the Almains. The other
sister, which was Edgitha, the foresaid Henricus married unto a
certain duke, about the border of the Alps in Italy. Of his third
wife, Ethelwid, he received two sons, Edmund and Edred, which both
reigned after Adelstan; and two daughters, Egburga, whom he made a
nun, and Eadguina, who was married unto Ludo vicus, prince of
Aquitania in France. These sons and daughters King Edward thus
brought up: his daughters he set to spinning, and to the needle; his
sons he set to the study of learning, to the end, that they, being at
first made philosophers, should be the more expert thereby to govern
the commonwealth.



24. KING ETHELSTAN

Ethelstan, or Adelstan, after the death of Edward his father, began
his reign in England, and was crowned at Kingston. He was a prince of
worthy memory, valiant and wise in all his acts, nothing inferior
unto his father Edward; in like worldly renown of civil government,
joined with much prosperous success, in reducing this realm under the
subjection of one monarchy. For he both expelled the Danes, subdued
the Scots, and quieted the Welchmen, as well in North Wales as also
in Cornwall. The first enemy against this Ethelstan was one Elfredus,
who, with a faction of seditious persons, conspiring against the said
Ethelstan at Winchester, incontinently, after the death of his
father, went about to put out his eyes. Notwithstanding, the king
escaping that danger, through the help of God, was at that time
delivered. Elfred upon the same being accused, fled to Rome, there
before the pope to purge himself by his oath. Who being brought to
the church of St. Peter, and there swearing (or rather forswearing)
himself to be clear, which indeed was guilty thereof, suddenly upon
his oath fell down; and so being brought to the English house in
Rome, within three days after departed. The pope sending word unto
King Ethelstan, whether he would have the said Elfred buried among
Christians or no? at length, through the persuasions of his friends
and kinsfolks, it was concluded that he should be buried in Christian
burial. This story, although I find it in no other writers mentioned,
but only in the Chronicles of Guliel. lib. de Regib., yet forsomuch
as it beareth the witness and words of the king himself, as testified
in an old deed of gift, given to the monastery of Malmesbury, I
thought the same the more to be of credit.

In the second year of the reign of King Ethelstan, for a unity and a
peace to be had between the king and the Danes of Northumberland, he
married to Sithericus, their king, his sister, whereof mention is
made before; but shortly after, within one year, this Sithericus
died. After whose death King Ethelstan seized that province into his
own hands, putting out the son of the foresaid Sithericus, called
Alanus, who with his brother Godfridus fled, the one into Ireland,
the other unto Constantine, king of the Scots. And when he had thus
accorded with the Danes of Northumberland, he shortly made subject
unto him Constantine, king of Scots. But the said Constantine
conducted himself so lowly to the king, that he restored him to his
former dignity, saying that it was more honour to make a king than to
be a king.

Not long after the said Constantine, king of Scots, did break
covenant with King Ethelstan; wherefore he assembled his knights, and
made towards Scotland, where he, subduing his enemies, and bringing
them again unto due subjection, turned into England with victory.
Here, by the way, in some story writers (who, forgetting the office
of historians, seem to play the poets) is written and recorded for a
marvel, that the said Ethelstan, returning out of Scotland into
England, came to York, and so into the church of St. John of
Beverley, to redeem his knife, which before he had left there for a
pledge at his going forth. In the which place he praying to God, and
to St. John of Beverley, that he might leave there some remembrance
whereby they that came after might know that the Scots by right
should be subdued to the English men, smote with a sword (they say)
upon a great hard stone standing near about the castle of Dunbar,
that with the stroke thereof the stone was cut a large ell deep (with
a lie no less deep also than was the stroke in the stone). But of
this poetical or fabulous story, albeit Polychronicon, Fabian,
Jornalensis, and others more constantly accord in the same, yet in
Guliel. and Henricus no mention is made at all. But peradventure he
that was the inventor first of this tale of the stone was disposed to
lie for the whetstone; wherefore in my mind he is worthy to have it.

Of like truth and credit seemeth also to be this that foiloweth,
about the same year and time, under the reign of King Ethelstan,
being the eighth year of his reign, of one Bristanus, bishop of
Winchester, who succeeded Frichstanus in the same see, and governed
that bishopric four years. This Bristanus, being a devout bishop in
prayer and contemplation, used much among his solitary walks to
frequent late the churchyard, praying for the souls there, and all
Christian souls departed. Upon a time the said Bristanus, after his
wonted manner, proceeding in his devotions, when he had done, came to
Requiescant in pace. Whereunto suddenly a great multitude of souls,
answering together with one voice, said, Amen. Of this miracle,
albeit I have not much to say, (hasting to other matters,) yet this
question would I ask of some indifferent papist, which were not
wilful, but of ignorance deceived; Whether this multitude which here
answered Amen, were the souls of them buried in the churchyard or
not? If yea, then how were they in purgatory what time they were
heard in that place answering Amen? except we should think purgatory
to be in the churchyard at Winchester, where the souls were heard
then so many answering and praying, Amen. And yet this story is
testified by the accord of writers of that time, Guilel., Polyebron.,
Hovedenus, Jornalensis, and others more. Much like miracles and
prophecies also we read of Elphegus which succeeded him; but because
we haste to other things let these fables pass.

Ye heard a little before how King Ethelstan, after the death of
Sithericus, king of Northumberland, seized that land or province into
his own hand, and put out his son Alanus; who after, flying into
Scotland, married one of the daughters of Constantine king of Scots.
By whose stirring and exhortation he gathered a company of Danes,
Scots, and others, and entered the mouth of Humber with a strong navy
of six hundred and fifteen ships.

Whereof King Ethelstan, with his brother Edmund, having knowledge,
prepared his army, and at length joined in fight with him and his
people at a place called Brimambruch, or Brimford; where he, fighting
with them from morning till evening, after a terrible slaughter on
both sides (as the like hath not been seen lightly in England) had
the victory. In the which battle were slain five small and under-
kings, with Constantine king of Scots, and twelve dukes, with the
most part of all the strangers which at that time they gathered to
them. Here also our writers put in another miracle in this battle,
how King Ethelstan's sword miraculously fell into his sheath, through
the prayer of Odo, then archbishop of Canterbury.

After this victory thus obtained of the Danes and Scots, King
Ethelstan also subdued (or at least quieted) the North Britons, whom
he conventing together at Hertford, (or thereabouts,) forced them to
grant unto him, as a yearly tribute, twenty pounds of gold, three
hundred pounds of silver, and of heads of neat five and twenty
hundred, with hawks and dogs, to a certain number. This done, he went
to Exeter, and there likewise subduing the South Britons about Exeter
and Cornwall, repaired the walls of Exeter with sufficient strength,
and so returned.

Among these victorious and noble acts of this king, one blot there is
of him written and noted, wherein be is as much worthy to be
reprehended as in the other before to be commended, (that is,) the
innocent death and murder of his brother Edwin. The occasion thereof
was this. King Edward afore named, their father, in the time of his
youth, coming by a certain village or grange where he had been nursed
and brought up of a child, thought of courtesy to go to see how his
nurse did, where he, entering into the house, espied a certain young
damsel, beautiful, and right seemly attired, Egwina by name. This
Egwina before, being a poor man's daughter, had a vision by night,
that of her body sprang such a bright light of the moon, that the
brightness thereof gave light to the realm of England; by reason
whereof she was taken into the foresaid house, and daintily brought
up instead of their own daughter, for hope of some commodity to ensue
thereby, as afterward it came to pass. For King Edward, (as is
declared,) coming into the house, and ravished with the beauty of the
maiden, begat of her the same night this Ethelstan. Wherefore the
said Ethelstan, being thus basely born of Egwina, the first wife to
Edward, (as is said,) before he was married to her, and fearing his
next brother Edwin, which was rightly born, (especially being stirred
thereunto through the sinister suggestion of his butler,) did cast
such displeasure to the foresaid Edwin his brother, being yet but
young, that (notwithstanding his innocent submission and purgation
made against his accusers) he caused him to be set in an old rotten
boat in the broad sea, (only with one esquire with him,) without any
tackling or other provision to the same. Where the young; and tender
prince, being dismayed with the rage of winds and of the floods, and
now weary of his life, cast himself overboard into the sea, and so
was drowned. Notwithstanding the esquire shifting for himself as he
could, and recovering the body of his master, brought it to Sandwich,
where it was buried.
(Illustartion: The death of Edwin )

Which done, the king afterwards, coming to the remembrance of
himself, was stricken with great repentance the space of seven years
together, and at length was revenged of him that was the accuser of
his brother. This accuser (as is said) was the king's cup-bearer, who
(as God the righteous Judge of all things would have it) upon a
certain solemn feast, bearing the cup unto the king, chanced in the
middle of the floor to stumble with one foot, helping and recovering
himself with the other, saying in these words Thus one brother (as
you see) helpeth another. These words being thus spoken in the
hearing of the king, so moved his mind, that forthwith he commanded
the false accuser of his brother to be had out to execution. Whose
just recompence I would wish to be a warning to all men, what it is
to sow discord between brother and brother.

King Ethelstan (besides his seven years' lamentation for this act)
builded the two monasteries of Midleton and of Michlenes for his
brother's sake, or (as the stories say) for his soul. Whereby it may
appear what was the cause most special in those days of building
monasteries, to wit, for releasing the sins both of them departed and
them alive; which cause, how it standeth with the grace and verity of
Christ's gospel, and of his passion, let the Christian reader try and
examine with himself. This cruel fact of the king towards Edwin
caused him afterward to be more tender and careful towards his other
brethren and sisters left in his hands unmarried. Which sisters, as
is partly in the chapter before declared, he richly bestowed in great
marriages; as one to the king of Northumberland, Sithericus; another
he gave unto Lewis, king of Aquitania; the third to Henricus, duke of
Almaine, for his son Otho, who was the first emperor of the Germans.
Whereby it is to be understood that the empire at this time began
first to be translated from France (where it remained about one
hundred years and a half) unto Germany, where it hath ever since
continued.

The fourth of his sisters being a virgin of singu lar beauty, Hugo
the French king required to be given unto him, sending to King
Ethelstan precious and sumptuous presents, such as were not before
seen in England. Among the which presents and gifts, besides the rare
odours of sundry savours and fine spices; and besides the precious
and costly gems, namely, of smaragds of most redolent green; besides
also many and great coursers and palfrey richly trapped; especially
of one jewel, (as writers make mention,) which was a certain vessel
finely and subtilly made of the precious stone onychinus, so
radiantly wrought, that in it appeared the lively corn growing, and
men's images walking, &c. Over and besides was sent also the sword of
Constantine the Great, with the name of the possessor written in
golden letters; where in the haft of the same, all beaten in gold,
was one of the iron nails wherewith our Saviour on the cross was
nailed, of the verity whereof I am not disposed at this present much
to say what I suspect; but that this in the ecclesiastical story of
Eusebius is evident, that two of the foresaid nails of Christ were
spent on the bridle of Constantine, the third he cast into the sea in
a raging tempest. Wherefore, if Christ were nailed with four nails,
perhaps this nail might be one. If he were nailed but with three, I
see not how this story can stand with other stories, neither how this
fourth nail can stand with the truth. Among the rest moreover was the
spear (as is reported) wherewith the side of our Saviour was opened,
which also the said Constantine was wont to carry in the field
against his enemies, with a portion likewise of the holy cross
enclosed in crystal; also a part of the crown of thorn in like manner
enclosed, &c. Of the which relics part was given to Winchester, part
to the church of Malmesbury, where King Ethelstan was buried. As this
king was endued and enlarged by the gift of God (the setter up and
disposer of all kings) with great victories of worldly renown, having
under his subjection both Scots and Britons, and the whole monarchy
of the land; so he devised divers good and wholesome laws for the
government of the same, as well concerning the state of the orders
ecclesiastical, as also of the secular or lay people. Whereby it is
to be understood, that the usurped power of the bishop of Rome did
not then extend itself so largely, nor so proudly to derogate from
the authority of kings and princes, but that every one in his own
dominion had (under God, and not under the pope) the doing of all
matters within the same his dominion contained, whether they were
causes temporal or spiritual, as by the decrees and constitutions of
this king (and also of other, as well before him as after him) may
evidently be testified.

The said Ethelstan besides prescribed other constitutions also, as
touching tithes giving, where he saith and proclaimeth, I Ethelstan,
king, charge and command all my officers through my whole realm to
give tithes unto God of my proper goods, as well in living cattle as
in the corn and fruits of the ground, and that my bishops likewise of
their proper goods, and mine aldermen, and my officers and headmen,
shall do the same. Item, this I will, that my bishops and other
headmen do declare the same to such as be under their subjection, and
that to be accomplished at the term of St. John the Baptist. Let us
remember what Jacob said unto the Lord, Of all things that thou
givest to me I will offer tithes unto the Lord, &c. Also what the
Lord saith in the Gospel of St. Matthew, To him that hath it shall be
given, and he shall abound. We must also consider how terrible it is
written in books, that if we will not offer our tenths, from us nine
parts shall be taken away, and only the tenth part shall be left us,
&c.

Among his other laws and ordinances, to the number of thirty-five,
divers things he comprehended, pertaining as well to the spiritual as
also to the temporal jurisdiction.

Out of the laws of this king first sprang up the attachment of
thieves, that such as stole above twelve-pence, and were above twelve
years old, should not be spared.

And thus much briefly concerning the history of King Ethelstan, and
things in his time done; who reigned about the space of sixteen
years. And because he died without issue, therefore after him
succeeded his brother Edmund, the year of our Lord 940, who reigned
six years.

) and brother of Ethelstan, being of the age of twenty years, entered
his reign, who had by his queen Elgina two sons, Edwin, and Edgarus,
surnamed Pacifiens, which both reigned after him as followeth. This
Edmund continued his reign six years and a half. By him were expelled
the Danes, Scots, Normans, and all foreign enemies out of the land.
Such cities and towns which before were in the possession of
strangers, as Lincolne, Nottingham, Derby, Stafford, and Leicester,
he recovered out of their hands. Thus the realm, being cleared of
foreign power for a time, then the king set his study and mind in the
redressing and maintaining the state of the church; which all stood
then in building of monasteries, and furnishing of churches either
with new possessions, or with restoring the old which were taken away
before. In the time of this Edmund, this I find in an old written
story borrowed of William Cary, a citizen of London, a worthy
treasurer of most worthy monuments of antiquity. The name of the
author I can not allege, because the book beareth no title, lacking
both the beginning and the latter end; but the words thereof
faithfully recited be these: In the time of this king, there was a
scattering or dispersion made of the monks out of the monastery of
Eusham, and canons substituted in their place, through the doing of
Athelmus and Ulricus, laymen, and of Osulfus, bishop. &c.

Where, as concerning this matter between monks and others of the
clergy, first it is to be understood, that in the realm of England
heretofore, before time time of Dunstan, the bishops' sees and
cathedral churches were replenished with no monks, but with priests
and canons, called then clerks, or men of the clergy. After this
beginneth to rise a difference or a sect between these two parties in
strictness of life and in habit; so that they which lived after a
strict rule of holiness were called monks, and professed chastity,
that was, to live from wives, (for so was chastity then defined in
those blind days,) as though holy matrimony wore no chastity,
according as Paphnutius did well define it in the Council of Nice.
The other sort, which were no monks, but priests or men of the clergy
so called, lived more free from those monkish rules and observances,
and were then commonly (or at least lawfully) married, and in their
life and habit came nearer to the secular sort of other Christians.
By reason whereof great disdain and emulation was among them,
insomuch that in many cathedral churches, whereas priests were
before, there monks were put in; and, contrary, sometime whereas
monks were intruded, there priests and canons again were placed, and
monks thrust out; whereof more shall appear here after (by time grace
of Christ) when we come to the life of Dunstan. In the mean time,
something to satisfy the cogitation of the reader, which peradventure
either is ignorant, or else would know of the first coming in of
monks into this realm and church of England in the Saxons' time; this
is to be noted, according as I find in old chronicles, namely, in
time Latin History of Gulielm. de gestis Pontificum Anglorum,
recorded touching the same. About this time of King Edmund, or
shortly after, when hardness and strictness of life, joined with
superstition, was had in veneration, and counted for great holiness;
men therefore, either to win public fame with men, or merits with
God, gave themselves to lead a strict life, thinking thereby (the
stranger their conversation was, and the further from the common
trade of vulgar people) the more perfect to be towards God and man.
There was at that time (and before that) a monastery in France named
Floriake, after the order and rule of Benedict; from the which
monastery did spring a great part of our English monks, who being
there professed, and afterward returning into England, did congregate
men daily to their profession. And so, partly for strangeness of
their rule, partly for outward holiness of their strict life, partly
for the opinion of holiness that many had of them, were in great
admiration, not only with the rude sort, but with kings and princes,
who founded their houses, maintained their rules, and enlarged them
with posses sions. Among the which order of monks coming from
Floriake especially was one Oswaldus, first a monk of Floriake, then
bishop of Worcester and York, a great patron and setter up of
monkery. Touching the which Oswaldus, William in his book De
Pontific., writing of his history, hath these words: It was a common
custom at that time among English men, that if any good men were well
affected or minded toward religion, they went to the monastery of
blessed St. Benedict in France, and there received the habit of a
monk, whereupon the first origin of this religion began, &c. But of
this Oswald, bishop of York, and Dunstan, bishop of Canterbury, and
Ethelwald, bishop of Winchester, how they replenished divers
monasteries and cathedral churches with monks, and how they
discharged married priests and canons out of their houses, to plant
in monks in their cells, more shall be spoken (by the grace of
Christ) hereafter. Now let us return again to the matter where we
left, of King Edmund; who, besides his noble victories against his
enemies, and recovering the cities above expressed into his own
hands, did also subdue the province of Cumberland. And after he had
put out the eyes of the two sons of Dunmail, king of Cumberland, he
committed the governance thereof to Malcolm, king of the Scots, upon
promise of his trusty service and obedience, when the king should
stand in any need of him. In the time of this king Dunstan was not
yet archbishop of Canterbury, but only abbot of Glastenbury; of whom
many fabulous narrations pass among the writers, importing more
vanity than verity, whereof this is one of the first. What time
Edgarus called Pacificus was born, Dunstan being the same time abbot
of Glastenbury, (as the monkish fables dream,) heard a voice in the
air of certain angels singing after this tenor, and saying, Now peace
cometh to the church of England in the time of this child and of our
Dunstan, &c. This I thought to recite, that the Christian reader
might the better ponder with himself the impudent and abominable
fictions of this Romish generation. But of the same mint also they
have forged, how the said Dunstan should hear the angels sing the
Kyrie-leson, used to be sung at even-song in the church. Which is as
true as that the harp, hanging in a woman's house, played by itself
the tune of the anthem called Gaudent in cœlis, &c. What would not
these deceivers feign in matters something likely, which in things so
absurd and so inconvenient shame not to lie and to forge so
impudently and also so manifestly? Through the motion of this Dunstan
King Edmund builded and furnished the monastery of Glastenbury, and
made the said Dunstan abbot thereof.

Concerning the end and death of this king sundry opinions there he.
Alfridus and Marianus say, that while this King Edmund endeavoured
himself to save his sewer from the danger of his enemies, which would
have slain him at Pulcher church, the king, in parting of the fray,
was wounded, and died shortly after. But Gulielmus de Regibus, lib.
2, saith, That the king being at a feast at Pulcher church upon the
day of St. Augustine, spied a felon sitting in the hall, named Leof,
whom he before for his felony had exiled; and, leaping over the
table, did fly upon him, and plucked the thief by the hair of the
head to the ground. In which doing the felon with a knife wounded the
king to the death, and also with the same knife wounded many other of
the king's servants, and at length was all to behewed, and died
forthwith.

By the laws of King Edmund (ordained and set forth, as well for the
redress of church matters as also of civil regiment) it may appear
that the state, both of causes temporal, and likewise spiritual,
appertained then to the king's right, (the false pretended usurpation
of the bishop of Rome notwithstanding,) as by these laws is to be
seen; where he, by the advice of his lords and bishops, did enact and
determine concerning the chastity and pure life of ecclesiastical
ministers, and such as were in the orders of the church, with the
penalties also for them which transgressed the same.

Item, for tithes to be paid for every Christian man, and for the
church fees, and alms fees, &c.

Item, for deflouring of women professed, which we call nuns, &c.

Item, for every bishop to see his churches repaired of his own proper
charge, and boldly to admonish the king whether the houses of God
were well maintained, &c.

Item, for flying into the church for sanctuary, &c. Item, concerning
cases and determinations, spousal or matrimonial, &c.

All which constitutions declare what interest kings had in those days
in matters, as well ecclesiastical as others, within their dominion;
and that not only in disposing the ordinances and rites, such as
appertained to the institution of the church, but also in placing and
setting bishops in their sees, &c.

In the time of this Edmund was Ulstanus, archbishop of York, and Odo,
archbishop of Canterbury; which Odo being a Dane born, (as is before
tonched,) was promoted to that see by King Ethelstan, for that (as
they say) he being first bishop of Wilton, and present with King
Ethelstan in the field against Analanus before mentioned,what time
the said Ethelstan had lost his sword, he, through his intercession
up to heaven, did see a sword from heaven come down into the sheath
of the king. Whereof relation being made unto the king by the
foresaid bishop, Ethelstan upon the same was so affected towards Odo,
that not only he counted him for a patron of his life, but also made
him primate of Canterbury after the decease of Ulfelmus. This Odo was
the first, from the coming of the Saxons till his time, which was
archbishop of Canterbury, being no monk. For all the other before him
were of the profession of monks, of whom a great part had been
Italians unto Berctualdus. Notwithstanding, this Odo, being also a
stranger born, after he was elected into the bishopric, to answer to
the old custom of others before him, sailed over into France, and
there at Floriake (after the usual manner above mentioned of
Englishmen) received the profession and habit of monkish religion, as
saith my foresaid author. And like as the said Odo first, being no 
monk, was made archbishop of Canterbury; so also Olstanus, the same
time being bishop of York and of Worcester, differed from divers his
predecessors before him in profession and habit; of whom the
forenamed author thus writeth in his third book, speaking of
Ulstanus: Qui sanctitate discrepabat et habitu, that is, He differed
in sanctimony and in habit. Whereby it is to be collected, that in
those days was a difference in habit and garment, not only between
monks and bishops, but also between one bishop and another; albeit
what difference it was yet I do not find. But I return again to Odo,
who, by the description of his manners, might seem not to be the
worst that occupied that place, were it not that our lying histories,
feigning false miracles upon him, '(as they do of others,) make him
indeed to seem worse than he was. As where they imagine that he
should see from heaven a sword fall into the scabbard of King
Ethelstan. Item, where he should cover and defend the church of
Canterbury with his prayers from rain. And also where he should turn
the bread of the altar (as the writer termeth it) into lively flesh,
and from flesh into bread again, to confirm the people, which before
doubted in the same. Where note again, good reader, that albeit this
miracle were true, as no doubt it is untrue, yet is it to be noted
that in those days was a great doubt amongst Englishmen of the popish
sacrament, and that transubstantiation was not received into the
Christian creed. The like judgment is to he given also of that, where
our English writers, testifying of the same Odo, say that he should
prophesy long before of Dunstan to be his successor in the church of
Canterbury. But to let these fantasies and idle stories pass, this
which we find of Odo his own writing is certain, that the said Odo,
in the reign of King Edmund, had a synod commenced of the thief
prelates and clergy in his time, to whom he directed a pastoral
letter.

Odo continued bishop the space of twenty years. After whom Elsinus
was elected and ordained by the king to succeed through favour and
money; but in going to Rome for the pope's pall, in his journey
through the Alps, he decayed and died for cold. Whereupon succeeded
Dunstan, as in time and place (by the leave of Christ) followeth to
he declared.

This Edmund gave to St. Edmnnd the martyr before mentioned the town
of Bredrichcehworth, which is now called St. Edmundsbury, with great
revenues and lands appertaining to the same. But concerning the
frivolous miracles which our monkish story writers here feign of this
good Edmund, by the way, (or rather out of the way,) I let them pass.

And thus much concerning the reign of King Edmund, who, after he had
reigned six years and a half, was slain, as is said, at
Pulcherchurch, and buried at Glastenbury of Dunstan; leaving behind
him two children, Edwin and Edgar, by his wife Elgina. But because
the foresaid children were yet young and under age, therefore Edred,
brother to King Edmund, and uncle to the children, governed as
protector about the space of nine years and a half, till Edwin the
eldest son came to age. This Edred with great moderation and fidelity
to the young children behaved himself, during the time of his
government. In his time Dunstan was promoted, through the means of
Odo the archbishop, from abbot of Glastenbury to be bishop of
Worcester, and after of London. By the counsel of this Dunstan, Edred
was much ruled, and too much thereto addicted; insomuch that the
foresaid Edred is reported in stories to submit himself unto much
fond penance and castigations, inflicted to him of the said Dunstan.
Such zealous devotion was then in princes, and more blind
superstition in bishops. And here again is another miracle as
fantastical as the other before, forged of Dunstan. When Edred being
sick sent for Dunstan to be his confessor, Dunstan by the way heard a
voice declaring to him before, that Edred was already departed, at
the declaring whereof Dunstan's horse fell immediately dead under
him.

Edwin, the eldest son of King Edmund afore mentioned, after his uncle
Edred, began his reign about the year of our Lord 955, being crowned
at Kingston by Odo the archbishop of Canterbury. Of this Edwin it is
reported of divers writers, that the first day of his coronation,
sitting with his lords, he brake suddenly from them, and entered a
secret chamber, to the company of a certain woman whom he
inordinately retained, (being, as some say, another man's wife,)
whose husband he had before slain, as others say, being of his
alliance, to the great misliking of his lords, and especially of the
clergy. Dunstan was yet but abbot of Glastenbury; who, following the
king into the chamber, brought him out by the hand, and accused him
to Odo the archbishop, causing him to be separate from the company of
the foresaid party; by the which Odo the king was for his fact
suspended out of the church. By reason whereof the king, being with
Dunstan displeased, banished him his land, and forced him for a
season to fly into Flanders, where he was in the monastery of St.
Amandus. About the same season the monastical order of Benedict
monks, or black monks, (as they were called,) began to multiply and
increase here in England. Insomuch that where beforetime other
priests and canons had been placed, there monks were in their rooms
set in, and the secular priests (as they then were called, or canons)
put out. But King Edwin, for that displeasure he bare to Dunstan, did
so vex all the order of the said monks, that in Malmesbury,
Glastenbury, and other places more, he thrust out the monks, and set
in secular priests in their stead.

Notwithstanding, it was not long but these priests and canons were
again removed, and the said monks in their stead restored, both in
the foresaid houses, and in divers other churches cathedral besides,
as in the next story of King Edgar (Christ willing) shall more at
large appear.

In fine, King Edwin being hated, by reason of certain his demeanours,
of all his subjects, (especially the Northumbrians and Mercians,) was
by them removed from his kingly honour, and his brother Edgar in his
stead received; so that the river of Thames divided both their
kingdoms. Which Edwin, after he had reigned about the term of four
years, departed, leaving no heir of his body. Wherefore the rule of
the land fell unto Edgar, his younger brother.



26. KING EDGAR

Edgar, the second son of Edmund and brother to Edwin, being of the
age of sixteen years, began his reign over the realm of England in
the year of our Lord 959, but was not crowned till fourteen years
after; the causes whereof hereunder follow (Christ willing) to be
declared. In the beginning of his reign he called home Dunstan, whom
King Edwin before had exiled. Then was Dunstan, which before was
abbot of Glastenbury, made bishop of Worcester, and then of London.
Not long after, this Odo, the archbishop of Canterbury, deceased,
after he had governed that church twenty-four years. After whom
Brithilinus, bishop of Winchester, first was elected; but because he
was thought not sufficient to furnish that room, Dunstan was ordained
archbishop, the other sent home again to his old church. Where note,
by the way, how in those days the donation and assigning of
ecclesiastical dignities remained in the king's hand, only they set
their pall from Rome, as a token of the pope's confirmation. So
Dunstan, being by the king made archbishop, took his journey to Rome
for his pall of Pope John the Thirteenth, which was about the
beginning of the king's reign. Thus Dunstan obtaining his pall,
shortly after his return again from Rome, entreateth King Edgar that
Oswaldus (who, as is said, was made monk at Floriake, and was nephew
to Odo, late bishop of Canterbury) might be promoted to be bishop of
Worcester, which thing to him was granted. And not long after,
through the means of the said Dunstan, Ethelwoldus, (whom stories do
feign to be the great patron of monkery,) first monk at Glastenbury,
then abbot of Abendon, was also made bishop of Winchester. Of this
Ethelwold Gulielmus recordeth, that what time he was a monk in the
house of Glastenbury, the abbot had a vision of him, which was this:
How that there appeared to him in his sleep a certain great tree, the
branches whereof extended throughout all the four quarters of the
realm, which branches were all covered with many little monks' cowls,
where in the top of the tree was one great master cowl, which, in
spreading itself over the other cowls, enclosed all the rest; which
master cowl in the tree top mine author in the interpretation
applleth to the life of this Ethel wold. Of such prodigious fantasies
our monkish histories be full, and not only our histories of England,
but also of the heathen stories of the Gentiles be stuffed with such
kind of dreams of much like effect.

Of such a like dream we read of the mother of Ethelstan, how the moon
did spring out of her womb, and gave light to all England. Also of
King Charles the emperor, how he was led by a thread to see the
torments of hell. Likewise of Furceus the hermit, mentioned in the
third book of Beda, who saw the joys of heaven, and the four fires
that should destroy the world; the one of lying, for breaking our
promise made at baptism; the second fire was of the covetous, the
third of dissension, the fourth was of the fire of impiety and
wrongful dealing. Item, in like sort of the dream of Dunstan and of
the same Ethelwold, to whom appeared the three bishops, Bristanus,
Birmus, and Swithinus, &c. Of the dream of the mother of this
Ethelwold, who, being great with him, did see a golden eagle fly out
of her mouth, &c. Of the dream likewise, or the vision, of King Edgar
concerning the falling of the two apples, and of the pots, one being
full of water, the other empty, &c. Also of King Edward the
Confessor, touching the ruin of the land by the conqueror of the
Normans, We read also, in the history of Astyages, how he dreamed of
Cyrus, and likewise of many other dreams in the books of the monks,
and of the ethnic writers. For what cannot either the idle vanity of
man's head, or the deception of the lying spirit, work by man, in
foreshowing such earthly events as happen commonly in this present
world? But here is a difference to be understood between these
earthly dreams, speaking of earthly things and matters of human
superstition; and between other spiritual revelations sent by God,
touching spiritual matters of the church pertaining to man's
salvation, But to our purpose, by this dream, and by the event which
followed after, it may appear how and by what means the multitude of
monks began first to swarm in the churches of England; that is, in
the days of this Edgar, by the means of these three bishops, Dunstan,
Ethelwold, and Oswald. Albeit Dunstan was the chiefest ringleader of
this race, yet Ethelwold, being now bishop of Winchester, and Oswald
bishop of Worcester, were not much behind for their parts. By the
instigation and counsel of these three foresaid, King Edgar is
recorded in histories to build either new out of the ground, or to
re-edify monasteries decayed by the Danes, more than forty. As the
house of Ely, Glastenbury, Abbington, Burga by Stamford, Thorney,
Ramsey, Wilton, Wenton, Winchcombe, Thamstoke in Devonshire, with
divers more. In the setting up and building of the which the foresaid
Ethelwold was a great doer and a founder under the king. Moreover,
through the motion of this Dunstan and his fellows, King Edgar in
divers great houses and cathedral churches, where prebendaries and
priests were before, displaced the priests, and set in monks. Whereof
we read in the Chronicles of Roger Hoveden, in words and form as
followeth: Ethelwold, bishop of Winchester, who was then one of the
king's council, did urge the king chiefly to expel clerks out of
monasteries, and in their rooms to bestow monks and nuns, &c. Thus
the secular priests, being put to their choice, whether to change
their habit or to leave their rooms, departed out of their houses,
giving place for other better men to come in. Then the houses and
monasteries of religious men through all the realm went up apace, &c.

After the king's mind was thus persuaded and incited by these bishops
to advance monkery, then Oswaldus, bishop of Worcester, and also made
archbishop of York after the decease of Oskitellus, (as Hoveden
writeth,) having his see in the cathedral church there of St. Peter,
began first with fair persuasions to assay the minds of the canons
and priests, whether they could be content to change their profession
and to be made monks, or no. Which when he saw it would not take
effect, he practised this policy with them: Near to the said church
of St. Peter, within the churchyard, be erected another church of our
Lady, which when he had replenished with monks, there he continually
frequented, there he kept, there he sat, and was ever there
conversant. By reason whereof the other church was left naked and
desolate, and all the people gathered there where the bishop was. The
priests seeing themselves to be left and neglected both of the bishop
and of the people, to whom nothing remained but shame and contempt,
were driven of shame either to relinquish the house, (such as would
not enter the monkish profession,) or else to become monks, such as
had nothing else to stay upon. After the like superstition (although
not after the same subtlety) did Ethelwold also drive out the canons
and priests from the new monastery in Winchester, afterward called
Hida, and placed his monks. So in Oxford and in Mildune, with divers
other places more, the secular priests with their wives were
expelled, to give place to monks. The cause whereof is thus pretended
in certain story writers, whom I see also Fabian to follow; for that
the priests and clerks were thought slack and negligent in their
church service, and set in vicars in their stead, while they lived in
pleasure, and misspent the patrimony of the church after their own
lust. Then King Edgar gave to the vicars the same land which before
belonged to the prebendaries; who also not long after showed
themselves as negligent as the others. Wherefore King Edgar, (as mine
authors write,) by the consent of Pope John the Thirteenth, voided
clearly the priests, and ordained there monks. Although certain of
the nobles, and some of the prelates, were therewith not well
contented, as in the chapter following may partly appear.

But forsomuch as we have entered into the mention of monks and nuns,
and of their profession, which I see so greatly in our monkish
stories commended, lest perhaps the simple reader may be deceived
thereby, in hearing the name of monks in all histories of time to be
such an ancient thing in Christian life, (even from the primitive
church after the apostles' time,) both commonly recited and well
received, therefore to help the judgment of the ignorant, and to
prevent all error herein, it shall not be unprofitable, in following
the present occa sion here given, (by way of a little digression,) to
intermeddle somewhat concerning the original institution of monks,
what they were in the old time which were called Monachi, wherein the
monks of the primitive time did differ from the monks of the middle
time, and from these our monks now of this later age; moreover,
wherein all these three do differ from priests, (as we call them,)
and from men of the clergy. Wherefore to answer to the superstitious
scruple of such, which allege the old antiquity of the name and title
of monks, first, I grant the name and order of monks to be of old
continuance, during near from the time of three hundred years after
Christ. Of whom divers old authors do record, as Augustinus,
Hieronymus, Basilius Magnus, who was also himself one of the first
institutors and commenders of that superstition, Chrysostomus,
Nazianzenus, Euagrius, Sozomenus, Dionysius, and divers others. In
the number of these monks (which then were divided into hermits or
anchorites, and into Cœnobites) were Antoninus, Paulus, Johannes,
with divers other recluses. Among the which was Hierom, Basil,
Macharius, Isidorus, Pambus, Nilammon, Simeon, with infinite others,
both in Palestina, Syria, Thebaide, Mesopotamia, in Egypt, in Africa,
and in Scythia. Insomuch that Cassianus maketh mention of a certain
monastery in Thebaide, wherein were above five thousand monks under
the government of one abbot. And here also in England mention is made
before of Bangor, wherein were two thousand and two hundred monks
under one man's ruling, in the year of our Lord 596. Whereby it
appeareth that monks were then, and two hundred years before, in the
primitive time of the church. But what monks these were is to be
considered; such as either by tyranny of persecution were driven into
solitary and desert places; or else such as, not con strained of any,
but of their own voluntary devotion, (joined with some superstition
among, for the love they had unto spiritual contemplation, and for
hatred of the wicked world,) withdrew themselves from all company,
either having nothing to themselves proper, or else all things common
with others. And all these were then nothing else but laymen; of
which laymen there were two sundry sorts, one of the vulgar and
common people, which only were partakers of the sacraments; the
other, in following a monastical kind of life, were called monks,
(being nothing but laymen,) leading a more severe and stricter trade
of life than the others, as appears from the following words of
Augustine, "One thing pertaineth to monks, another thing unto them of
the clergy; they of the clergy feed their flock, I am fed," &c. Also
the same appeareth likewise by the fourth canon of the Council of
Chaleedon, where it is provided that monks should not intermeddle
with matters of the church.

By these foresaid authors alleged, it is evident that monks in the
former age of the church, albeit they lived a solitary life, yet they
were then no other but only laymen, differing from priests, and
differing from the other monks which succeeded them afterwards in the
middle age of the church, and that in three points: First, they were
tied and bound to no prescript form either of diet or apparel, or any
thing else, as we may see testified by the words of St. Augustine.
And Sozomen, speaking of the monks of the same time, which in cities
had separate mansions from others, saith, Some live in cities, so
behaving themselves as seeming nothing worth, and they differed
nothing from the multitude, &c. The second point wherein they were
discrepant from the later monks was, in that they remained no other
but in the order of laymen, (only being of it stricter life than the
rest,) and had nothing to do in matters and charges ecclesiastical;
which was afterward broken by Pope Boniface the Fourth, as followeth
(the Lord willing) to be seen and said. Thirdly, the foresaid monks
of that age, albeit the most part of them lived sole and single from
wives, yet some of them were married; certes none of them were
forbidden or restrained from marriage. Of such as were married
speaketh Athanasius; who saith that he knew both monks and bishops
married men, and fathers of children, &c.

And yet the said monks of the old time, though they were better then
the other which followed them, yet all that notwithstanding,
superstition with them and among them began then to creep into the
church through the crafty subtlety of Satan, and all for the
ignorance of our free justification by faith in Jesus Christ.
Examples do declare the vain and prodigious superstition of these
monastical sort of men; which examples do not lack, if leisure rather
did not lack to bring them in. But two or three shall suffice for
many, which I purpose (the Lord willing) here to insert, to the
intent the mind of the godly reader may the better consider and
understand how shortly after the time of Christ and his apostles the
doctrine of Christian justification began to be forgotten, true
religion turned to superstition, and the price of Christ's passion to
be obscured through the vain opinion of men's merits, &c. A certain
abbot named Moses thus testifieth of himself in the collations of
Cassianus, that he so afflicted himself with much fasting and
watching, that some times for two or three days together, not only he
felt no appetite to eat, but also had no remembrance of any meat at
all, and by reason thereof was driven also from sleep. Insomuch that
he was caused to pray to God but for a little refreshing of sleep to
be given him some piece of the night. In the same author mention is
made of a certain old man, a hermit, who because he had conceived in
himself such a purpose never to eat meat without he had some guest or
stranger with him, sometime was constrained to abstain five days
together until Sunday, while he came to the church, and there brought
some stranger or other home with him.

Two other examples yet more will I add out of the said Cassianus, to
declare how the subtlety of Satan, through superstition and false
colour of holiness, blindeth the miserable eyes of such, which rather
attend men's traditions than the word of God. In the fortieth chapter
of the said author, in his book De Gastrimargia, is told of a certain
abbot named Joannes, in the desert wilderness of Seythia, who sent
two of his novices with figs unto one that was sick in the wilderness
eighteen miles off from the church. It chanced these two young
novices, missing the way, wandered so long in the wild forest or
wilderness, and could not find the cell, that for emptiness and
weariness, they waxed faint and tired; and yet rather would they die
than taste the figs committed to them to carry, and so did; for
shortly after they were found dead, their figs lying whole by them.

Another story he also reciteth of two monastical brethren, who making
their progress in the desert of Thebaide, purposed with themselves to
take no sustenance but such as the Lord himself should minister unto
them. It happened as they were wandering desolate in the desert, and
fainting al most for penury, certain Mazises, a kind of people by
nature fierce and cruel, notwithstanding being suddenly altered into
a new nature of humanity, came forth, and of their own accord offered
bread unto them; which bread the one thankfully received as sent of
God; the other, as counting it sent of man, and not of God, refused
it, and so for lack perished.

Hereunto might I also annex the story of Mucius, who, to declare his
obedience, did not stick at the commandment of his abbot to cast his
son into the water, not knowing whether any were appointed there
ready to rescue him from drowning; so far were the monks in those
days drowned in superstition. What is this but for man's traditions
and commandments to transgress the commandment of God, which saitlm,
Thou shalt do no murder, Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God? What
man is so blind that seeth not by these, and infinite examples more,
what pernicious superstition hath begun by reason of this monkery,
almost from the beginning, to creep into the church? Whereat I cannot
marvel enough, seeing that age of the church had in it so many
learned doctors, who not only did approve and allow these monastical
sects of life, but also certain themselves were the authors and
institutors of the same, yea, and of men's traditions made the
service of God. In number of whom may be reckoned Basilius Magnus,
and Nazianzenus, who, with immoderate austerity, did so pluck down
themselves, that when they were called to the office of bishops, they
were not able to sustain the labour thereof.

After these foresaid monks of that time above rehearsed followed
other monks of the middle age of the church, who, as in multitude, so
also in superstition increasing, began by little and little from
their desolate dens in the vast wilderness to approach more near to
great towns, where they had solemn monasteries founded by kings and
queens, and king's daughters, and other rich consuls, as is partly
before touched, and the causes also touched withal for the which they
were first founded. All these impious and erroneous titles and causes
we find alleged in stories, as in Malmesburiensis, Jornalensis,
Henricus, and others more, In which histories I also note, that the
most part of these aforesaid monasteries were erected first upon some
great murder, either by war in the field, or privately committed at
home, as shall well appear to them that read their books whom I have
alleged. But to return to our monks again, who (as is said) first
began to creep from the cold field into warm towns and cloisters,
from towns then into cities, and at length from their close cells and
cities into cathedral churches, (as here appeareth by this story of
King Edgar,) where, not only they did abound in wealth and riches,
(especially these monks of our later time,) but much more did swim in
superstition and Pharisaical hypocrisy, being yoked and tied in all
their, doings to certain prescript rules and formal observances; in
watching, in sleeping, in eating, in rising, in praying, in walking,
in talking, in looking, in tasting, in touching, in handling, in
their gestures, in their vestures; every man apparelled not as the
proper condition of others would require, nor as the season of the
year did serve, but as the coacted rules and order of every sect did
enforce them. The number of which sects was infinitely divers; some,
after Basilius's rule, went in white; some, after Benet's rule, in
black; some Cluniacensis, first set up by Otho in the time of this
King Edgar, wearing after the rule of Benet's order; some, after
Hierome's rule, leather-girdled, and coped above their white coat;
some Gregorians, copper-coloured; some De valle umbrosa, grey monks;
some Grandimontenses, wearing a coat of mails upon their bare bodies,
with a black cloak thereupon; some Cistercians, who had white rochets
on a black coat; some Celestines, all in blue, both cloak, cowl, and
cap; some charter monks, wearing haircloth next their bodies; some
Flagellants, going barefoot in long white linen shirts, with an open
place in the back, where they beat themselves with scourges on the
bare skin every day before the people's eyes, till the blood ran
down, saying that it was revealed to them by an angel, that in so
scourging themselves, within thirty days and twelve hours they should
be made so pure from sin, as they were when they first received
baptism; some starred monks; some Jesuits, with a white girdle and
russet cowl. Briefly, who can reckon the innumerable sects and
disguised orders of their fraternities? some holding of St. Benet,
some of St. Hierome, some of St. Basil, some of St. Bernard, some of
St. Bridget, some of St. Bruno, some of St. Lewis, as though it were
not enough for Christians to hold of Christ onmly. So subject were
they to servile rules, that no part of Christian liberty re mained
among them; so drowned and sunk in superstition, that not only they
had lost Christ's religion, but also almost the sense and nature of
men. For where men nmaturally are and ought to be ruled by the
discreet government of reason in all outward doings, wherein one rule
can serve for all men; the circumstance of time, place, person, and
business being so sundry and divers; contrary, among these, no
reason, but only the knock of a bell, ruled all their doings; their
rising, their sleeping, their praying, their eating. their coming in,
their going out, their talking. their silence; and altogether like
insensible people. either not having reason to rule themselves, or
else as persons ungrateful to God, neither enjoying the benefit of
reason created in them, nor yet using the grace of Christ's liberty,
whereunto he redeemed them.

Thus thou seest, gentle reader, sufficiently declared what the monks
were in the primitive time of the church, and what were the monks of
the middle age, and of these our later days of the church. Whereunto
join this withal, that where the monks of elder time (as is said)
were mere lay men, and no spiritual ministers; afterward Bonifacius
the Fourth made a decree, anno 606, that monks might use the office
of preaching, of christening, of hearing confessions, and also of
absolving them of their sins, &c. So then monks, who in the beginning
were but laymen, and no spiritual ministers, forbidden by the general
Council of Chalcedon (as is above related) to intermeddle with
matters ecclesiastical, afterward, in process of time, did so much 
encroach upou the office of spiritual ministers, that at length the
priests were discharged out of their cathedral churches, and monks
set in their places; because that monks in those days, leading a
stricter life, and professing chastity, had a greater countenance of
holiness among the people than the priests, who then in the days of
King Edgar had wives, (at least so many as would,) no law forbidding
them to the contrary, till the time of Hildebrand, now called Gregory
the Seventh, whereof more shall be said (Christ willing) in the book
next following.

And thus much by the way as touching the order and profession of
monks. Now to turn in again from whence we digressed, (that is,) to
the matter of King Edgar, who following the counsel and leading of
Dunstan, and the foresaid Ethelwold, bishop of Winchester, was
somewhat thereby inclined to superstition; but otherwise of his own
nature well given to all virtues and princely acts, worthy of much
commendation and famous memory. So excellent was he in justice, and
sharp in correction of vices, (as well in his magistrates as other
subjects,) that never before his days was less felony by robbers, nor
less extortion or bribery by false officers. Such provinces and
lordships as were not yet come under the king's subjection he united
and adjoined to his dominion; and so made one perfect monarchy of the
whole realm of England, with all the islands and borders about the
same. Such as were wicked he kept under, he repressed them that were
rebels, the godly he maintained, he loved the modest, he was devout
to God, and beloved of his subjects, whom he governed in much peace
and quietness. And as he was a great seeker of peace, so God did
bless him with much abundance of peace and rest from all wars; so
that, as the story recordeth of him, he neither tasted of any privy
treason among his subjects, nor of any invasion of foreign enemies.
So studious he was of the public profit of his realm, and fruitful in
his government, that, as the said story testifieth of him, no year
passed in all the time of his reign, wherein he did not some singular
and necessary commodity for the commonwealth, &c. A great maintainer
he was of religion and learning, not forgetting herein the footsteps
of King Alfred, his predecessor. Among his other princely virtues,
this chiefly is to be regarded, that whereas other princes commonly
in much peace and quietness are wont to grow into a dissolute
negligence of life, or oblivion of their charge committed unto them;
this king, in continuance of peace, (that notwithstanding,) kept ever
with him such a watch and a vigilant severity, joined with a seemly
clemency, that I cannot here but recite the witness of our story
writers, testifying of his diligent care over the commonwealth: That
he would suffer no man, of what degree of nobility soever he were, to
dally out his laws without condign punishment, &c. And the same
author adds, In all his time there was neither any privy picker nor
open thief, but he that, in stealing other men's goods, would venture
and suffer (as he was sure) the loss of his own life.

Moreover, as the studious industry of this prince was forward in all
other points, so his prudent provision did not lack in this also, in
driving out the devouring and ravening wolves throughout all his
land. Wherein he used this policy, in causing Ludwallus, prince or
king of Wales, to yield to him yearly by way of tribute three hundred
wolves. By means whereof, within the space of four years after, in
England and Wales might scantly be found one wolf alive.

This Edgar, among other of his politic deeds, had in readiness three
thousand six hundred ships of war to scour the seas in the summer
time; whereof one thousand two hundred kept the east seas, as many
defended the west side; again, as many were on the south seas, to
repulse the invasion of foreign enemies. Moreover, in winter season,
the use and manner of this virtuous king was this: during all the
time of his life, to ride over the land in progress, searching and
inquithng diligently (to use here the words of mine author) how his
laws and statutes by him ordained were kept, and that the poor should
suffer no prejudice, or be oppressed any manner of ways by the
mightier, &c. Briefly, as I see many things in this worthy prince to
be commended, so this one thing in him I cannot but lament, to see
him, like a phœnix, to fly alone, that of all his posterity so few
there be that seek to keep him company. And although I have showed
more already of this king than I think will well be followed, yet
this more is to be added to the worthiness of his other acts, that
whereas, by the multitude of the Danes dwelling in divers places of
England, much excessive drinking was used, whereupon ensued
drunkenness and many other vices, to the evil example and hurt of his
subjects; he therefore, to prevent that evil, ordained certain cups,
with pins or nails set in them, adding thereunto a law, that what
person thank past the mark at one draught should forfeit a certain
penny, whereof one half should fall to the accuser, and the other
half to the ruler of the borough or town where the offence was done.

It is reported of this Edgar by divers authors, that about the
thirteenth year of his reign, he being at Chester, eight kings,
(called in histories sub reguli,) to wit, petty kings, or under
kings, came and did homage to him. Of whom the first was the king of
Scots, called Kinadius, Macolinus of Cumberland, Mackus or
Mascusinus, king of Monia, and of divers other islands, and all the
kings of Wales, the names of whom were Dufnall, or Dune waldus,
Sifresh, Huwall, Jacob, Ulkel, Juchel. All which kings, after they
had given there fidelity to Edgar, the next day following (for a pomp
or royalt) he entered with these aforesaid kings into the river of
Dee; where he, sitting in a boat, took the rule of the helm, and
caused these eight kings, every person taking an oar in his hand, to
row him up and down the river to and from the church of St. John unto
his palace again, in token that he was master and lord of so many
provinces.

And thus ye have heard hitherto, touching the commendation of King
Edgar, such reports as the old monkish writers thought to bestow upon
him, as upon the great patron of their monkish religion, who had
builded so many monasteries for them as were Sundays in the year, (as
some say,) or, as Edmer reporteth, but forty and eight.

Now, on the other side, what vices in him were reigning let us
likewise consider, according as we find in the said authors
described, which most write to his advancement. Whereof the first
vice is noted to be cruelty, as well upon others, as namely upon a
certain earl, being of his secret council, called Ethelwold. The
story is this: Ordgarus, duke of Devonshire, had a certain daughter
named Elfrida, whose beauty being highly commended to the king, he
being inflamed therewith, sent this foresaid Ethelwold (whom he
specially trusted) to the party, to see and to bring him word again;
and if her beauty were such as was reported, willing him also to make
the match between them. Ethelwold well viewing the party, and seeing
her beauty no thing inferior to her fame, and thinking first to serve
his own turn, told all things contrary unto the king. Whereupon the
king, withdrawing his mind other wise, in the end it came to pass
that Ethelwold himself did marry her.

Not long after, the king understanding further by the complaints and
rumours of certain how he was prevented and beguiled, set a fair face
upon the matter before Ethelwold; and merrily jesting with him, told
him how he would come and see his wife, and indeed appointed the day
when he would be there. Ethelwold the husband, perceiving this matter
to go hardly with him, made haste to his wife, declaring to her the
coming of the king, and also opening the whole order of the matter
how he had done; desiring her of all love, as she would save his
life, to disgrace and deform herself with garments and such attire as
the king might take no delighting in her. Elfrida hearing this, what
did she, but, contrary to the request of her husband and promise of a
wife, against the king's coming, trimmed herself at the glass, and
decked her in her best array. Whom when the king beheld, he was not
so much enamoured with her as in hatred with her husband, who had so
deceived him. Whereupon the king shortly after, making as though he
would go to hunt in the forest of Harwood, sent for Ethelwold to come
to him under the pretence of hunting, and there ran him through and
slew him. After this, the bastard son of Ethelwold coming to him, the
king asked him how he liked that hunting; who answered again, that
which pleaseth the king ought not to displease him; for the death of
which Ethelwold Elfrida afterward builded a monastery of nuns in
remission of sins.

Another fault which Malmesbury noteth in him was the coming in of
strangers into this land, as Saxons, Flemings, and Danes, whom he
with great familiarity retained to the great detriment of the land,
as the foresaid story of Malmesbury recordeth, whose words be these:
Whereby it happened that divers strangers out of foreign countries,
allured by his fame, came into the land, as Saxons, Flemings, and
Danes also, all which he retained with great familiarity. The coming
of which strangers bred great damage to the realm, and therefore is
Edgar justly blamed in stories, &c. With the which reprehension the
Saxon stories also do agree.

The third vice to him objected was, his incontinent and lascivious
lust in deflouring maids, as first of a duke's daughter being a nun,
and a virgin named Wilfrida, or Wilstrud; of which Wilfrida was born
Editha, a bastard daughter of Edgar. Also of another certain virgin
in the town of Andevar, who was privily conveyed into his bed by this
means: The lascivious king coming to Andevar, not far from
Winchester, and thinking to have his pleasure of a certain duke's
daughter, of whose beauty he heard much speaking, commanded the maid
to be brought unto him. The mother of the virgin, grieving to have
her daughter made a concubine, secretly by night conveyed to the
king's bed, instead of her daughter, another maiden, of beauty and
favour not uncomely; who in the morning rising to her work, and so
being known of the king what she was, had granted unto her of the
king such liberty and freedom, that of a servant she was made
mistress both to her master, and also to her mistress.

Another concubine he had also besides these aforesaid, which was
Egelfleda, or Efreda, called Candida, the white daughter of Duke
Ordmere, (as Guliel. Malmsbur. recordeth,) she being also a professed
nun, of whom he begot Edward in bastardy; for the which he was
enjoined by Dunstan seven years' penance. After which penance being
com plete, then he took to him a lawful wife, (as Malmsb. saith,)
Elfritha, the mother of Edmund and Ethelred, or otherwise called
Egelred, whereof more shall be said (the Lord willing) hereafter.

Over and besides all these vices noted and objected to King Edgar in
our monkish story writers, I also observe another no less, or rather
greater, vice than the other afore recited, which was, blind
superstition and idolatrous monkery brought into the church of
Christ, with the wrongful expulsing of lawflml married priests out of
their houses. Where upon what inconveniences ensued after in this
realm, especially in the house of the Lord, I leave it to the
consideration of them which have heard of the detestable enormities
of those religious votaries; the occasion whereof first and chiefly
began in this Edgar, through the instigation of Dunstan and his
fellows, who after they had inveigled the king, and had brought him
to their purpose, they caused him to call a council of the clergy;
where it was enacted that the canons of divers cathedral churches,
colleginers, parsons, vicars, priests, and deacons, with their wives
and children, either should give over that kind of life, or else give
room to monks, &c. For execution of which decree two principal
visitors were appointed, Athelwold or Ethelwold, bishop of
Winchester, and Oswald, bishop of Worcester, as is partly before
touched.

And thus much concerning the history of King Edgar, and of such
things as in his time happened in the church; which Edgar, after he
had entered into the parts of Britain to subdue the rebellion of the
Welchmen, and there had spoiled the country of Glamorgan, and wasted
the country of Odo, within ten days after, when he had reigned the
space of sixteen years, he died, and was buried at Glastenbury,
leaving after him two bastards, to wit, Editha and Edward, and one
son lawfully be gotten, named Ethelred, or otherwise by corruption
called Egelred, for Edmund the elder son died before his father.

You heard before how King Edgar is noted in all stories to be an
incontinent liver in deflouring maids and virgins. Of which virgins
three notoriously are expressed in authors, to wit, Ulstrude, or
Ulfride; the second was the duke's maid at Andevar, near to
Winchester; the third was Elfled, mother of Edward, for the which
Elfled he was stayed and kept back from his coronation by Dunstan,
archbishop of Canterbury, the space of seven years; and so the said
king, beginning his reign in the sixteenth year of his age, being the
year of the Lord 959, was crowned at his age one and thirty, A.D.
974, as in the Saxon chronicle of Worcester church may be proved. For
the more evident declaration of which matter, concerning the
coronation of the king restrained, and the presumptuous behaviour of
Dunstan against the king, and his penance by the said Dunstan
enjoined, ye shall hear both Osberne, Malmesburiensis, and other
authors speak in their own words as followeth: Perpetrato itaque in
virginem velatem peccato, &c. After that Dunstan had understanding of
the king's offence perpetrated with the professed nun, and that the
same was blazed amongst the people, with great ire and passion of
mind he came to the king, who seeing the archbishop coming, eftsoons
of gentleness arose from his regal seat towards him, to take him by
the hand and to give him place. But Dunstan refusing to take him by
the hand, and with stern countenance bending his brows, spake after
this effect of words (as stories import) unto the king: You that have
not feared to corrupt a virgin maid handfast to Christ, presume you
to touch the consecrated hands of a bishop? You have defiled the
spouse of your Maker, and think you by flattering service to pacify
the friend of the bridegroom? No, sir, his friend will not I be which
hath Christ to his enemy, &c. The king, terrified with these
thundering words of Dunstan, and compuncted with inward repentance of
his sin perpetrated, fell down with weeping at the feet of Dunstan;
who, after he had raised him up from the ground again, began to utter
to him the horribleness of his fact; and finding the king ready to
receive whatsoever satisfaction he would lay upon him, enjoined him
this penance for seven years' space, as followeth: That he should
wear no crown all that space, that be should fast twice in the week,
he should distribute his treasure left to him of his ancestors
liberally unto the poor, he should build a monastery of nuns at
Sbaftsbury; that as he had robbed God of one virgin through his
transgression, so should he restore to him many again in times to
come, Moreover, he should expel clerks of evil life (meaning such
priests as had wives and children) out of churches, and place
convents of monks in their room, &c.

It followeth then in the story of Osberne, that when the seven years
of the king's penance were expired, Dunstan calling together all the
peers of the realm, with bishops, abbots, and other ecclesiastical
degrees of the clergy, in the public sight of all the multitude set
the crown upon the king's head at Bath, which was the one and
thirtieth year of his age, and the thirteenth year of his reign; so
that he reigned only but three years crowned king. All the other
years besides Dunstan belike ruled the land as he listed.
Furthermore, as touching the son of the said Elfled, thus the story
writeth: The child also which was gotten of the harlot he baptized in
the holy fountain of regeneration, and so giving his name to be
called Edward, did adopt him to be his son, &c.

By the which narration of Osbern, agreeing also with the story of the
Saxon book above mentioned, is convinced a double untruth or error,
either negligently overseen, or of purpose dissembled in our later
monkish story writers, as in Malmesbury, Matth. Paris, Matth. Westm.,
and others besides. Who, to conceal the fault of King Edgar, or to
bear with Dunstan's fact, in setting up Edward for the maintenance of
their monkish order, first, do falsely affirm, that Editha, the
daughter of Ulfride, was born after Edward, and that for her this
penance was enjoined to King Edgar. Which neither is nor can be so,
as in process hereafter (the Lord willing) shall appear.

Secondly, they are deceived in this, that they affirm King Edgar to
have two wives, and that Elfleda, the mother of Edward, was not a
professed nun indeed, but dissembled so to be to avoid the violence
of the king; whereas, indeed, the truth of the story both giveth her
to be a nun, and her son to be base, and she herself never to be 
married unto the king.

After the death of Edgar, no small trouble arose amongst the lords
and bishops for succession of the crown; the principal cause whereof
rose upon this occasion, as by the story of Simon of Durhann and
Roger Hoveden is declared. Immediately after the decease of the king,
Alferus, duke of Mercia, and many other nobles which held with
Ethelred, the only right heir and lawful son of Edgar, misliking the
placing and intruding of regular orders into churches, and the
thrusting of the secular priests, with their wives and children, out
of their ancient possessions, expelled the abbots and monks, and
brought in again the foresaid priests with their wives. Against whom
certain other there were on the contrary part that made resistance,
as Ethelwin, duke of East Angles, Elfwoldus, his brother, and the
Earl Brithnothus, saying in a council to gether assembled, that they
would never suffer the religious monks to be expelled and driven out
of the realm, which held up all religion in the land; and thereupon
eftsoons levied an army, whereby to defend by force the monasteries,
such as were within the precinct of East Anglia.

In this hurly-burly amongst the lords, about the placing of monks and
putting out of priests, rose also the contention about the crown, who
should be their king; the bishops and such lords as favoured the
monks seeking to advance such a king as they knew would incline to
their side; so that the lords, thus divided, some of them would have
Edward, and some consented upon Egelred the lawful son. Then Dunstan,
archbishop of Canterbury, and Oswald, archbishop of York, with other
their fellow bishops, abbots, and divers other lords and dukes,
assembled in a council together. In the which council Dunstan, coming
in with his cross in his hand, and bringing Edward before the lords,
so persuaded them, that in the end Edward, by Dunstan's means, was
elected, consecrated, and anointed for their king.

And thus hast thou, good reader, the very truth of this story,
according to the writing of authors of most antiquity which lived
nearest to that age, as Osbern and others; which Osbern, living in
the days of William the Conqueror, wrote this story of Dunstan
through the motion of Lanfranc, and allegeth, or rather translateth,
the same out of such Saxon stories as were written before his time.
Besides which Osbern, we have also for witness hereof Nicholas
Trivet, in his English story written in French, and also Joannes
Paris in his French story written in the Latin tongue, where he
plainly calleth Edward, no lawful son. Whereunto add, moreover, the
testimony of Vincentius and Antoninus, who in plain terms likewise
report the same.

Now, having laid the foundation for the truth and ground of this
matter, let us come to examine how truly our later writers do say,
which write that Editha, and not Edward, was the child for whom
Dunstan enjoined to the king seven years penance; and also how truly
they report Edward to be a lawful heir, and Elfled to be a lawful
wife to King Edgar.

For, first, touching Editha, this is confessed by the said writers
themselves, that she was of good years at what time Edgar her father
was enjoined his penance. After the which seven years of his penance
expired, he lived at the most but three years and a half, which seven
years and three years and a half do make in all but ten years and a
half. But now the said authors themselves do grant, that she was made
abbess by her father, he being then alive. And how can this then
stand with her legend, which saith that she was not less than fifteen
years of age? By which account it must needs fall out, that she could
not be so little as five years old before the birth of that child for
whom the king did penance.

And thus much touching Editha. Now in like manner to consider of the
time of Edward. First, this by all writers is granted, that he was
slain in the fifteenth year of his age. Which years do well agree to
that child which King Edgar begat in bastardy, and for the which he
did his penance; for the more evidence whereof, let us come to the
supputation of the years in this sort.

First, the penance of the king after the birth of this child lasted
seven years. Then the king after the same lived three years and a
half. After whose death Edward reigned other three years and a half,
which in all make the full sum of fourteen years. About the count of
which age, the said Edward going on his fifteenth year by their own
reckoning, was slain.

And thus have ye by manifest demonstration proved by the right
casting of the years, after their own grant and reckoning, that
Editha, daughter of Ulfride, in no case can be the child which was
born after Edward, and for whom the king was enjoined penance; but
that Edward rather was born after Editha, and was the child for whom
the penance was enjoined, contrary to the opinion commonly received
in the church, which for ignorance of the story hath hitherto holden
Edward to be a holy martyr, and right heir unto the crown. Which
error and opinion how it first sprang, and by whom, albeit it pertain
not to my story to discuss, yet were it no hard matter to conjecture.

First, after that Dunstan and Oswald, with other bishops, abbots, and
certain lords and dukes of that faction, for the maintenance of
monkery, had advanced Edward to be king, against Queen Alfrith,
mother of Ethelred, and Alferus, duke of Mercia, and certain other
nobles which held the contrary side of the priests against the monks;
in process of time the monks that came after to write stories,
perceiving Dunstan to be reputed in the Church of Rome for a holy
saint, and the said King Edward for a holy martyr, and partly also to
bolster up their own religion of monkery so much as they could, to
the intent therefore that they might save both the credit of Dunstan
and of the king, and especially bearing favour to their own religion,
and partly that the reputation of the Church of Rome should not be
distained by opening the truth of this matter, either they did not
see, or would not confess herein what they knew; but rather thought
best to blanch the story, and colourably to hide the simple truth
thereof, making the people falsely believe that Elfleda, the mother
of Edward, was wife to King Edgar, and Edward to be lawfully born,
and also that Editha was born after Edward, and to be the child for
which the king was enjoined penance. All which is false, and contrary
both to the order of time above declared, and also to the plain words
of Malmesbury, which speaking of King Edgar's last concubine, saith
in plain words, He had a concubine whom he loved entirely, keeping
true faith of his bed to her alone, until the time he married for his
lawful wife Elfrid, the daughter of Duke Ordgar, &c. Whereby we have
to understand, that whatsoever concubine this was which Malmesbury
speaketh of, certain it is that Edgar lived in whoredom till the time
he married his lawful wife. Furthermore, and finally to conclude,
beside these arguments and allegations above recited, let this also
be perpended, how the said Dunstan with his complices, after the
killing of King Edward, leaving the right heir of the crown, (which
was Ethelred,) went about (as Capgrave and their own legend
confesseth) to set up Editha, the other bastard, to possess the
crown; but that she, more wise than her brother Edward, refused the
same. Whereby what is to be thought of the doings of Dunstan, and
what should be the cause why he preferred both Edward and Editha to
the crown, rather than the lawful heir, I leave to all indifferent
readers thereof to judge.



27. KING EDWARD THE MARTYR

After that Dunstan and his fellows had thus set up Edward for their
king, they were now where they would be, supposing all to be sure on
their side, and that they had established the kingdom of monkery for
ever, through the help of the young king, and the duke of East
Angles, and certain other nobles whom they had drawn to their part.
Howbeit this matter passed not so well with them as they hoped. For
shortly after the coronation of this young king, Alferus, duke of
Mercia, who followed much the deeds of the queen, with other great
men, stoutly standing on the contrary side, drove out the monks from
the cathedral churches which King Edgar before had set in, and
restored again the priests, (as Ranulphus saith,) with their
concubines; but in the History of the Library of Jornall I find it
plainly expressed, with their wives. The words of the very author be
these: Alferus, duke of Mcrcia, with other great men more, drove out
the monks from the great monasteries whom King Edgar had there set in
before, and restored again the priests with their wives.

Whereby it doth evidently appear that priests in those days were
married, and had their lawful wives. The like before that in King
has's time is plain, that bishops then had wives and children, as
appeareth by the words of the law then sent forth, extant in the
History of the said JornaLensis.

Now to the purpose again of our matter, which is to declare how the
duke and nobles of England expelled the monks out of the monasteries
after the death of King Edgar; whereof let us hear what the monkish
story of the abbey of Crowland recordeth: The monks being expelled
out of certain monasteries, the clerks again were brought in, who
distributed the manors or farms of the said monasteries to the dukes
and lords of the land, that they, being obliged to them, should
defend them against the monks. And so were the monks of Evesham
thrust out, and the secular clerks placed, and the lands of the
church given to the lords; with whom the queen, the king's step-
mother, holding the same time, took part also with the said clerks
against the king. On the contrary part stood the king and the holy
bishops taking part with the monks. Howbeit the lords and peers of
the realm, staying upon the favour and power of the queen, triumphed
over the monks, &c.

Thus, as much ado there was through all quarters of the realm about
the matter among the lords, so arose no less contention between the
priests and monks of England. The priests, com plaining to the king
and Dunstan, said for themselves that it was uncomely, uncharitable,
yea, and unnatural, to put out an old known dweller for a new
unknown; and that God was not pleased that that should be taken from
the ancient possessor which by God was given him; neither that it
could be of any good man accepted, to suffer any such in jury to be
done, lest peradventure the same thing wherein he was prejudicial to
another might after revert and redound upon himself at length. The
monks, on the other side, said for their part, that Christ allowed
neither the old dweller nor the newcomer, nor yet looked upon the
person, but whoso would take the cross of penance upon him, and
follow Christ in virtuous living, should be his disciple.

These and such other were the allegations of the monks, But whether a
monk's cowl or a wifeless life make a sufficient title to enter into
other men's possessions or no, I refer it to the judgment of the
godly. The troublous cares in marriage, the necessary provision for
housekeeping, the virtuous bringing up of children, the daily helping
of poverty and bearing of public charges, with other manifest
perturbations and cumbrances daily incident unto matrimony, might
rather appear to godly wise men to come nearer to the right cross of
penance than the easy and loitering idleness of monkery. In the end,
upon this controversy was holden a council of bishops and other of
the clergy. First, at Reading, or at Winchester, (as Guliel. saith,)
where the greater part both of the nobles and commons judged the
priests to have great wrong, and sought by all means possible to
bring them again to their old possessions and dignities. Jornalensis
here maketh rehearsal of an image of the crucifix, or a rood,
standing upon the Frater wall where the council was holden. To this
rood Dunstan requireth them all to pray, being belike not ignorant of
some spiritual provision beforehand. In the midst of their prayer the
rood (or else some blind monk behind it in a trunk) through the wall
is reported to speak these words: Absit hoc ut fiat, absit hoc ut
fiat: judicastis bene, mutaretis non bene. In remembrance whereof
these verses were written under the rood's feet:

Humano more crux præsens edidit ore,
Cœlitus affata, quæ perspicis hic subarata,
Absit ut hoc fiat, et cætera tunc memorata.

Of this Dunstanical, or rather Satanical, oracle, Henry maketh no
mention, nor Ranulphus, nor yet Hovedenus, nor Fabian, in their
histories. Gulielmus in his book De Regibus reporteth it, but by
hearsay, in these words, saying, Aliæ literæ decent, &c. Wherefore
the less it seemeth to be of credit. Albeit if it were of credible
truth, yet it proveth in this matter nothing else but Dunstan to be a
sorcerer, as Polydor Virgil also himself seemeth to smell something
in this matter.

Notwithstanding, for all this yet the strife ceased not; insomuch
that a new assembly of the clergy and other was appointed after at a
place called the Street of Calve, where the council was kept in an
upper loft. In this council many grievous plaints were objected (as
Malmesbury saith) against Dunstan; but yet he kept his opinion, and
would not there remove from that which he began to maintain. And
while they were in great contention and argument which way should be
admitted and allowed, (if it be true that in the stories is written,)
suddenly the joists of the loft failed, and the people with the
nobles fell down, so that certain were slain, and many hurt. But
Dunstan (they say, only standing upon a post of the floor which
remained unbroken) escaped without danger. Which thing, whether it so
happened to portend before the ruin of the realm and of the nobles
(as Henry Huntington doth expound it) which after ensued by the
Danes, or whether it was so wrought by Dunstan's sorcery, (as was not
unpossible,) or whether it were a thing but feigned of the monkish
writers, and not true; all this I leave to the readers, to think
therein what them liketh. The stories say further that upon this the
matter ceased, and Dunstan had all his will.

These things thus done at Calve, it happened not long after the same,
that King Edward, whom the writers describe to be a virtuous and a
meek prince, much pitiful and beneficial to the poor, about the
fourth year of his reign came upon a season from hunting in the
forest alone, without the company of his servants, to the place in
the west country where Alfrith his mother, with her son Egelred, did
lie. When the queen the mother was warned of his coming by her men,
anon she calleth a servant of hers which was of her special trust,
opening to him all her conceived counsel, and showing him all points
how and what to do for the accomplishing of her wicked purpose. Which
thing so done, she made towards the king, and received him with all
courtesy, desiring him to tarry that night; but he in like courtesy
excused himself, and for speed desired to see his brother, and to
drink upon his horse sitting, the which was shortly brought.
(Illustration: The Murder of King Edward the Martyr )

Now while the cup was at his mouth, the servant of the queen (being
informed) struck him in the body with a long two-edged dagger. After
the which stroke the king took the horse with the spurs, and ran
toward the way where he supposed to meet with his company, but he
bled so sore that, with faintness, he fell from his horse, his one
foot being in the stirrup. By reason whereof he was drawn of his
horse over fields and lands till he came to a place named Corifgate,
where he was found dead; and for that neither the manner of his death
nor yet he himself was known to be the king, he was buried
unhonourably at the town of Warham, where the body remained the space
of three years, and then after was taken up by Duke Alfer above
mentioned, and with pomp and honour accordingly was removed to the
minster of Shaftsbury, and there bestowed in the place called
Edwardstow. Many tales run (more perchance than be true) concerning
the finding and taking up of his body, which our most common
histories ascribe to miracles and great wonders wrought about the
place where the king was buried. As, first, how a poor woman born
blind received her sight by the means of St. Edward, there where he
did lie. Also how a pillar of fire from heaven descended over the
place of his burial. Then how the foresaid Queen Alfrith, taking her
horse to go to the place, was stopped by the way, that neither her
horse could be driven by any means, nor she herself on foot was able
to approach near to the place where the corpse of St. Edward was.
Furthermore, how the said queen, in repentance of her fact, afterward
builded two nunneries, one at Amesbury, by Salisbury, the other at
Werewell, where she kept herself in continual repentance all the days
of her life. And thus, as ye have heard, was this virtuous young King
Edward murdered when he had reigned almost four years, leaving no
issue behind him, whereby the rule of the land fell to Egelredus, his
brother.

But here by the way is to be noted (upon the name of this Edward)
that there were three Edwards before the conquest. The first was King
Edward the Senior; the second, King Edward the Martyr, which was this
king; the third was King Edward called the Confessor, whereof here
after shall follow (Christ willing) to be declared.



28. KING EGELRED OR ETHELRED, "THE UNREADY"

King Edward thus being murdered, as is aforesaid, the crown fell next
to Egelred, his younger brother, and son to King Edgar by the
foresaid Queen Alfrith, as we have declared. This Egelred had a long
reign given him of God, which dured the term of eight and thirty
years, but very unfor tunate and full of great miseries; and he
himself (by the histories) seemeth to be a prince not of the greatest
courage to govern a common wealth. Our English stories writing of
him, thus report of his reign, that in the beginning it was
ungracious, wretched in the middle, and hateful in the latter end. Of
this Egelred it is read, that when Dunstan the archbishop should
christen him, as he did hold him over the font, something there
happened that pleased not Dunstan, whereupon he sware, By the mother
of Christ, he will be a prince untoward and cowardly. I find in
William of Malmesbury, that this Egelred, being of the age of ten
years, when he heard of his brother Edward to be slain, made such
sorrow and weeping for him, that his mother, falling therewith in a
rage, took wax candles, (having nothing else at hand,) wherewith she
scourged him so sore, (well near till he swooned,) that after the
same he could never abide any wax candles to burn before him. After
this, about the year of our Lord 981, (the day of his coronation 
being appointed by the queen the mother, and the nobles,) Dunstan the
archbishop of Canterbury, (who first refused so to do,) with Oswald
archbishop of York, were enforced to crown the king, and so they did
at Kingston. In doing whereof the report of stories goeth, that the
said Dunstan should say thus, prophesying, unto the king: that
forsomuch as he came to the kingdom by the death of his brother, and
through the conspiracy of the wicked conspirators and other English
men, they should not be without bloodshedding and sword, till there
came a people of an unknown tongue, and should bring them into
thraldom, neither should that trespass be cleansed without long
vengeance, &c.

Not long after the coronation of this king, a cloud was seen
throughout the land, which appeared the one half like blood, and the
other half like fire, and changed after into sundry colours, and
vanished at the last in the morning. Shortly after the appearance of
this cloud, in the third year of his reign, the Danes, arriving in
sundry places of the land, first spoiled Southampton, either slaving
the inhabitants, or leading them captive away. From thence they went
to the Isle of Thanet, then they invaded Chester, from thence they
proceeded to Cornwall and Devonshire, and so to Sussex, where in
those coasts they did much harm, and so retired to their ships again.
Roger Hoveden, writing hereof, saith, that London the same time, or
(as Fabian saith) a great part of London, was consumed with fire.
About this time fell a variance between the foresaid Egelred and the
bishop of Rochester; insomuch that he made war against him, and
besieged the city. And notwithstanding that Dunstan required the
king, sending him admonishment, to give over for the sake of St.
Andrew; yet continued he his siege, till the bishop offered him a
hundred pounds of gold; which he received, and so departed. The Danes
seeing the discord that then was in the realm, and especially the
hatred of the subjects against the king, rose again, and did great
harm in divers places of England; insomuch that the king was glad to
grant them great sums of money for peace to be had. For the assurance
of which peace, Analaffe, captain of the Danes, became a Christian
man, and so returned home to his country, and did no more harm.
Besides these miseries before recited, a sore sickness of the bloody
flux and hot fevers fell among the people, whereof many died; with a
like murrain also among the beasts. Moreover, for lack of justice,
many thieves, rioters, and bribers were in the land, with much misery
and mischief.

About the eleventh year (some say the ninth year) of this king's
reign died Dunstan. After whom succeeded Ethelgarus, or, as
Jornalensis writeth, Stilgarus. After him Elfricus, as affirmeth
Gulielmus; but, as Polydorus saith, Siricius. After him Elfricus
came; but Siricius, after the mind of Gulielmus; but Polydore saith
Aluricius, then Elphegus, &c.

About the same time, in the year of our Lord 995, Aldunus, bishop,
translated the body of St. Cuthbert from Chester (which first was at
a northern island, next at Rochester) to Durelme, or Dunelme. Where
upon the bishop's see of Dunelme first began.

Not long after the death of Dunstan, the Danes again entered England
in many and sundry places of the land; in such sort, that the king
was to seek to which coast he should go first to withstand his
enemies. But in conclusion, for the avoiding of more harm, he was
compelled to appease them with great sums of money. But when that
money was spent, they fell to new robbing of the people, and
assailing the land in divers places, not only about the country of
Northumberland, but also besieged the city of London at the last. But
being from thence repelled by the manhood of the Londoners, they
strayed to other countries adjoining, as to Essex, Kent, Sussex, and
Hampshire, burning and killing wheresoever they went; so that, for
lack of a good head or governor, many things in the land perished.
For the king gave himself to the vice of lechery, and polling of his
subjects, and disinherited men of their possessions, and caused them
to redeem the same again with great sums of money; for he paid great
tributes to the Danes yearly, which was called Danegelt. Which
tributes so increased, that from the first tribute of ten thousand
pounds, it was brought at last in process of five or six years to
forty thousand pounds. The which yearly (until the coming of St.
Edward, and after) was levied of the subjects of this land.

To this sorrow moreover was joined hunger and penury among the
commons, insomuch that every one of them was constrained to pluck and
steal from others. So that, what for the pillage of the Danes, and
what by inward thieves and bribers, this land was brought into great
affliction. Albeit the greatest cause of this affliction (as to me
appeareth) is not so much to be imputed to the king as to the
dissension among the lords themselves, who then did not agree one
with another. But when they assembled in consultation together,
either they did draw divers ways; or if any thing were agreed upon
any matter of peace between the parties, soon it was broken again; or
else if any good thing were devised for the prejudice of the enemy,
anon the Danes were warned thereof by some of the same counsel. Of
whom the chief doers were Edrike, duke of Mercia, and Alfrike, the
admiral or captain of the ships, who betrayed the king's navy to the
Danes. Wherefore the king apprehended Alfagarus son of the said
Alfrike, put out his eyes, and so did he after to the two sons of
Duke Edrike in like manner.

The Danes, thus prevailing more and moreover the Englishmen, grew in
such pride and presumption, that when they by strength caused the
husbandmen to ear and sow the land, and to do all other vile labour
belonging to the house, they would sit at home, holding the wife at
their pleasure, with daughter and servant. And when the husbandman
came home, he should scantly have of his own, as his servants had; so
that the Dane had all at his will and fill, faring of the best, when
the owner scantly had his fill of the worst. Thus the common people,
being of them oppressed, were in such fear and dread, that not only
they were constrained to suffer them in their doings, but also glad
to please them, and called every one of them, in the house where they
had rule, Lord Dane. Which word after (in process of time, when the
Danes were voided) was, for despite of the Danes, turned of the
Englishmen to a name of opprobry, that when one Englishman would
rebuke another, he would for the more part call him Lurdane.

And thus hitherto (through the assistance of Christ) we have brought
this history to the year of our Lord 1000. During now and continuing
these great miseries upon this English nation, the land being brought
into great ruin by the grievous tributes of the Danes, and also by
sustaining the manifold villanies and injuries, as well by them as by
other oppressions within this realm; this year, which was the year of
our Saviour 1000, this Egelred, through the counsel of certain his
familiars about him, in the one and twentieth year of his reign began
a matter, which was occasion, either given by the one, or taken by
the other, of a new plague to ensue upon the Saxons, who had driven
out the Britons before; that was in joining with the Normans in
marriage. For the king this year above said, for the more strength
(as he thought) both of him and the realm, married Emma, the daughter
of Richard, duke of Normandy. Which Richard was the third duke of the
Normans, and the first of that name. By reason of which marriage King
Egelred was not a little enhanced in his own mind; and, by
presumption thereof, sent secret and strict commissions to the rulers
of every town in England, that, upon St. Brice's day, at an hour
appointed, the Danes should be suddenly slain. And so it was
performed, which turned after to more trouble.

After that tidings came into Denmark of the murder of those Danes,
anon after, Swanus, king of Denmark, with a great host and navy,
landed in Cornwall; where, by treason of a Norman named Hugh, which
by favour of Queen Emma was made earl of Devonshire, the said Swanus
took Exeter, and after beat down the walls. From thence, proceeding
further into the land, they came to Wilton and Shirebome, where they
cruelly spoiled the country, and slew the people. But anon Swanus,
hearing that the king was coming to him with the power of his land,
took his ships and went round to Northfolke; where, after much
wasting of that country, and spoiling the city of Norwich, and
burning the town of Thetford, and destroying the country thereabout,
at length Duke Uskatell met him and beat him, and slew many of the
Danes. Wherefore Swanus for that year returned to Denmark, and there
made great provision to re-enter the land again the next year
following; and so did, landing at Sandwich about the five and
twentieth year of the reign of King Egelred, and there spoiled that
country. And as soon as he heard of any host of Englishmen coming
toward him, then he took shipping again. So that when the king's army
sought to meet him in one coast, then would he suddenly land in
another. And when the king provided to meet with him upon the sea,
either they would feign to flee, or else they would with gifts blind
the admiral of the king's navy. And thus wearied they the Englishmen,
and in conclusion brought them into extreme and unspeakable misery.
Insomuch that the king was fain to take peace with them, and gave to
King Swanus thirty thousand pounds. After which peace thus made,
Swanus returned again to Denmark.

But this peace continued not long. For the year next following, King
Egelred made Edricus above mentioned duke of Mercia, who was subtle
of wit, glossing and eloquent of speech, untrusty, and false to the
king and the realm. And soon after one Turkillus (a prince of the
Danes) landed in Kent with much people, and there did such harm, that
the Kentish men were fain to make peace with great gifts, and so
thence departed. But this persecution of the Danes (in one country or
other in England) never ceased, nor the king did ever give to them
any notable battle. For when he was disposed to give them battle,
this Edricus would ever counsel him to the contrary; so that the
Danes ever spoiled and robbed, and waxed rich, and the Englishmen
ever poor and bare.

After this, Swanus being in Denmark, and hearing of the increase of
his people in England, brake his covenants before made, and with a
great army and navy, in most defensible wise appointed, landed in
Northumberland, proclaimed himself to be king of this land. Where,
after much vexation, when he had subdued the people, and caused the
earl with the rulers of the country to swear to him fealty, he passed
the river of Trent to Ganishurgh, and to Northwatling Street, and
subduing the people there forced them to give him pledges; which
pledges he committed with his navy unto Canutus his son to keep,
while he went further into the land; and so with a great host came to
Mercia, killing and slaying. Then he took by strength Winchester and
Oxford, and did there what him liked. That done, he came toward
London, and hearing the king was there, passed by the river Thames,
and came into Kent, and there besieged Canterbury, where he was
resisted the space of twenty days. At length, by treason of a deacon, 
called Almaricus, (whom the bishop had preserved from death before,)
he won it, and took the goods of the people, and fired the city, and
tithed the monks of St. Augustine's abbey (that is to mean, they slew
nine by cruel torment, and the tenth they kept alive as for their
slave). So they slew there of religious men to the number of nine
hundred persons; of other men, women, and children, they slew above
eight thousand. And, finally, when they had kept the bishop Elphegus
in strait prison the space of seven months, because he would not
condescend to give unto them three thousand pounds; after many
vilanies unto him done, they brought him to Greenwich, and there
stoned him to death.

King Egelred, in the mean time, fearing the end of this persecution,
sent his wife Emma, with his two sons Alfred and Edward, to the duke
of Normandy, with whom also he sent the bishop of London. The Danes
proceeded still in their fury and rage, and when they had won a great
part of West Saxony, they returned again to London. Whereof the
Londoners hearing, sent unto them certain great gifts and pledges. At
last the king, about the five and thirtieth year of his reign, was
chased unto the Isle of Wight, and with a secret company he spent
there a great part of the winter; and, finally, without cattle or
comfort, sailed into Normandy to his wife. Swanus being ascertained
thereof, (inflamed with pride,) reared exceeding impositions upon the
people. And among other he required a great sum of money of St.
Edmund's lands, which the people there claiming to be free from
kings' tributes, denied to pay. For this Swanus entered the territory
of St. Edmund, and wasted and spoiled the country, despising the holy
martyr, and menacing also the place of his sepulture. Wherefore the
men of that country, fearing his tyranny, fell to prayer and fasting,
so that shortly after Swanus died suddenly, crying and yelling among
his knights. Some say that he was stricken with the sword of St.
Edmund, whereof he died the third day after.

In fear whereof Canutus, his son, which ruled as king after his
father, granted them the freedom of all their liberties; and,
moreover, ditched the land of the said martyr with a deep ditch, and
granted to the inhabitants thereof great freedoms, quitting them from
all task or tribute; and after builded a church over the place of his
sepulture, and ordained there a house of monks, and endowed them with
rich possessions. And after that time it was used, that kings of
England, when they were crowned, sent their crowns for an offering to
St. Edmund's shrine, and redeemed the same again afterwards with a
condign price.

When King Egelred heard of the death of Swanus, he made provision,
and returned into England. For whose sudden coming Canutus, being
unprovided, fled to Sandwich, and there cutting off the noses and
hands of the pledges, which his father left with him, sailed into
Denmark; who the next year returned again with a great navy, and
landed in the south country. Wherefore the eldest son of King
Egelred, called Edmund Ironside, made provision, with the aid of
Edrike, duke of Mereia, to meet him. But Edrike, feigning himself
sick, came not, but deceived him. For, as it was after proved, Edrike
had promised his allegiance to Canutus. By reason whereof Canutus
entered the country of West Saxon, and forced the people to be sworn
unto him, and to give him pledges. In this season, King Egelred,
being at London, was taken with great sickness, and there died, and
was buried in the north side of Paul's church, behind the quire,
after he had reigned unprosperously thirty and six years; leaving
after him his said eldest son Edmund Ironside, and Alfred, and
Edward, which which were in Normandy, sent thither before, as is
above rehearsed. This Egelred, although he was miserably impugned and
vexed of his enemies, yet he, with his council, gave forth wholesome
laws, whereof there is one parcel, containing good rules and lessons
for all judges and justices to learn and follow.

Of this King Egelred I find noted in the book of Roger Hoveden, that
he deposed and deprived from all possessions a certain judge or
justicer named Walgeatus, the son of one Leonet, for false judgment
and other proud doings, whom, notwithstanding, he loved above all
others.



29. KINGS EDMUND IRONSIDE, CANUTE AND HARDEKNOUT

After the death of Egelred, variance fell between the Englishmen for
the election of their king. For the citizens of London, with certain
other lords, named Edmund, the eldest son of Egelred, (a young man of
lusty and valiant courage,) in martial adventures both hardy and
wise, who could very well endure all pains; wherefore he was surnamed
Ironside. But the more of the lords favoured Canute the son of
Swanus, especially the abbots, bishops, and men of the spirituality,
which before had sworn to his father. By means whereof between these
two martial princes were fought many great battles, first in
Dorsetshire, where Canute was compelled to fly the field. And after
that they fought another battle in Worcestershire, so sore that none
could tell who had the better, but either for weariness, or for lack
of day, they departed one from the other, and on the next morrow
fought again; but then Canute was compelled to forsake the field.
After this they met in Mercia, and there fought again, where Edmund,
(as stories say,) by the treason of that false Edrike duke of Mercia.
(whom he before had received to favour,) had the worse. Thus many
great conflicts there were between these two princes. But upon a
season, when the hosts were ready to join, and a certain time of
truce was taken before battle, a knight of the party of Edmund stood
up upon a high place, and said these words:

"Daily we die, and none hath the victory; and when the knights be
dead on either part, then the dukes compelled by need shall accord,
or else they must fight alone. And this kingdom is not sufficient for
two men, which sometimes sufficed seven, But if the covetousness of
lordship in these twain be so great, that neither can be content to
take part and live by the other, nor the one under the other, then
let them fight alone that will be lords alone. If all men fight
still, at the last all men shall be slain, and none left to be under
their lordship, nor able to defend the king that shall be against
strange enemies and nations."

These words were so well allowed of both the hosts and princes, that
both were content to try the quarrel between them two only. Then the
place and time was appointed where they both met in sight of both
hosts. And when either had assayed other with sharp swords and
strokes, first by the motion of Canute (as some write) hastily they
were both agreed, and kissed each other to the comfort of both hosts.
And shortly after they agreed upon partition of the land; and after
that, during their lives, they loved as brethren. Soon after, a son
of wicked Edricus, hy the mind (as appeared afterward) of his father,
espied when King Edmund was at the draught, and with a spear (some
say with a long knife) thrust him into the fundament, whereof the
said Edmund shortly after died, after that he had reigned two years.
He left behind him two sons, Edmund and Edward, whom Edrike, the
wicked duke, after the death of their father, took from their mother,
(not knowing yet of the death of Edmund her husband,) and presented
them to King Canute, saluting him in these words, Ave rex solus. Thus
Canute, after the death of Edmund Ironside, was king alone of the
whole realm of England, and afterward, by the advice of his council,
he sent the foresaid sons of Edmund Ironside to his brother Swanus,
king of Sweveland, to be slain, who, abhorring that deed, sent them
to Salomon, king of Hungary, where Edmund, being married to the
king's daughter, died; Edward was married to Agatha, daughter of his
brother Henry the fourth, emperor.

When Canute was stablished in the kingdom, he called a parliament at
London, where (among other things there debated) it was propounded to
the bishops, barons, and lords of the parliament there present,
whether that, in the composition made between Edmund and Canute, any
special remembrance was made for the children or brethren of Edmund,
for any partition of any part of the land. Whereunto the English
lords, falsely flattering the foreign king, and speaking against
their own minds, as also against their native country, answered and
said, Nay; affirming moreover with an oath (for the king's pleasure)
that they to the uttermost of their powers would put off the blood of
Edmund in all that they might. By reason of which answer and promise
they thought (many of them) to have purchased with the king great
favour. But by the just retribution of God it chanced far otherwise.
For many of them, or the most part, (such especially as Canute did
perceive to he sworn beforetime to Edmund and his heirs, and also
considering that they were native Englishmen,) he mistrusted and
disdained ever after. Insomuch that some he exiled, a great sort he
beheaded, and some by God's punishment died suddenly. Among whom
wicked Edrike also, the traitor, (although with his sugared words he
continued a while in the king's favour,) at length escaped not
condign reward for his deceivable dealing. For (as the history of
Jornalensis recordeth) as the king was in his palace beyond Thames,
this Edrike, (being belike accused, or else suspected of the king
before,) coming unto him, began to reckon up his benefits and labours
bestowed for his sake. First, in forsaking and betraying Egelred,
then in slaying King Edmund his son, with many such other deeds more,
which all for his sake he had done. Well, saith the king, thou hast
here rightly judged thyself, and worthily thou shalt die for slaying
thy natural prince, and my sworn brother. And so commanded him to be
bound immediately hand and foot, and to be thrown into the Thames.
Some stories say, that when he had saluted the king with, Hail, king
alone, and showed him the slaying of Edmund, Canute (promising that
he would make him therefore higher than all the lords of the realm)
commanded his head to be stricken off, and to be set upon London
bridge, and his body to be cast into the town ditch; and thus with
shame ended he his wretched life, as all they commonly do which with
like dissimulation seek the destruction of their prince, and of their
country.

This Canute (shortly after the death of King Edmund) exiled Edmund by
the counsel of Edrike, who was brother unto King Edmund, called Rex
runkonnn, The king of churls. But afterward he was reconciled again
to the king's favour, and lastly slain by certain of the king's
secretaries or servants. Also through the counsel of the said Edrike,
and of Emma his wife, he sent the two sons of Edmund Ironside (Edmund
and Edward) to his brother Swanus, king of Denmark, to be slain, as
is abovesaid.

In this mean time, Swanus king of Denmark, brother to Canute, died.
Wherefore that land fell to Canute, which anon after sailed thither,
and took thereof possession. And after he had set it in an order, he
returned into England, and married Emma, late wife before of Egelred,
and by her had a son called Hardeknight, or Hardeknoutus. Moreover,
this Canute assembled a parliament at Oxford, where it was agreed
that Englishmen and Danes should hold the laws made by King Edgar,
because they were thought so good and reasonable above any other
laws.

Thus the Danes being in England began by little and little to be
Christian men. And Canute went to Rome, and so, returning again to
England, governed that land the space of twenty years, leaving after
him two sons, Harold and Hardeknoutus; which Hardeknoutus was made
king of Denmark in his father's time.

Harold, (called Harefoot for his activity and swiftness,) son to
Canute by Elgina his first wife, began his reign over England in the
year 1039. Of him is little left in memory, (for he reigned but four
years,) save that he banished his step mother Emma, and took her
goods and jewels from her.

Hardeknoutus, being king of Denmark, and second son to Canute by his
last wife Emma, was next king of England. in the time of these Danish
kings, there was one Godwin, an earl, in England, which had been
before in great favour with Canute, for his acts done in Denmark
against the Norwegians; and afterward married the sister (some say
the daughter) of Canute. This Godwin was of a cruel and subtle wit,
as he declared no less by the two sons of King Egelred. For when
these two aforesaid (whose names were Alfred and Edward) came from
Normandy into England, to visit their mother Emma, and brought with
them a great company of Normans, this Godwin, (having a daughter
called Godith, whom he thought to marry to Edward, and set him up to
be king,) to bring his purpose about, used this practice, that is, to
persuade King Hardeknout and the lords not to suffer those Normans to
be within the realm for jeopardy, but rather to punish them for
example; by which means he gat authority to order the matter himself.
Wherefore he met them on Guild Down, and there most wretchedly
murdered, or rather martyred, the most number of the Normans, and
that innocently. For as Swanus before had tithed the monks of
Canterbury; so he, with the cruel company of English soldiers, slew
nine of the said Normans, and saved the tenth. And yet, passing the
fury of Swanus, (as not contented with that tyranny,) he tithed again
the said tithe, and slew every tenth knight, and that by cruel
torment, as winding their guts out of their bodies, as writeth
Ranulphus. And, among others, he put out the eyes of the elder
brother Alfredus, and sent him to an abbey of Ely; where he, being
fed with bread and water, endured not long after. Of some writers it
was recorded, that he was there slain with the forenamed torment, and
that Edward was conveyed by some other unto his mother; who, fearing
the treason of Godwin, sent him soon over the sea into Normandy
again. This cruel fact of Godwin and his men against the innocent
Normans, whether it came of himself, or of the king's setting on,
seemeth to me to be the cause why the justice of God did shortly
after revenge the quarrel of these Normans, in conquering and
subduing the English nation by William the Conqueror, and the Normans
which came with him. For so just and right it was, that as the
Normans, coming with a natural English prince, were murdered of
Englishmen; so afterward the Englishmen should be slain and conquered
by the Normans, coming with a foreign king, being none of their
natural country.

Then it followeth in the story, that this King Canute, or Hardeknout,
when he had reigned two years, (being merry at Lambeth,) suddenly was
stricken dumb, and fell down to the ground, and within eight days
after died without issue of his body; who was the last that reigned
in England of the blood of the Danes.

This foresaid Godwin had by the daughter of Canute his wife but one
son, which was drowned. Of his second wife he received six sons, to
wit, Swanus, Harold, Tostius, Wilmot, Sirth, or Surth, and Leofric,
with one daughter called Goditha, which after was married to King
Edward the Confessor.

Concerning the story of this Alfred, I find it something otherwise
reported in our English chronicles, that it should be after the death
of Hardeknout; forsomuch as the earls and barons, after his death,
assembled and made a council, that never after any of the Danes'
blood should be king of England, for the despite that they had done
to Englishmen. For evermore before, if the Englishmen and the Danes
had happened to meet upon a bridge, the Englishmen should not be so
hardy to move a foot, but stand still till the Danes were passed
forth. And moreover, if the Englishmen had not bowed down their heads
to do reverence unto the Danes, they should have been beaten and
defiled. For the which despites and villanies they were driven out of
the land after the death of Hardeknout; for they had no lord that
might maintain them. And after this manner avoided the Danes out of
England, that they never came again.

The earls and barons, by their common assent and counsel, sent unto
Normandy for these two brethren, Alfred and Edward; intending to
crown Alfred the elder brother, and to make him king of England. And
to this the earls and barons made their oath; but the Earl Godwin of
Westsax (falsely and traitorously) thought to slay these two brethren
as soon as they came into England, to the intent that he might make
Harold his son king; which son he had by his wife Hardeknout's
daughter, that was a Dane. And so this Godwin went privily to
Southampton, to meet there with the two brethren at their landing.
And thus it fell, that the messengers that went (saith mine author)
into Normandy found but only Alfred the elder brother. For Edward his
younger brother was gone to Hungary, to speak with his cousin the
outlaw, which was Edmund Ironside's son.

When Alfred had heard these messengers, and perceived their tidings,
he thanked God, and in all haste sped him to England, arriving at
Southampton. There Godwin the false traitor (having knowledge of his
coming) welcomed and received him with much joy, pretending to lead
him unto London, where the barons waited for to make him king, and so
they together passed forth toward London. But when they came to Guild
Down, the traitor commanded all his men to slay all that were in
Alfred's company which came with him from Normandy; and after that,
to take Alfred, and to lead him into the Isle of Ely, where they
should put out both his eyes; and so they did. For they slew all the
company that were there, to the number of twelve gentlemen, which
came with Alfred from Normandy; and after that they took Alfred, and
in the Isle of Ely they executed their commission.

That done, they opened his body, took out his bowels, set a stake
into the ground, and fastened an end of his bowels thereunto, and
with needles of iron they pricked his tender body, thereby causing
him to go about the stake till that all his bowels were drawn out.
And so died this innocent Alfred or Alured, being the right heir of
the crown, through treason of wicked Godwin. When the lords of
England heard thereof, and how Alfred, that should have been their
king, was put to death through the false traitor Godwin, they were 
wondrous wroth; and sware between God and them, that he should die a
worse death than did Edrike, which betrayed his lord, Edmund
Ironside; and would immediately have put him to death, but that the
traitor fled thence into Denmark, and there held him four years and
more, and lost all his lands in England.

Another Latin story I have, (bearing no name,) which saith that this
coming in of Alfred and the Normans was in the time of Harold,
Canute's son. And how Godwin (after he pretended great amity to them)
suddenly in the night came upon them at Gilford, and after he had
tithed the Normans, sent Alfred to Harold at London; who sent him to
the Isle of Ely, and caused his eyes to be put out.

And thus much of Canute, and of his sons, Harold and Hardecanute,
Besides these two sons, Canute had also a daughter named Gunilda,
married to Henricus the emperor. Of whom some write, that she being
accused to the emperor of spouse-breach, and having no champion or
knight that would fight for her, (after the manner of that country,)
for trial of her cause, a certain little dwarf or boy, whom she
brought with her out of England, (stirred up of God,) fought in her
cause against a mighty big German of a monstrous greatness, which
silly dwarf, cutting by chance the sinews of his leg, after struck
him to the ground, and so cut off his head, and saved the life of the
queen, if it be true that Gulielmus and Fabianus reporteth.

Of this Canute it is storied, that he following much the superstition
of Achelnot, archbishop of Canterbury, went on pilgrimage to Rome,
and there founded an hospital for English pilgrims. He gave the pope
precious gifts, and burdened the land with a yearly tribute, called
the Rome-shot. He shrived the body of Berinus, and gave great lands
and ornaments to the cathedral church of Winchester; he builded St.
Benet's in Northfolke, which was before an hermitage. Also St.
Edmunsbury, which King Athelstan before ordained for a college of
priests, he turned to an abbey of monks of St. Benet's order.

Henricus, archdeacon of Huntington, maketh mention of this Canute, as
doth also Polydore, that he, after his coming from Rome, walking upon
a time by the port of Southampton, but, as Polydore saith, and Fabian
affirmeth the same, that it was by the Thames side of London, when
his flatterers coming about him, began to exalt him up with high
words, calling him a king of all kings, (most mighty,) who had under
his subjection both the people, the land, and also the sea: Canute
revolving this matter in his mind, (whether for pride of his heart
exalted, or whether to try and refel their flattering words,)
commanded his chair of state to be brought to the sea side, at what
time it should begin to flow. Polydore saith that no seat was
brought; but sitting upon his garments, being folded together under
him, there charged and commanded the floods, arising and coming
towards his feet, that they should touch neither him nor his clothes.
But the water, keeping its ordinary course, came nearer and nearer;
first to his feet, and so growing higher, began to wash him well-
favouredly. Wherewith the king abashed, and partly also afraid.
started back, and looking to his lords; Lo, (saith he,) ye call me
such a mighty king, and yet can I not command back this little water
to stay at my word, hot it is ready to drown me. Wherefore all
earthly kings may know that all their powers be but vain, and that
none is worthy to have the name of a king but He alone which hath all
things subject to the power and authority of his word, which is the
Lord of heaven and earth, the Creator above of all things, the Father
of our Christ and Lord, who with him for ever is to be glorified; him
let us worship and extol for our King for ever. After this, (as
histories witness,) he never suffered the crown to come upon his
head, but went to Winchester, or (as some say) to Canterbury: but
both those may be true; for his going to Canterbury was to
acknowledge that there was a Lord much higher and of more power than
he himself was, and tlmerewithal to render up his crown for ever.
With that, Egelnothus, archbishop of Canterbury, informed him of the
image of the crucifix before mentioned, which dissolved the matter
between married priests and life of monks, and did many other
miracles more, being then at Winchester. Wherewith the king, provoked
to go to Winchester to the rood, there resigned up his regal crown,
and made the rood king over all the land.

Here is also to be noted in this Canute, that although (as is said)
he condescended in the beginning of his reign upon King Edgar's laws;
yet after, in process of time, he set forth peculiar laws of his own.
Among which divers there be that concern as well causes
ecclesiastical as also temporal. Whereby it may appear, that the
government of spiritual matters did not depend then of the bishop of
Rome; but appertained to the lawful authority of the temporal prince,
no less than of matters and causes temporal. As, for example, by the
ordinances of the aforesaid Canute may be well considered.

And here an end of the Danish kings. Now to the English kings again,
whose right line cometh in again in Edward here following.



30. KING EDWARD THE CONFESSOR

Forsomuch as God of his mercy and providence, who is only the maker
of heirs, thought it so good, after the woeful captivity of this
English nation, to grant now some respite of deliverance, in taking
away the Danish kings without any issue left behind them; who
reigning here in England, kept the English people in miserable
subjection about the space of eight and twenty years, and from their
first landing in the time of King Brightricus wasted and vexed this
land the term of 255 years. Now their tyranny here coming to an end,
the next election and right of the crown fell (as appertained) to
Edward, the younger son of King Egelred and Emma, a mere Englishman;
who had been now long banished in Normandy, as is above declared; a
man of gentle and soft spirit, more appliable to other men's counsels
than able to trust to his own; of nature and condition so given from
all war and bloodshed, that being in his banishment, he wished rather
to continue all his life long in that private estate, than by war or
bloodshed to aspire to any kingdom. This Edward, after the death of
Canute the Second, or Hardicanute, being sent for of the lords into
Normandy, to take possession of the realm, although he something
mistrusted the unconstant and fickle heads of Englishmen, (yet having
sufficient pledges laid for him in Normandy,) came over, accompanied
with a few Normans, and not long after was crowned at Winchester, in
the year 1043, by Edsius, then archbishop of Canterbury. And not long
after that he married Goditha, or Edithy, daughter of Earl Godwin,
whom he entreated after such sort, that he neither put her from his
bed, nor yet dealt with her fleshly. Whether it were for hate of her
kin, (as most like it was,) or for love of chastity, it remaineth
uncertain. But most writers agree, that he continued his life without
offence with women; for the which he is highly exalted among our
story writers, and called holy King Edward. After he had thus taken 
upon him the government of the realm, he guided the same with much
wisdom and justice the space of four and twenty years, lacking two
months; from whom issued (as out of a fountain) much godliness,
mercy, pity, and liberality toward the poor, gentleness and justice
toward all men, and in all honest life he gave a virtuous example to
his people. He discharged the Englishmen of the great tribute called
Danegelt, which beforetime was yearly levied to the great
impoverishing of the people. He subdued the Scots and the Welchmen,
which in their borders began to rebel against him. In much peace he
continued his reign, having no foreign enemy to assault him; albeit,
as some chronicles do show, certain Danes and Norwegians there were
which intended to set upon England. But as they were taking shipping,
there was brought to them first one bowl, then another, of mead, or
methe, to drink for a good voyage. Thus one cup coming after another,
after drink came drunkenness, after drunkenness followed jangling, of
jangling came strife, and strife turned unto stripes; whereby many
were slain, and the other returned to their home again. And thus the
merciful providence of the Lord despatched that journey.

In the time of this Edward, Emma his mother was accused to be
familiar with Alwin the bishop of Winchester; upon which accusation
(by counsel of Earl Godwin) he took from her many of her jewels, and
caused her to be kept some deal more strictly in the abbey of
Warwell, and the bishop committed to the examination of the clergy,
Polydore saith they were both in prison at Winchester, where she
sorrowing the dishonour both of herself and the bishop, and trusting
upon her conscience, desireth them of justice, offering herself ready 
to abide any lawful trial, yea, although it were with the sharpest.

Then divers of the bishops made labour to the king for them both, and
had obtained, had not Robert, then archbishop of Canterbury, stopped
the suit. Who, not well contented with their labour, said unto them,
My brethren, how dare you defend her which is no woman, but a beast?
She hath defamed her own son the king, and taken her lecherous leman
the bishop. And if it be so, that the woman will purge the priest,
who shall then purge the woman, that is accused to be consenting to
the death of her son Alfred, and procured venom to the poisoning of
her son Edward? But whether she be guilty or guiltless, if she will
go barefooted for herself four steps, and for the bishop five,
continually upon nine ploughshares fire hot, then if she escape
harmless, he shall be assoiled of this challenge, and she also.

To this she granted: the day was appointed, at which day the king and
a great part of his nobles were present, except only Robert the
archbishop. This Robert had been a monk of a house in Normandy, and a
helper of the king in his exile; and so, by the sending for of the
king, came over, and was made, first bishop of London, after
archbishop of Canterbury. Then was she led blindfold unto the place
between two men, where the irons lay burning hot, and passed the nine
shares unhurt. At last saith she, Good Lord, when shall I come to the
place of my purgation? When they then opened her eyes, and she saw
that she was past the pain, she kneeled down, giving God thanks.

Then the king repented, (saith the story,) and restored unto her that
he had before taken from her, and asked her forgiveness. But the
archbishop fled into Normandy.

Near about this time, about the tenth year of his reign, fell passing
great snow from the beginning of January to the seventeenth day of
March. After which ensued a great mortality of men, murrain of
cattle; and by lightning the corn was wonderfully blasted and wasted,

Not long after this, a certain carl of Bologne, who had married King
Edward's sister, came into England; through the occasion of whom,
when execution should be done upon the citizens of Dover, for a fray
between them and the earl's men, variance happened between King
Edward and Earl Godwin, who, perceiving that he could not withstand
the king's malice, (although he gathered a great company to work
therein what he could,) fled into Flanders, and was outlawed with his
five sons. King Edward repudiated his wife, the daughter of the said
Godwin: but the second year after, by mediators, he was reconciled to
the king again, and called from banishment, and for his good bearing
he gave for pledges his two sons, Biornon and Tostius, which were 
sent to the duke of Normandy, there to be kept.

During the time of the outlawry of Godwin, William, bastard duke of
Normandy, came with a goodly company into England to see King Edward,
and was honourably received. To whom the king made great cheer, and
at his return enriched him with great gifts and pleasures; and there
(as some write) made promise to him, that if he died without issue,
the said William should succeed him in the kingdom of England.

In this king's reign lived Marianus Scotus the story writer. As
concerning the end of Earl Godwin, the cruel murderer of Alfred, and
of the Normans, although divers histories diversly do vary, yet in
this the most part do agree, that as he sat at the table with King
Edward at Windsor, it happened one of the cup-bearers, one of Earl
Godwin's sons, to stumble and recover again, so that he shed none of
the drink, whereat Godwin laughed, and said how the one brother had
sustained the other. With which words the king calling to mind his 
brother's death that was slain by Godwin, beheld the earl, saying, So
should my brother Alfred have holpen me, had not Godwin been. Godwin
then, fearing the king's displeasure to be newly kindled, after many
words in excusing himself, said, So might I safely swallow this
morsel of bread, as I am guiltless of the deed. But as soon as he had
received the bread, forthwith he was choked. Then the king commanded
him to be drawn from the table, and so was conveyed by Harold his son
to Winchester, and there buried.

About the thirteenth year of this king's reign, the said King Edward
sent Aldred, bishop of Worcester, to the emperor Henricus the Fourth,
praying him that he would send to the king of Hungary, that his
cousin Edward, son of Edmund Ironside, might come into England,
forsomuch as he intended to make him king after him, which was called
Edward outlaw. The which request was fulfilled, so that he came into
England with his wife Agatha, and with his children, to wit, Edgar
Adeling, Margaret, and Christina. But the year after his return into
this realm this Edward deceased at London, and was buried at
Winchester, or, as Jornalensis saith, at Paul's church in London.
After whose decease the king then received Edgar Adeling his son as
his own child, thinking to make him his heir. But fearing partly the
unconstant mutability of the Englishmen, partly the pride and malice
of Harold the son of Godwin, and of others, (perceiving thereby that
he could not bring that his purpose so well to pass,) directed solemn
ambassadors unto William duke of Normandy, his kinsman, admitting and
assigning him to be his lawful heir, next to succeed after him to the
crown.

After the death of Godwin, Harold his son waxed so in the king's
favour, that he ruled the most and greatest causes of the realm, and
was lieutenant of the king's army, who, with his brother Toston, or
Tostius, (sent by the king against the Welchmen,) subdued their
rebellion. But afterward such envy grew between these two brethren,
for that Tostius saw his brother Harold so greatly advanced in the
king's favour, that at Hertford the said Tostius slew all his
brother's men. Whom, when he had cut in pieces, he powdered their
quarters and mangled parts in barrels of salt, vinegar, wine, and
other liquors. That done, he made a power against his brother Harold
(being king) with the aid of certain Danes and Norwegians, and fought
a battle with him in the north, as after shall follow (God willing)
to be seen. So ungracious were these wicked children of Earl Godwin,
that if they had seen any fair mansion or manor place, they would
slay the owner thereof with all his kindred, and enter the possession
thereof themselves.

At length it came in the mind of this Harold to sail over the sea (as
Polydor saith) unto Normandy, to see his brother Wilnotus, as also
his cousin Hacus, whom the king had sent thither to be kept for
pledges, as ye heard before. Polydore saith these pledges were Tosto
and Biornon; but that cannot be, for Tostius was then in England.
But, as Henricus archdeacon of Huntington saith, his journey was into
Flanders, as seemeth more like. For it is not to be thought that
Harold, who was a doer in the cruel murder of Alfred, and of the
Normans, would venture into Normandy; and therefore more like it is
that his sailing was into Flanders. But as the story proceedeth, he,
being in the course of his sailing, was weather driven by tempest
into the province of Pountith, where he was taken as prisoner, and
sent to Duke William of Normandy, to whom he was made to swear that
he in time following should marry his daughter; and that, after the
death of King Edward, he should keep the land of England to his
behoof, according to the will and mind of Edward, (after some
writers,) and so to live in great honour and dignity next unto him in
the realm. This promise faithfully made to the duke, Harold returneth
into England, with his cousin Hacus, the son of his brother Swanus,
being delivered unto him. But Wilnot, brother of Harold, the duke
keepeth still for performance of the covenants. Thus Harold, I say,
returning home, showeth the king all that he had done in the foresaid
matters, wherewith the king was well contented. Whereby it may be
gathered that King Edward was right well willing that Duke William
should reign after him, and also it seemeth not unlike but that he
had given him his promise thereunto before.

Among all that were true and trusty to King Edward of the English
nobility, none had like commendation, as had Leofric, earl of Mercia
and of Chester. This Leofric purchased many great liberties for the
town of Coventry, and made it free of all manner of things, except
only of horse, which freedom there was obtained by means of his wife
Godina, by riding (as the fame goeth) after a strange manner through
the town. This Leofricus, with his wife Godina, builded also the
abbey of Coventry, and endowed the same with great lands and riches.

You heard a little before of the coming over of Edward called the
outlaw, son of King Edmund Ironside, whom King Edward had purposed to
have made king after him: but soon after his coming over he deceased
at London. This Edward had by his wife Agatha a son and a daughter,
called Edgar Adeling, and Margaret. Which Margaret, being afterward
married to the king of Scots, was the mother of Matild, or Mawd, the
queen of England, and of David, king of Scots, &c.

This virtuous and blessed King Edward, after he had reigned three and
twenty years and seven months, died, and was buried in the monastery
of Westminster, which he had greatly augmented and repaired; but
afterward was more enlarged, after this form which it hath now, by
Henry the Third, son of King John.
(Illustration: The Tomb of Edward the Confessor )

They that write the history of this king here make mention of a dream
or revelation that should be showed to him in time of his sickness;
how that because the peers and bishops of the realm were servants,
not of God, but of the devil, God would give this realm to the hand
of others. And the king desired utterance to be given him, that he
might declare the same to the people, whereby they might repent. It
was answered again, that neither would they so do; or yet if they
did, it should be given to another people. But, because it is a
dream, I let it pass.

Divers laws were before in divers countries of this realm used, as
the law first of Dunuallo Melmucius, with the laws of Mercia, called
Mercenelaga; then the laws of West Saxon kings, as of Jue, Offa,
Alfred, &c., which was called West Saxenelaga; the third were the
laws of Canute, and of Danes, called Danelaga. Of all these laws,
which before were diversly in certain particular countries used and
received, this Edward compiled one universal and common law for all
people through the whole realm, which were called King Edward's laws;
which laws, being gathered out of the best and chiefest of the other
laws, were so just, so equal, and so serving the public profit and
wealth of all estates, that, mine authors say, the people long after
did rebel against their heads and rulers to have the same laws again,
(being taken from them,) and yet could not obtain them.

Furthermore, I read and find in Matthew Paris, that when William the
Conqueror at his coming in did swear to use and practise the same
good laws of Edward, for the common laws of this realm, afterward
(being established in his kingdom) he forswore himself, and placed
his own laws in their room, much worse and obscurer than the other
were, &c.

Notwithstanding, among the said laws of Edward, and in the first
chapter and beginning there of, this I find among the ancient records
of the Guildhall in London: The office of a king, with such other
appurtenances as belong to the realm of Britain, set forth and
described in the Latin style which I thought here not unmeet to be
expressed in the English tongue for them tlmat understood no Latin.
The tenor and meaning whereof thus followeth.

The king, because he is the vicar of the highest King, is appointed
for this purpose, to rule thie earthly kingdom, and the Lord's
people, and above all things to reverence his holy church, to govern
it, and to defend it fronn injuries; to pluck away wicked doers, and
utterly to destroy them. Which unless he do, the name of a king
agreeth not unto him, but he loseth the name of a king, as witnesseth
Pope John; to the which pope Pipinus and Carolus his son (being not
yet kings, but princes under the French king, being not very wise)
did write demanding this question, whether the kings of France ought
so to continue, having but only the name of a king. Unto whom Pope
John an swereth again, that it was convenient to call them kings
which vigilantly do defend and govern the church of God and his
people, following the saying of King David the psalmograph; He shall
not dwell in my house which worketh pride, &c.

Moreover, the king by right and by his office ought to defend and
conserve fully and wholly in all ampleness, without diminution, all
the lands, honours, dignities, rights, and liberties of the crown of
his kingdom. And fnrther, to reduce into their pristine state all
such things as have been dispersed, wasted, and lost, which appertain
to his kingdom. Also the whole and universal land, with all islands
about the same in Norway and Denmark, be appertaining to the crown of
his kingdom, and be of the appurtermances and dignity of the king;
making one monarchy and one kingdom, which sometime was called the
kingdom of Britain, and now the kingdom of England; such bounds and
limits as is above said be appointed and limited to the name of this
kingdom.

Moreover, in the foresaid laws of this King Edward, it followeth in
the same book, where the foresaid Edward, describing the office of a
king, addeth in these words: A king, saith he, ought above all things
to fear God, to love and to observe his commandments, and cause them
to be observed through his whole kingdom. He ought also to keep,
cherish, maintain, and govern the' holy church within his kingdom,
with all integrity and liberty, according to the constitutions of his
ancestors and predecessors, and to defend the same against all
enemies, so that God above all things he honoured, and ever be before
his eyes. He ought also to set up good laws and customs, such as be
wholesome and approved; such as be otherwise, to repeal them, and
thrust them out of his kingdom. Item, he ought to do judgment and
justice in his kingdom, by the counsel of the nobles of his realm,
All these things ought a king in his own person to do, taking his
oath upon the evangelist, and the blessed relics of saints, swearing
in the presence of the whole state of his realm (as well of the
temporality as of the spirituality) before he be crowned of the
archbishops and bishops. Three servants the king ought to have under
him as vassals; fleshly lust, avarice, and greedy desire; whom if he
keep under as his servants and slaves, he shall reign well and
honourably in his kingdom. All things are to be done with good
advisement and premeditation; and that properly belongeth to a king.
For hasty rashness bringeth all things to ruin, according to the
saying of the Gospel, Every kingdom divided in itself shall be
desolate, &c.

After the duty and office of princes thus described, consequently
followeth the institution of subjects, declared in many good and
necessary ordinances very requisite and convenient for public
government. Of the which laws William the Conqueror was compelled,
through the clamour of the people, to take some, but the most part he
omitted, contrary to his own oath at his coronation, inserting and
placing the most of his own laws in his language, to serve his
purpose; and which as yet to this present day in the Norman language
do remain. Now (the Lord willing) let us proceed in the story as in
order followeth.



31. KING HAROLD

Harold, the second son of Earl Godwin, and last king of the Saxons,
notwithstanding that divers of the nobles went with Edgar Adeling,
the next heir after Edmund Ironside; yet he through force and might
contemning the young age of Edgar, and forgetting also his promise
made to Duke William, took upon him to be king of England, An. 1066.
When Harold Harefagar, son of Canaute, king of Norway and Denmark,
heard of the death of King Edward, he came into England with three
hundred ships or more; who then joining with Tostius, brother to the
said Harold, king of England, entered into the north parts, and
claimed the land after the death of Edward, But the lords of the
country arose, and gave them battle, notwithstanding the Danes had
the victory. And therefore Harold, king of England, prepared toward
them in all haste, and gave them another strong battle, and there had
the victory, where also Harold the Dane was slain by the hand of
Harold, king of England; and Tostius was also slain in the battle.
After this victory, Harold waxed proud and covetous, and would not
divide the prey to his knights that had deserved it, but kept it to
himself; where by be lost the favour of many of his knights and
people.

In this mean time, William, duke of Normandy, sent embassage to
Harold, king of England, admonishing him of the covenants that were
agreed between them; which was, to have kept the land to his use
after the death of Edward. But because that the daughter of Duke
William (that was promised to Harold) was dead, Harold thought him
thereby discharged, and said that such a nice foolish promise ought
not to be holden (concerning another's land) without the consent of
the lords of the same; and especially for that he was thereunto for
need or for dread compelled.

Upon these answers received, Duke William, in the mean while that the
messengers went and came, gathered his knights, and prepared his
navy, and had the assent of the lords of his land to aid and assist
him in his journey. And over that, sending unto Rome to Pope
Alexander, concerning his title and voyage into England, the pope
confirmeth him to the same, and sent unto him a banner, willing him
to hear it in the ship wherein himself should sail. Thus Duke
William, being provided of all things concerning his journey, sped
him to the sea side, and took shipping at the haven of St. Valery.
where he tarried a long time ere he might have a convenient wind, for
the which his soldiers murmured, saying it was a wilfulness, and a
thing displeasing God, to desire to have another man's kingdom by
strength, and namely, when God was against it in sending contrary
wind, &c. At the last, the wind shortly after came about, and they
took shipping with a great company, and landed at Hastings in Sussex.

For three causes Duke William entered this land to subdue Harold. One
was, for that it was to him given by King Edward his nephew. The
second was to take wreak for the cruel murder of his nephew Alfred,
King Edward's brother, and of the Normans. which deed he ascribed
chiefly to Harold. The third was, to revenge the wrong done to
Robert, archbishop of Canterbury. which was exiled by the means and
labour of Harold, in the time of King Edward.

Thus, while Harold was in the north, Duke William made so great
speed, that he came to London before the king; out of which he was
holden, till he made good surety that he and his people should pass
through the city without tarrying; which promise he well observing,
passed the bridge, and went over to Sussex, from whence he sent a
monk unto Harold, and proffered him three manner of ways. First,
either to render to him the possession of the land, and so to take it
again of him under tribute, reigning under him; secondly, or else to
abide and stand to the pope's arbitrement betwixt them both; or,
thirdly, to defend this quarrel in his own person against the duke,
and they two only to try the matter by dint of sword, without any
other bloodshedding.

But Harold refused all these offers, saying it should be tried by
dint of swords, and not by one sword and so gathered his people and
joined battle with the Normans, in the place where afterward was
builded the abbey of Battle in Sussex. In the beginning of which
fight the Englishmen kept them in good array, like to vanquish the
Normans; wherefore Duke William caused his men to give back, as
though they fled, whereby the Englishmen followed fast, and broke
their array. Then the Normnans, fiercely giving a charge upon them,
in conclusion obtained the victory through the just providence of
God. Where King Harold, who before had murdered Alfred, the true heir
of the crown, with his company of Normans, so cruelly, was now
wounded of the Normans in the left eye with an arrow, and thereof
incontinent died; although Gerardus saith he fled away to Chester,
and lived after that a monk in the monastery of St. James. Which is
not like, but rather that he was there slain after that he reigned
nine months, and was buried at Waltham (which proveth that he died
not at Chester); and so was he the last that reigned in England of
the blood of Saxons, the which continued (to reckon from Hengistus's
first reign in Kent) by the space of 591 years; and if it be reckoned
from the years of the West Saxons, then it endureth the space of 565
years.

This Duke William and King Edward were by the father's side cousin-
gernnans removed. For Richard the first of that name, which was the
third duke of Normammdy after Rollo, was father to Duke Richard the
second of that name, and brother to Emma, mother to King Edward.
WYhich IJoke Richard the Second was father to Duke Robert, this Duke
William's father.



THE FOURTH BOOK,
CONTAINING ANOTHER THREE HUNDRED YEARS, FROM WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR TO
THE TIME OF JOHN WICKLIFFE,
WHEREIN IS DESCRIBED THE PROUD AND MISORDERED REIGN OF ANTICHRIST
BEGINNING TO STIR IN THE CHURCH OF CHRIST.

32. WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR

WILLIAM, duke of Normandy, surnamed the Conqueror, base son of Duke
Robert, the sixth duke of Normandy, and nephew unto King Edward,
after the foresaid victory obtained against Harold and the
Englishmen, was received king over the realm of England, not so much
by assent, as for fear and necessity of time. For else the Londoners
had promised their assistance to Edgar Atheling to the uttermost of
their power. But being weakened and wasted so greatly in battles
before, and the duke coming so fast upon them, and fearing that they
could not make their party good, submitted themselves. Whereupon the
said William (of a duke made a king) was crowned upon Christmas day,
in the year of our Lord 1067, by the hands of Aldredus, archbishop of
York; forasmuch as at that time Stigand, archbishop of Canterbury,
was absent, or else durst not or would not come in the presence of
the king.

William thus being crowned, did reign over the realm of England the
space of one and twenty years and one month, with great severity and
cruelness toward the Englishmen, burdening them with great tributes
and exactions; which was, to pay of every hide of ground containing
twenty acres six shillings. By means whereof certain parts of the 
land rebelled, and specially the city of Exeter, But at last William
overcame them, and won the city, and punished them grievously. But,
for that and for other stern deeds of William, divers of the lords
departed into Scotland; wherefore he kept the other lords that
tarried the straiter, and exalted the Normans, giving to them the
chief possessions of the land. And forsomuch as he obtained the
kingdom by force and dint of sword, he changed the whole state of the
governance of this commonwealth, and ordained new laws at his own
pleasure, profitable to himself, but grievous and hurtful to the
people; abolishing the laws of King Edward, whereunto notwithstanding
he was sworn before to observe and maintain them. For the which great
commotions and rebellions remained long after among the people (as
histories record) to have the said laws of King Edward revived again.

About the third year of his reign, Harold and Canute, sons of Swanus,
king of Denmark, entered into the north country. The Normans within
York, fearing that the Englishmen would aid the Danes, fired the
suburbs of the town. Whereof the flame was so big, and the wind so
strong, that it reached the city, and burnt a great part thereof,
with the minster of St. Peter, where, no doubt, many worthy works and
monuments of books were consumed. In the time whereof the Danes, by
the favour of some of the citizens, entered the city, and slew more
than three thousand of the Normans. But not long after, King William
chased them out, and drave them to their ships, and took such
displeasure with the inhabitants of that country, that he destroyed
the land from York to Durham, so that nine years after the province
lay waste and unmanured, only except St. John's land of Beverly; and
the people thereof were so strictly kept in penury by the war of the
king, that (as our English story saith) they eat rats, cats, and
dogs, with other vermin.

Also in the fourth year of this king, Malcolm, king of Scots, entered
into Northumberland, and destroyed the country, and slew there many
of the people, both of men, women, and children, after a lamentable
sort, and took some prisoners. But within two years after King
William made such war upon the Scots, that he forced Malcolm their
king to do him homage.

And thus much concerning the outward calamities of this realm under
this foreign conqueror, which is now the fifth time that the said
land, with the inhabitants thereof, hath been scourged by the hand of
God. First, by the Romans in the time of Julius Cæsar; then by the
Scots and Picts (as hath been showed); afterward by the Saxons.
Again, the Saxons or Englishmen did not enjoy the possession of
Britain with long quiet, but were brought in as much subjection
themselves under the Danes as they had brought the Britons before,
(and even much more,) insomuch that through all England, if an
Englishman had met a Dane upon a bridge, he might not stir one foot,
before the Lord Dane (otherwise Lurdane) were past; and then if the
English man had not given low reverence to the Dane at his coming by,
he was sure to be sharply punished, as above hath been declared. This
subjection con tinued almost from the reign of King Ethelwolfus, two
hundred and thirty years, till the reign of King Edward. And yet the
indignation of God thus ceased not, but stirred up the Normans
against them, who conquered and altered the whole realm after their
own purpose; insomuch that besides the innovation of the laws, coins,
and possessions, there was almost in no church of England any English
bishop, but only Normans and foreigners placed through all their
diocess. To such misery was this land then brought, that not only of
all the English nobility not one house was standing, but also it was
thought reproachful to be called an Englishman. This punishment of
God against the English nation writers do assign diversly to divers
causes, (as partly before is touched,) of whom some assign this to be
the cause, as followeth in the words of the story: "That whereas
kings and queens, dukes and prelates, in the primitive time of the
English church, were ready for religion to forsake either liberty or
country, and give themselves to a solitary life; in process of time
they grew to such dissoluteness, that they left no other realm like
unto them in iniquity," &c. Again, some writing of the vision of King
Edward, a little before the invasion of the Normans, testify how the
king, reporting of his own vision, should hear that, for the great
enormity and misbehaviour of the head dukes, bishops, and abbots of
the realm, the kingdom should be given to the hand of their enemies,
after the decease of him, for the space of one hundred years and one
day. Which space was also seen by William the Conqueror, to be one
hundred and fifty years; and that his progeny so long should
continue. Again, some writers, treating of this so great wrath of God
upon the English people, declare the cause thereof as followeth:
"Like as the Englishmen did subdue the Britons, (whom God proposed
for their deservings to exterminate,) and them unjustly did
dispossess of their land; so they should likewise be subdued and
scourged with a double persecution, first by the Danes, and after by
the Normans." Moreover, to these injuries and iniquities done and
wrought by the Englishmen, hitherto recited, let us add also the
cruel villany of this nation, in murdering and tithing the innocent
Normans before; who, coming as strangers with Alfred, the lawful heir
of the crown, were despitefully put to death. Which seemeth to me no
little cause why the Lord (whose doings be always just and right) did
suffer the Normans so to prevail. By the coming in of the which
Normans, and by their quarrel unto the realm, three things we may
note and learn. First, to consider and learn the righteous
retribution and wrath of God from heaven upon all iniquity and
unrighteous dealing of men. Secondly, we may thereby note what it is
for princes to leave no issue or sure succession behind them.
Thirdly, what dangers often do chance to realms publicly by foreign
marriage with other princes, &c.

In the same fourth year of this king, between Easter and Whitsuntide,
was holden a solemn council of the clergy of England at Winchester.
At the which were present two cardinals sent from Pope Alexander the
Second, Peter and John. In this council, the king being there himself
present, were deposed divers bishops, abbots, and priors, (by the
means of the king,) without any evident cause, to the intent his
Normans might be preferred to the rule of the church, as he had
preferred his knights before to the rule of the temporalty, thereby
to stand in more surety of the land. Amongst whom also Stigand,
archbishop of Canterbury, was put down for three causes against him
pretended.

The first was, for that he had holden wrongfully that bishopric,
while Robert the archbishop (above mentioned) was living.

The second was, for that he had received the pall of Benedict V.,
bishop of Rome. Which Benedict, for buying his popedom, had been
deposed, as is showed before.

The third cause was, for that be occupied the said pall without
licence and lawful authority of the court of Rome.

Then Stigand well proved the benevolence of King William. For whereas
before the king seemed in friendly countenance to make much of him,
and did unto him great reverence, then he changed all his mildness
into sternness, and excused himself by the bishop of Rome's
authority. So that in the end Stigand was deprived of his dignity,
and kept in Winchester as a prisoner during his life. This Stigand is
noted for a man so covetous and sparing, that when he would take
nothing of his own, and swearing that he had not a penny, yet, by a
key fastened about his neck, was found great treasure of his under
the ground.

At the same time was preferred to the archbishopric of York Thomas, a
Norman, and canon of Baion.

At which time also Lanfranc, abbot of Cadomonency, (a Lombard, and
Italian born.) was sent for, and made archbishop of Canterbury;
between which two archbishops about their consecration first began a
contention, for giving and taking the oath of obedience; but that
contention was at that time appeased by the king; and Thomas was
contented to subscribe to the archbishop of Canterbury's obedience.

After this, it followed within short space that the said Lanfranc,
and Thomas, archbishop of York, who first builded the minster of
York, and gave possessions thereunto, came to Rome with Remigius,
bishop of Dorcester, for their palls, as the manner was; without
which no archbishop nor bishop could be confirmed, although their
election were never so lawful. This pall must be asked nowhere but of
the pope or his assigns, and that within three months; also it must
be asked not faintly, but mightily. Which, as it was a chargeable
thing to other nations, (especially such as were far from Rome,) so
it was no small gain to the Romish see, as they did order it. For
although at the beginning the pall was given without money according
to the decree, or for little, as percase in this time of Lanfranc;
yet in process of years it grew to such excess, that where the
bishopric of Mentz was wont to give to Rome but ten thousand florins,
afterward it arose so, that he which asked his confirmation could not
obtain it without twenty thousand. And from thence it exceeded to
five and twenty thousand, and at length to seven and twenty thousand
florins; which sum Jacobus, archbishop of Mentz, was pressed to pay,
a little before the Council of Basil; insomuch that the said Jacobus,
at his departing, (which was within four years after,) said that his
death did not so much grieve him, as to remember his poor subjects,
which should be constrained to pay so terrible a fine for the pope's
pall. Now by this what riseth to the pope in whole Germany,
containing in it above fifty bishoprics, it may be easily
conjectured. Lanfranc thus coming to Rome, with the other two
bishops, he. for the estimation of his learning, obtained of
Alexander two palls; one of honour, the other of love. He obtained
for the other two bishops also their confirmation. At which time,
they being there present before Alexander, the controversy began
first to be moved (or rather renewed) for the primacy betwixt the two
metropolitans, that is, betwixt the archbishop of Canterbury and the
archbishop of York, whether of them should have pre-eminence above
the other; for Canterbury challenged to himself the preroga tive and
primacy over whole Britain and Ireland: the which contention
continued a long season betwixt these two churches, and was often
renewed in the days of divers kings after this; as in the reign of
Henry the First, betwixt Thurstious of York and Radulphus of
Canterbury. And again, in the seven and twentieth year of the said
king, at his second coronation; for Radulphus would not suffer the
first coronation to stand, because it was done by the bishop of York,
without his assent. Also in the reign of Henry the Second, where Pope
Alexander made a letter decretal betwixt these two metropolitans for
bearing the cross in the year 1159. Also another time, in the reign
of the said king, betwixt Richard of Canterbury and Roger of York.
Again, about the year of our Lord 1170, when Thomas Becket, hearing
the king to be crowned of Roger, bishop of York, complained thereof
grievously to Pope Alexander the Third. At another time, in the year
1176, betwixt Richard and the said Roger, whether of them should sit
on the right hand of Cardinal Hugo in his council at London.
Moreover, in the beginning of the reign of King Richard, in the year
1190, betwixt Baldwinus of Canterbury and Godfridus of York.

Now to proceed in the story hereof. After this question was brought
(as is said) to the pope's presence, he (not disposed to decide the
matter) sent them home into England, there to have their cause
determined. Whereupon they speeding themselves from Rome to England
in the year 1070, and in the sixth year (as is said) of this William,
brought the matter before the king and the clergy at Windsor. Whereon
Lanfranc, first alleging for himself, brought in, from the time of
Austin to the time of Beda, (which was about 140 years,) how that the
bi shop of Canterbury had ever the primacy over the whole land of
Britain and Ireland; how be kept his councils divers times within the
precincts of York; how he did call and cite the bishops of York
thereto; whereof some he did constitute, some he did excommunicate,
and some he did remove; be sides also he alleged divers privileges
granted by princes and prelates to the primacy of that see.

To this Thomas, archbishop of York, replieth again, and, first
beginning with the first original of the Britons' church, declareth
in order of time.

The Britons, first possessors of this kingdom of Britain, which
endured from Brutus and Cadwaladar 2076 years, under a hundred and
two kings, at length received the Christian faith in the year 162. In
the time of Lucius their king, Eleutherius, bishop of Rome, sent
Faganus and Damianus, preachers, unto them; at which time after their
conversion, they assigned and ordained in the realm eight and twenty
bishops, with two archbishops, Theonus, the archbishop of London. and
Theodosius, archbishop of York. Under those bishops and archbishops
the church of Britain was governed after their conversion almost
three hundred years, till at length the Saxons, being then infidels,
with Hengistus their king, subduing the Britons by fraudulent murder,
invaded their land, which was about the year of our Lord 440. After
this, the Britons being driven into Cambria, (which we now call
Wales,) the Saxons overrunning the land, divided themselves into
seven kingdoms. And so, being infidels and pagans, continued till the
time that Gregory, bishop of Rome, sent Austin to preach unto them;
who coming first to Dover, being then the head city of Kent, called
in Latin Dorobernia, and there planting himself, converted first the
king of Kent, called Edelbertus, who had then subdued certain other
kings unto Humber. By reason whereof Austin was made archbishop of
Dover, by the appointment of Gregorius I., who sent him certain palls
with his letter from Rome. as before is expressed. Which letter being
recited, then Thomas, expounding upon the same, beginneth to declare
for himself, how the meaning of Gregory in this letter was, to reduce
the new church of Saxons or Englishmen to the order that was in the
old time among the Britons; that is, to be under two metropolitans,
one of London, the other of York; for so the church was ordered in
the time of the Britons, as is before declared. Notwithstanding. he
giveth to Austin this prerogative during his lifetime, to have
authority and jurisdiction, not only over his twelve bishops, but
upon all other bishops and priests in England. And after his decease,
then these two metropolitans, London and York, to oversee the whole
clergy, as in times past amongst the Britons: whom he joineth
together after the death of Austin to constitute bishops. and to
oversee the church. And that he so meaneth London to be equal in
authority with York, it appeareth by four arguments. First, that he
willeth London to be consecrate by no bishop, but of his own synod.
Secondly, in that he willeth no distinction of honour to be betwixt
Loadon and York, but only according to that as each one of them is
elder in time. Thirdly, for that he matcheth these two together in
common council, and with one agreement to consent together in doing
and disposing such things as they shall consult upon in the zeal of
Christ Jesus; and that in such sort, that one should not dissent nor
discord from the other. What meaneth this, but that they should
govern together, whom he would not to dissent together? Fourthly,
where he writeth, that the bishop of York should not be subject to
the bishop of London: what meaneth this, but that the bishop of
London should be equivalent with the metropolitan of York, or rather
superior unto him?

And thus he expounded the meaning of Gregory to be in the foresaid
letter. To whom Lanfranc again answereth, that he was not the bishop
of London, and that the question pertained not to London. Thomas
replieth, having on his part many fautors, that this privilege was
granted by Gregory to Austin alone, to have all other bishops subject
to him; but after his decease there should be equality of hononr
betwixt London and York, without all distinction of priority, save
the only priority of time should make superiority between them. And
although Austin translated the see from London to Kent; yet Gregory,
if his mind had been to give the same prerogative to the successors
of Austin, (which he gave to him,) would expressly have uttered it in
the words of his epistle, writing thus to Austin: That which I give
to thee, Austin, I give also and grant to all thy successors after
thee. But in that he maketh here no mention of his successors, it
appeareth thereby that it was not his mind so to do.

To this Lanfranc argueth again: If this authority had been given to 
Austin alone, and not to his successors, it had been but a small
gift, proceeding from the apostolic see to his special and familiar
friend; especially seeing also that Austin in all his life did
constitute no bishop of York, neither was there any such bishop to be
subject to him. Again, we have privileges from the apostolic see
which confirm this dignity in the successors of Austin, in the same
see of Dover. Moreover, all Englishmen think it both right and reason
to fetch the direction of well living from that place, where first
they took the sparkle of right believing. Further, whereas you say
that Gregory might have confirmed with plain words the same thing to
tIme successors of Austin which he gave unto him, all that I grant;
yet, notwithstanding, this is nothing prejudicial to the see of
Canterbury. For if you know your logic, that which is true in the
whole, is also true in the part; and what is true in the more, is
also true in the less. Now the Church of Rome is as the whole, to
whom all other churches be as parts thereof; and as homo, mankind, is
genus, the general, in a certain respect, to all his individua, to
all particular persons, yet in every particular person lieth the
property of the general; so, in like manner, the see of Rome in a
certain respect is the general and the whole to other churches, and
yet in every particular church is contained the whole fulness of the
whole Christian faith. As the church of Rome is greater than all
churches, that which is wrought in it ought to work in the less
churches also; so that the authority of every chief head of the
church ought to stand also in them that do succeed, unless there be
any precise exception made by name. Wherefore, like as the Lord said
to all bishops of Rome the same thing which he said to Peter, so
Gregory in like manner said to all the successors of Austin that
which he said to Austin. So thus I conclude: likewise as the bishop
of Canterbury is subject to Rome, because he had his faith from
thence; so York ought to be in subjection to Canterbury, which sent
the first preachers thither. Now, whereas you allege that Gregory
would Austin to be resident at London, that is utterly uncertain. For
how is it to be thought that such a disciple would do contrary to the
mind of such a master? But grant (as you say) that Austin removed to
London, what is that to me, who am not bishop of London?
Notwithstanding, all this controversy ceasing betwixt us, if it shall
please you to come to some peaceable composition with me, (all
contention set apart,) you shall find me not out of the way, so far
as reason and equity shall extend.

With these reasons of Lanfranc Thomas gave over, condescending that
his province should begin at Humber. Whereupon it was then decreed,
that York from that time should be subject to Canterbury in all
matters appertaining to the rites and regiment of the catholic
church; so that wheresoever within England Canterbury should or would
hold his council, the bishop of York should resort thither with his
bishops, and be obedient to his decrees canonical.

Provided, moreover, that when the bishop of Canterbury should
decease, York should repair unto Dover, there to consecrate with
others the bishops that should be elect. And if York should decease,
his successors should resort to Canterbury, or else where the bishop
of Canterbury should appoint, there to receive his consecration,
making his profession there, with an oath of canonical obedience.
Thomas being content withal, Lanfranc the Italian triumpheth with no
small joy, and putteth the matter forthwith in writing, that the
memory thereof might remain to the posterity of his successors. But
yet that decree did not long stand. For shortly after the same scar,
so superficially cured, burst out again. Insomuch that in the reign
of King Henry the First, A.D. 1121, Thurstinus, archbishop of York,
could not be compelled to swear to the archbishop of Canterbury; and
yet notwithstanding by the letters of Calixtus the second was
consecrated without any profession made to the said bishop, with much
more matter of contention, all which to recite it were too long. But
this I thought to commit to history, to the intent men might see the
lamentable decay of true Christianity amongst the Christian bishops,
who, inflamed with glorious ambition, so contended for honour, that
without mere forcement of law no modesty could take place.

Of such-like contentions among prelates of the clergy for
superiority, we read of divers in old chronicles, as in the history
entitled Chronicon Hirsseldense, where is declared a bloody conflict
which twice happened in the church of Goslaria, between Hecelon.
bishop of Hildesheime, and Wederatus, bishop of Fulda, and all for
the superior place, who should sit next to the emperor; the emperor
himself being there present, and looking on them, and yet not able to
stay them.

Thus I have described the troublous contention betweea Lanfranc and
Thomas, metropolitan of York in the days of Alexander; of which
controversy. and of the whole discourse thereof, Lanfranc writeth to
Pope Alexander.

In the story before of King Egelred was declared, about the year of
our Lord 1016, how the bishops of Lindisfarne, otherwise named Holy
Land, in the flood of Tweed, was translated to Durham; so likewise in
the days of this Lanfrancus, archbishop of Canterbury, A.D. 1076,.
divers bishops' sees were altered and removed from townships to
greater cities. As the bishopric of Selese was removed to Chichester;
out of Cornwall to Exeter; from Wells to Bath; from Shireborne to
Salisbury; from Dorcester to Lincoln; from Litchfield to Chester;
which bishopric of Chester Robert being the bishop, reduced from
Chester to Coventry. Likewise after that, in the reign of William
Rufus, A.D. 1095, Herbert, bishop of Thetford, from thence reduced
the see to Norwich.
(Illustration: Dover )

As concerning Dover and Canterbury, whether the see was likewise
translated from the town of Dover to the city of Canterbury in the
time of Theodorus, or whether Canterbury by old time had the name of
Dorobernia, (as the letter of Lanfranc to Pope Alexander above
mentioned doth pretend,) I find it not in histories expressly
defined; save that I read by the words of William, being yet duke of
Normandy, charging then Harold to make a well of water for the king's
use in the castle of Dorobernia, that the said Dorobernia then was
taken for that which we now call Dover; but whether Dorobernia and
the city of Canterbury be both one or divers, the matter is not
great. Notwithstanding this I read in the Epistle of Pope Bonifacius
to King Ethelbert, as also to Justinus, archbishop; in the Epistle of
Pope Honorius to Bishop Honorius; of Pope Vitalianus to Theodorus; of
Pope Sergius to King Ethelred, Alfred, and Adulphus, and to the
bishops of England: likewise of Pope Gregory the Third to the bishops
of England; of Pope Leo to Athelard, archbishop of Canterbury; of
Formosus to the bishops of England; and of Pope John to Dunstan; that
the name of Dorobernia and of Canterbury indifferently are taken for
one matter.

In this time, (and by the procuring of this Lanfranc,) the ninth year
of this king, a council was holden at London, where, among the acts
thereof, these were the principal things concluded.

First, for the order of sitting, that the archbishop of York should
sit on the right hand, and the bishop of London on the left hand; or,
in the absence of York, London should have the right, and Winchester
the left, hand of the archbishop of Canterbury sitting in council.

2. The second, that bishops should translate their sees from villages
into cities. whereupon those sees above named were translated.

3. That monks should have nothing in proper; and if any so had, he
dying unconfessed should not be buried in the churchyard.

4. That no clerk or monk of any other diocess should be admitted to
orders, or retained without letters commendatory or testimonial.

5. That none should speak in the council except bishops and abbots,
without leave of the arch-metropolitans.

6. That none should marry within the seventh degree with any, either
of his own kindred or of his wives departed.

7. That none should either buy or sell any office within the church.

8. That no sorcery or any divination should be used or permitted in
holy church.

9. That no bishop nor abbot, nor any of the clergy, should be at the
judgment of any man's death or dismembering, neither should be any
favourer of the said judicants.

Moreover, in the days of this Lanfranc, divers good bishops of the
realm began to take part with priests against the monks, in
displacing these out of their churches, and to restore the married
priests again; insomuch that Walkelmus, bishop of Winchester, had
placed above forty canons instead of monks for his part; but this
godly enterprise was stopped by stout Lanfranc, the Italian Lombard.
This lusty prelate sat nineteen years; but at his latter end he was
not so favoured of William Rufus, and died for sorrow. Although this
Italian Frank, being archbishop, had little leisure to write, yet
something he thought to do to set out his famous learning, and wrote
a book against Berengarius, entitling it, Opus Scintillarum. The old
church of Canterbury he plucked down, and builded up the new.



33. HILDEBRAND (POPE GREGORY THE SEVENTH)

After the death of Pope Alexander II. above mentioned, next unto him
followed Hildebrand, surnamed Gregory the Seventh. This Hildebrand,
as he was a sorcerer, so was he the first and principal cause of all
this perturbation that is now, and hath been since his time, in the
church; by reason that through his example all this ambition,
stoutness, and pride entered first into the Church of Rome, and hath
ever since continued. For before Hildebrand came to Rome, working
there his feats, setting up and displacing what bishops he listed,
corrupting them with pernicious counsel, and setting them against
emperors; under pretence of chastity destroying matrimony, and under
the title of liberty breaking peace and resisting authority; before
this I say the Church of Rome was in some order, and bishops quietly
governed under Christian emperors, and also were defended by the
same; as Marcellus, Meltiades, and Silvester were subdued, and under
obedience to Constantine, An. 340; Siricius to Theodosius, An. 388;
Gregorius to Mauricius, An. 600; Hilarius to Justinian, An. 528;
Adriauus and Leo to Carolus Magnus, An. 801; Paschalis and Valentius
to Ludovicus Pius, An. 830; Sergius II. to Lotharius, An. 840;
Benedictus the Third, and Johannes the Ninth, unto Ludovicus, son of
Lotharius, An. 856. But against this obedience and subjection
Hildebrand first began to spurn, and by his example taught all other
bishops to do the like.

Insomuch that at length they wrought and brought to pass, that it
should be lawful for a few courtesans and cardinals (contrary to
ancient ordinance and statutes decretal) to choose what pope they
list, without any consent of the emperor at all. And whereas before
it stood in the emperor's s gift to give and to grant bishoprics,
archbishoprics, benefices, and other ecclesiastical preferments
within their own limits, to whom they list; now the popes, through
much wrestling, wars, and contention, have extorted all that into
their own hands, and to their assignees; yea, have plucked in all the
riches and power of the whole world, and, not content with that, have
usurped and prevailed so much above emperors, that as before no pope
might be chosen without the confirmation of the emperor; so now no
emperor may be elected without the confirmation of the pope, taking
upon them more than princes, to place or displace emperors at their
pleasure for every light cause; to put down or set up when and whom
they listed; as Fredericus Primus, for holding the left stirrup of
the pope's saddle, was persecuted almost to excommunication. The
which cause moveth me to strain more diligence here, in setting out
the story, acts, and doings of this Hildebrand, from whom, as the
first patron and founder, sprang all this ambition and contention
about the liberties and dominion of the Romish church; to the inteat
that such as cannot read the Latin histories may understand in
English the original of evils, how and by what occasion they first
began, and how long they have continued.

And, first, how this Hildebrand hitherto had behaved himself, before
he was pope, I have partly declared. For though he was not yet pope
in name, yet he was then pope indeed, and ruled the popes and all
their doings as him listed. Item, what ways and fetches he had
attempted, ever since his first coming to the court of Rome, to
magnify and maintain false liberty against true authority; what
practice he wrought by councils; what factions and conspiracies he
made in stirring up popes against emperors, striving for superiority;
and what wars followed thereof, I have also expressed. Now let us see
further (by the help of Christ) the worthy virtues of this princely
prelate, after he came to be pope, as they remain in histories of
divers and sundry writers described.

Hitherto the bishops of Rome have been elected by voices and
suffrages of all sorts and degrees, as well of the priests and the
clergy as of the nobility, people, and senate, all conventing and
assembling together. And this election so I find to stand in force,
if so be it were ratified and confirmed by the consent of Roman
emperors, who had authority to call and to assemble all these, as
well as bishops, together unto councils as case required. Under the
authority and jurisdiction of these emperors were contained, both in
Germany, France, Italy, and through the whole dominion of Rome, all
patriarchs, bishops, masters of churches and monasteries, by the
decree of councils, according to the old custom of our ancestors, as
is declared in a certain story in the Life of Carolus Magnus. The
holy and ancient fathers (like as Christ our Lord with his disciples
and apostles both taught and did) honoured and esteemed their
emperors as the supreme powers next under God in earth, set up,
ordained, elected, and crowned of God, above all other mortal men,and
so counted them and called them their lords. To them they yielded
tribute, and paid their subsidies; also prayed every day for their
life. Such as rebelled against them, they took as rebels and
resisters against God's ordinance and Christian piety. The name of
the emperor then was of great majesty, and received as given from
God. Then these fathers of the church never intermeddled nor
entangled themselves with politic affairs of the commonwealth; much
less occupied they martial arms and matters of chivalry. Only in
poverty and modesty was all their contention with other Christians,
who should be poorest and most modest among them. And the more
humbleness appeared in any, the higher opinion they conceived of him.
The sharp and two-edged sword they took, given to the church of
Christ, to save, and not to kill; to quicken, and not to destroy; and
called it the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, the life
and light of men, and revoketh from death to life, making of men
gods; of mortal, immortal. Far were they from that, to thrust out any
prince or king (though he were never so far out of the way, yea, an
Arian) from his kingdom, or to curse him, to release his subjects
from their oath and their allegiance, to change and translate
kingdoms, to subvert empires, to pollute themselves with Christian
blood, or to war with their Christian brethren for rule and
principality. This was not their spirit and manner then, but rather
they loved and obeyed their princes. Again, princes loved them also
like fathers and fellow princes with them of the souls of men. Now
this Gregorius the Seventh, otherwise named Hildebrand, trusting upon
the Normans, which then ruffled about Apulia, Calabria, and Campania,
trusting also upon the power of Machtilda, a stout woman there about
Rome; and partly, again, bearing himself bold for the discord among
the Germans first of all others (contrary to the manner of elders)
contemning the authority of the emperor, invaded the cathedral see of
Rome, vaunting himself as having both the ecclesiastical and temporal
sword committed to him by Christ, and that fulness of power was in
his hand to bind and loose what so he listed. Whereupon thus he
presumed to occupy both the regiments, to challenge all the whole
dominion, both of the east and west church, yea, and all power to
himself alone; abiding none to be equal, much less superior, unto
him; derogating from others, and arrogating to himself, their due
right and honour; setting at light Cæsars, kings and emperors, and
who thus reigned by his own God-a-mercy. Bishops and prelates, as his
underlings, he kept in awe, suspending and cursing, and chopping off
their heads, stirring up strife and wars, sowing of discord, making
factions, releasing oaths, defeating fidelity and due allegiance ef
subjects to their princes. Yea, and if he had offended or injured the
emperor himself, yet notwithstanding he ought to be feared, as he
himself glorieth in a certain epistle, as one that could not err, and
had received of Christ our Saviour, and of Peter, authority to bind
and unbind at his will and pleasure. Priests then in those days had
wives openly and lawfully, (no law forbidding to the contrary,) as
appeareth by the deed and writings of their chapter seals and
donations, which were given to temples and monasteries, wherein their
wives also be cited with them for witness, and were called
presbyterissæ. Also for bishops, prelates, parsons of churches,
governors of the clergy, masters of monasteries, and religious
houses; all these were then in those times in the emperor's
ordination, to assign by voice or consent to whom he would. Now these
two things this Pope Gregorius could not abide; for the which two
causes only was all his striving and driving from his first beginning
to abolish the marriage of priests, and to translate the authority
imperial to the clergy. For to this scope only tended all his labour,
practices, and devices, as appeared before in the Council of Lateran
under Pope Nicholas, and also in the Council of Mantua under
Alexander, making their marriage heresy, and the other to be simony.
And that which before he went about by others, now he practiseth by
himself, to condemn ministers that were married for Nicolaitans, and
to receive any spiritual regiment of secular persons for simony;
directing forth his letters upon the same to Henricus the emperor, to
dukes, princes, powers, tetrarchs; namely, to Berchtoldus, to
Rodulphus of Swevia, to Whelpo, Adalberon, and their wives; item, to
bishops, archbishops, priests, and to all the people; in the which
letters he denounceth them to be no priests so many as were married,
forbid ding men to salute them, to talk, to eat, to keep company with
them, to pay them tithes, or to obey them if they would not be
obedient to him. Amongst all others, he directed special letters to
Ottho, bishop of Constance, concerning this matter. But Ottho,
perceiving the ungodly and unreasonable pretence of Hildebrand, would
neither separate them that were married from their wives, nor yet
forbid them to marry which were unmarried, &c.

The copy of the letter of Hildebrand sent to the bishop of Constance
against priests' marriages.

Gregory, bishop, servant of servants of God, to the clergy and laity,
both more and less, within the diocess of Constance, salutation and
benediction. We have directed to our brother Ottho, your bishop, our
letters exhortatory; wherein we enjoined him, according to the
necessity of our duty, by the authority apostolical, that he should
utterly abolish out of his church the heresy of simony, and also
should cause with all diligence to be preached the chastity of
priests. But he, neither moved with reverence of St. Peter's precept,
nor yet with the regard of his duty, neglected to do these things,
whereunto we so fatherly have exhorted him; incurring thereby a
double offence, not only of disobedience, but also of rebellion, in
that he hath gone and done clean contrary to our commandment; (yea,
rather the commandment of blessed St. Peter); so that he hath
permitted his clergy, not only such as had wives, not to put them
away, but also such as had none, to take unto them. Whereupon we
being truly informed thereof, and grieved there with, have directed
to him another letter, declaring the motion of our displeasure and
indignation. In which letters also we have cited him up to our
council at Rome, there to appear and give account of his
disobedience, in the audience of the whole synod. And now therefore
we thought it best to signify this to you, our dear children, whereby
in this behalf we might the better provide for your health and
salvation. For if your bishop shall continue so obstinately to repngn
and resist against our commandment, he is not meet to sit over you,
&c. Wherefore these shall be to command you, and all them that be
obedient to God, and to blessed St. Peter, by our apostolical
authority, that if this your bishop shall persist in his obstinacy,
you that be his subjects hereafter give to him no service nor
obedience. For the which thing doing we here discharge you before God
and your souls. For if your bishop shall seem contrary to the
decreements and injunctions apostolical, we, through the apostolical
authority of St. Peter, discharge and absolve you from the band of
your allegiance to him. So that if you be sworn to him, so long as he
is a rebel against God and the apostolic seat, we loose you from the
peril of your oath, that you shall not need to fear therein any
danger," &c.

Ottho, bishop of Constance, thus being cited, whether he did appear
personally himself, I do not read. Thus I read and find, that in the
said council holden at Rome, Hildebrand, with other bishops of Rome,
did then enact, among many others, these three things most special.
First, that no priest hereafter should marry. Secondly, that all such
as were married should be divorced. Thirdly, that none hereafter
should be admitted to the order of priesthood, but should swear
perpetual chastity, &c. This council of Rome being ended, forthwith
the act of Hildebrand concerning the single life of priests was
proclaimed and published in all places, and strait commandment given
to bishops to execute the same.

The copy of his bull sent into Italy and Germany.

Gregory the pope, otherwise Hildebrand, the servant of the servants
of God, sendeth the apostles' blessing to all them within the
kingdoms of Italy and Germany that show their true obedience to St.
Peter. If there be any priests, deacons, and subdeacons that still
will remain in the sin of fornication, we forbid them the church's
entrance, by the omnipotent power of God, and by the authority of St.
Peter, till time they amend and repent. But if they persevere in
their sin, we charge that none of you presume to hear their service;
for their blessing is turned into cursing, and their prayer into sin,
as the Lord doth testify to us by his prophets, I will turn your
blessing, &c."

The bishops of France, being called upon daily with the pope's
letters, were compelled to obey the decree of the council; but the
residue of the clergy manfully and stoutly withstanding the pope's
decree and enforcement of their bishops, would not agree, but repined
thereat, and said that the council did manifestly repugn against the
word of God, and that the pope did take from priests that which both
God and nature had given them; and therefore that person to be a
heretic, and author of a wicked doctrine, which ruled and governed,
not by the Spirit of God, but by Satan. The decree and act set forth
to tend directly against the word of God, and the saying of Christ,
All men have not the gift and capacity of this word. Item, to be
against the sound doctrine of St. Paul, writing these words: As
concerning virginity, I have no commandment of the Lord, &c. Again,
He that can not otherwise live continently, let him marry. Item, that
it was against the canons both of the apostles and of the Nicene
Council. Moreover, that it was against the course of nature which he
required, that men, being sequestered from their natural wives and
women, should be coacted to live as angels; that is, to perform that
which nature doth not give. And therefore the bishop therein did open
a pernicious window to uncleanness and to fornication. In sum, giving
up their answer, thus they concluded, that they had rather give np
their benefices, than to forsake their natural and lawful wives
against the word of Christ. And, finally, if married priests could
not please them, they should call down angels from heaven to serve
the churches. But Hildebrand, nothing moved, neither with honest
reason, nor with the authority of Holy Scripture, nor with the
determination of the Nicene Council, nor any thing else, followeth
this matter; calleth upon the bishops still, with his letters and
legates doth solicit their minds, accuseth them of negligence and
dastardness, threateneth them with excommunication, unless they cause
their priests to obey his decree enjoined them. Whereupon a great
number of bishops, for fear of the pope's tyranny, laboured the
matter with their priests by all means possible to bereave them of
their accustomed matrimony.

Amongst other, the archbishop of Mentz, perceiving this act of taking
away priests' marriage might breed him no little trouble, talketh
with his clergy gently, admonisheth them of the pope's mind and
decree, and giveth them half a year's respite to deliberate upon the
case; exhorting them diligently to show themselves obedient to the
pope and to him, and to grant with good-will that which at length
(will they nill they) they must needs be forced unto, and therefore
of their own accord to stand content therewith, lest the pope should
be compelled to attempt ways of sharper severity. The time of
deliberation expired, the archbishop assembleth his clergy at
Erpsford, the month of October, and there willeth them, according to
the pontifical decree, either to abjure for ever all matrimony, or
else to renounce their benefices and ecclesiastical livings. The
clergy again defend themselves against the pope's decree with
Scriptures, with reason, with the acts of general councils, with
examples of ancestors, by divers strong arguments, declaring the
pope's decree not to be constant, nor ought to take effect. But the
archbishop said he was compelled so of the pope, and could not
otherwise do, but to execute that which was enjoined him.

The clergy, seeing that no reason, nor prayer, nor disputation would
serve, laid their heads together, consulting among themselves what
was best to be done. Some gave counsel not to return again to the
synod, some thought it good to return and to thrust out the
archbishop from his see, and to give him due punishment of death for
his deserving, that by the example of him others may be warned here
after never to attempt that thing any more, to the prejudice of the
church, and the rightful liberty of ministers. After that this was
signified to the archbishop by certain spies that were amongst them,
what the clergy intended to do, the archbishop, to prevent and salve
the matter, sendeth to the priests, as they were coming out, certain
messengers, bidding them be of hope, and to return again to the
metropolitan, and they should have that should content their minds.
So, being persuaded, they come again to the council. The bishop
promiseth he would do his endeavour what he could to revoke and turn
the mind of the bishop of Rome from that sentence, willing them in
the mean time to continue as they had done in their cure and
ministry. The next year following, Hildebrand, the soldier of Satan,
sendeth his legate (a certain bishop called Curiensis) unto the
archbishop of Mentz, and assembled there a council. In the which the
archbishop again proposeth the matter, commanding all the clergy,
under pain of the pope's curse, there perpetually either to renounce
their wives or their livings. The clergy defended their cause again
with great constancy. But when no defence could take place, but all
went by tyranny and mere extortion, it burst in the end to an uproar
and tumult, where the legate and the archbishop, being in great
danger, hardly escaped with their lives, and so the council brake up.
By this schism and tumult it followed that the churches after that,
in choosing their priests, would not send them to the bishops (the
enemies and suppressors of matrimony) to be confirmed and inducted,
but did elect them within themselves, and so put them in their office
without all leave or knowledge of the bishops, who then agreed and
were determined to admit no priests but such as should take an oath
of perpetual singleness, never to marry after. And thus first came up
the oath and profession of single priesthood. Notwithstanding, if
other nations had followed the like constancy and concord of those
German ministers, the devilish drift and decree of this Hildebrand
(or rather hellbrand) had been frustrate and avoided. But this
greediness of livings in weak priests made them to yield up their
godly liberty to wicked tyranny. Yet this remaineth in these Germans
to be noted, what concord can do in repressing the inordinate
requests of evil bishops, if they constantly stand to the truth, and
hold together. And thus much for banishing of matrimony. Now let us
proceed to the contests between wicked Hildebrand and the godly
emperor. But before, by the way of digres sion, it shall not be much
from the purpose to touch a little of the properties of this pope, as 
we find them described in certain epistles of Benno, a cardinal,
writing to other cardinals of Rome; which Benno lived in the same
time of Hildebrand, and detecteth the prodigious acts and doings of
this monstrous pope.

First, declaring that he was a sorcerer most notable, and a
necromancer, an old companion of Sylvester, of Laurentius and
Theophylactus, called otherwise Benedictus Nonus. Amongst others,
Benno Cardinalis writeth this history of him: "How upon a certain
time this Gregorius, coming from Albanus to Rome, had forgot behind
him his familiar book of necromancy, which he was wont commonly to
carry always with him. Whereupon remembering himself, entering the
port of Lateran, he calleth two of his most trusty familiars to fetch
the book, charging them at no hand to look within it. But they being
so restrained, were the more desirous to open it, and to peruse it,
and so did. After they had read a little the secrets of the Satanical
book, suddenly there came about them the messengers of Satan, the
multitude and terror of whom made them almost out of their wits. At
length, they coming to themselves, the spirits were instant upon them
to know wherefore they were called up, wherefore they were vexed;
quickly (said they) tell us what ye would us to do, or else we will
fall upon you, if ye retain us longer. Then spake one of the young
men to them, bidding them go and pluck down yonder walls, pointing
unto certain high walls there nigh to Rome, which they did in a 
moment. The young men, crossing them for fear of the spirits, (scarce
recovering themselves,) at length came to their master." And it
followeth moreover in the epistle of the said Benno to the cardinals:

"We have made mention to you before of divers colleges of the Church
of Rome which refused to communicate with him; as Leo, then
archpriest of the cardinals, Benno, Ugobaldus, Johannes the cardinal,
Peter, chancellor and cardinal, being all instituted before this
Hildebrand. These three also being consecrated by him, that is,
Natro, Innocentius, and Leo, forsook him, cursing the detestable
errors which he held. In like case Theodinus, whom he constituted
archdeacon, and other cardinals more, Johannes surnamed Primicerius,
Petros Oblationarius, with all that appertained to them, saving one
only man. And now, when this Hildebrand saw that the bishops also
would forsake him, he called unto him the laymen, and made them privy
of his council, thinking thereby to separate the bishops, that they
should have no conference with the cardinals. After that he called
together those bishops; and being guarded with bands of laymen, he
enforced the bishops, partly for fear, and partly for his menacing
words, to swear unto him, that they should never disagree unto that
which he would have done, that they should never defend the king's
quarrel, and that they should never favour or obey the pope that
should in his stead be in stituted. Which thing being done, he sent
them, by means of the prince of Salernites, into Campania; and thus
did he separate them from the company of the cardinals, and from the
city of Rome. And not only the bishops, but also the priests of the
city and clerks of inferior orders, as also the laymen, he bound by
their oaths, that at no time nor for any cause they should condescend
unto the king.

"As soon as Pope Alexanderwas dead, which died somewhat before night,
the same day, contrary to the canons, he was chosen pope of the
laymen. But the cardinals subscribed not to his election. For the
canons prescribed (under pain of cursing) that none should be chosen
pope before the third day after the burial of his predecessor. But he
(by sinister means thus climbing to the see) removed the car dinals
of the said see from being of the council. But with what persons he
consulted night and day Rome well heard and saw. And he now putting
the cardinals from his council, his life, faith, and doctrine no man
could accuse or bear witness of; whereas in the canons is commanded,
that in every place wheresoever the pope is should be with him three
cardinals being priests, and two deacons, be cause of his
ecclesiastical testimony and style of verity; of which canonical
decree you heard, gentle reader, before. He violently wrested the
sacred Scriptures to cover his falsehood, which kind of idolatry, how
great it is, manifestly through all the Scripture appeareth. Contrary
to the minds and counsel of the cardinals, and besides the
determinate order of pronouncing judgment by the canons, he rashly
did excommunicate the emperor, being in no synod solemnly accused
before. The sentence of which excommunication, after rehearsal of
these presents, shall also be manifested (Christ willing); to the
which excommunication," saith Benno, "none of the cardinals wonld
subscribe. As soon as he arose out of his seat papal to excommunicate
the emperor, the same seat (being made but a little before with big
timber) suddenly by the appointment of God was rent and shivered in
pieces; so that all men might plainly understand what and how great
and terrible schisms that lubber had sown against the church of
Christ, against the seat of St. Peter, and how cruelly he had
dispersed the chair of Christ, in defiling the laws of the church,
ruling by might and austerity in that his so perilous and
presumptuous excommunication.

"In the description of the same excommunication he inserteth those
things wherein he himself erred, when he absolved the emperor being
unjustly excommunicate, and the bishops also communicating with him;
and to the uttermost thus cutting and mangling the unity of the
church, and those that communicated with them, did as much as in him
lay to make two churches.

"Also the same bold merchant commanded that the cardinals should
fast, to the intent that God would reveal whose opinion was better
(whether of the church of Rome or of Berengarius) touching the
controversy of the Lord's body in the sacrament. And hereby he proved
himself to be a manifest infidel, for that in the Nicene Council it
is written, He that doubteth is an infidel.

"Further, he sought for a sign to establish his faith concerning the
article of the Lord's body; as did Gregory to confirm the woman's
faith, when the consecrated bread was transubstantiated into the form
of a fleshly finger. He also sent two cardinals (Attones and Cunones)
unto Anastase, that with the archpriest of the same church they
should begin a fast of three days' space, and that every of them
(every day during those three days) should say over the Psalter, and
sing masses, that Christ would show unto them some such-like sign of
his body as he did to the foresaid Gregory; which thing they could
not see.

"The emperor was wont oftentimes to go to St. Mary's church in the
Mount Aventine to pray. Hildebrand, when he had by his espials
searched out and knew all the doings of the emperor, caused the place
where the emperor was accustomed (either standing or prostrate on his
face) to pray to be marked, and for money be hired a naughty pack'
(like himself) to gather and lay together a heap of great stones
directly over the place in the vault of the church where the emperor
would stand, that in throwing the same down upon his head he should
slay the emperor. About which purpose as the hireling hasted, and was
busy, removing to the place a stone of great hugeness and weight, it
broke the plank whereon it lay; and the hireling standing thereupon,
both together fell down from the roof to the pavement of the church,
and with the same was dashed all in pieces. And after the Romans had
understanding of the handling of this matter, they fastened a rope to
one of the feet of this hireling, and caused him to be drawn through
the streets of the city three days together in example to others. The
emperor notwithstanding, according to his wonted clemency, caused him
to be buried.

"Johannes, bishop of Portua, (being one of the secret council of
Hildebrand,) came up into the pulpit of St. Peter, and amongst other
things, in the hearing both of the clergy and people, said,
Hildebrand and we have committed such a deed and so horrible, for the
which we are all worthy to be burned alive, (meaning of the sacrament
of the body of Christ,) which sacrament Hildebrand, when he thereof
inquired a divine answer against the emperor, and it would not speak,
threw into the fire and burned it, contrary to the persuasion of the
cardinals that were there present, and would have resisted the same.

"In the second holy-day in the Easter week, when the clergy and the
people were assembled at St. Peter's church to hear mass, after the
Gospel, he went up into the pulpit, as he was in his pontifical
attire, and in the presence of divers bishops and cardinals (a great
company both of the senate and the people of Rome being gathered
together) openly preached (among many other words of divination) that
the king, whose name was Henry, should die (without all peradventure)
before the feast of St. Peter next ensuing; or else at leastwise that
he should be so dejected from his kingdom, that he should not he able
any more to gather together above the number of six knights. This he
preached to the bishops and cardinals, and all that were present,
crying out of the pulpit in these words: Never accept me for pope any
more, but pluck me from the altar, if this prophecy be not fulfilled
by the day appointed. About the same time he went about by help of
privy murderers to kill the emperor, but God preserved him. And many
there were even at that time which thought Pope Hildebrand to be
guilty, and to be the deviser of the treason, because that then he
(before the deed put in execution) presumed of the death of the king,
being by him falsely prophesied of before; which words of his wounded
many men's hearts. And it came to pass that Hildebrand by his words
was openly condemned in the congregation, which (as is said) gave
judgment of himself to be no pope, neither that he would be counted
for pope any longer, but thought to be both a belier and a traitor,
unless that before the feast of St. Peter next coming the emperor
should die, or else should be deprived of all kingly honour, insomuch
as he should not be able to make above six knights on his part. And
thus by the appointment of God it came to pass, that by his own mouth
he was condemned for a heretic.

"Thus saith the Lord: The prophet who of arrogancy will prophesy in
my name those things I have not commanded him, or else will prophesy
in the name of other gods, let him be slain. And if, thou shalt say
with thyself, How shall I know what thing it is that the Lord hath
not commanded to be spoken? this token shalt thou have to know it by:
whatsoever things the prophet in the name of God shall prophesy, and
the same come not to pass, that mayest thou be sure the Lord hath not
spoken, but the prophet hath imagined through the haughtiness of his
own mind, and therefore thou shalt not be afraid of him.

"When the time was expired that Hildebrand in his divination had set,
and that neither the king was dead, neither the power of the empire
impaired, and fearing lest by the words of his own mouth he should be
reprehended and condemned, subtlely be turned his tale, saying, and
persuading the ignorant people, that he meant not of the body of the
king, but of his soul; as though the soul of the king had lost all,
saving six of his knights or soldiers, or else had been dead during
that space: and thus by these sleights he beguiled the ignorant
people. About such prophets St. Gregory Ezekiel saith, Between true
prophets and false this difference there is, that true prophets, if
they speak any thing upon their own mind, they be soon rebuked; but
the false prophets, both they tell lies, and not having the spirit of
truth, they persevere in their falsity.

"Over and beside, the said Hildebrand judged to death three men
before they were convict, or else confessed their crime, without the
sentence of any secular judge, and caused them to be hanged upon a
pair of gallows, over against the church of St. Peter, in a place
called Palatiolum, without any delay or advisement, contrary to the
laws, which command that every public offender should have thirty
days' space before he be put to execution. Which thing even amongst
the pagans is in use and observed, as teacheth the authority of St.
Ambrose, and the martyrdom of holy Marcellianus and Marcus.

"He cast Centius, the son of Stephen the alderman, into prison, being
before his trusty friend; and in a vessel, being thick set with sharp
nails, he tormented him to the point of death, who, after he was
escaped, apprehended the said Hildebrand. Of this apprehension,
before he was set at liberty, he openly forgave all the conspirators.
Which thing afterwards, contrary to his fidelity, he brake and
revenged, and caused Centius, to whom he had for given all offences,
to be taken, and hanged him and nine of his men upon the gallows
before St. Peter's porch.

"There was at the apprehension of Pope Hildebrand, a certain widow's
sons, to whom (and others more for their penance) he enjoined a
year's banishment. Which time being run out, the widow, in token of
more ample satisfaction, thinking there by to have appeased the mind
of Hildebrand, put a halter about her son's neck, and drawing her son
by the rope unto the foot of Hildebrand, said, My lord pope, at your
hands will I receive again my son, which one whole year hath endured
banishment and other penance by your holiness enjoined. Then the said
Hildebrand for that instant, because of those which were with him in
company, (dissembling his wrath,) delivered her her son very
churlishly, saying, Get thee hence, woman, I bid thee, and let me be
in rest. After this he sent his officers, and appre hended the
widow's son, and gave commandment to the justices to put him to
death; who all together making answer, said that they could no more
condemn or meddle with him, for that he had for his crime committed
appealed once to the pope, and endured the banishment, and done the
penance by him enjoined. Hereupon this glorious Hildebrand,
displeased with the judges, caused the foot of the widow's son to be
cut off, making neither repentance, nor the laws and ordinances, to
be of any estimation with him; and thus his foot being cut off, he
died within three days after with the pain thereof. Many other wicked
deeds did this Hildebrand, upon whom the blood of the church crieth
vengeance, shed by the sword. (that is,) the miserable treachery of
his tongue; for which things (and that justly) the church refused to
communicate with him."

Another epistle of Benno to the cardinals.

"To the reverend fathers of the Church of Rome, and to his beloved in
Christ, and to his brethren that shall for ever be beloved, Benno,
the cardinal of the Church of Rome, wisheth faithful service, health,
and communion with the servants of the catholic church. Of the which
communion, discipline, and power he vainly braggeth, that by the
presumption of his authority shall unjustly bind or loose any manner
of person. And he doth unjustly bind, whatsoever be be, that curseth
any man (being willing to make satisfaction, and bewailing his
boldness, being also unconvict, and not confessing the crime); but
rather, cursing that party in vain, he curseth and condemneth
himself, turning his weapon upon his own person to his destruction. O
strange and new-found treachery proceeding from the sanctuary! nay,
rather from him which as high priest seemeth to rule the church, and
to be a judge over the judges."


Hildebrand was earnestly in hand with the emperor, that he should
deprive those bishops which came in by simony. The emperor (thinking,
as a zealous prince, that this commission had proceeded from the
throne of God) without delay obeyed the same, and forthwith, without
any consideration or judicial order, deprived certain bishops, and
thought that by this his obedience to Hildebrand he offered an
acceptable sacrifice to God, not knowing the crafty handling of him.
But Hildebrand then again placed those whom the emperor for simony at
his commandment had before deposed, and those whom by that means he
made to bear a hateful heart to the emperor he reconciled again unto
himself in great familiarity; and by many and great oaths taken Of
them, for their fidelity towards him, he promoted them above all the
rest. And thus, by these pranks, the imperial seat of the king being
shortly after impaired, and destitute almost of friends, he craftily
purchasing the friendship and favour of the greatest princes, the
better to bring his matters to pass, suddenly again, without any
lawful accusation, without any canonical vocation, without all
judicial order, he excommunicated the emperor, (so obedient always
unto him,) and set the princes of the empire all against him. And
notwithstanding (as the apostle saith) that no man ought to
circumvent his brother in his business, as much as in him lay he
rather mortified and killed him than brotherly corrected him. Thus
the emperor, being many ways circumvented, as excommunicated besides
the canonical order, and by the consent and counsel of Hildebrand
spoiled of the greatest part of his imperial honour, and overcharged
with great wars and slaughters of his own subjects, in vain desired
and sued to have the canon read and heard, causing him by force and
violence at Canusium, in the presence of Hildebrand, to accuse
himself by his own confession.

Say you now, (I pray you,) all such as love justice, and love not to
lean either upon the left hand, or else the right hand, in the favour
of any person; say your minds, whether that such a confession, being
forced upon never so poor a man, (much more upon an emperor,) ought
at such a time to be prejudicial or not? or whether he, which
extorted the same confession, is guilty of the canon? or else he
which, being so perversely judged, suffered the injury of a most
perverse judge? Which also most patiently and publicly suffered this
violence with lamentable affliction upon his bare feet, clothed in
thin garments, in the sharp winter, which never was used, and was
three days together at Canusium made a spectacle both of angels and
men, and a ludicrious mocking-stock to that proud Hildebrand. Never
trust me, if that fourteen cardinals, the archdeacon himself, and he
that is called Primicerius, being all wise and religious men, besides
many other of the clerks of Lateran, (to the judgment and privilege
of whose holy seat the whole worid is obedient,) weighing and
considering his intolerable apostacy, departed not from
participating, and refused communicating with him.

This glorious Hildebrand, and his affinity, by their new authority
breaking the decrees of the Chalcedon council, not only in words, but
also in public writings, have agreed that it is tolerable both to
baptize and communicate being out of the church of God; and how blind
these men were, and also what heretics they be, their own writings do
declare. What a mischief is this? (saith Bcnno,) they presume to
judge of the church which swarm themselves in all errors, who also
esteem the verity but as a lie; and lest their poisoned falsehood
both in words and writings should appear, they have, like subtle
poisoners, (the sooner to deceive,) mixed honey therewithal. A lie,
saith St. Augustine, is every thing pronounced with the intent of
deceiving of others.

It were too long and tedious here to recite all the detestable doings
and diabolical practices of conjurings, charms, and filthy sorceries,
exercised between him, and Laurentius, and Theophylact, otherwise
named Pope Benedict the Ninth, whereof a long narration followeth in
the foresaid epistle of Benno to the cardinals to be seen, to whom
the reader may repair, whoso hath either leisure to read or mind to
understand more of the abominable parts and devilish acts of this
Hildebrand.

About what time Hildebrand was made pope, Henricus the Fourth,
emperor, was encumbered and much vexed with civil dissension in
Germany, by reason of certain grievances of the Saxons against him
and his father Henricus the Third. Where upon the matter growing to
sedition, sides were taken, and great wars ensued betwixt Otho, duke
of Saxony, and Henricus the emperor. This busy time seemed to
Hildebrand very opportune to work his feats, whose study and drift
was ever from the beginning to advance the dominion of the Romish
seat above all other bishops, and also to press down the authority of
the temporal rulers under the spiritual men of the church. And
although he went about the same long before, by subtle trains and
acts set forth concerning simony; yet now he thought more effectually
to accomplish his purposed intent, after that he was exalted thither
where he would be. And therefore now bearing himself the bolder, by
the authority of St. Peteis throne, first he began to pursue the act
set out by his predecessor, as touching simony, cursing and
excommunicating, whoso ever they were, that received any spiritual
living or promotion at laymen's hands, as also all such as were the
givers thereof. For this he called then simony, that under that
colour be might defeat the temporal powers of their right, and so
bring the whole clergy at length to the lure of Rome. And forsomuch
as the emperor was the head, thinking first to begin with him, he
sendeth for him by letters and legates to appear in the Council of
Lateran at Rome. But the emperor, busied in his wars against the
Saxons, had no leisure to attend to councils. Notwithstanding
Gregorius the pope proceedeth in his council, rendering there the
cause and reason before the bishops why he had excommunicated divers
of the clergy, as Herman, bishop of Bamberge, counsellor to the
emperor, and other priests more, for simony. And there moreover in
the said council he threateneth to excommunicate likewise the emperor
himself, and to depose him from his regal kingdom, unless he would
renounce the heresy of simony, and do penance. The council being
ended, Guibertus, archbishop of Ravenna, persuaded with one Centius
(a Roman, the captain's son, whom the pope had excommunicated) to
take the emperor's part against the pope; who watching his time in
the temple of St. Mary, upon Christmas day in the morning, taketh the
pope, and putteth him fast in a strong tower. The next day the people
of Rome, hearing this, harness themselves with all expedition to help
the bishop, whom when they loosed out of prison, they besieged the
house of Centius, and plucked it down to the ground; his family,
having their noses cut off, were cast out of the city; Centius
himself, escaping, fled to the emperor. Guibert the archbishop,
pretending good will to the pope, departed from Rome, who likewise
had wrought with Hugo Candidus, cardinal, and with Theobaldus,
archbishop of Millain, also with divers other bishops about Italy, to
forsake the pope, and take the emperor's part. Gregory the pope,
called Hildebrand, bearing the conspiracy, layeth the sentence of
excommunication upon them all, and depriveth them of their dignity.
The emperor being moved (not unworthily) with the arrogant
presumption of the proud prelate, called together a council at
Wormes. In which council all the bishops, not only of Saxony, but of
all the whole empire of Germans, agree and conclude upon the
deposition of Hildebrand, and that no obedience hereafter should be
given to him. This being determined in the council, Roulandus, a
priest of Parmen, was sent to Rome with the sentence, who in the name
of the council should command Gregory to yield up his seat, and also
charge the cardinals to resort to the emperor for a new election of
another pope. The tenor of the sentence sent by Roulandus was this.

The sentence of the Council of Wormes against Hildebrand.

"Forsomuch as thy first ingress and coming in hath been so spotted
with so many perjuries, and also the church of God brought into no
little danger through thine abuse and newfangleness; moreover,
because thou hast defamed thine own life and conversation with so
much and great dishonesty, that we see no little peril or slander to
rise thereof; therefore the obedience, which yet we never promised
thee, here after we utterly renounce, and never intend to give thee.
And as thou hast never taken us yet for bishops, (as thou hast openly
reported of us,) so neither will we hereafter take thee to be
apostolic. Vale."


Gregory the pope, tickled with this sentence, first condemneth it in
his Council of Lateran with excommunication. Secondly, depriveth
Sigifridus, archbishop of Mentz, of his dignities and ecclesiastical
livings, with all other bishops, abbots, and priests, as many as took
the emperor's part. Thirdly, accuseth Henricus the emperor himself,
depriveth him of his kingdom and regal possession, and releaseth all
his subjects of their oath of allegiance given unto him, after this
form and manner.

The tenor of the sentence excommunicatory against Henrieus the
emperor by Hildebrand.

"O blessed St. Peter, prince of the apostles, bow down thine ears, I
beseech thee, and hear me thy servant, whom thou hast brought up even
from mine infancy, and hast delivered me until this day from the
hands of the wicked, which hate and persecute me, because of my faith
in thee. Thou art my witness, and also the blessed mother of Jesus
Christ, and thy brother St. Paul, fellow partner of thy martyrdom,
how that I entered this function not willingly, but enforced against
my will; not that I take it so as a robbery lawfully to ascend into
this seat; but because that I had rather pass over my life like a
pilgrim or private person, than for any fame or glory to climb up to
it. I do acknowledge (and that worthily) all this to come of thy
grace, and not of my merits, that this charge over Christian people,
and this power of binding and loosing, is committed to me. Wherefore,
trusting upon this assurance for the dignity and tuition of holy
church in the name of God omnipotent, the Father, the Son, and the
Holy Ghost, I do here depose Henry, the son of Henry once the
emperor, from his imperial seat and princely government, who hath so
boldly and presumptuously laid hands upon thy church. And
furthermore, all such as heretofore have sworn to be his subjects, I
release them of their oath, whereby all subjects are bound to the
allegiance of their princes. For it is meet and convenient that he
should be void of dignity which seeketh to diminish the majesty of
thy church. Moreover, for that he hath contemned my monitions,
tending to his health and wealth of his people, and hath separated
himself from the fellowship of the church, (which he, through his
seditions, studieth to destroy,) therefore I bind him by virtue of
excommunication, trusting and knowing most certainly that thou art
Peter, in the rock of whom (as in the true foundation) Christ our
King hath built his church."


The emperor, thus assaulted with the pope's censure, sendeth abroad
his letters through all nations to purge himself, declaring how
wrongfully and against all right he was condemned. The princes of
Almany, partly fearing the crack of the pope's thunderclap, partly
again rejoicing that occasion was renewed to rebel against the
emperor, assembled a commencement, where they did consult and so
conclude to elect another emperor, and so fall from Henry, unless the
pope would come to Germany, and he would there be content to submit
himself and obtain his pardon.

Wherein is to be considered the lamentable affections of the Germans
in those days, so to forsake such a valiant emperor, and so much to
repute a vile bishop. But this was the rudeness of the world then,
for lack of better knowledge. The emperor, seeing the chief princes
ready to forsake him, promiseth them with an oath, that if the pope
would repair to Germany, he would ask forgiveness.

Upon this the bishop of Triers was sent up in commission to Rome, to
entreat the pope to come into Germany. The bishop (at the instance of
the legate and of the princes) was content. He entered into Germany,
thinking to come to Augusta. After he was come to Vercellos, the
bishop of that city (being the chancellor of Italy, and desirous to
disturb peace for the old grudge he had to the emperor) falsely
persuaded with the pope, that he was certain the emperor was coming
with a mighty great army against him, counselling him therefore to
provide betimes for his own safeguard in some stronger place. Whereby
the pope's mind being altered, he retired back to Canusium or
Canossus, a city being subject to Matilda, a countess of Italy, where
he should not need to fear the emperor.

Henricus understanding the false fear of the pope, and of his retire
to Canusium, incontinent (coming out of Spires with his wife and his
young sun, in the deep and sharp of winter) resorteth to Canossus.
All his peers and nobles had left him for fear of the pope's curse,
neither did any accompany him. Wherefore the emperor, being not a
little troubled, (laying apart his regal ornaments,) came barefooted
with his wife and child to the gate of Canossus, where he from
morning to night (all the day fasting) most humbly desireth
absolution, craving to be let in to the speech of the bishop. But no
ingress might be given him once within the gates. Thus he continuing
three days together in his petition and suit, at length answer came,
that the pope's majesty had yet no leisure to talk with him. The
emperor, nothing moved therewith, that he was not let into the city,
patient and with a humble mind abideth without the walls, with no
little grievance and painful labour; for it was a sharp winter, and
all frozen with cold. Notwithstanding, yet through his importunate
suit at length it was granted, through the entreating of Matilda, the
pope's paramour, and of Arelaus, earl of Sebaudia, and the abbot of
Cluniake, that he should be admitted to the pope's speech. On the
fourth day being let in, for a token of his true repentance, he
yielded to the pope's hands his crown, with all other ornaments
imperial, and confessed himself unworthy of the empire, if ever be do
against the pope hereafter, as he hath done before, desiring for that
time to he absolved and forgiven. The pope answereth, be will neither
forgive him, nor release the bond of his excommunication, but upon
conditions. First, to promise that he shall be content to stand to
his arbitrament in the council, and to take such penance as he shall
enjoin him; also that he shall be prepared and ready to appear, in
what place or time the pope shall appoint him. Moreover, that he,
being content to take the pope judge of his cause, shall answer in
the said council to all objections and accusations laid against him,
and that he shall never seek any revengement herein. Item, that he
(though he be quit and cleared therein) shall stand to the pope's
mind and pleasure, whether to have his kingdom restored or to lose
it. Finally, that before the trial of his cause, he shall neither use 
his kingly ornaments, sceptres, or crown, nor usurp the authority to
govern, nor to exact any oath of allegiance upon his subjects, &c.
These things being promised to the bishop by an oath, and put in
writing, the emperor is only released of excommunication. The tenor
of the writing is this:

The form and tenor of the oath which Henricus made to the pope.

"I Henricus, king, after peace and agreement made to the mind and
sentence of our Lord Gregorius the Seventh, promise to keep all
covenants and bonds betwixt us, and to provide that the pope go
safely wheresoever he will, without any danger either to him or to
his retinue; especially in all such places as be subject to our
empire. Nor that I shall at any time stay or hinder him, but that he
may do that belongeth to his function, where and whensoever his
pleasure shall be. And these things I bind myself with an oath to
keep."


Thus the matter being decided betwixt them, after the pope's own
prescribement, the emperor taketh his journey to Papia. The pope with
his cardinals did vaunt and triumph with no little pride that they
had so quailed the emperor, and brought him on his knees to ask them
forgiveness. Yet notwithstanding, mistrusting themselves, and
misdoubting time, what might befall them hereafter if fortune should
turn, and God give the emperor to enjoy a more quiet kingdom;
therefore, to prevent such dangers betime, they study and consult
privily with themselves how to displace Henry clean from his kingdom,
and how that device might safely be conveyed. They conclude and
determine to derive the empire unto Roduiphus, a man of great
nobility amongst the chiefest states of Germany; and also to incite
and stir up all other princes and subjects (being yet free and
discharged from their oaths) against Henry, and so by force of arms
to expel the emperor out of his kingdom. To bring this purpose the
better to pass, legates were sent down from the pope, Sigehardiis,
patriarch of Aquilia, and Altimanus, bishop of Padway, which should
persuade through all France, that Henry the emperor was rightfully
excommunicated, and that they should give to the bishop of Rome their
consents in choosing Rodulphus to be emperor. This being done, there
was sent to the said Rodulph, duke of Suevia, a crown from the pope
with this verse:

The Rock gave the crown to Peter,
Peter giveth it to Rodulph.

Here, by the way of digression, (to make a little gloss upon this
barbarous verse,) two notable lies are to be noted. One where he
lieth upon Christ, the other where he lieth upon St. Peter. First,
that Christ gave any temporal diadem to Peter, it is a most manifest
lie, and against the Scriptures, whenas he would not take it being
given to himself, and saith his kingdom is not of this world. Again,
where be saith that Peter giveth it to Rodulph, here he playeth the
poet, for neither had Peter any such thing to give; and if he had,
yet he would not have given it to Rodulphus from the right heir;
neither is it true that Peter did give it, because Hildebrand gave
it. For it is no good argument, Hildebrand did give it, ergo, Peter
did give it; except ye will say, Hildebrand stirred up great wars and
bloodshed in Germany, ergo, Peter stirred up great wars in Germany.
So Peter neither could, nor would, nor did give it to Rodulphus, but
only Hildebrand the pope; who after he had so done, he gave in
commandment to the archbishop of Mentz and of Cullen to elect this
Rodulphus for emperor, and to anoint him king, and also to defend him
with all force and strength they might.

While this conspiracy was in hand, Henricus the emperor was absent,
and the pope's ambassadors with him also. In the mean space,
Rodulphus was elected emperor, unknown to Henry. Upon this cometh the
bishop of Stausborough unto the emperor, certifying him what was
done. He, suspecting and seeing the stomach and doings of the Saxons
so bent against him, mustereth his men with expedition, and marcheth
forward to defend his right; but first sendeth to Rome, (trusting
upon the league betwixt him and his pope,) and requireth the bishop
to proceed with his sentence against Rodulphus, for the rebellious
invasion of his empire. But the bishop, minding nothing less, sendeth
word again, that it was not right to condemn any person, his cause
being not heard; thus under pretence of the law colouring his
unlawful treachery. Henricus, thus disappointed and forsaken on every
side, with his men about him attempted battle against Rodulphus. In
which battle a marvellous great slaughter was on both sides, but the
victory on neither part certain; so that both the captains yet
challenged the empire. After the battle and great murder on both
sides, they both sent to Rome, to know of the pope's determination,
to whether of them two he judged the right title of the empire to
appertain. The bishop commandeth them both to break up their armies,
and depart the field, promising that he shortly would call a council
where this matter should be disputed; in the mean time they should
cease from war. But before the messengers returned again, (their
armies being refreshed,) they had another conflict together, but not
victory got on either part. Thus both the captains being wearied in
wars, the Romish beast, the bishop, which was the cause thereof,
perceiving whither these cruel wars would tend, to the great calamity
not only of the Germans, but also of other nations, (trusting to find
another way to help Rodulphus and his adherents,) sendeth down a
commission by Otho, archbishop of Trevers, Bernardus, deacon, and
Bernardus, abbot of Massilia; to whom he gave in charge that they
should call together a council or sitting in Almany, and that there
it should be defined to whether part the empire should pertain, by
most right and public consideration; promising that what they should
therein determine he (looking upon the matter through the authority
of God omnipotent, and of St. Peter, and St. Paul) would ratify the
same. Moreover, for that no let nor impeachment should happen to the
legates by the way, he giveth with them letters to the princes and
nations of Germany; whereof the contents be declared briefly in
Platina, if any list to read them.

But the emperor would not so permit the legates to have any council
within Germany, except they would first deprive Rodulphus of his
kingdom. The legates, considering that to be against the drift and
intention of the pope, returned again from whence they came. The pope
hearing this, and seeing his purpose was so disappointed by the
emperor, draweth out another excommunication against him, and again
bereaveth him of his kingdom; sending about his letters
excommunicatory throughout all places, thinking thereby to further
the part of Rodulphus the better.

Furthermore, Hildebrand interdicteth and deposeth also Guibertus,
archbishop of Ravenna, for taking the emperor's part; commanding all
priests to give no manner of obedience to him, and sendeth thither to
Ravenna another archbishop with full authority.

After and upon this, Henricus and Rodulphus, to try the matter by the
sword, coped together in battle, not without bloodshed, where
Henrieus, by the favour of God, against the judgment of Hildebrand,
had the victory. Rodulphus, there greatly wounded in the conflict,
was had out of the army, and carried to Hyperbolis, where he
commanded the bishops and chief doers of his conspiracy to be brought
before him. When they came, he lifted up his right hand, in which be
had taken his deadly wound, and said, This is the hand which gave the
oath and sacrament unto Henrieus my prince, and which through your
instigation so oft hath fought against him in vain; now go and
perform your first oath and allegiance to your king, for I must to my
fathers; and so died. Thus the pope gave battle, but God gave the
victory.

Henricus (after his enemy being thus subdued, and wars being ceased
in Germany) forgat not the old injuries received of Hildebrand, by
whom he was twice excommunicated and expelled from his kingdom, and
three days making humble suit (yea, and that in sharp winter) could
find no favour with him. Besides that, he incited moreover and aided
his enemy against him. Wherefore he calleth to gether a council or
assembly of divers bishops of Italy, Lombardy, and Germany, at
Brixia, 1083, where he purged himself, and accused the bishop
Hildebrand of divers crimes, to be a usurper, perjured, a necromancer
and sorcerer, a sower of discord; complaining moreover of wrongs and
injuries done by the bishop and Church of Rome, in that the Church of
Rome preferred the bishop before him; when that his father, being
emperor before him, had enthronized and set in divers and sundry
bishops there by his assignment, without all others' election. And
now this bishop, contrary to his oath and promise made, thrust in
himself without the will and knowledge of him, being their king and
magistrate. For in the time of his father, Henricus the Third, this
Hildebrand with other bound themselves with a corporal oath, that so
long as the emperor and his son, now being king, should live, they
should neither themselves presume nor suffer any other to aspire to
the papal seat, without the assent and ap probation of the foresaid
emperors; which now this Hildebrand, contrary to his corporal oath,
had done. Wherefore the foresaid council with one agreement condemned
this Gregory, that he should be deposed.

This being enacted and sent to Rome, they elected Guibertus,
archbishop of Ravenna, in the place of Hildebrand, to govern the
Church of Rome, named Clemens the Third. But when Hildebrand neither
would give over his hold, nor give place to Clement, the emperor,
gathering an army to send to Italy, came to Rome to depose Gregory,
and to place Clement. But Hildebrand, sending to Matilda the countess
before mentioned, required her (in remission of all her sins) to
withstand Henry the emperor, and so she did. Notwithstanding Henricus
prevailing came to Rome, where he besieged the city all the Lent, and
after Easter got it, the Romans being compelled to open the gates
unto him; so he coming to the temple of St. Peter, there placeth
Clement in his papacy. Hildebrand straight flieth into Adrian's tower
with his adherents, where he being beset round about at length
sendeth for Robert Guiscardus his friend, a Norman. In the mean time,
while Robertus collecteth his power, the abbot of Cluniake,
conferring with Gregory, exhortethhim to crown Henricus emperor in
Lateran. Which if he would do, the other promiseth to bring about
that Henry should depart with his army into Germany; whereunto the
people of Rome also did likewise move him. To whom Gregory answered,
that he was content so to do, but upon condition that the emperor
would submit himself to ask pardon, to amend his fault, and to
promise obedience. The emperor, not agreeing to those conditions,
went to Senas, taking Clement, new stalled pope, with him.

After the return of the emperor, the foresaid Robert Guiscardus,
approaching with his soldiers, burst in at one of the gates, and
spoileth the city; and not long after delivereth Hildebrand out of
his enemies' hands, and carried him away to Campania, where he, not
long continuing after, died in exile.

Antonius writeth, that Hildebrand, as he did lie a dying, called to
him one of his chief cardinals, bewailing to him his fault and
misorder of his spiritual ministry, in stirring up discord, war, and
dissension; whereupon he desired the cardinal to go to the emperor,
and desire him of forgiveness, absolving from the danger of
excommunication both him and all his partakers, both quick and dead.

Thus hast thou, gentle reader, the full history of Pope Gregory the
Seventh, called Hildebrand, which I have laid out more at large, and
desire thee to mark, because that from this pope, if thou mark well,
springeth all the occasions of mischief, of pomp, pride, stoutness,
presumption, and tyranny, which since that time hath reigned in his
successors hitherto, in the cathedral church of the Romish clergy.
For here came first the subjection of the temporal regiment under the
spiritual jurisdiction; and emperors, which before were their
masters, now are made their underlings. Also here came in the
suppression of priests' marriage, as is sufficiently declared. Here
came in moreover the authority of both the swords spiritual and
secular into spiritual men's hands. So that Christian magistrates
could do nothing in election, in giving bishoprics or benefices, in
calling councils, in hearing and correcting the excesses of the
clergy; but only the pope must do all. Yea, moreover, no bishop nor
pastor in his own parish could excommunicate or exercise any
discipline amongst his flock, but only the pope challenged that
prerogative to himself. Finally, here came in the first example to
persecute emperors and kings with rebellion and excommunication, as
the clergy themselves hereafter do testify and witness in proceeding
against Paschalis. Thus these notes being well observed, let us (by
the grace of Christ) now repair again to our country history of
England.


34. SUMMARY OF THE REIGN AND CHARACTER OF WILLIAM I.

About the death of Pope Hildebrand (or not long after) followed the
death of King William the Conqueror, in the year 1090, after he had
reigned in England the space of one nnd twenty years and ten months.
The cause of his sickness and death is said to be this: For that
Philip the French king upon a time (jesting) said that King William
lay in childbed, and nourished his fat belly. To this the foresaid
William, hearing thereof, answered again, and said, when he should be
churched, he would offer a thousand candles to him in France,
wherewithal the king should have little joy. Whereupon King William
in the month of July (when the corn, fruit, and grapes were most
flourishing) entered into France, and set on fire many cities and
towns in the west side of France. And lastly, coming to the city of
Meaux, where he burning a woman, being as a recluse in a wall
enclosed, (or, as some say, two men anchorites enclosed,) was so
fervent and furious about the fire, that with the heat, partly of the
fire, partly of the time of the year, thereby he fell into sickness,
and died upon the same.

By the life and acts of this king it may appear true, as stories of
him report, that he was wise, but guileful; rich, but covetous; a
fair speaker, but a great dissembler; glorious in victory and strong
in arms, but rigorous in oppressing whom he overcame, in levying of
tasks passing all others. Inso much that he caused to be enrolled and
numbered in his treasury every hide of land, and owner thereof; what
fruit and revenues surmounted of every lordship, of every township,
castle, village, field, river, and wood, within the realm of England.
Moreover, how many parish churches, how many living cattle, there
were, what and how much every baron in the realm could dispend, what
fees were belonging, what wages were taken, &c. The tenor and
contents of which taskment yet remaineth in rolls. After this tasking
or numbering, which was the year before his death, followed an
exceeding murrain of cattle, and barrenness of the ground, with much
pestilence and hot fevers among the people, so that such as escaped
the fever were consumed with famine. Moreover, at the same season,
among certain other cities, a great part of the city of London, with
the church of Paul's, was wasted with fire in the year of our Lord
1085.

 In hunting and in parks the foresaid king had such pleasure, that in
the country of Southampton, by the space of thirty miles, he cast
down churches and townships, and there made the New Forest; loving
his deer so dearly, as though he had been to them a father, making
sharp laws for the increasing thereof, under pain of losing both the
eyes. So hard he was to Englishmen, and so favourable to his own
country, that a there was no English bishop remaining, but only
Wolstan of Worcester, who being commanded of the king and Lanfranc to
resign up his staff, partly for inability. partly for lack of the
French tongue, refused otherwise to resign it, but only to him that
gave it, and so went to the tomb of King Edward, where he thought to
resign it, but was permitted to enjoy it still; so likewise in his
days there was almost no Englishman that bare office of honour or
rule in the land. Insomuch that it was half a shame at that time to
be called an Englishman. Notwithstanding he some deal favoured the
city of London, and granted unto the citizens the first charter that
ever they had, written in the Saxon, with green wax sealed, and
contained in few lines.

Among his other conditions, this in him is noted, that so given he
was to peace and quiet, that any maiden being laden with gold or
silver might pass through the whole realm without harm or resistance.
This William in his time builded two monasteries; one in England, at
Battle in Sussex, where he won the field against Harold, called the
abbey of Battle; another besides, named Barmondsey, in his country of
Normandy.

A little above mention was made of the bishop's see of Shireborne,
translated from thence to Salisbury. The first bishop of Salisbury
was Hirmannus, a Norman, who first began the new church and minster
of Salisbury. After whom succeeded Osmundus, who finished the work,
and replenished the house with great living, and much good singing.
This Osmundus first began the ordinary which was called Secundum usum
Sarum, An. 1076. The occasion whereof was this, as I find in an old
story book entitled Eulogium. A great contention chanced at
Glastenbury between Thurstanus the abbot and his convent, in the days
of William the Conqueror. Which Thurstanus the said William had
brought out of Normandy from the abbey of Cadonum, and placed him
abbot of Glastenbury. The cause of this contentious battle was, for
that Thurstanus contemning their choir service, then called the use
of St. Gregory, compelled his monks to the use of one of William, a
monk of Fiscam in Normandy. Whereupon came strife and contentions
amongst them, first in words, then from words to blows, after blows
then to armour. The abbot, with his guard of harnessed men, fell upon
the monks, and drave them to the steps of the high altar, where two
were slain, eight were wounded with shafts, swords, and pikes. The
monks, then driven to such a strait and narrow shift, were compelled
to defend themselves with forms and candlesticks, wherewith they did
wound certain of the soldiers. One monk there was, (an aged man,)
who, instead of his shield, took an image of the crucifix in his arms
for his defence, which image was wounded in the breast by one of the
bow-men, whereby the monk was saved. My story addeth more, that the
striker incontinent upon the same fell mad; which savoureth of some
monkish addition besides the text. This matter being brought before
the king, the abbot was sent again to Cadonum, and the monks by the
commandment of the king were scattered in far countries. Thus, by the
occasion hereof, Osmumdus, bishop of Salisbury, devised that ordinary
which is called the use of Sarum, and was afterward received in a
manner through all England, Ireland, and Wales. And thus much for
this matter, done in the time of this Kind William.

Which William after his death, by his wife Matildis, or Maud, left
three sons, Robert Courtsey, to whom he gave the duchy of Normandy;
William Rufus, his second son, to whom he gave the kingdom of
England; and Henry the third son, to whom he left and gave treasure;
and warned William to be to his people loving and liberal, Robert to
be to his people stern and sturdy.

In the history called Jornalensis, it is reported of a certain great
man, who about this time of King William was compassed about with
mice and rats, and flying to the midst of a river; yet when that
would not serve, came to the land again, and was of them devoured.
The Germans say that this was a bishop, who, dwelling between Cullen
and Mentz, in time of famine and dearth, having store of corn and
grain, would not help the poverty crying to him for relief, but
rather wished his corn to be eaten up of mice and rats. Wherefore,
being compassed with mice and rats, (by the just judgment of God,) to
avoid the annoyance of them, he builded a tower in the midst of the
river of Rheine (which yet to this day the Dutchmen call Rats'
Tower); but all that would not help, for the rats and mice swam over
to him in as great abundance as they did before, of whom at length he
was devoured.



35. WILLIAM RUFUS

William Rufus, the second son of William the Conqueror, begun his
reign in the year of our Lord 1088, and reigned thirteen years, being
crowned at Westminster by Lanfranc; who, after his coronation,
released out of prison, by the request of his father, divers English
lords, which before had been in custody. It chanced that, at the
death of Wil1iam the Conqueror, Robert Courtsey his eldest son was
absent in Almany, who, hearing of the death of his father, and how
William his younger brother had taken upon him the kingdom, was
therewith greatly moved; insomuch that he laid his dukedom to pledge
unto his brother Henry, and with that good gathered unto him an army,
and so landed at Hampton, to the intent to have expelled his brother
from the kingdom. But William Rufus hearing thereof sent to him fair
and gentle words, promising him surrender and subjection, as to the
more worthy and elder brother; this thing only requiring, that seeing
he was now in place and possession, he might enjoy it during his
life, paying to him yearly three thousand marks, with condition that
which of them overlived the other should enjoy the kingdom. The
occasion of this variance between these brethren wrought a great
dissension between the Norman lords and bishops, both in England and
in Normandy. Insomuch that all the Norman bishops within the realm
almost rebelled against the king, taking part with Duke Robert,
except only Lanfranc, and Wolstan, bishop of Worcester, above
mentioned, an Englishman; who for his virtue and constancy was so
well-liked and favoured of his citizens, that (imboldened with his
presence and prayer) they stoutly maintained the city of Worcester
against the siege of their enemies, and at last vanquished them with
utter ruin. But Duke Robert at length by the advice of his council
(hearing the words sent unto him, and wagging his head thereat, as
one conceiving some matter of doubt or doubleness) was yet content to
assent to all that was desired, and so returned shortly after into
Normandy, leaving the bishops and such others in the briers, which
were in England, taking his part against the king.

This Rufus was so ill liked of the Normans, that between him and his
lords was oft dissension. Wherefore (well near) all the Normans took
part against him; so that he was forced of necessity to draw to him
the Englishmen. Again, so covetous he was, and so immeasurable in his
tasks and takings, in selling benefices, abbeys, and bishoprics, that
he was hated of all Englishmen.

In the third year of this king died Lanfranc, archbishop of
Canterbury; from whose commendation and worthiness, as I list not to
detract any thing, (being so greatly magnified of Polydorus his
countryman,) so neither do I see any great cause why to add any thing
thereto. This I think, unless that man had brought with him less
superstition, and more sincere science into Christ's church, he might
have kept him in his country still, and have confuted Berengarius at
Rome. After the decease of Lanfranc, the see of Canterbury stood
empty four years.

After the council of Lanfranc above mentioned, wherein was concluded
for translating of bishops' sees from villages into head cities;
Remigius, bishop of Dorchester, (who, as ye heard, accompanied
Lanfranc unto Rome,) removed his bishop's see from Dorchester unto
Lincoln, where he builded the minster there situate upon a hill
within the said city of Lincoln. The dedication of which church
Robert, archbishop of York, did resist, say ing that it was builded
within the ground of his precinct. But after, it had his Romish
dedication by Robert Blevet, next bishop that followed. By the same
Remigius also was founded the cloister or monastery of Stow, &c.

In the fourth year of this king great tempests fell in sundry places
of England, specially at Winchcombe, where the steeple was burned
with lightning, the church wall burst through, the head and right leg
of the crucifix, with the image of our lady on the right side of the
crucifix, thrown down, and such a stink left in the church, that none
might abide. At London the force of the weather and tempest
overturned six hundred houses. In which tempest the roof of Bow-
church was hurled up in the wind, and by the vehemency thereof was
pitched down a great deepness into the ground.

King William, (as ye have heard,) an exceeding poller, or ravener
rather, of church goods, after he had given the bishopric of Lincoln
to his chancellor, Robert Blevet above minded, began to cavil;
avouching the see of Lincoln to belong to the see of York; till the
bishop of Lincoln had pleased him with a great sum of money of five
thousand marks, &c.

And as nothing could come in those days with out money from the king,
so Herbert Losinga, paying to the king a piece of money, was made
bishop of Thetford, as he had paid a little before to be abbot of
Ramsey. Who likewise, the same time removing his see from Thetford to
the city of Norwich, there erected the cathedral church with the
cloister in the said city of Norwich, where he furnished the monks
with sufficient living and rents of his own charges, besides the
bishop's lands. After ward, repenting of his open and manifest
simony, he went to Rome, where he resigned into the pope's hands his
bishopric, but so that incontinent he received it again. This Herbert
was the son of an abbot called Robert, for whom he purchased of the
king to be bishop of Winchester.

Ye heard a little before of the death of Pope Hildebrand, after the
time of which Hildebrand the German emperors began to lose their
authority and right in the pope's election, and in giving of
benefices. For next after this Hildebrand came Pope Victor, by the
setting up of Matilda, and the duke of Normandy, with the faction and
retinue of Hildebrand, who likewise showed himself stout against the
emperor. But God gave the shrewd cow short horns. For Victor being
poisoned (as some say in his chalice) sat but one year and a half.
Notwithstanding the same imitation and example of Hildebrand
continued still in them that followed after. And like as the kings of
Israel followed most part the steps of Jeroboam, till the time of
their desolation; so for the greatest part all popes followed the
steps and proceedings of this Hildebrand, their spiritual Jeroboam,
in maintaining of false worship, and chiefly in upholding the dignity
of that see, against all rightful authority, and the lawful kingdom
of Zion. In the time of this Victor began the order of the monks of
Charterhouse, through the means of one Hugo, bishop of Gracionople,
and of Bruno, bishop of Cullen.

Next to Victor sat Urban the Second, by whom the acts of Hildebrand
were confirmed, and also new decrees enacted against Henry the
emperor. In this time were two popes at Rome, Urbanus, and Clemens
the Third, whom the emperor set up. Under Pope Urban came in the
white monks of the Cistereian order, by one Stephen Harding, a monk
of Shireborne, (an Englishman,) by whom this order had his beginning
in the wilderness of Cistery, with in the province of Burgoin, as
witnesseth Cestrensis. Others write that this Harding was the second
abbot of that place, and that it was first founded by the means of
one Robert, abbot of Molism in Cestercium, a forest in Burgundy, A.D.
1098, persuaded perchance by Harding; and afterwards, in the year of
our Lord 1135, it was brought into England by a certain man called
Espeke, which builded an abbey of the same order called Merinale. In
this order the monks did live by the labour of their hands; they paid
no tithes nor offerings, they wore no fur nor lining, they wore red
shoes, their cowls white, and coats black, all shorn save a little
circle, they ate no flesh but only in their journey. Of this order
was Bernardus, &c.

This Urban held divers councils; one at Rome, where he excommunicated
all such lay persons as gave investiture of any ecclesiastical
benefice; also all such of the clergy as abjected themselves to be
underlings or servants to lay persons for ecclesiastical benefices,
&c.

Another council he held at Cleremount in France, where among other
things the bishop made an oration to the lords being there present,
concerning the voyage and recovering the Holy Land from the Turks and
Saracens. The cause of which voyage first sprang by one Peter, a monk
or hermit, who being in Jerusalem, and seeing the great misery of the
Christians under the pagans, made thereof declaration to Pope Urban,
and was therein a great solicitor to all Christian princes. By reason
where of, after the foresaid oration of Pope Urban, thirty thousand
men (taking on them the sign of the cross for their cognizance) made
preparation for that voyage, whose captains were Godfrey, duke of
Loraine, with his two brethren, Eustace and Baldwin, the bishop of
Pody, Bohemund, duke of Puel, and his nephew Tancredus, Raimund, earl
of St. Egidius, Robert, earl of Flanders, and Hugh Ie Grand, brother
of Philip the French king. To whom also was joined Robert Curthose,
duke of Normandy, with divers other noblemen, with the foresaid Peter
the hermit, who was the chief causer of that voyage.

At that time many of the said noblemen laid their lands and lordships
to mortgage to provide for the forenamed voyage; as Godfrey, duke of
Loraine, who sold the dukedom of Boulogne to the bishop of Eburone
for a great sum of money. Also Robert Curthose, duke of Normandy,
laid his dukedom to pledge to his brother William, king of England,
for ten thousand pounds, &e.

Thus the Christians, which passed first over Bosphorus, having to
their captain Peter the hermit, (a man perchance more devout than
expert to guide an army,) being trapped of their enemies, were slain
and murdered in great numbers among the Bulgars, and near to the town
called Civitus.

When the nobles and the whole army met together at Constantinople,
(where Alexius was emperor,) passing over by Hellespontus going to
Jerusalem, they took the cities of Nicea, Eraclea, Tarsis, and
subdued the country of Cicilia, appointing the possession thereof to
certain of their captains.

Antioch was besieged, and in the ninth month of the siege it was
yielded to the Christians by one Pyrrhus; about which season were
fought many strong batties, to the great slaughter and desolation of
the Saracens, and not without loss of many Christian men. The
governance of this city was committed to Bohemund, duke of Puell,
whose martial knighthood was often proved in time of the siege
thereof.

And not long after, Corbona, master of the Persians' chivalry, was
vanquished and slain, with a hundred thousand infidels. In which
discomfiture were taken fifteen thousand camels.

Jerusalem, on the nine and thirtieth day of the siege, was conquered
by the Christians. Robert also, duke of Normandy, was elect to be
king thereof. Howbeit he refused it, hearing of the death of King
William Rufus of England; wherefore he never sped well in all his
affairs after the same. Then Godfrey, captain of the Christian army,
was proclaimed the first king of Jerusalem. At the taking of the city
was such a murder of men, that blood was congealed in the street the
thickness of a foot. Then after Godfrey reigned Baldwin his brother;
after him Baldwin the second nephew; then Gaufridus, duke of Gaunt,
and after him Gaufridus his son, by whom many great battles there
were fought against the Saracens, and all the country thereabout
subdued, save Ascalon, &c. And thus much hitherto touching the voyage
to the Holy Land. Now to our own land again.

About this time (as Matt. Parisiensis writeth) the king of England
favoured not much the see of Rome, because of their impudent and
unsatiable exactions which they required; neither would he suffer any
of his subjects to go to Rome, alleging these words, because they
follow not the steps of Peter, hunting for rewards; neither have they
the power and authority of him, whose holiness they declare
themselves not to follow, &c.

By the same Urbanus the seven hours, which we call Septem horas
canonicas, were first instituted in the church.

Item, by this pope was decreed, no bishop to be made but under the
name and title of some certain place.

Item, that matins and hours of the day should every day be said.

Also every Saturday to be said the mass of our Lady, and all the
Jews' sabbath to be turned to the service of our Lady, as in the
Council of Turon, to the which service was appointed the anthem, Ora
pro populo, interveni pro clero, intercede pro de voto fœmineo sexu.

Item, all such of the clergy as had wives to be deprived of their
order.

Item, to be lawful for subjects to break their oath of allegiance
with all such as were by the pope excommunicate.

Item, not to be lawful both for husband and wife to christen one
child both together; with many more matters.

In the sixth year of this king's reign, Malcolme, king of Scots,
which former times before had made great slaughter of old and young
in the north parts, as is before showed, burst into Northumberland
with all the power he could make, and there by the right judgment of
God was slain, with his son Edward, and also Margaret his wife,
sister to Edgar Adeling above minded, a virtuous and devout lady,
within three days after.

The same year he gave the archbishopric of Canterbury (after that he
had detained the same in his own hands four years) to Anselm, abbot
of Beck in Normandy.

This Anselm was an Italian, in the city of Augusta born, and brought
up in the abbey of Beck, in Normandy; where he was so strict a
follower of virtue, that (as the story recordeth) he wished rather to
be without sin in hell, than in heaven with sin. Which saying and
wish of his (if it were his) may seem to proceed out of a mind,
neither speaking orderly according to the phrase and understanding of
the Scripture, nor yet sufficiently acquainted with. the
justification of a Christian man. Further, they report him to be so
far from singularity, that he should say it was the vice which thrust
the angels first out of heaven, and man out of paradise.

Of this Anselm it is moreover reported, that he was so ill-willing to
take the archbishopric, that the king had much ado to thrust it upon
him; and he was so desirous to have him take it, that the city of
Canterbury (which before Lanfranc did hold but at the king's good
will and pleasure) he gave now to Anselm wholly, which was about the
year of our Lord 1093. But as desirous as the king was then to place
the said Anselm, so much did he repent it afterward, seeking all
manner of means to defeat him if he might. Such strife and contention
rose between them two for certain matters, the ground and occasion
whereof first was this:

After that Anselm had been thus elected to the see of Canterbury,
before he was fully consecrate, the king communed with him (assaying
by all gentle manner of words to entreat him) that such lands and
possessions of the church of Canterbury as the king had given and
granted to his friends since the death of Lanfranc, they might still
enjoy the same as their own lawful possessions through his grant and
permission. But to this Anselm in no case would agree. Whereupon the
king, conceiving great displeasure against him, did stop his
consecration a great season; till at length in long process of time
the king, enforced by the daily complaints and desires of his people
and subjects for lack of an archbishop to moderate the church, was
constrained to admit and authorize him unto them. Thus Anselm with
much ado taking his consecration, and doing his homage to the king,
went to his see of Canterbury. And not long after the king sailed
over to Normandy.

About this time there were two striving in Rome for the popedom, as
is afore touched, Urbanus and Guibertus; divers realms diversely
consenting, some to the one, some to the other. England, taking part
with their king, was rather inclined to Guibertus, called Clement the
Third; but Anselm did fully go with Urbanus, making so his exception
with the king, entering to his bishopric. After the king was returned
again from Normandy, the archbishop cometh to him, and asked leave to
go to Rome, to fetch his pall of Pope Urban; which when he could not
at first obtain, he maketh his appeal from the king to the pope.
Whereat the king being justly displeased, chargeth the archbishop
with breach of his fealty, contrary to his promise made; that is, if
he without his licence should appeal either to Urban or to any other
pope. Anselm answereth again, that it was to be referred unto some
greater council, where it is to be disputed, whether this be to break
a man's allegiance to a terrene prince, if he appeal to the vicar of
St. Peter. And here much arguing and contending was on both sides.
The king's reason proceedeth thus: The custom (saith he) from my
father's time hath been in England, that no person should appeal to
the pope without the king's licence. He that breaketh the customs of
the realm violateth the power and crown of the kingdom. He that
violateth and taketh away my crown is a traitor and enemy against me,
&c. To this Anselm replieth again: The Lord (saith he) easily
discusseth this question, briefly teaching what fidelity and
allegiance we ought to give unto the vicar of St. Peter, where he
saith, Thou art Peter, and upon this rock will I build my church, &c.
And to thee will I give the keys of the kingdom of heaven; and
whatsoever thou shalt bind in earth, it shall be bound in heaven; and
whatsoever thou loosest in earth, shall be loosed in heaven, &c.
Again, to them all in general he saith, He that heareth you heareth
me; and whoso despiseth you despiseth me. And in another place, He
that toucheth you toucheth the apple of mine eye. On the other side,
what duty we owe to the king, he showeth also: Give (saith he) to the
emperor what belongeth to the emperor, and to God give that which to
God belongeth. Wherefore in such things as belong to God I will
yield, and must yield by good right and duty, my obedience to the
vicar of St. Peter; and in such things as belong again to terrene
dignities of my prince, in those I will not deny to him my faithful
help and counsel, so far as they can extend.

Thus have ye the grounded arguments of this prelate to stand so
stiffly against his prince, where unto peradventure was joined also
some piece of a stubborn heart. But in this conclusion none of his
fellow bishops durst take his part, but were all against him; namely,
William, bishop of Duresme, to whom Anselm thus protesteth, saying,
Whosoever he were that would presume to prove it any breach of
allegiance or fealty to his sovereign, if he appealed to the vicar of
St. Peter, he was ready to answer at all times to the contrary. The
bishop of Duresme answered again, that he which would not be ruled by
reason must with force be constrained, &c. The king, having on his
part the agreement of the bishops, thought to deprive the archbishop
both of his pastoral see, and to expel him out of the realm. But he
could not perform his purpose; for Anselm, as he was ready to depart
the realm, said, whensoever he went, he would take his office and
authority with him, though he took nothing else. Whereupon that
matter was deferred till a longer time. In the mean season the king
had sent privily two messengers unto Pope Urban, to entreat him to
send his pall to the king, for him to give it where he would. Which
messengers by this time were returned again, bringing with them from
Rome Gualter, bishop of Alban, the pope's legate, with the pall to be
given unto Anselm. This legate, first landing at Dover, from thence
came privily (unknown to Anselm) to the king; declaring and
promising, that if Urban was received pope in England, whatsoever the
king required to be obtained, he by his privilege from the
apostolical see would ratify and confirm the same; save only that
when the king required of the legate that Anselm might be removed,
the legate thereunto would not agree, saying that it was unpossible
to be obtained, that such a man as he, being lawfully called, should
be expelled without manifest cause. In conclusion, so it followed,
that although he could not obtain his request of the legate, yet the
legate so wrought with the king, that Urban was proclaimed lawful
pope throughout all the realm.

Then were sent to Anselm certain bishops to move and prove his mind,
declaring what charges and pains the king had been at in his behalf
to procure the pall for him from Rome, which otherwise would have
stood him in great expenses, and that all this the king had done for
his sake. Wherefore it were good reason and convenient that he (to
gratify the king) should something condescend to his request again.
But with all this Anselm, the stout archbishop, would not be moved.
Wherefore the king, seeing none other remedy, was compelled to grant
unto him the full right of his archbishopric. And so the day
appointed when the pall should be brought to Canterbury, (being
carried with all solemnity in a thing of silver,) the archbishop,
with a great concourse of people, came forth barefoot with his
priestly vestments, after a most goodly manner, to meet the same; and
so being brought in, it was laid upon the altar, while Anselm
(spreading over his shoulders his popish vestments) proceeded unto
his popish mass.

Thus agreement being made between the king and the bishop, so long as
it would hold, it happened the year following the king with his army
entered into Wales, to subdue such as there rebel led against him.
After the victory gotten, the king returned home again with triumph;
to whom Anselm thought to have come to congratulate his prosperous
success. But the king prevented him by messengers, laying to the
bishop's charge both the small number and the evil service of his
soldiers sent to him at his need. At the hearing hereof, all the hope
of Anselm was dashed, who at the same present had thought to have
obtained and done many great matters with the king touching the state
of the church. But here all turned contrary to his expectation;
insomuch that he was charged, against the next court of parliament,
to make his answer. But he avoided that by appealing to Rome.
Wherefore he made his suit and friends to the king for licence to go
to the pope. Unto the which suit the king answered again, that he
should not go, neither was there any cause for him so to do; for that
both he knew him to be of so sound a life, that he had done no such
offence whereof he needed to crave absolution at Rome, neither was
there any such lack of science and knowledge that he needed to borrow
any counsel there: insomuch (saith the king) I dare say Pope Urban
rather hath to give place to the wisdom of Anselm, than Anselm to
have need of Urban. Wherefore as he hath no cause to go, so I charge
him to tarry. And if he continue in his stubbornness still, I will
assuredly seize upon his possessions, and convert his archbishopric
into my coffers; for that he transgresseth and breaketh his fidelity
and obeisance, promising before to observe all the customs of my
kingdom. Neither is it the fashion in this realm, that any of my
nobles should go to Rome without my sending. And therefore let him
swear unto me, that he shall neither for any grievance appeal
hereafter to the see of Rome, or else let him void my realm.

Against these words of the king Anselm, thinking not best to reply
again by any message, but by word of mouth, coming himself personally
to the king, he placeth himself (after his order) on the right hand
of the prince, where he made his reply unto the message sent to him
by the king. Whereas you say I ought not to go to Rome either in
regard of any trespass, or for abundance of counsel and knowledge in
me, (albeit I grant neither of them to be true,) yet what the truth
is therein I refer it to the judgment of God. And whereas ye say that
I promised to keep and observe your customs, that I grant, but with a
condition, so far to keep them, and such of them to observe, as were
consonant to the laws of God, and ruled with right and equity.
Moreover, whereas ye charge me with breach of my fidelity and
allegiance, for that contrary to your customs I appeal to the see
apostolic, (my reverence and duty to your sovereignty reserved,) if
another would say it, that is untrue. For the fidelity and obeisance
that I owe to thee, O king, I have it of the faith and fidelity of
God, whose vicar St. Peter is, to whose seat I do appeal. Further,
whereas ye require me to swear, that I shall for no cause hereafter
at any time appeal to Rome, I pronounce openly that a Christian
prince requireth such an oath of his archbishop unjustly. For if I
should forswear St. Peter, I should deny Christ. And when I shall at
any time deny Christ, then shall I be content and ready to stand to
the satisfaction of my transgression to you, for asking licence to go
to Rome. And peradventure when I am gone, the goods of the church
shall not so serve your temporal desires and commodities as ye ween
for. At these words of the bishop the king and his nobles were not a
little incensed; they defending again, that in his promise of
observing the king's customs, there was neither condition nor any
clause put in, either of God or right. Nowise? said Anselm. If so be
that in your customs was neither mention made of God nor of right,
whereof was there mention then? For God forbid that any Christian
should be bound to any customs which go contrary to God and to right.
Thus on both sides passed much altercation between them.

At length the king, after many threatening words, told him he should
carry nothing out of the realm with him. Well, said the bishop, if I
may neither have my horse nor garments with me, then will I walk on
foot; and so addressed him toward his journey, (all the other bishops
forsaking him,) whereof none would take his part; but if he came to
them for counsel, they said he was wise enough, and needed not their
counsel, as who for his prudence knew best what was to be done, as
also for his holiness was willing and able to persecute the same that
he did know. As for them, they neither durst nor would stand against
the king their lord; whose favour they could not lack, for the peril
that might happen both to themselves and their kindred. But for him,
because he was both a stranger, and void of such worldly corruption
in him, they willed him to go forward as he had begun; their secret
consent he should have, but their open voice they would not give him.
Thus Anselm, remaining at Dover fifteen days tarrying for wind, at
last sped him toward his passage. But his packing being secretly
known in the court, the king's officer, William Warlwast, prevented
his purpose, searching by the king's commandment all his trusses,
coffers, satchels, sleeves, purse, napkin, and bosom for letters, and
for money, and so let him pass. Who, sailing into France, first
rested awhile at Lyons, from thence came to Rome to Pope Urban,
according to the tenor and form of a certain epistle of his; wherein.
among many other things in the same epistle contained, these words he
writeth to Pope Paschalis, the third year after his banishment, after
the death of Urban, and a little before the death of the king.


"To the lord and rererend father Paschalis, high bishop, Anselm,
servant of the church of Canterbury, offereth due subjection from his
heart, and prayers, if they can stand in any stead.

"I see in England many evils, whose correction belongeth to me, and
which I could neither amend, nor suffer without mine own fault. The
king desireth of me, that under the name of right I should consent to
his pleasures, which were against the law and will of God. For he
would not have the pope received nor appealed unto in England without
his commandment; neither that I should send a letter unto him, or
receive any from him, or that I should obey his decrees. He suffered
not a council to be kept in his realm now these thirteen years, since
he was king. In all these things, and such like, if I asked any
counsel, all my suffragan bishops of his realm denied to give me any
counsel, but according to the king's pleasure. After that I saw these
and such other things that are done against the will and law of God,
I asked a licence of him to go to Rome unto the see apostolical, that
I might there take counsel for my soul, and the office committed unto
me. The king said that I offended against him for the only asking of
licence; and propounded to me, that either I should make him amends
for the same as a trespass, (assuring him never to ask his licence
any more to appeal to the pope at any time here after,) or else that
I should quickly depart out of his land. Wherefore, choosing rather
to go out of the land than to agree to so wicked a thing, I came to
Rome, as you know, and declared the whole matter to the Lord Pope.
The king by and by (as soon as I went out of England) invaded the
whole archbishopric, and turned it to his own use, taxing the monks
only with bare meat, drink, and cloth. The king, being warned and
desired of the Lord Pope to amend this, contemned the same, and yet
continueth in his purpose still. And now is the third year since I
came thus out of England, and more. Some men, not understanding,
demand why I did not excommunicate the king. But the wiser sort, and
such as have understanding, counsel me that I do not this thing;
because it belongeth not unto me both to complain and to punish. To
conclude, I was forewarned by my friends that are under the king,
that mine excommunication (if it should be done) would be laughed to
scorn and despised," &c.


By these here above prefixed, appeareth how Anselm, the archbishop,
coming unto Rome, made his complaint to Pope Urban of the king; and
how the pope, writing unto the king in the behalf of Anselm, his
letters and commandments were despised. And now to our story. In the
mean time, while the pope's letters were sent to the king, Anselm was
bid to wait about the pope to look for answer back. Who perceiving at
length how little the king reputed the pope's letters, began to be
weary of his office, desiring the pope that he might be discharged
thereof; but the pope in no case would thereto consent, charging him
upon his obedience, that wheresoever he went, he should bear with him
the name and honour of the archbishop of Canterbury. Whereunto Anselm
again said his obedience he neither durst nor would refuse, as who
for God's cause was ready to suffer whatsoever should happen, (yea,
though it were death itself,) as he thought no less would follow
thereof. But what should we think, saith he, is there to be done,
where justice not only taketh no place, but is utterly oppressed? And
whereas my suffragans do not only not help (for dread) the righteous
cause, but also for favour do impugn the same. Well, (saith the
pope,) as touching these matters, we shall sufficiently provide at
the next council to be holden at Baion, whereat I will you the same
time and place to be present.

When the time of the council was come, Anselm amongst others was
called for, who, first sitting in an utter side of the bishops,
afterwards was placed at the right foot of the pope. Whereupon the
same place after him was appointed to the successors of the see of
Canterbury, in every general council, by the decree of Pope Urban, to
sit at the right foot of the pope. In this said council great stir
and much reasoning there was against the Grecians, concerning the
matter and order of proceeding of the Holy Ghost. Where is to be
noted, that the Greek Church hath of long time dissented from the
Latin Church in many and sundry points, to the number of twenty, or
almost twenty-nine, articles, as I have them collected out of the
register of the church of Hereford; whereof like as occasion 
hereafter may serve (God willing) for a further and more ample
tractation to be made; so here, by the way, partly I mean to touch
some.

The first is, Wherein the Greek Church differeth from the Latin.

The articles wherein the Greek Church altereth from the Latin or
Romish Church are these:

1. They are not under the obedience of the Church of Rome, because
that the Church of Constantinople is not subject, but equal to the
same.

2. They hold that the bishop of the apostolic see of Rome hath not
greater power than the four patriarchs. And whatsoever the pope doth
beside their knowledge, or without their approbation, it is of no
value.

3. Item, they say whatsoever hath been done or concluded since the
second general council, is of no full authority; because from that
time they recount the Latins to he in error, and to be excluded out
of the holy church.

4. Item, they hold the eucharist consecrated by the Church of Rome
not to be the very body of Christ. Also where the Romish Church dotb
consecrate in unleavened bread, they consecrate in bread leavened.

5. Item, they say that the Romish Church doth err in the words of
baptism, for saying, I baptize thee; when they should say, Let this
creature of God be baptized, &c.

6. They hold, moreover, to be no purgatory, nor that the suffrages of
the church do avail the dead, either to lessen the pain of them that
be destinate to hell, or to increase the glory of them that be
ordained to salvation.

7. Item, they hold that the souls out of the bodies departed (whether
they have done good or evil) have not their perfect pain nor glory;
but are reserved in a certain place till the day ofjudgment.

8. Item, they condemn the Church of Rome for mixing cold water in
their sacrifice.

9. Item, they condemn the Church of Rome, for that as well women as
priests anoint children (when they baptize them) on both shoulders.

10. Item, they call our bread panagia.

11. Item, they blame the Church of Rome for celebrating their mass on
other days besides Sun days, and certain other feasts appointed.

12. Also in this the Greek Church varieth from the Latin; for they
have neither cream, nor oil, nor sacrament of confirmation.

13. Neither do they use extreme unction, or anointing, after the
manner of the Roman Church, expounding the place of St. James of the
spiritual infirmity, and not corporal.

14. Item, they enjoin no satisfaction for penance, but only that they
show themselves to the priests, anointing them with simple oil, in
token of remission of sins.

15. Item, only on Maundy Thursday they consecrate for the sick,
keeping it for the whole year after, thinking it to be more holy on
that day consecrated than upon any other. Neither do they fast any
Saturday through the whole year, but only on Easter-eve.

16. Item, they give but only five orders, as of clerks, subdeacons,
deacons, priests, and bishops; whenas the Roman Church giveth nine
orders, after the nine orders of angels.

17. Moreover, the Greeians in their orders make no vow of chastity,
alleging for them the fifth canon of Nice. I, N., priest, or deacon,
will not forsake my wife for honesty sake.

18. Item, every year the Grecians use upon certain days to
excommunicate the Church of Rome and all the Latins as heretics.

19. Item, among the said Grecians they are excommunicate that beat or
strike a priest. Neither do their religious men live in such priestly
chastity as the Roman priests do.

20. Item, their emperor amongst them doth ordain patriarchs, bishops,
and other of the clergy, and deposeth the same at his pleasure; also
he giveth benefices to whom be listeth, and retaineth the fruits of
the same benefices as pleaseth him.

21. Item, they blame the Latin Church, because they eat no flesh,
eggs, and cheese on Fridays, and do eat flesh on Saturdays.

22. Item, they hold against the Latin men for celebrating without the
consecrated church, either in the house or in the field; and fasting
on the sabbath day; and for permitting menstruous women to enter into
the church before their purifying; also for suffering dogs and other
beasts to enter into the church.

23. The Grecians use not to kneel in all their devotions, yea, not to
the body of Christ, (as the register termeth it,) but one day in the
whole year; saying and affirming, that the Latins be goats and
beasts, for they are always prostrating themselves upon the ground in
their prayers.

24. The Grecians moreover permit not the Latins to celebrate upon
their altars. And if it chance any Latin priest to celebrate upon
their altar, by and by they wash their altar, in token of abomination
and false sacrifice. And diligently they observe, that whensoever
they do celebrate, they do but one liturgy or mass upon one altar or
table that day.

25. Item, they dissent from the Church of Rome touching the order and
manner of the proceeding of the Holy Ghost.

These articles, wherein is declared the difference between the East
and West Church, of the Grecians and Romans, as I found them
articulated and collected in an ancient and authentical register of
the church of Hereford; so I thought here to insert them, and leave
them to the consideration of the reader. Other four articles more in
the same re gister be there expressed, concerning simony, usury, not
with them forbidden; and touching also their emperor, and how they
teach their children to hurt or damnify by any manner of way the
Latin priests, &c. Which articles, for that either they seem not
truly collected out of their teachings, or else not greatly pertinent
to the doctrine of religion, I overpass them. To the purpose now of
our story again.

When certain of these above prefixed were moved in the foresaid
council to be discussed, namely, concerning the assertion of
proceeding of the Holy Ghost, and concerning leavened bread in the
ministration of the Lord's supper, Anselm, as is above said, was
called for, who, in the tractation of the same articles, so bestirred
him in that council, that he well liked the pope and them about him,
as mine author recordeth. Whereupon, touching the matter of
unleavened bread, how indifferently he seemed there to reason, and
what he writeth to Waltram, bishop of Nurenburgh, thereof ye shall
hear by a piece of his letter sent to the said bishop, the copy
whereof ensueth.


Anselm, servant to the church of Canterbury, to Waltram, bishop of
Nurenburgh.

"As concerning the sacrifice, in which the Grecians think not as we
do, it seemeth to many reasonable catholic men that which they do not
to be against the Christian faith; for both he that sacrificeth
unleavened and leavened sacrificeth bread. And where it is read of
our Lord, (when he made his body of bread,) that he took bread and
blessed, it is not added unleavened or leavened. Yet it is certain
that he blessed unleavened bread, (peradventure,) not because the
thing that was done required that, but because the supper, in which
this was done, did give that. And whereas in another place he called
himself and his flesh bread, because that as man liveth temporally
with this bread, so with that bread he liveth for ever, he saith not
unleavened or leavened, because both alike are bread; for unleavened
and leavened differ not in substance, as some think; like as a new
man afore sin, and an old man rooted in the leaven of sin, differ not
in substance. For this cause, therefore, only he might be thought to
call himself and his flesh bread, and made his body of bread, because
that this bread (unleavened or leavened) giveth a transitory life;
and his body giveth everlasting life, not for that it is either
leavened or unleavened. Al though it be a commandment in the law to
eat unleavened bread in the passover, where all things are done in a
figure, that it might be declared that Christ, whom they looked for,
was pure and clean; and we that should eat his body were admonished
to be likewise pure from all leaven of malice and wickedness. But
now, after we are come from the old figure to the new truth, and eat
the unleavened flesh of Christ, that old figure in bread (of which we
make that flesh) is not necessary for us. But manifest it is to be
better sacrificed of unleavened than of leavened," &c.


To this letter I have also adjoined another epistle of his to the
said Waltram, appertaining to matters not much unlike to the same
effect, wherein he treats touching the variety and divers usages of
the sacraments in the church; whereby such as call and cry for so
much uniformity in the church, may note peradventure in the same
something for their better understanding.


A piece of another letter of Anselm to the said
Waltram, bishop of Nurenburgh.

"To the reverend father and his friend, Waltram, by the grace of God,
the worshipful bishop of Nurenburgh, Anselm, the servant of the
church of Canterbury, greeting, &c.
"Your worship complaineth of the sacraments of the church, that
they are not made every where after one sort, but are handled in
divers places after divers sorts. And truly, if they were ministered
after one sort, and agreeing through the whole church, it were good
and laudable. Yet notwithstanding, because there be many diversities
which differ not in the sum of the sacrament, in the strength of it,
or in the faith, or else can be gathered into one custom, I think
that they are rather to be borne with in agreement of peace, than to
be condemned with offence. For we have this from the holy fathers,
that if the unity of charity be kept in the catholic faith, the
diversity of customs hurteth no thing. But if it be demanded whereof
this diversity of customs doth spring, I perceive no other cause
thereof but the diversity of men's wits, which although they differ
not in strength and truth of the thing, yet they agree not in the
fitness and comeliness of the ministering. For that which one judgeth
to be meeter, oftentimes another thinketh less meet; wherefore not to
agree in such diversities, I think it not to swerve from the truth of
the thing."


Then in the story it followeth, after long debating and discussing of
these matters in the council, when they had given forth their
determination upon the same, and the pope had blasted out his
thundering excommunications against the Grecians, and all that took
their part; at length were brought in the com plaints and accusation
against the king of England. Upon the hearing whereof, Pope Urban
with his adherents was ready to proceed in excommunication against
the king. But Anselm kneeling be fore the pope, after he had first
accused his king, then after obtained for him longer time to be given
upon further trial.

Thus the council breaking up, the pope, returning again to Rome,
directeth down his letters to the king, commanding him that Anselm,
with all his partakers, (in speedy wise.) should be revested again
into his archbishopric, and all other possessions thereunto
appertaining. To this the king sendeth answer again by messengers;
who, coming to the pope, declared in the king's behalf on this wise:
that the king their master did not a little marvel what came in his
mind to command Anselm to be revested and reseated again into his
former archbishopric; seeing he told him before plainly, that if he
went out of England without his leave, he would so do unto him. Well,
(saith the pope,) have ye no other matter against Anselm but only
this? No (quoth they). And have ye taken all this travail (saith the
pope) to come hither so far to tell me this, that the primate of your
country is therefore disseized and dispossessed, because he hath
appealed to the see and judgment apostolical? Therefore if thou
lovest thy lord, speed thee home and tell him, if he will not be
excommunicated, that he quickly revest Anselm again to all that he
had before. And lest I make thee to be hanged for thy labour, look to
thy term, and see that thou bring me answer again from him into this
city against the next council, the third week after Easter. The
messenger or speaker, being somewhat astonied at the bearing of this
so tragical answer, thinking yet to work something for his king and
master, came secretly to the pope, saying that he would confer a
certain mystery from his king privately with his Holiness between
them two. What mystery that was, or what there passed from the king
to the pope and the court of Rome, mine author doth not show; but so
cunningly that mystery was handled, that, with a full consent both of
the pope and all the court of Rome, a longer day was given, from
Easter to Michaelmas, and the pope's choleric heat so assuaged, that
when the council came, (which then was holden at St. Pe ter's church
in Rome,) albeit great complaints were then denounced against the
king; yet such favour was found, that he took no harm. Only the
sentence of excommunication was there pronounced against such lay
persons as gave investiture of churches, and them that were so
invested. Also against them that do consecrate such, or which give
themselves in subjection to laymen for ecclesiastical livings, as is
before touched, &c.

This council being finished, the archbishop seeing the unstedfastness
of the pope, (which pleased him but a little,) took his journey to
Lyons, where he continued his abode a long time, till the death first
of Pope Urban, then after of the king.

Of this King William many things be diversely recorded, some to his
commendation, and some to his discommendation; whereof this is one,
which some will ascribe to hardiness, but I rather to rashness in
him. As this king upon a time was in his disport of hunting, suddenly
word came to him that Cenourona (a city in Normandy) was besieged.
The king, without longer tarrying or advisement, took the straight
way toward the sea-side, sending to his lords that they should follow
after. They, being come to his presence, advised him to stay till the
time his people were assembled; but he would not be stayed, saying,
that such as him loved (he knew) would follow him shortly, and so
went to take ship. The shipmaster, seeing the weather so dark and
cloudy, was afraid, and counselled the king to tarry till the wind
did turn about, and the weather more favourable. But the king,
persisting in his journey, commanded him to make all the speed he
night for his life; saying, that he never heard that any king yet was
ever drowned. And so passed the sea in safety, and came to Normandy.

The thirteenth year of his reign the said King William, having the
same time in his hand three bishoprics, Canterbury, Winchester, and
Sarum; also twelve abbeys in farm; as he was in his disport of
hunting in the New Forest, by glancing of an arrow (shot of a knight
named Walter Tirrel) was wounded to death, and so speechless was
carried to Westminster, and there was buried. Where also is to be
noted, that Richard, the cousin-german of King William, and son to
Duke Robert his brother, was likewise slain in the foresaid forest.
See the just hand of God upon kings usurping wrongfully upon other
men's grounds, as did William the Conqueror, their father, in making
this New Forest, plucking down divers churches and townships the
compass of thirty miles about. Here therefore appeareth, that
although men cannot revenge, yet God revengeth either in them, or in
their posterity, &c. This king, as he always used concubines, so left
he no issue legitimate behind him. His life was such, that it is hard
for a story, that should tell the truth, to say whether he was more
to be commended or reproved. Among other vices in him, especially is
to be rebuked in him unmeasurable and unreasonable covetousness;
insomuch that he coveted (if he might) to be every man's heir. This
one example of a liberal and princely nature I find in him; that upon
a time, when a certain abbot of a place was dead, there came to his
court two monks of the same house, who before had gathered much
money, and made their friends to the king, and offered large offers,
either of them to be promoted to that dignity. There was also the
third monk of the same place, which of meekness and humility followed
the other two, to the intent that upon him, whom the king had
admitted for abbot, he should give attendance, and as his chaplain
with him return. The king called before him the two monks severally,
of whom the one outproffered the other. As the king cast his eye
aside, he espied the third monk standing by, supposing that his
coming had been also for the like cause. Then the king, calling him,
asked what he would do, whether he would give more than his brethren
had offered to be abbot? He answered to the king, and said that he
neither had nor would (if he might) offer any penny for it, by any
such unlawful mean.

When the king had well pondered this third monk's answer, he said
that he was best worthy to he abbot, and to have the rule of so holy
a charge; and so gave unto him that benefice without taking any
penny.

Urban, bishop of Rome, who (as is said) succeeded after Victor, ruled
the Church of Rome about the space of twelve years; and amongst his
other acts he excommunicated the emperor Henry, the fourth of that
name, as a man not much devout to that see of Rome, But yet a worthy
and victorious prince he was; in whom, albeit some vice perchance
might be noted, yet none such wherefore any prelate or minister of
Christ ought to excite his subjects to rebel against public authority
of God appointed. This emperor Henry the Fourth was by four popes
severally excommunicate; first by Hildebrand, by Victor, Urban, and
Paschal. Which excommunication wrought so in the ignorant and blind
hearts of the people, that many (as well of the nobles as of the
multitude, contrary to their sworn allegiance) rebelliously conspired
against their king and emperor. In number of whom, amongst the rest,
was one certain earl named Ludovicus, to whom Waltram, bishop of the
church of Nurenburgh, (a godly and faithful man, as appeareth,) doth
write letters of fatherly admonition, exhorting and instructing him
in the office of obedience. Unto the which letters he likewise doth
answer again by cavilling sophistication, and by mere affection,
rather disposed to discord, than seeking sincerity of truth.

After the time of this King William, the name of kings ceased in the
country of Wales among the Britons, since King Ris, who in the reign
of this king, the year of our Lord 1093, was slain in Wales.



36. HENRY I.

Henry, the first of that name, the third son of William the
Conqueror, succeeding his brother Rufus, began his reign in England
the year of our Lord 1100; who, for his knowledge and science in the
seven liberal arts, was surnamed Clerk, or Beauclerk. In whom may
well appear how knowledge and learning doth greatly conduce to the
government and administration of any realm or country. At the
beginning he reformed the state and condition of the clergy, released
the grievous payments, reduced again King Edward's laws, with
emendation thereof; he reformed the old and untrue measures, and made
a measure after the length of his arm; he greatly abhorred excess of
meats and drinks; many things misused before his time he reformed,
and used to vanquish more by counsel than by sword. Such persons as
were nice and wanton he secluded from his court. This man (as
appeareth) little favoured the usurped power of the bishop of Rome.
Soon after he was king, he married Matild, or Maud, daughter of
Malcolme, king of Scots, and of Margaret his wife, daughter of Edward
the outlaw, as is before specified, being a professed nun in
Winchester; whom, not withstanding, (without the pope's
dispensation,) he married by the consent of Anselm; by the which Maud
he received two sons, William and Richard, and two daughters, Maud
and Mary, which Maud afterward was married to Henry, the fifth
emperor, &c.

In the second year of his reign, Robert his elder brother, duke of
Normandy, being occupied in the Christian wars against the Turks, and
being elect (as you heard) king of Jerusalem, hearing of the death of
Rufus, refused the kingdom thereof; for the which (as is thought) he
never sped well after. Thus the said Robert leaving off the Lord's
business, and returning into Normandy, made there his preparation,
and came over into England with a great host, to challenge the crown;
but by mediation of the lords, it was agreed upon that Robert should
have yearly during his life three thousand marks, as was likewise
promised him before by King Rufus his brother; and whether of them
overlived the other, to be the other's heir. And thus Robert departed
again into Normandy, to the great discontentation of his lords there.
But in few years after, the forenamed tribute of three thousand
marks, through the means of Queen Maud, was released to the king his
brother. In process of time, variance falling between King Henry and
the said Robert his brother; at length Robert in his war was taken
prisoner, and brought over into England, and was put into the castle
of Cardiff in Wales, where he continued as prisoner while be lived.
(Illustration: A Gateway )

In this time, as about the third year of this king, the hospital of
St. Bartholomew in Smithfield was founded, (by means of a minstrel
belonging unto the king, named Rajer,) and after it was finished by
Richard Whittington, alderman and mayor of London. This place, or
Smithfield, was at that day a lay-stall of all ordure or filth, and
the place where the felons and other transgressors of the king's laws
were put to execution.

Divers strict laws were by this king provided, especially against
thieves and felons, that whosoever
taken in that fault, no money should save them from hanging.

Item, that whoso did counterfeit false money, should have both his
eyes and nether parts of his body cut off.

Item, in the same council was decreed an order for priests to be
sequestered from their wives, which before were not forbidden.

Item, it was then decreed, that monks and priests should bear no rule
over lay persons.

Item, it was then decreed concerning broidering of hair, and wearing
of garments.

Item, that the secret contract between a young lad and a young maid
should not stand; with other things more concerning the
excommunication of sodomites, &c.

In the story of William Rufus before was declared how Anselm, the
archbishop of Canterbury, departing out of the realm, went unto the
pope; who, after the death of King William, was sent for again by the
foresaid King Henry, and so returned again, and was at the council of
the king at Westminster, where the king in the presence of the lords,
as well temporal as spiritual, ordained and invested two bishops,
Roger, bishop of Salisbury, and Roger, bishop of Hereford. During
which parliament or council of the king, Anselm in his convocation
deposed and displaced divers abbots and other prelates from their
rooms and dignities; either for that they lawfully came not by them.
or uprightly did not administer the same.

After this council, and the other before set forth by Anselm,
Herbert, bishop of Norwich, had much ado with the priests of his
diocess; for they would neither leave theft wives, nor yet give over
their benefices. Whereupon be wrote to Anselm, the archbishop, for
counsel, what was to be done therein. Which Anselm required him (as
he did others more the same time by writing) to persuade the people
of Northfolke and Suffolke. that as they professed Christianity. they
should subdue them as rebels against the church, and utterly drive
both them and their wives out of the country, placing monks in their
rooms, as by the epistles of the said Anselm doth appear. Whereof
certain parcels shall hereafter (by the grace of Christ) ensue, for
the better evidence of this and the other his acts above recited.

The like business also had Gerard, the archbishop of York, in
depriving the priests of his province from their wives; which thing
with all his excommunications and thunderings he could hardly bring
about. Upon this ruffling of Anselm with married priests were rhyming
verses made to help the matter withal, when reason could not serve.

About the end of the third year of this king, which was by
computation of our Lord 1103, a variance fell between King Henry and
Anselm, the occasion whereof was this. Ye heard a little before how
Henry the foresaid king had of his own authority invested two
bishops, one Roger, which was chancellor, bishop of Salisbury; and
another bishop of Hereford. Besides them divers also he invested, and
divers other like things took he upon him in the ecclesiastical
state, which he might lawfully do, God's word allowing well the same;
but because he was restrained by the bishop of Rome, and forbidden so
to do, this Anselm swelled, fretted, and waxed so mad, that he would
neither consent to it, neither yet confirm them, nor communicate nor
talk friendly with them, whom the king had instituted and invested;
but opprobriously called them abortives, or children of destruction;
disdainfully rebuking the gentle king as a defiler of religion and
polluter of their holy ceremonies; as witnesseth Polydorus. With this
uncomely outrage the king was much displeased, (as he might full
well,) and required Gerard, the archbishop of York, (as he owed him
allegiance,) to consecrate them; who without delay did so, well
performing the same; saving that one William Gifford, to whom the
king had given the bishopric of Winchester, refused to take his
consecration by the hands of the archbishop of York. For the which
cause the king (worthily with him offended) deprived him both of
bishopric and goods, and banished him the realm.

Moreover, the king required of Anselm, the archbishop of Canterbury,
to do unto him homage, after the manner of his ancestors. Also it was
asked of the said Anselm, whether that he would be with the king in
giving investitures, as Lanfranc his predecessor was with his father.
To whom Anselm said, that he promised not at any time that he would
enter into this order, to keep the law or custom of his father, as
Lanfranc did. Moreover, as concerning homage to be done to the king,
that he refused; alleging the censures of the pope's excommunication,
who, in his Council of Rome a little before, had given forth open
sentence of excommunication upon all such lay persons (whatsoever
they were) that should from henceforth confer or give any spiritual
promotions; also upon them that received them at their hands, either
yet should consecrate any such receivers. Moreover, he accursed all
them that for benefices or other ecclesiastical promotions should
subject themselves under the homage or service of any great man,
king, prinoe, duke, or earl of the laity. For it was unseemly, (said
the pope,) and a thing very execrable, that the hands which were
converted into so high a working, as was granted to no angel, (that
is, to create Him with their crosses which created all, and to offer
up the same before the sight of the Father for the salvation of the
whole world,) should be brought to such a slavery, as to be subject
to those filthy hands, which both day and night are polluted with
shameful touchings, robberies, and bloodshed, &o. This decree of Pope
Urban Anselm alleging for himself, denied to subject himself to the
king's homage, fearing (as he said) the pope's excommunication. Upon
this, messengers were sent to Rome on both parts unto the pope, (then
Paschalis,) who, stoutly standing to the steps and determinations of
Urban his predecessor, would in no case yield to the king's
investing.

In the mean time, while there was long disputation on both sides for
investing, the nobles of the realm contended, that investings did
belong to the king's dignity; wherefore the king, calling for Anselm
again, required him either to do homage to him, or else to void his
kingdom. To whom Anselm replying again, required the pope's letters
to be brought forth, and, according to the tenor thereof, so the
matter to be decided. For now the messengers were returned from Rome
with the pope's answer, altogether bearing with Anselm. Then said the
king, What have I to do with the pope's letters? I will not forego
the liberties of my kingdom for any pope. Thus the contention
continued between them. Anselm saith, he would not out of the realm,
but depart home to his church, and there see who would offer him any
violence; and so did. Not long after, message came from the king to
Anselm, requesting him, after a gentle sort, to repair to the king's
presence again, to set an end of the controversy begun; whereunto
Anselm granted and came. Then were new ambassadors sent again to the
pope, that he would something qualify and moderate (or rather
abolish) the straitness of the Roman decree before mentioned. On the
part of Anselm went two monks, Baldwin and Alexander. On the king's
behalf were sent two bishops, Robert, bishop of Lichfield, and
Herbert, bishop of Norwich, with the king's letters written unto the
pope.

The second letter of the king in sending about the pall was well
taken of all the court of Rome, which (as mine author saith) procured
such favour to Gerard, archbishop of York, and bringer thereof, that
no complaint of his adversaries afterwards could hurt him with the
pope. Notwithstanding he was accused grievously for divers things,
and specially for not standing to the consecration of Anselm,
archbishop of Canterbury.

Polydore in his eleventh book of his English history affirmeth, that
Anselm also went up to Rome with Gerard about the same cause. But
both the premises and sequel of the story argue that to be untrue,
for what need the two monks to be sent up on Anselm's side, if he had
gone up himself? Again, how could the pope write down by the said
messengers to Anselm, if he had there been himself present? For so
proceedeth the story by the narration of Malmesbury and others.
After the ambassadors (thus on both sides sent up to Rome) had
laboured their cause with instant suit, one against the other, the
pope, glad to gratify the king, (yet loth to grant his request, being
against his own profit, and therefore more inclining to Anselm's
side,) sendeth down his letters to the said Anselm, signifying that
he would not repeal the statutes of his holy fathers for one man's
pleasure; charging him, moreover, not only not to yield in the cause
of investing, but constantly to adhere to the foresaid decreement of
Pope Urban his predecessor, &c. Besides this letter to Anselm, he
directed also another to the king himself; which letter, mine author
saith, the king suppressed and did not show, only declaring by word
of mouth what the ambassadors had said unto him from the pope. Which
was, that he permitted unto him the licence of investing, upon
condition that in other things he would execute the office of a good
prince, &c. To this also the testimony of the two bishops above
minded did accord; which made the matter more probable. But the two
monks on the other side replied again, bringing forth the letter of
Anselm to the contrary, &c. To them was answered again, that more
credit was to be given to the degree and testimony of the bishops
than to theirs. And as for monks, they had no suffrage nor testimony
(said they) in secular matters, and therefore, they might hold their
peace. But this is no secular matter, said Baldwin, abbot of Ramsey.
Whereunto the nobles again of the king's part answered, saying that
he was a good man, and of such demeanour as they had nothing to say
against him, neither would if they might; but yet both human and
Divine reason taught them so, to yield more credit and confidence to
the testimony of three bishops than of two monks. Whereby may well
appear that Anselm at that time went not with them. Then Anselm,
seeing the king and his peers how they were set, and hearing also the
testimony of the three bishops, against whom he saw he could not
prevail; and also having the pope's seal, which he saw to be so
evident on the contrary side; made his answer again, that he would
send to Rome for a more certainty of truth. Adding moreover, that be
neither would nor durst give over his cause, though it should cost
him his life, to do or proceed against the determination of the
Church of Rome, unless be had a perfect warrant of absolution from
thence for his discharge. Then was it agreed by the king and his
nobles, that he should not send, but go himself to Rome. And much
entreaty was made, that he would take that journey in hand himself,
in his own person, to present himself to the pope for the peace of
the church and of his country. And so at length by persuasion he was
content, went to Rome, and spake with the pope. In short time after
followeth also the king's ambassador, (William Warlwast,) new elect
bishop of Exeter, who there pleading on the king's side for the
ancient customs of the realm, and for the king's right of investing,
&c., first declared how England of a long continuance had ever been a
province peculiar to the Church of Rome, and how it paid duly his
yearly tribute unto the same. Inferring moreover how the king, as he
was of nature very liberal, so also of courage a prince stout and
valiant. Then what a shame would he think it should be to him, (as it
were indeed,) if he, who in might and dignity far exceeded all his
progenitors, should not defend and maintain the liberties and customs
by them procured. Wherefore he desired the pope to see to the matter,
so as might stand both with the king's honour, and also with his own
profit and advantage; who otherwise no doubt should lose a great
piece of money out of the realm, unless he did remit some thing of
the severity of his canons and laws decretal.

With these and such other like persuasions to the same effect the
court of Rome was well contented, agreeing that the king's request
ought with all favour to be granted. But the pope and Anselm sat
still marking their doings. The ambassador, supposing their silence
to be half a yielding unto him, added moreover and said, that the
king, no not for the crown of his realm, would lose the authori ty of
investing or admitting his prelates within his dominion. Whereunto
the proud pope answering again burst out in these words; Nor I (said
he) for the price of this head (as thou sayest) will lose the giving
of spiritual promotions in England, and confirming it with an oath,
(Before God, saith he, I speak it,) know it for a certain, &c. Then
it followeth in the story of Malmesbury, With this word of the pope
the minds of the rest were changed. The king's attorney also was
therewith dashed, who notwith standing yet brought to pass, that
certain of the king's customs, used before of his father, were
released unto him. At the which time in the same court it was
decreed, that (the king only, which had invested them, being
excepted) the other, which were invested by the king, should be
excommunicated; the absolution and satisfaction of whom was left to
Anselm the archbishop.

Thus Anselm, being dismissed from Rome, took his journey toward
England. But the ambassador, pretending to go to St. Nicholas,
remained behind, to see whether he could win the pope's mind to the
king's purpose. Which when he saw it would not be, he overtaketh
Anselm by the way, at Placentia, and opened to him the kings
pleasure. The king (saith he) giveth to you in charge and
commandment, that if you will come to England, and there behave
yourself to him as your predecessors did to his father, you should be
received and retained in the realm accordingly; if not, you are wise
enough, (saith he,) ye know what I mean, and what will follow, &c.
And so with these words parting from him, he returned again to the
king.

In the mean while, great business there was, and much posting went to
and fro between the king, the archbishop, and the pope, but nothing
was done; for neither would the pope agree to the king, neither would
the king condescend to the archbishop. At last the archbishop, seeing
by no means he could prevail against the king, thought to revenge 
himself by excommunication, and so went about the same. The king,
having word thereof by the Countess Adela his sister, desireth her to
come to him into Normandy, and bring Anselm with her; whereupon
(through the means of the countess) reconcilement was made, and the
archbishop was restored to his former possessions again. Only his
return into England was deferred, because he would not communicate
with those whom the king had invested. So the king took his passage
over into England, and Anselm made his abode at the abbey of Becke.

Then were ambassadors again directed unto Rome, William Warlwast, and
Baldwin above named, abbot of Ramsey, who at length concluded the
long controversy between the king and the pope upon this agreement,
that the king should take homage of the bishops elect, but should not
deal with investing them by staff and ring, &c. While the ambassadors
were thus in their suit at Rome, divers complaints were daily brought
from England to Anselm against the priests and canons, who in his
absence, contrary to the late council holden at London, received
their wives unto their houses again, and so were permitted by the
king, paying him certain money for the same. Anselm, (the sore enemy
against lawful marriage,) grieved therewith, addresseth his letters
unto the king, requiring him to refrain from any more taking of such
exactions; declaring moreover and affirming, that the offences of all
such ecclesiastical ministers must be corrected by the instance of 
bishops, and not of laymen. To this the king answereth gently again
by letters, tempering himself; how he pur posed shortly to come over
into Normandy, and if he had done any thing amiss, either in these or
other things, he would reform it by his obedience.

It was not long after, (the messengers being now returned from Rome,)
but the king, as he had promised, sped him into Normandy, where he,
warring against his brother Robert, brought both him and the country
of Normandy at the last under his subjection. But first meeting with
Anselm at the abbey of Becke, he covenanted and agreed with him in
all such points as the archbishop required. As, first, that all his
churches which before were made tributary unto King William his
brother, now should remain free from all tribute. Item, that he
should require nothing of the said churches or provinces in the time
of the seat being vacant. Moreover, concerning such priests and
ministers as had given money to the king for their company with their
wives, it was agreed that they should surcease from all
ecclesiastical functions the space of three years, and that the king
should take no more after such manner. Item, that all such goods,
fruits, and possessions, as had been taken away before from the
archbishopric, should be restored at his coming again into England,
&c.

This Anselm, the stout champion of popery and superstition, after
this victory gotten upon the king, for the which he so long fought,
with joy and triumph saileth into England, having all his popish
requests obtained. Where first he flieth like a lion upon the married
priests, contrary to the word of God, divorcing and punishing that by
man's authority which the eternal and Almighty God had coupled. Next, 
he looketh to them which did hold any church by farm under the king.
Against simony likewise, and against them that married within the
seventh degree, he proceedeth with his full pontifical authority.

Shortly after, as King Henry had finished his war in Normandy, and
with victory returned again into England, about the sixth year of his
reign, Anselm, archbishop of Canterbury, (by the permission of the
king,) assembled a great council at Westminster in London of the
clergy and prelates of England.

In the which (by the bishop of Rome's authority) he so wrought with
the king, that at length (albeit, as the story saith, not without
great difficulty) it was newly confirmed and enacted, that no
temporal man after that day should make investiture with cross, or
with ring, or with pastoral book. In this council, sundry and divers
injunctions were given forth to priests and deacons, as divers other
synodal acts also by the same Anselm had been concluded in other
councils before. And because here falleth in mention of the acts
synodal concluded in the time of this Anselm, I thought here good to
pack them all in one general heap together, as we find them in
Malmesbury, and in other sundry authors scatteringly recited.

The first thing decreed by this Anselm in his synodal councils was
touching the fault of simony, whereby divers both bishops and abbots
(as is aforesaid) were at the same time deposed; and laymen forbidden
to confer any ecclesiastical promotion.

Also it was decreed, that no bishop should bear any office in secular
men's business or meetings. And that such should not go apparelled as
the laymen did, but should have their vestures decent and meet for
religious persons. And that in all places they should never go
without some to bear witness of their conversation.

Item, that no archdeaconries should be let out to farm.

Item, that no archdeacon should be under the degree of a deacon.

Item, that no archdeacon, priest, deacon, subdeacon, colligener, nor
canon, should from thence many a wife, nor yet keep her, if he had
been married to one before.

Item, that every subdeacon, being under the degree of a canon, (after
the profession of chastity marrying a wife,) should he subject to the
same rule.

They ordained also that a priest keeping company with his wife should
be reputed unlawful, and that he should say no mass; and if he said
mass, he should not be heard.

They charged that none should be admitted to orders from that time
forward, from the degree of a subdeacon, unless he did profess
chastity.

That priests' sons should not claim by heritage the benefices of
their fathers, as the custom had always been before.

Item, that no spiritual person should sit in any secular office, as
to be procurators or judges of blood.

Item, that priests should not resort to taverns or banquets, nor sit
drinking by the fire-side.

That the garments of priests should be of one colour, and that their
shoes should be decent.

Item, that monks, or any other of the clergy, (if they forsook their
order,) either should come again, or be excommunicated.

Item, that the men of the clergy should wear broad crowns.

Item, that no tithes should be given but to the church.

Item, that no churches or prebends should be bought.

That no new chapels should be made without consent of the bishop.

That no church should be hallowed before the necessary provision were
made for the priest and for the church to be maintained.

That abbots should set forth no men to war, and that they must both
sleep and eat in the same house with their monks, unless some great
necessity do let.

Item, that monks do enjoin no penance to any man without the
knowledge of his abbot. And that their abbots may give no licence
therein, but only for such persons whose charge they have of soul.

That no monks should be godfathers, nor nuns godmothers.

That monks should have no lordships to farm.

Item, that monks should take no churches but by the bishop; neither
should so spoil and oppress the churches given unto them with their
rents, that sufficient were not left for the ministers of the same.

That privy contracts between man and woman without witness should not
stand, but be frustrate, if each party do go from the contract.

Item, that such of the clergy as wear long hair be so rounded, that
part of their ear appear, and that their eyes be not covered.

Item, that there be no matrimonial connexion within the seventh
degree of kindred, nor to continue if they be married, but the
marriage to be broken. And if any, being privy to that incest, do not
detect the same, he to be guilty of the same crime.

Item, that no funeral or buryings be without their own parish church,
so that the priest thereof do lose that which to him is due.

Item, that no man upon any new-fangled rashness do attribute any
reverence or opinion of holiness to dead men's bodies, to fountains,
or to any other thing, (as the use hath been in times past,) without
authority of the bishop.

Item, that no buying and selling be used hereafter in England of men,
as of other cattle.

Item, after the restraint of priests' marriage, when filthy practices
began to come in the place thereof, then were they forced also to
make an act for that, which was this:

With a grievous curse we condemn both them that are guilty of
ungracious vices and sins, and them also that willingly assist them,
or be wicked doers with them in the same, till such time as they may
deserve absolution by penance and confession.

So that whatsoever he be that is noised or proved to be of this
wickedness, (if he be a religious person,) be shall from thenceforth
be promoted to no degree of honour, and that which he hath shall be
taken from him.

If he be a lay person, he shall be deprived of all his freedom within
the land, and be no better than a foreigner.

And because it shall be known the absolution of such as be secular to
belong only to bishops, it was therefore enacted, that on every
Sunday, in every parish church of England, the said excommunication
should be published, &c.

But mark in this great matter what followed. For, as Ranulphus
Cestrensis witnesseth, this grievous general curse was soon called
back again by the suit of certain, which persuaded Anselm that the
publication or opening of that vice gave kindlings to the same in the
hearts of lewd persons, ministering occasion of more boldness to them
to do the like. And so to stop the occasion of filthy uncleanness,
the publication thereof was taken away; but the forbidding and
restraint of priests' lawful marriage (which chiefly was the cause
thereof) remained still. And thus ever since horrible vices remained
in the clergy, both for lack of marriage more used, and for lack of
publication less punished.

Besides all these synodal acts above comprehended, and given out by
Anselm in his councils before, here also in this present council at
Westminster, in the year of this king aforesaid, he also directed
other new injunctions to the priests.

First, that they and their wives should never more meet in one house,
neither yet have dwelling in their territories.

Item, that the priests, deacons, and subdeacons should keep no woman
in their house, unless they were of their next kin.

Item, for such as had dissevered themselves from the society of their
wives, yet for some honest cause they had to commune with them, they
might, so it were without door, and with two or three lawful
witnesses.

Item, if any of them should be accused hy two or three witnesses, and
could not purge himself again by six able men of his own order, (if
he be a priest,) or, if he be a deacon, by four, or, if he be a
subdeacon, by two, then he should be judged a transgressor of the
statutes, deprived of his benefice, and be made infamous, or be put
to open reproach of all men.

Item, he that rebelled, and in contempt of this new statute held
still his wife, and presumed to say mass, upon the eighth day after
(if be made not due satisfaction) should be solemnly excommunicated.

Item, all archdeacons and deacons to be straitly sworn not to wink or
dissemble at their meetings, nor to bear with them for money. And if
they would not be sworn to this, then to lose their offices without
recovery.

Item, such priests as forsaking their wives were willing to serve
still and remain in their holy order, first must cease forty days
from their ministration, setting vicars for them in the mean time to
serve, and taking such penance upon them as by their bishop should be
enjoined them.

Thus have ye heard the tedious treatise of the life and doings of
Anselm, how superstitious in his religion, how stubborn against his
prince, he was, what occasion of war and discord he ministered by his
complaints, (if they had been taken,) what zeal without right
knowledge, what fervency without cause, he pretended, what pains
without profit he took. Who if he had bestowed that time and travail
in preaching Christ at home to his flock, which he took in gadding to
Rome to complain of his country, in my mind he had heen better
occupied. Moreover, what violent and tyrannical injunctions he set
forth of investing and other things ye have heard; but specially
against the lawful and godly marriage of priests. Wherein what a
vehement adversary he was here may appear with these minutes or
pieces extracted out of his letters, which we have here annexed, in
form and effect as followeth.

A letter of Anselm.

"Anselm, archbishop, to his brethren and dearest sons, the lord prior
and others at Canterbury.

"As concerning priests, of whom the king commanded that they should
have both their churches and their women as they had in the time of
his father, and of Lanfranc, archbishop; both because the king hath
revested and reseized the whole archbishopric, and because so cursed
a marriage was forbidden in a council in the time of his father and
of the said archbishop, boldly I command by the authority which I
have by my archbishopric, not only within my archbishopric, but also
throughout England, that all priests which keep women shall be
deprived of their churches and ecclesiastical benefices."

A letter of Pope Paschalis to Anseirn.

"Paschal, bishop, servant of God's servants, to his reverend brother
Anselm, archbishop of Canter bury, greeting and apostolical blessing.

"We believe your brotherhood is not ignorant what is decreed in the
Romish Church concerning priests' children. But because there is so
great multitude of such within the realm of England, that almost the
greater and better part of the clerks are reckoned to be on this
side; therefore we commit this dispensation to your care. For we
grant these to be promoted to holy offices by reason of the need at
this time, and for the profit of the church, (such as learning and
life shall commend among you,) so that yet notwithstanding the
prejudice of the ecclesiastical decree to be taken heed to hereafter"

Another letter of Anselm for investing.

"To the reverend lord and loving father Paschal, high bishop, Anselm,
servant of Canterbury church, due subjection and continual prayers.

"After that I returned to my bishopric in England, I showed the
apostolical decree; which I, being present, heard in the Romish
council. I. That no man should receive investing of churches at the
king's hand, or any lay person, or should become his man for it, and
that no man should presume to consecrate him that did offend herein.
When the king and his nobles, and the bishops themselves, and others
of the lower degree, heard these things, they took them so
grievously, that they said they would in no case agree to the thing,
and that they would drive me out of the kingdom, and forsake the
Romish Church, rather than keep this thing. Wherefore, reverend
father, I desire your counsel by your letter."

Another letter of Anselm.

"Anselm, archbishop, to the Reverend Gudulphus, bishop, and to
Arnulphus, prior, and to William, archdeacon of Canterbury, and to
all in his diocess, greeting.

"William our archdeacon hath written unto me, that some priests that
be under his custody (taking again their women that were forbidden)
have fallen unto the uncleanness from the which they were drawn by
wholesome counsel and commandment. When the archdeacon would amend
this thing, they utterly despised with wicked pride his warning and
worthy commandment to be received. Then he, calling together many
religious men and obedient priests, excommunicated worthily the proud
and disobedient, that beastly despised the curse, and were not afraid
to defile the holy ministry as much as lay in them."

Unto these letters above prefixed I have also adjoined another of the
said Anselm, touching a great ease of conscience, of a monk's
whipping of himself. Wherein may appear both the blind and lamentable
superstition of those religious men, and the judgment of this Anselm
in the same matter.

Another letter of Anselm.

"Anselm, archbishop, to Bernard, monk of the abbey of St. Warburg,
greeting and prayer.

"I heard it said of your lord abbot, that thou judgest it to be of
greater merit, when a monk either beateth himself, or desireth
himself to be beaten of another, than when he is beaten (not of his
own will) in the chapter by the commandment of the prelacy. But it is
not so as you think. For that judgment that any man commandeth to
himself is kingly. But that which he suffereth by obedience in the
chapter is monkish. The one is of his own will, the other is of
obedience, and not of his own will. That which I call kingly, kings
and rich proud men are willing to be done to themselves. But that
which I call monkish, they take, not commanding, but obeying. The
kingly is so much easier, by how much it agreeth to the will of the
sufferer. But the monkish is so much the more grievous, by how much
it differeth from the will of the sufferer. In the kingly judgment,
the sufferer is judged to be his own; in the monkish, be is proved
not to be his own. For although the king or rich man, when he is
beaten, willingly showeth himself humbly to be a sinner; yet he would
not submit himself to this humbleness at any other's commandment, but
would withstand the commander with all his strength. But when a monk
submitteth himself to the whip humbly in the chapter at the will of
the prelate, the truth judgeth him to be of so much greater merit, by
how much be humbleth himself more, and more truly, than the other.
For he humbleth himself to God only, because he knoweth his sins. But
this man humbleth himself to man for obedience. But he is lowlier
that humbleth himself both to God and man for God's cause, than he
which humbleth himself to God only, and not to God's commandment.
Therefore if he that humbleth himself shall be extolled; ergo, be
that more humbleth himself shall be more exalted. And where I said,
that when a monk is whipped, it differeth from his will; you must not
so understand it, as though he would not patiently bear it with an
obedient will, but because by a natural appetite be would not suffer
the sorrow. But if ye say, I do not so much, fly the open beating for
the pains (which I feel also secretly) as for the shame; know then
that he is stronger that rejoiceth to bear this for obedience sake.
Therefore be thou sure that one whipping of a monk by obedience is of
more merit than innumerable whippings taken by his own mind. But
whereas he is such, that always he ought to have his heart ready
without murmuring obediently to be whipped, we ought to judge him
then to be of a great merit, whether he be whipped privily or
openly," &c.

And thus much concerning Anselm, archbishop of Canterbury; whose
stout example gave no little courage to Thurstinus and Becket his
successors, and others that followed after, to do the like against
their kings and princes, as in process hereafter by the grace of
Christ shall appear.

About this time two famous archbishops of Mentz, being right virtuous
and well-disposed prelates, were cruelly and tyrannously dealt
withal, and treated by the bishop of Rome; their names were Henry and
Christian. This Henry, having intelligence that he was complained of
to the pope, sent a learned man (as special friend of his) to excuse
him, named Arnold, one for whom he had done much, and promoted to
great livings and promotions. But this honest man Arnold, in stead of
an excuser, became an accuser, bribing the two chiefest cardinals
with good gold; by which means he obtained of the pope those two
cardinals to be sent as inquisitors, and only doers in that present
ease. The which (coming to Germany) summoned the said Henry, and 
deposed him of his archbishopric, (for all he could do either by law
or justice,) substituting in his place the foresaid Arnold, upon hope
(truly) of the ecclesiastical gold. Whereupon that virtuous and
honourable Henry (as the story telleth) spake unto those his perverse
judges on this wise: If I should appeal unto the apostolic see for
this your unjust process had against me, perhaps the pope would
attempt nothing more therein than ye have, neither should I win any
thing by it, but only toil of body, loss of goods, affliction of
mind, care of heart, and missing of his favour.

Wherefore I do appeal unto the Lord Jesus Christ, as to the most high
and just Judge, and cite you before his judgment, there to answer me
before the high Judge. For neither justly nor godly (but by
corruption, as it pleaseth you) you have judged. Whereunto they
scoffingly answered, Go you first, and we will follow. Not long after
(as the story is) the said Henry died. Whereof the said two cardinals
having intelligence said one to the other jestingly, Behold, he is
gone before, and we must follow according to our promise. And verily
they said truer than they were aware of; for within a while they died
in one day. For the one, sitting upon a jakes to ease himself, voided
out all his entrails into the draught, and miserably ended his life.
The other, gnawing off the fingers of his hands, and spitting them
out of his mouth, (all deformed in devouring himself,) died. And in
like wise, not long after the end of these men, the foresaid Arnold
(most horribly) in a sedition was slain; and certain days (lying
stinking above the ground unburied) lay open to the spoil of every
rascal and harlot. The historiographer in declaring hereof crieth
upon the cardinals in this manner: O ye cardinals, ye are the
beginning and authors hereof. Come ye hither therefore, come ye
hither, and heap and carry unto your countries the devil, and offer
yourselves to him with that money, whereof ye have been most
gluttonous and insatiable.

About the same time and year when King Henry began his reign Pope
Paschalis entered his papacy, succeeding after Urbanus, about the
year of our Lord 1100, nothing swerving from the steps of Hildebrand
his superior. This Paschalis being elected by the cardinals, after
that the people had cried thrice, St. Peter hath chosen good
Rainerus, he then putting on a purple vesture, and a tire upon his
head, was brought upon a white palfrey into Lateran, where a sceptre
was given him, and a girdle put about him, having seven keys, with
seven seals hanging thereupon for a recognisance or token of his
sevenfold power, according to the sevenfold grace of the Holy Ghost,
of binding, loosing, shutting, opening, sealing, resigning, and
judging, &c. After this Paschalis was elected pope, Henry the Fourth,
the foresaid emperor, (of courage most valiant, if the time had
served thereto,) thought to come up to Italy, to salute the new pope.
But, understanding the pope's mind bent against him, he changed his
purpose. In the mean time, Paschalis, to show himself inferior to
Hildebrand in no point, began first to depose all such abbots and
bishops whom the emperor had set up. Also he banished Albertus,
Theodoricus, and Maginuiphus, striving at the same time for the
papacy. I spake before of Guibert, whom Henry the emperor had made
pope against Hildebrand. Against this Guibert Paschalis made out an
army; who, being put to flight, not long after departed.

About the same time, A.D. 1101, the bishop of Fluence began to teach
and to preach of antichrist then to be born and to be manifest, as
Sabellicus testifieth; whereupon Paschalis assembling a council put
to silence the said bishop, and condemned his books. In this council
at Trecas, priests that were married were condemned for Nicolaitans.
Item, according to the decree of Hildebrand, all such, of what degree
or estate soever they were, (being laymen,) that gave any
ecclesiastical dignities, were condemned of simony. Furthermore, the
statute of priests' tithes there he renewed, counting the selling
away thereof as a sin against the Holy Ghost. Concerning the
excommunication and other troubles that Hildebrand wrought against
Henricus, the fourth emperor, it is declared sufficiently before.
This excommunication Paschalis the pope renewed afresh against the
said Henry. And not only that, but also conventing the princes of
Germany unto a general assembly, set up his own son against him,
causing the bishop of Mentz, of Cullen, and of Wormes to deprive him
of his imperial crown, and to place his son Henrieus the Fifth in his
father's kingdom, and so they did. Coming to the place at Hilgeshem,
first they required his diadem, his purple, his ring, and other
ornaments pertaining to the crown, from him. The emperor demandeth
the cause, being then excommunicate and void of friends. They
pretending again (I can not tell what) for selling of bishoprics,
abbacies, and other ecclesiastical dignities for money; also alleging
the pope's pleasure, and of other princes. Then required he first of
the bishop of Mentz, (and likewise of the other two, whom he had
preferred to their bishoprics before,) asking them in order if he had
received of them any penny for his promoting them to their dignities.
This, when they could not deny to be so, Well, (saith he) and do you
requite me again with this? with divers other words of exhortation,
admonishing them to remember their oath and allegiance to their
prince. But the perjured prelates, neither reverencing his majesty,
nor moved with his benefits, nor regarding their fidelity, ceased not
for all this, but first plucked from him (sitting in his throne) his
crown imperial, then disrobed him, taking from him his purple and his
sceptre. The good emperor, being left desolate and in confusion,
saith to them, Let God see and judge. Thus leaving him, they went to
his son to confirm him in his kingdom, and caused him to drive his
father out. Who then being chased of his son, (having but nine
persons about him,) did fly by the dukedom of Limburgh, where the
duke, being then in hunting, perceiving and hearing of him, made
after to follow him. The emperor fearing no other but present death,
(for he had displaced the same duke before out of his dukedom,)
submitted himself, craving of him pardon, and not revengement. The
duke full of compassion, and pitying his estate, not only remitted
all his displeasure, but also received him to his castle. Moreover,
collecting his soldiers and men of war, he brought him to Cullen, and
there he was well received. His son hearing this besieged the city of
Cullen. But the father, by night escaping, came to Leodium, where
resorted to him all such as were men of compassion and of constant
heart. Insomuch that his power, being strong enough, he was now able
to pitch a field against his enemies, and so did; desiring his
friends, that if he had the victory, they would spare his son. In
fine, (the battle joined,) the father had the victory, the son was
put to flight, many being slain on both sides. But shortly after the
battle renewed again, the son prevailed, the father was overcome and
taken. Who then, being utterly dispossessed of his kingdom, was
brought to that exigent, that, coming to Spire, he was fain to crave
of the bishop there (whom he had done much for before) to have a
prebend in the church; and for that he had some skill of his book, he
desired to serve in our Lady's choir. Yet could he not obtain so much
at his hand, who swore by our Lady he should have none there. Thus
the woeful emperor (most unkindly bandied and repulsed on every side)
came to Leodium, and there for sorrow died, after he had reigned
fifty years; whose body Paschalis, after his funeral, caused to be
taken up again, and to be brought to Shires, where it remained five
years unburied.

After the decease of this emperor Henry the Fourth, his son, Henricus
the Fifth, reigned the space of twenty years. Who, coming to Rome to
be crowned of the pope, could not obtain it before he would fully
assent to have this ratified, that no emperor should have any thing
to do with the election of the Roman bishop, or with other
bishoprics. Besides that, (about the same time,) such a stir was made
in Rome by the said bishop, that if the emperor had not defended
himself with his own hands, he had been slain. But as it happened,
the emperor having the victory, amongst many other Romans, (which
were partly slain, partly taken in the same skirmish,) he taketh also
the pope, and leadeth him out of the city; where he intendeth with
him upon divers conditions, both of his coronation, and of recovering
again his right and title in the election of the pope, and of other
bishops; whereunto the pope assenting, agreed to all. So the emperor
(being crowned of Paschalis) returned again with the pope to Rome.

All the conditions between the emperor and the pope (so long as the
emperor remained at Rome) stood firm and ratified. But as soon as the
emperor was returned again to Germany, forthwith the pope, calling a
synod, not only revoked all that he had agreed to before, but also
excommunicated Henricus the emperor, as he had done his father
before, reproving the former privilegium for pravilegium. The
emperor, returning from Rome to France, there married Mathild,
daughter to King Henry. Who then bearing what the pope had done,
(grieved not a little,) with all expedition marched to Rome, and
putteth the pope to flight, and finally placeth another in his stead.
In the mean time, the bishops of Germany (the pope's good friends)
slept not their business, incensing the Saxons all that they might
against their Cæsar; inso much that a great commotion was stirred up,
and it grew at length to a pitched field; which was fought in the
month of February, by the wood called Sylva Catulaira, in the year of
our Lord one thousand one hundred and fifteen.

The emperor, seeing no end of these conflicts, (unless he would yield
to the pope,) was fain to give over, and forego his privilege,
falling to a composition not to meddle with matters pertaining to the
pope's election, nor with investing, nor such other things belonging
to the church and churchmen. And thus was the peace between them
concluded, and proclaimed to no small rejoicing of both the armies,
then lying by Wormes, near the river of Rhene.

In the time of this Paschalis lived Bernardus, called Abbas
Claravallensis, in the year 1108, of whom sprang the Bernardine
monks.

About what time the city of Worcester was consumed almost all with
fire, A.D. 1109.

All this while Henricus the emperor had no issue, (having to wife
Mathildis, the daughter of Henry the First, king of England,) and
that by the just judgment of God, as it may appear. For as he, having
a father, persecuted him by the pope's setting on, contrary to the
part of a natural son; so God's providence did not suffer him to be
the father of any child naturally to love him, or to succeed him.

After the death of Paschalis, A.D. 1118, succeeded Pope Gelasius,
chosen by the cardinals, but without the consent of the emperor,
whereupon rose no little variance in Rome. And at length another pope
was set up by the emperor called Gregorius the Eighth, and Gelasius
driven away into France, and there died. After whom came Calixtus the
Second, (chosen likewise by a few cardinals, without the voice of the
emperor,) who, coming up to Rome to enjoy his seat, first sent his
legate into Germany to excommunicate the emperor Henricus, who then
having divers conflicts with his fellow Pope Gregorius, at length
drave him out of Rome. At this time by this occasion great
disputation and controversy was between the emperor and the pope's
court, whether of them in dignity should excel the other.

In conclusion, the emperor being overcome so much with the vain
reasons of the pope's side, and fearing the dangerous thunderbolt of
his curse, (talking with princes, and persuaded by his friends,) was
fain to condescend to the unreasonable conditions of the pope. First,
to ratify his election, notwithstanding the other pope (whom the said
emperor had set up) yet was alive. Secondly, that he should resign up
his right and title in matters pertaining to the election of the
pope, and investiture of bishops.

This being done and granted, and the writings thereof set up in the
church of Lateran, for a tri umph of the emperor thus subdued, the
pope maketh out after Gregorius, his fellow pope, being then in a
town called Sutrium; which being besieged and taken, Gregorius also
was taken. Whom Calixtus the pope setting upon a camel (his face to
the camel's tail) brought him so through the streets of Rome, holding
the tail in his hand instead of a bridle; and afterward, being shorn,
he was thrust into a monastery.

Amongst many other acts done by this glorious pope, first he
established the decrees of the papal see against this emperor. He
brought in the four quarter fasts, called Ember days.

By the same Calixtus the order of monks, called Præmonstratenses,
were brought in.

Further, by him it was decreed to be judged for adultery, if any
person (by his lifetime) had put from him either bishopric or
benefice, grounding upon this scripture of St. Paul to the Romans:
"The wife is bound to the law of her husband, so long as the husband
liveth; after he is dead, she is loose from the law of her husband,"
&c.

Item, the same Calixtus, holding a general council at Rhemis, decreed
that priests, deacons, and subdeacons should put away their
concubines and wives; and whosoever was found to keep his wife,
should be deprived of benefice, and all other ecclesiastical livings.

And thus much of the Roman matters. Now to our country story again,
After the death of Anselm before mentioned, (who deceased the year of
Christ 1109, after he had been in the see sixteen years,) the church
of Canterbury stood void five years, and the goods of the church were
spent to the king's use. And when he was prayed to help the church,
that was so long without a pastor, his answer was, pretending that as
his father and brother had accustomed thereto to set the best tried
and approved men that might be found, so to the intent that he might
do the same, (in choosing such, which either should equal the former
examples of them before, or at least follow their footsteps as near
as they could,) he took therein the more time and leisure. And so
with shift of answer he delayed out the time, while he had filled his
coffers with the commodities of that benefice. The same year (after
the death of Anselm) the king converted the abbey of Ely to a
bishopric, which before was under the bishopric of Lincoln, placing
there Henry, bishop Bangor, the first bishop of that see. And as of
late years before this divers wonders were seen, as stars falling
from heaven so thick that they could not be numbered. at the setting
forth of the Christians to the Holy Land; a blazing star over
Constantinople; a spring boiling out blood (seen at Finchamsted in
Berkshire) three weeks together, A.D. 1090; after that, the firmament
appearing so red as it had been all on fire; also two full moons
appearing together, one in the east, the other in the west, (on
Maundy Thursday,) with a blazing star in the same year appearing
about the taking of Duke Robert, having a white circle enclosing it,
A.D. 1106; also with an eclipse of the sun darkened after that: so
likewise about this present year, A.D. 1110, was seen the flood of
Trent, about Nottingham, so dried up from morning to three of the
clock at afternoon, that men migbt go over it dryshod. Also in
Shrewsbury a great earthquake happened, and after that followed a
sharp winter, great murrain of beasts, and pestilence of men, as
Gualterus Gisburnensis recordeth. Moreover, the same author
mentioneth, that about the same year the like voiding of water also
happened in the flood of Medway; and in the Thames (between the
bridge and the tower, and under the bridge, from midnight to the next
evening) was so great an ebb, that an innumerable sort of people and
children waded over, scarce knee deep in the water, the sea
withdrawing his tide ten miles from his accustomed course. In the
which year also, as the said author and Jornalensis do testify, the
city of Worcester by casualty was consumed with fire; also the city
of Chester, A.D. 1114.

The next year following, Rodulphus, bishop of Rochester, (an
Englishman,) was promoted to be archbishop of Canterbury, and
Thurstinus, the king's chaplain, was elected archbishop of York. Who
being content to receive his benediction or consecration of the see
of Canterbury; yet, because he refused to make his profession of
obedience to the same see, he was by the king deprived of his
dignity.

Then Thurstin (by the instigation of certain his clerks at York) took
his journey to Rome; who, there making his complaint to Pope
Paschalis, brought with him a letter from the pope to the king,
where, among other words, was contained as followeth:

"We hear and understand, that the archbishop elect of the church of
York (a discreet and industrious man) is sequestered from the church
of York; which standeth against both Divine justice, and the
institution of holy fathers. Our purpose is, that neither the church
of Canterbury should be impaired, nor again that the church of York
should suffer any prejudice; but that the same constitution, which
was by blessed Gregory (the apostle of the English nation) set and
decreed between those two churches, should remain still in force and
effect unviolate. Wherefore, as touching the foresaid elect, let him
be received again by any means, as right and meet it is, unto his
church. And if there be any question between the foresaid churches,
let it be handled and decided in your presence, both the two parties
being there present."

Upon the occasion of this letter, a solemn assembly there was
appointed at Salisbury, about the hearing of this controversy. The
variance between these two prelates still increased more and more.
Rodulph, archbishop of Canterbury, in no case would yield or
condescend to give imposition of hands unto him, unless he would make
his profession of obedience. Thurstin again said, he would willingly
receive and embrace his benediction; but as touching the profession
of his subjection, that he would not agree unto. Then the king,
declaring his mind therein, signified unto Thurstin, that, without
his subjection and obedience professed to the archbishop of
Canterbury, he should not enjoy his consecration to be archbishop of
York. Whereunto Thurstin, nothing replying again, renounced his
archbishopric, promising, moreover, to make no more claim unto it,
nor to molest them that should enjoy it.

Shortly after this, it happened that Pope Paschalis died; after whom,
as is above rehearsed, succeeded Pope Gelasius, who lived not past a
year, and died in France. Whereupon the cardinals (which then
followed the said Pope Gelasius unto Cluniake) created another pope
of their choosing, whom they called Calixtus the Second. The other
cardinals which were at Rome did choose another pope, called Gregory,
as mention before is made; about which two popes much stir there was
in Christian realms. As this Calixtus was remaining in France, and
there calling a general council at Rheims, as ye heard before,
Thurstin, the archbishop of York, desired licence of the king to go
to the council, purposing there to open the cause of his church,
which eftsoons he obtained; first promising to the king that he
should there attempt nothing that should be prejudicial to the church
of Canterbury. In the mean time, the king had sent secret word unto
the pope, by Rodulph and other procurators, that in no case he would
consecrate Thurstin. Yet, notwithstanding the faithful promise of the
pope made to the king, so it fell out, that the said pope, through
the suit of his cardinals, whom Thurstinus had won to him, was
inclined to consecrate him, and gave him the pall. For this deed the
king was sore discontented with Thurstin, and warned him the entry of
his land.

In this council at Rheims, (above mentioned,) where were gathered
four hundred and thirty-four prelates, these five principal acts were
concluded.

1. That no man should either buy or sell any bishopric, abbotship,
deanery, archdeaconship, priesthood, prebendship, altar, or any
ecclesiastical promotion, or benefice, orders, consecration, church
hallowing, seat or stall within the choir, or any office
ecclesiastical, under danger of excommunication, if he did persist.

2. That no lay person should give investiture, or any ecclesiastical
possession; and that no spiritual man should receive any such at any
layman's hand, under pain of deprivation.

3. That no man should invade, take away, or detain the goods or
possessions of the church; but that they should remain firm and
perpetual, under pain of perpetual curse.

4. That no bishop or priest should leave any ecclesiastical dignity
or benefice to any by way of inheritance. Adding moreover, that for
baptism, chrism, anointing, or burial, no money should be exacted.

5. Item, that all priests, deacons, and subdeacons should be utterly
debarred and sequestered from company of their wives and concubines,
under pain of excluding from all Christian communion.

The acts thus determined were sent eftsoons to Henricus the emperor,
to see and try, before the breaking up of the council, whether he
would agree to the canonical elections, free consecration, and
investing of spiritual persons, and to other acts of the said
council. The emperor maketh answer again, that he would lose nothing
of that ancient custom which his progenitors had given him.
Notwithstanding, because of the authority of the general council, he
was content to consent to the residue, save only the investing of
ecclesiastical function to be taken from him, to that he would never
agree. Upon this, at the next return of the pope to the council, the
emperor was appointed to be excommunicated. Which thing, when divers
of the council did not well like, and therefore did separate
themselves from the rest; the pope applying against them the
multitude of the seventy disciples, which were offended at the Lord,
when he taught them of eating of his flesh and blood, and therefore
divided themselves from him, declaring moreover to them, how they
which gathered not with him scattered, and they that were not with
him were against him; by these and such-like persuasions reduced them
again to his side; and so by that council Henricus the emperor was
excommunicated.

It was not long after but the pope came to Gisortium, where Henry
king of England resorted to him, desiring and also obtaining of him,
that he would send henceforth no legate, nor permit any to be sent
from Rome to England, unless the king himself should so require, by
reason of some occasion of strife, which else could not be otherwise
decided by his own bishops at home. The cause why the king required
this of the pope was, for that certain Roman legates had heen in
England a little before, to wit, one Guido, and another Roman named
Anselmus, and another also called Petrus, who had spoiled the realm
of great treasure, as the accustomed manner of the proud pope's
legates is wont to be. Also he required of the pope, that he might
use and retain all the customs used before of his forefathers in
England and in Normandy.

To these petitions the pope did easily consent, requiring again of
the king, that he would license Thurstiaus, the archbishop above
minded, to return with favour into his realm. But that the king
utterly denied, unless he would profess subjection to the church of
Canterbury, as his predecessors had done before; and excused himself
by his oath which he before had made. To this the pope answered
again, that be, by his authority apostolical, both might and would
also easily dispense with him for his promise or oath. Then the king
said that he would talk with his council thereof, and so send him an
answer of his mind. Which answer was this, that for the love and
request of the pope, he was content that Tburstinus should re-enter
his realm, and quietly enjoy his prelateship, upon this condition,
that he would (as his predecessors did) profess his subjection to the
church of Canterbury. Otherwise, (said he,) so long as he was king,
he should never sit archbishop of the church of York. And thus ended
that meeting between the king of! England and the pope for that time.

The year following after that, which was A.D. 1120, the foresald Pope
Calixtus directeth his letters for Thurstin to the king, and to
Rodulph, archbishop of Canterbury. In which epistle, by his full
power apostolical, he doth interdict both the church of Canterbury
and the church of York, with all the parish churches within the same
cities, from all Divine service, from the burial also of the dead,
except only baptizing of children, and absolution of them that lie
dying; unless, within a month after the receipt of the same, Thurstin
(without any exaction of subjection made) were received and admitted
to the see of York, and that the king likewise should doubtless be
excommunicated, except he would consent unto the same. Whereupon
Thurstin, for fear of the pope's curse, was immediately sent for and
reconciled to the king, and was placed quietly in his archiepiscopal
see of York.

It followed not long after (within two years) Rodulph, archbishop of
Canterbury, departed, in whose see succeeded after him Gulielmus de
Turbine. About which time (in the seven and twentieth year of the
king's reign) the grey friars, by procuring of the king, came first
into England, and had their house first at Canterbury. About the same
season, or a little before, the king called a council at London,
where the spirituality of England (not knowing to what purpose it was
required) condescended to the king to have the punishment of married
priests; by reason of which grant (where of the spirituality
afterwards much repented) the priests, paying a certain sum to the
king, were suffered to retain their wives still, whereby the king
gathered no small sum of money. At this time began first the
foundation of the monastery called Gisburne in Cleveland.

lt was above touched, how Matild, or Maud, daughter to King Henry,
was married to Henry the Fifth, emperor; who, after the decease of
the said emperor her husband, returned about this present time with
the imperial crown to her father in Normandy, bringing with her the
hand of St. James. For the joy whereof the king builded the abbey of
Reading, where the said hand was reposed. This Matild was received by
the said council to be next heir to the king her father in possession
of the English crown, for lack of issue male. And soon after upon the
same she was sent over to Normandy, to marry with Geoffrey
Plantagenet, earl of Anjou, of whom came Henry the Second, who (after
Stephen) was King of England. And about this time also was founded
the priory of Norton, in the province of Chester, by one William the
son of Nichelle. In the story of Polychronicon, Jornalensis, and
Polydore it is declared, how the king was troubled greatly with three
sundry visions appearing unto him by night. The first was of a great
multitude of husbandmen of the country, which appeared to fly upon
him with their mattocks and instruments, requiring of him his debt
which he did owe unto them. In the second, he saw a great number of
soldiers and harnessed men to come fiercely upon him. In the third,
he saw a company of prelates and churchmen, threatening him with
their bishops' staves, and fiercely approaching upon him. Whereupon
(being dismayed) in all haste he ran and took his sword to defend
himself, finding there none to strike; who afterward, asking counsel
concerning these visions, was monished by one of his physicians,
(named Grimbald,) by repentance, alms, and amendment of life to make
some atonement to God, and to his country whom he offended. Which
three vows thus being made, the next year after he went to England,
where he, being upon the seas in a great tempest with his daughter
Matild, remembered there his three vows. And so, coming to the land,
(for performance of the same,) first released unto the commons the
Danegelt which his father and his brother before had renewed.
Secondly, he went to St. Edmundsbury, where he showed great benefits
to the churchmen. Thirdly, be procured.justice to be administered
more rightly throughout his realm, &c. Also he ordained and erected a
new bishopric, at Carlisle.

In the three and thirtieth year of the king's reign, (as witnesseth a
certain author,) a great part of the city of London, with the church
of St. Paul, was burned with fire in Whitsun-week.

After Calixtus, (whose story and time is before discoursed,)
succeeded Pope Honorius the Second; notwithstanding that the
cardinals had elected another, yet he by the means of certain
citizens obtained the papacy, A.D. 1125. About the second year of his
induction (as is to be read in Mat. Paris.) there was a certain
legate of his, called Johannes Cremensis, sent down to England from
the pope, for the redress I cannot well tell whereof. But indeed the
chiefest purpose of his coming, as of all others after him in those
days, was to fill their pouches with English money, as may further
appear by their proceedings. This legate coming then with the pope's
letters, directed both into England and into Scotland, after he had
well refreshed himself in bishops' houses, and amongst the abbots, at
length resorted to London, where he assembled the whole clergy
together, inquired of priests' concubines, otherwise called their
wives, and made thereupon a statute in the said synod of London,
after this tenor: "To priests, deacons, subdeacons, and canons, we do
utterly inhibit, by authority apostolical, all manner society and
conversation with all kind of women, except only their mother,
sister, or aunt, or such whereof can rise no suspicion. And whosoever
shall be found to violate this decree, being convict thereof, shall
sustain thereby the loss of all that he hath by his order. Moreover,
amongst kindred, or such as be joined in affinity, we forbid
matrimony unto the seventh generation." But see how God worketh
against such ungodly proceedings. The next night after it happened
the same cardinal (ruffling and revelling with his concubines) to be
apprehended in the same vice, whereof he had so strictly given out
precepts the next day before, to the no little slander and shame, as
Matthew Paris doth write, of the whole clergy.

Unto this time lived Henricus the Fifth, emperor, after he had
reigned twenty years, dying without issue, as is before mentioned.
Next after Henricus the imperial crown came unto Lotharius, duke of
Saxon, in the year one thousand one hundred twenty and seven.

Certain histories make mention of one Arnulphus, in the time of this
Pope Honorius the Second. Some say he was archbishop of Lugdune, as
Hugo, Platina, Sabellicus. Tritemius saith he was a priest, whose
history, as it is set forth in Tritemius, I will briefly in English
express. About this time, saith he, in the days of Honorius the
Second, one Arnulphus, priest, a man zealous and of great devotion,
and a worthy preacher, came to Rome; which Arnulphus in his preaching
rebuked the dissolute and lascivious looseness, incontinency,
avarice, and immoderate pride of the clergy, provoking all to follow
Christ and his apostles in their poverty rather, and in pureness of
life. By reason whereof this man was well accepted, and highly liked
of the nobility of Rome for a true disciple of Christ; but of the
cardinals and the clergy he was no less hated than favoured of the
other. Inso much that privily in the night season they took him and
destroyed him. This his martyrdom, saith he, was revealed to him
before from God by an angel, he being in the desert, when he was sent
forth to preach; whereupon he said unto them publicly with these
words: I know (saith he) ye seek my life, and know you will make me
away privily; but why? Because I preach to you the truth, and blame
your pride, stoutness, avarice, incontinency, with your unmeasurable
greediness in getting and heaping up of riches, therefore you be
displeased with me. I take here heaven and earth to witness, that I
have preached unto you that which I was commanded of the Lord. But
you contemn me and your Creator, who by his only Son hath redeemed
you. And no marvel if you seek my death, being a sinful person,
preaching unto you the truth, whenas if St. Peter were here this day
and rebuked your vices, which do so multiply above all measure, you
would not spare him neither. And as he was expressing this, with a
loud voice he said moreover, For my part, I am not afraid to suffer
death for the truth's sake; but this I say unto you, that God will
look upon your iniquities, and will be revenged. You, being full of
all impurity, play the blind guides to the people committed unto you,
leading them the way to hell: a God he is of vengeance. Thus the
hatred of the clergy being incensed against him for preaching truth,
they conspired against him, and so, laying privy wait for him, took
him and drowned him, Sabellieus and Platina say they hanged him.

In the second time of the General Councils imprinted at Cullen, is
mentioned a certain book called Opus Tripartitum, written, as the
author supposeth, about four hundred years ago, either of this
Arnulphus, or just about the same time. In this book the writer
complaineth of many enormities and abuses in the church. First, of
the number of holy-days, declaring what occasions of vice grew
thereby, according unto the common saying of courtezans and naughty
women, which say they profit more in one holy-day than in fifty other
days besides.

Item, he complaineth of the curious singing in cathedral churches,
whereby many be occasioned to bestow much good time, yea, many years
about the same, which otherwise they might give to the learning of
better sciences.

Likewise he complaineth of the rabble and the multitude of begging
friars, and religious men and professed women, showing what great
occasion of idle and uncomely life cometh thereof.

Also of the inconsiderate promotion of evil prelates, and of their
great negligence in correcting and reforming the evil demeanour of
the people.

Item, of the great wantonness and lasciviousness in their servants
and families, concerning their excessive wearing of apparel.

Item, he complaineth also of the outrageous and excessive gains that
prelates and other under them take for their seal, especially of
officials, scribes, and such like; which give out the seal they care
not how, nor wherefore, so they may gain money.

He complaineth, in like manner, that prelates be so slack and
negligent in looking to the residents in their benefices.

Further, he lamenteth the rash giving of benefices to parsons,
viears, and curates, not for any godliness or learning in them, but
for favour, or friendship, or intercession, or else for hope of some
gain, whereof springeth this great ignorance in the church.

After this, he noteth in prelates, how they waste and expend the
goods of the church in superfluities, or upon their kinsfolks, or
other worse ways, which should rather be spent on the poor.

Next, in the tenth chapter he complaineth, for that, through the
negligence of men of the church, (especially of the Church of Rome,)
the books and monuments of the old councils, and also of the new, are
not to be found; which should be reserved and kept in all cathedral
churches.

Item, that many prelates be so cold in doing their duties. Also he
reproacheth the unchaste and voluptuous demeanour of ecclesiastical
persons by the example of storks, whose nature is, (saith he,) that
if any of their company, leaving his own mate, joineth with any
other, all the rest lieth upon him, whether it be he or she, beate
and plucketh his feathers off: what then, said he, ought good
prelates to do to such a person of their company, whose ifithiness
and corrupt life both defileth so many, and stinketh in the whole
church?

Again, forsomuch as we read in the book of Esdras, that he, purging
Israel of strange women, began first with the priests; so now
likewise in the purging aad correcting of all sorts of men, first the
purgation ought to begin with these, according as it is written by
the prophet Ezekiel; "Begin first with the sanctuary."

Moreover, how that in the time of Philip, king of France, the whole
realm was interdicted, for that the king had but one woman instead of
his wife, which was not his wife by law. And again, seeing in these
our days the king of Portugal hath been sequestered from his
dominion, by the authority of the church, being thought not
sufficient to govern: what then ought to be said to that prelate who
abuseth other men's wives, virgins, and nuns, which also is found
unable and insufficient to take upon him the charge of souls?

About the year of our Lord 1128, the orders of the knights of Rhodes,
or of St. John, also the order of Templars, rose up.

After Honorius, next in the same usurpation succeeded Pope
Innocentius the Second, A.D. 1130. But as it was with his
predecessors before him, that at every mutation of new popes came new
perturbations, and commonly never a pope was elected but some other
was set up against him (sometimes two, sometimes three popes
together); so likewise it happened with this Innocentius; for after
he was chosen, the Romans elected another pope, named Anacletus.
Betwixt these two popes there was much ado, and great conflicts,
through the partaking of Rogerius, duke of Sicile, taking Anacletus's
part against Innocentius, until Lotharius the emperor came; who,
rescuing Innocentius, drove Rogerius out of Italy. Our stories
record, that King Henry was one of the great helps in setting up and
maintaining this Pope Innocentius against Anaeletus.

Amongst many other things, this pope decreed that whosoever did
strike a priest or clerk, being shaven, he should be execommunicated,
and not be absolved, but only of the pope himself.



37. KING STEPHEN

About the time of doing these things, being the year of our Lord
1135, King Henry being in Normandy, as some say, by taking there a
fall from his horse, as others say, by taking a surfeit in eating
lampreys, fell sick and died, after he had reigned over the realm of
England five and thirty years and odd months; leaving for his heirs
Matilda the empress his daughter, with her young son Henry, to
succeed after him; to whom all the prelates and nobility of the realm
were sworn. But, contrary to their oath made to Maud in the presence
of her father before, William, the archbishop of Canterbury, and the
nobles of the realm, crowned Stephen, earl of Bologne, and sister's
son to King Henry, upon St. Stephen's day in Christmas week; which
archbishop the next year after died, being, as it was thought, justly
punished for his perjury. And many other lords, which did
accordingly, went not quit without punishment. In the like justice of
punishment is numbered also Roger, bishop of Salis bury; who,
contrary unto his oath, being a great doer in the coronation of
Stephen, was apprehended of the same king, and miserably, but justly,
exter mined.

A certain written English story I have, which addeth more, and saith,
that King Stephen, having many foes in divers quarters keeping their
holds and castles against him, went then to Oxford, and took the
bishop of Salisbury, and put a rope about his neck, and so led him to
the castle of Vies, that was his, and commanded them to render up the
castle, or he would slay and hang their bishop. Which castle being
given up, the king took the spoil thereof. The like also he did unto
the bishop of Lincoln, named Alexander; whom in like manner He led in
a rope to a castle of the bishop's, that was upon Trent, and had them
deliver up the castle, or else he would hang their lord before the
gate. Long it was before the castle was given Up; yet at length the
king obtaining it, there entered and took all the treasure of the
bishop, &c. Roger Hoveden and Fabian alleging a certain old author,
whom I cannot find, referreth a great cause of this perjury unto one
Hugh Bigot, steward sometime with King Henry. Who, immediately after
the death of the said Henry, came into England, and before the said
archbishop, and other lords of the land, took wilfully an oath, and
swore that he was present a little before the king's death, when King
Henry admitted for his heir (to be king after him) Stephen his
nephew, forsomuch as Maud his daughter had discontented him.
Whereunto the archbishop, with the other lords, gave too hasty
credence. But this Hugh, saith he, scaped not unpunished, for he died
miserably in a short time after. Albeit all this may be supposed
rather to be wrought not without the practice of Henry, bishop of 
Winchester, and other prelates by his setting on, which Henry was
brother unto King Stephen, &c.

THUS, when King Stephen contrary unto his oath made before to Maud,
the empress, had taken upon him the crown, (as is above said,) he
swore before the lords at Oxford, that he would not hold the
benefices that were voided, and that he would remit the Danegelt,
with many other things, which after he little performed. Moreover,
because he dreaded the coming of the empress, he gave licence to his 
lords, every one to build upon his own ground strong castles or
fortresses, as they liked. All the time of his reign he was vexed
with wars, but especially with David, king of the Scots, with whom he
was at length accorded; but yet the Scottish king did him no homage,
because he was sworn to Maud, the empress. Notwithstanding, yet
Henry, the eldest son to King David, did homage to King Stephen. But
he, after repenting thereof, entered into Northumberland with a great
host, and burnt and slew the people in most cruel wise, neither
sparing man, woman, nor child. Such as were with child they ripped,
the children they tossed upon their spears' points, and laying the
priests upon the altars, they mangled and cut them all to pieces,
after a most terrible manner. But by the manhood of the English lords
and soldiers, and through the means of Thurstin, archbishop of York,
they were met withal, and slain a great number of them, and David
their king constrained to give Henry his son hostage for surety of
peace. In the mean time, King Stephen was occupied in the south
countries, besieging divers castles of divers bishops and other
lords, and took them by force, and fortified them with his knights
and servants, to the intent to withstand the empress, whose coming he
ever feared.

About the sixth year of his reign, Maud, the empress, came into
England out of Normandy, and by the aid of Robert, earl of
Gloucester, and Ranuiph of Chester, made strong war upon King
Stephen. In the end whereof the king's party was chased, and himself
taken prisoner, and sent to Bristow, there to be kept in sure hold.
The same day when King Stephen should join his battle, it is said in
a certain old chronicle before minded, that he being at the mass,
(which then the bishop of Lincoln said before the king,) as he went
to offer up his taper, it brake in two pieces. And when the mass was
done, (or what time the king should have been houseled,) the rope,
whereby the pix did hang, did break, and the pix fell down upon the
altar.[Note: The word "housel" is employed to denote the giving or
receiving the eucharist. It is derived from "host," the consecrated
wafer, which again is derived from the Latin hostia, a sacrifice.]

After this field, the queen, King Stephen's wife, (lying then in
Kent,) made great labour to the empress and her council to have the
king delivered and put into some house of religion, but could not
obtain it. Also the Londoners made great suit to the said empress to
have and to use again St. Edward's laws, and not the laws of her
father, which were more strict and strange unto them than the other.
Which, when they could not obtain of her and her council, the
citizens of London, being therewith discontented, would have taken
the empress; but she, having knowledge thereof, fled privily from
London to Oxford. But then the Kentish men and Londoners, taking the
king's part, joined battle against the empress; where the foresaid
Robert. earl of Gloucester, and base brother to the empress, was
taken, and so by exchange both the king and the Earl Robert were
delivered out of prison. Then Stephen, without delay, gathering to
him a strong army, straitly pursued the foresaid Matild, or Maud,
with her friends, besieging them in the castle of Oxford. In the
siege whereof fell a great snow and frost so hard, that a man well
laden might pass over the water; upon the occasion whereof the
empress, bethinking herself, appointed with her friends and retinue
clothed in white sheets and so issuing out by a postern gate, went
upon the ice over Thames, and so escaped to Walingford. After this.
the king, (the castle being gotten.) when he found not the empress,
was much displeased, and molested the country about divers ways. In
conclusion, he pursued the empress and her company so hard, that he
caused them to fly the realm, which was the sixth year of his reign.

The second year after this. which was the eighth year of his reign,
there was a parliament kept at London, unto the which all the bishops
of the realm resorted, and there denounced the king accursed, and all
them with him that did any hurt to the church, or to any minister
thereof. Where upon the king began somewhat to amend his conditions
for a certain space; but afterward (as my story saith) was as ill as
he was before; but what the causes were my author maketh no relation
thereof, &c. To return again to the story, the empress, compelled, as
is said, to flee the realm, returned again into Normandy to Geoffrey
Plantagenet, her husband. Who, after he had valiantly won and
defended the duchy of Normandy against the puissance of King Stephen
a long time, ended his life, leaving Henry his son to succeed him in
that dukedom. In the mean while Robert, earl of Gloucester, and the
earl of Chester, who were strong of people, had divers conflicts with
the king, insomuch that at a battle at Wilton between them the king
was well near taken, but yet escaped with much pain.

It was not long after, but Eustace, son to King Stephen, who had
married the French king's sister, made war on Duke Henry, of
Normandy, but prevailed not. Soon after, the said Henry, duke of
Normandy, (in the quarrel of his mother Maud,) with a great puissance
entered into England, and at the first won the castle of Malmesbury,
then the tower of London, and afterward the town of Nottingham, with
other holds and castles, as of Walingford and other more. Thus
between him and the king were fought many battles, to the great
annoyance of the realm. During which time Eustace the king's son
departeth. Upon the occasion whereof the king caused Theobald, (which
succeeded next after William above mentioned,) archbishop of
Canterbury, to make means to the duke for peace, which upon this
condition between them was concluded, that Stephen, during his
lifetime, should hold the kingdom, and Henry in the mean time to be
proclaimed heir apparent in the chief cities throughout the realm.
These things thus concluded, Duke Henry taketh his journey into
Normandy, (King Stephen and his son William, bringing him on his
way,) where William the king's son, taking up his horse before his
father, had a fall, and brake his leg, and so was had to Canterbury.
The same year King Stephen about October (as some say for sorrow)
ended his life, after he had reigned nineteen years perjuredly.

As Theobald succeeded after William, archbishop of Canterbury, so in
York, after Thurstin, succeeded William, which was called St. William
of York, who was poisoned in his chalice by his chaplains.

In the time of this king, and about the sixteenth year of his reign,
Theobald, archbishop of Canterbury, and legate to the pope, did hold
a council at London. In the which council first began new found
appeals from councils to the pope, found out by Henry, bishop of
Winchester. For, as the words of an historian do record,
"Appellations before were not in use in England, till Henry, bishop
of Winchester, being then the pope's legate, brought them cruelly in,
to his own hurt. For in that council thrice appeal was made to the
bishop of Rome."

In the time of King Stephen died Gratian, a monk of Bonony, who
compiled the book called The Pope's Decrees. Also his brother, Peter
Lombard, bishop of Paris, which is called the Master of Sentences,
compiled his four books of the Sentences. These two brethren were the
greatest doers in finding out and establishing this blind opinion of
the sacrament, that the only similitude of bread and wine remained,
but not the substance of them; and this they call the spiritual
understanding of the mystery. And therefore no marvels if the sun in
those days were seen black and dim.

Some also affirm, that Petrus Comestor, writer of the scholastical
history, was the third brother to these above named.

In the same time and reign of the said King Stephen was also Hugo,
surnamed De Sancto Victore. About the which time (as Polychronicon
reciteth) lived and died Bernardus Clarevallensis.

The author of the history called Jornalensis maketh also mention of
Hildegare, the nun and prophetess in Almany, to have lived in the
same age. Concerning whose prophecy against the friars, here after
(by the grace of Christ) more shall be said, when we come to recite
the order and number of friars and religious men crept into the
church of Christ.

We read moreover of one named Johannes de Temporibus, which by the
affirmance of some of our old histories lived three hundred and
sixty-one years, (servant once to Carolus Magnus,) and in the reign
of Stephen, king of England, died.

In the days also of this king, and by him, was builded the abbey of
Feversham, where his son and he were buried. He builded the monastery
of Finerneis and of Fomitance, the castle of Walingford, with a
number of other castles more.

During the time of the said King Stephen, in the year of our Lord
1144, the miserable Jews crucified a child in the city of Norwich.

Much about the same time came up the order of the Gilbertines, by one
Gilbert, son to Jacoline, a knight of Lincolnshire.

Mention hath been made before of certain English councils holden in
the time of this king, where it was (in one of them under Theobald,
the archbishop of Canterbury) decreed that bishops should live more
discreetly; should teach their flock more diligently; that reading of
Scriptures should be frequented more usually in abbeys; that priests
should not be rulers of worldly matters; and that they should learn
and teach the Lord's Prayer and Creed in English.

Matthew Paris writeth, how Stephen, king of England, in these days
reserved to himself the right and authority of bestowing spiritual
livings, and in vesting prelates, in the year 1133.

At which time also Lotharius the emperor began to do the like, in
recovering again the right and privilege taken away from Henricus his
predecessor, had not Bernard given him contrary counsel.

Here came into the church the manner of cursing with book, bell, and
candle, devised in the Council of London, holden by William, bishop
of Winchester, under Celestinus, which succeeded after Innocentius,
A.D. 1144.

Also Lotharius succeeded in the imperial crown Conradus, the nephew
of Henricus the Fifth, aforementioned, A.D. 1138, who only amongst
many emperors is not found to receive the crown at the pope's hand.

In the days of this emperor, who reigned fifteen years, were divers
popes, as Celestinus the Second, Luscius the Second, Eugenius the
Third, at which time the Romans went about to recover their former
old manner of choosing their consuls and senators. But the popes,
then being in their ruff, in no case would abide it; whereupon arose
many commotions, with much civil war amongst them. Insomuch that Pope
Lucius (sending for aid to the emperor, who othervise letted at that
time could not come) armed his soldiers, thinking to invade them, or
else to destroy them in the senate-house. But this coming to their
knowledge before, the people was all in array, and so much ado was
amongst them. Pope Lucius being also amongst them in the fight, (well
pelted with stones and blows,) lived not long after. Likewise Pope
Eugenius after him, A.D. 1145, pursuing the Romans for the same
matter, first did curse them with excommunication; after, when he saw
that would not serve, he came with his host, and so compelled them at
length to seek his peace, and to take his conditions, which were
these; that they should abolish their consuls, and take such senators
as he by his papal authority should assign them.

Then followed Anastasius the Fourth, and after him Adrian the Fourth,
an Englishman, by his name called Breakspear, belonging once to St
Albans. This Adrianus kept great stir in like sort with the citizens
of Rome for abolishing their consuls and senate, cursing,
excommunicating, and warring against them with all power he could
make, till the time he removed the consuls out of their office, and
brought them all under his subjection. The like business and rage he
also stirred up against Apulia, and especially against the empire,
blustering and thundering against Fredericus the emperor, as (the
Lord granting) you shall hear anon, after we have prosecuted such
matter as necessarily apprrtnineth first to the continuation of our
English story.



38. HENRY II

Henry, the second of that name, the son of Geoffrey Plantagenet, and
of Maud the empress, and daughter of King Henry the First, began his
reign after King Stephen, and continued five and thirty years. The
first year of his reign he subdued Ireland; and not long after,
Thomas Becket was made by him lord chancellor of England. This king
cast down divers castles which were erected in the time of King
Stephen. He went into the north parts, where he subdued William, king
of Scotland, who at that time held a great part of Northumberland,
unto Newcastle upon Tyne, and joined Scotland to his own kingdom,
from the south ocean to the north isles of Orkneys. Also he put under
his dominion the kingdom of Wales, and there felled many great woods,
and made the ways plain. So that by his great manhood and policy the
seigniory of England was much augmented with the addition of
Scotland, Ireland, the Orkney Isles, Britain, Poictou, and Guienne.
Also he had in his rule Normandy, Gascony, Anjou, and Chinon; also
Auvergne and the city of Thoulouse he won, and were to him subject.
Over and besides (by the title of his wife Eleanor, daughter to the
earl of Poictou) be obtained the Pyrenees in Spain; so that we read
of none of his progenitors which had so many countries under his
dominion.

In England were seen in the firmament two suns, and in Italy appeared
three suns by the space of three hours in the west; and the year
following appeared three moons, whereof the middle moon had a red
cross overthwart the face, whereby was betokened (by the judgment of
some the great schism that after fell among the cardinals for the
election of the bishop of Rome; or else rather the business between
Frederic the emperor and the popes, whereof partly now incidently
occasion giveth us to discourse, after that I have first written of
Gerhardus and Dulcious Navarensis; who in their time, according to
their gift, did earnestly labour and preach against the Church of
Rome, defending and maintaining, that prayer was not more holy in one
place than in another; that the pope was antichrist; that the clergy
and prelates of Rome were reprobate, and the very whore of Babylon
prefigured in the Apocalypse. Peradventure these had received some
light of knowledge of the Waldenses, who at length with a great
number of their followers were oppressed and slain by the pope. And
although some inconvenient points of doctrine and dishonesty in their
assemblies be against them alleged of some, yet these times of ours
do teach us sufficiently what credit is to be given to such popish
slanders, forged rather upon hatred of true religion than upon any
judgment of truth. Illyricus, in his book De Testibus, referreth the
time of these two to the year of our Lord 1218; but, as I find in the
story of Robert Guisburne, these two, about the year of our Lord
1158, brought thirty with them into England, who by the king and the
prelates were all burnt in the forehead, and so driven out of the
realm, and after (as Illyricus writeth) were slain by the pope.



39. QUARREL BETWEEN THE EMPEROR FREDERICK BARBAROSSA AND THE PAPACY

And now (according to my promise premised) the time requireth to
proceed to the history of Frederic the First, (called Barbarossa,)
successor unto Conradus in the empire, who marched up to Italy to
subdue there certain rebels. The pope hearing that, came with his
clergy to meet him by the way, in a town called Sutrium, thinking by
him to find aid against his enemies. The emperor seeing the bishop,
lighteth from his horse to receive him, holding the stirrup to the
prelate on the left side, when he should have held it on the right,
whereat the pope showed himself somewhat grieved. The emperor
smiling, excused himself; that he was never accustomed to hold
stirrups. And seeing it was done only of good will, and of no duty,
the less matter was what side of the horse he held. The next day, to
make amends again to the bishop, the emperor sending for him received
him, holding the right stirrup unto the prelate, and so all the
matter was made whole, and he the pope's white son again.

After this, as they were come in and sat together, Adrian the pope
beginneth to declare unto him, how his ancestors before him, such as
sought unto the see of Rome for the crown, were wont always to leave
behind them some special token or monument of their benevolence for
the obtaining thereof, Carolus Magnus in subduing the Lombards, Otho
the Berengarians, Lotharius the Normans, &c. Wherefore he required
some benefit to proceed likewise from him unto the Church of Rome, in
restoring again the country of Apulia to the Church of Rome. Which
thing if he would do, he for his part again would do that which
appertained unto him to do; meaning in giving him the crown, for at
that time the popes had brought the emperors to fetch their crown at
their hands.

Frederic, with his princes, perceiving that unless he would of his
own proper costs and charges fetch in again Apulia out of Duke
William's hands, he could not speed of the crown, was fain to promise
to all that the pope required, and so the next day after was crowned.

This done, the emperor returneth into Germany, to refresh his army
and his other furnitures, for the subduing of Apulia. In the mean
while Adrian, not thinking to be idle, first giveth forth censures of
excommunication against William, duke of Apulia. Besides, not content
with this, he sendeth also to Emmanuel, emperor of Constantinople,
incensing him to war against the foresaid William. The duke
perceiving this, sendeth to the pope for peace, promising to restore
to him whatsoever he would.

But the pope, through the malignant counsel of his cardinals, would
grant to no peace, thinking to get more by war. The duke, seeing
nothing but war, prepareth himself with all expedition to the same.
To be brief, making all his power out of Sicilia, he arrived at
Apulia, and there putteth the emperor Emmanuel to flight. This done,
he proceedeth to the city of Bonaventure, where the pope with his
cardinals were looking for victory. He, planting there his siege, so
straitly pressed the city, that the pope with his cardinals were glad
to entreat for peace, which they refused before. The duke granted
unto their peace upon certain conditions, that is, that neither he
should invade such possessions as belonged to Rome, and that the pope
should make him king of both Sicilies. So the matter was concluded,
and they departed. The bishop, coming to Rome, was no less troubled
there about their consuls and senators, insomuch that when his curses 
and excommunications could not prevail nor serve, he was fain to
leave Rome, and removed to Ariminum.

The emperor, all this while sitting quietly at home, began to
consider with himself how the pope had extorted from the emperors his
predecessors the investing and enduing of prelates; how he had pilled
and polled all nations by his legates, and also had been the sower of
seditions through all his empire. He began therefore to require of
all the hishops of Germany homage, and oath of their allegiance;
commanding also the pope's legates, if they came into Germany without
his sending for, not to be received. Charging, moreover, all his
subjects that none of them should appeal to Rome. Besides this, in
his letters he set and prefixed his name before the pope's name;
whereupon the pope, being not a little offended, directed his letters
to the foresaid Frederic, emperor, after this tenor and form as
followeth.

The copy of Adrianus the pope's letters to Frederic the emperor.

"Adrian, bishop, servant of the servants of God, to Frederic,
emperor, health and apostolical benediction. The law of God, as it
promiseth to them that honour father and mother long life, so it
threateneth the sentence of death to them that curse father and
mother. We are taught by the word of truth, that every one the which
exalteth himself shall be brought low. Whrefore (my well-beloved son
in the Lord) we marvel not a little at your wisdom, in that you seem
not to show that reverence to blessed St. Peter, and to the holy
Church of Rome, which you ought to show. For why? In your letters
sent to us, you prefer your own name before ours; wherein you incur
the note of insolency, yea rather, (to speak it,) of arrogancy. What
should I here recite unto you the oath of your fidelity, which you
aware to blessed St. Peter and to us, and how you observe and keep
the same? Seeing you so require homage and allegiance of them that be
gods, and all the sons of the High God, and presume to join their
holy lands with yours, working contrary to us; seeing also you
exclude, not only out of your churches, but also out of your cities,
our cardinals, whom we direct as legates from our side; what shall I
say then unto you? Amend therefore, I advise you, amend; for while
you go about to obtain of us your consecration and crown, and to get
those things you have not, I fear much your honour will lose the
things you have. Thus fare ye well."

The answer of Frederic, the emperor, to the pope.

"Frederic, by the grace of God,Roman emperor, ever Augustus, unto
Adrian, bishop of the Roman church, and unto all such that be willing
to cleave unto those things which Jesus began to work and teach,
greeting. The law of justice giveth to every person accordingly that
which is his. Neither do we derogate from our parents; of whom,
according as we have received this our dignity of the imperial crown
and governance, so in the same kingdom of ours we do render their due
and true honour to them again. And forsomuch as duty in all sorts of
men is to be sought out, let us see first in the time of Constantine
(Silvester then being bishop of Rome) what patrimony or regality he
had of his own due to him that he might claim. Did not Constantine of
his liberal benignity give liberty, and restored peace unto the
church? And what soever regality or patrimony the see of your papacy
hath, was it not by the donation of princes given unto them? Revolve
and turn over the ancient chronicles, (if either you have not read or
neglected that we do affirm,) there it is to be found. Of them which
be gods by adoption, and hold our lordships of us, why may we not
justly require their homage, and their sworn allegiance, whenas he
which is both your Master and ours (taking nothing of any king or any
man, but giving all goodness to all men) payed toll and tribute for
him and Peter unto Cæsar? giving you example to do the like. And
therefore he saith to you and all men, "Learn of me, for I am meek
and humble of heart," &c. Wherefore either render again your
lordships and patrimonies which ye hold of us; or else, if ye find
them so sweet unto you, then give that which is due to God unto God,
and that which is due to Cæsar unto Cæsar. As for your cardinals, we
shut them out both of churches and cities, for that we see them not
preachers, but prollers; not repairers of peace, but rakers for
money; not pillars and upholders of the church, but pollers
insatiable of the world, and moilers of money and gold. What time we
shall see them to be other men, (such as the church requireth them to
be,) members and makers of peace, shining forth like lights to the
people, assisting poor and weak men's causes in the way of equity,
&c., then shall they find us prepared and ready to relieve them with
stipends, and all things necessary. And whereas you infer such
questions as these unto secular men, (little conducing to religion,)
you incur thereby no little note and blemish of your humility, (which
is keeper of all virtues,) and of your mansuetude. Therefore let your
fatherhood beware and take heed, lest in moving such matters as seem
to us unseemly for you, ye give thereby offence to such as depend of
your word (giving ear to your mouth, as it were to an evening
shower); for we cannot but tell you of that we hear, seeing now the
detestable beast of pride doth creep into the seat of Peter,
providing always (as much as we may by God's grace) for the peace of
the church. Fare ye well."

Upon this Adrian the pope directeth out a bull against Frederic,
excommunicating him with public and solemn ceremonies. Moreover,
conspiring with William, duke of Apulia, he sought all manner of ways
to infest the emperor, and to set all men against him, especially the
clergy. Amongst many other writing to Hillinus, bishop of Trivers, to
Arnulphus, bishop of Mentz, and to Frederic, bishop of Cullen, he
seeketh first to make them of his side.

Much trouble had good Fredericus with this pope; but much more with
the other that followed. For this pope continued not very long, the
space only of four years and odd months. About whose time rose up the
order of the hermits by one William, once duke of Aquitania, and
afterward a friar. This Adrianus, walking with his cardinals abroad
to a place called Anagnia, or Arignanum, (as Volateran calleth it,)
chanced to be choked with a fly getting into his throat, and so was
strangled; who, in the later time of his papacy, was wont to say,
that there is no more miserable kind of life in the earth, than to be
pope, and to come to the papacy by blood, that is, (said he,) not to
succeed Peter, but rather Romulus, who, to reign alone, did slay his
brother.

Although this Adrian was bad enough, yet came the next much worse,
one Alexander, the third of that name, who yet was not elect alone;
for beside him the emperor with nine cardinals (albeit Sabellicus
saith but with three) did set up another pope, named Victor the
Fourth. Between these two popes rose a foul schism and great discord,
and long continued. Insomuch that the emperor, being required to take
up the matter, sent for them both to appear before him, that in
hearing them both he might judge their cause the better. Victor came,
but Alexander (disdaining that his matter should come in controversy)
refused to appear. Whereupon the emperor, with a full consent of his
bishops and clergy about him, assigned and ratified the election of
Victor to stand, and so brought him into the city, there to be
received and placed. Alexander flying into France, accused them both,
sending his letters to all Christendom against them, as men to be
avoided and cast out of all Christian company. Also to get him
friends at Rome, by flattery and money he got on his side the
greatest part of the city, both to the favouring of him, and to the
setting up of such consuls as were for his purpose. After this,
Alexander coming from France to Sicily, and from thence to Rome, was 
there received with much favour, through the help of Philip the
French king. The
(Ornamental Capital: ) Emperor, hearing this rebellion and conspiracy
in Rome, removed with great power into Italy, where he had destroyed
divers great cities. Coming at length to Rome, he required the
citizens that the cause betwixt the two popes might be decided, and
that he which had the best right might be taken. If they would so do,
he would restore again that which he took from them before. Alexander
mistrusting his part, and doubting the wills of the citizens, (having
ships ready prepared for him from William, duke of Apulia,) fetched a
course about to Venice.

To declare here the difference in histories, between Blondus,
Sabellicus, and the Venetian chroniclers, with other writers,
concerning the order of this matter, I will overpass. In this most do
agree, that the pope being at Venice, and required to be sent of the
Venetians to the emperor, they would not send him. Whereupon
Fredericus the emperor sent thither his son Otho, with men and ships
well appointed, charging him not to attempt any thing before his
coming. The young man, more hardy than circumspect, (joining with the
Venetians,) was overcome; and so taken, was brought out into the
city. Hereby the pope took no small occasion to work his feats.

The father, to help the captivity and misery of his son, was
compelled to submit himself to the pope, and to entreat for peace. So
the emperor, coming to Venice, (at St. Mark's church, where the
bishop was, there to take his absolution,) was bid to kneel down at
the pope's feet.

The proud pope, setting his foot upon the emperor's neck, said the
verse of the Psalm, "Thou shalt walk upon the adder and on the
basilisk, and shalt tread down the lion and the dragon." To whom the
emperor answering again, said, Not to thee, but to Peter. The pope
again, Both to me and to Peter. The emperor, fearing to give any
occasion of further quarrelling, held his peace, and so was absolved,
and peace made between them. The conditions whereof were these.
First, that he should receive Alexander for the true pope. Secondly.
that he should restore again to the Church of Rome all that he had
taken away before. And thus the emperor, obtaining again his son.
departed.

Here, as I note in divers writers a great diversity and variety
touching the order of this matter. (of whom some say that the emperor
camped in Palestina before he came to Venice, some say after,) so I
marvel to see in Volateran (so great a favourer of the pope) such a
contradiction, who in his two and twentieth book saith, that Otho,
the emperor's son. was taken in this conflict, which was the cause of
the peace between his father and the pope. And in his three and
twentieth book again saith, that the emperor himself was taken
prisoner in the same battle; and so afterwards (peace concluded) took
his journey to Asia and Palestina. This pope, in the time of his
papacy, (which continued one and twenty years,) kept sundry councils
both at Turo and at Lateran, where he confirmed the wicked
proceedings of Hildebrand, and others his predecessors; as to bind
all orders of the clery to the vow of chastity; which were not
greatly to be reprehended, if they would define chastity aright. For
who so liveth not a chaste life (saith he) is not fit to be a
minister. But herein lieth an error full of much blindness, and also
peril, to think that matrimony immaculate (as St. Paul calleth it) is
not chastity, but only a single life, that they esteem to be a chaste
life.



40. LIFE AND DEATH OF THOMAS A BECKET

Now forsomuch as our English pope-holy martyr, called Thomas Becket,
happened also in the same time of this Pope Alexander, let us 
somewhat also speak of him, so far as the matter shall seem worthy of
knowledge, and to stand with truth; to the end that the truth thereof
being sifted from all flattery and lies of such popish writers as
paint out his story, men may the better judge both of him what he
was, and also of his cause.

If the cause make a martyr, (as is said,) I see not why we should
esteem Thomas Becket to die a martyr, more than any other whom the
prince's sword doth here temporally punish for their temporal 
deserts. To die for the church I grant is a glorious matter. But the
church, as it is a spiritual and not a temporal church, so it
standeth upon causes spiritual, and upon a heavenly foundation, as
upon faith, religion, true doctrine, sincere discipline, obedience to
God's commandments; and not upon things pertaining to this world, as
possessions, liberties, exemptions, privileges, dignities,
patrimonies, and superiorities. If these be given to the church, I
pray God churchmen may use them well; but if they be not given, the
church cannot claim them; or if they be taken away, that standeth in
the prince's power. To contend with princes for the same, it is no
matter (in my mind) sufficient to make a martyr, but rather a rebel
against them to whom we owe subjection. Therefore, as I suppose
Thomas Becket to be far from the cause and title of a martyr,
(neither can he be excused from a plain rebel against his prince,) so
yet would I have wished again the law rather publicly to have found
out his fault, than the swords of men (not bidden nor sent) to have
smitten him, having no special commandment either of the prince or of
the law so to do. For though the indignation of the prince (as the
wise prince saith) is death, yet it is not for every private person
straightways to revenge the secret indignation of his prince, except
he be publicly authorized thereunto. And this had been (as I suppose)
the better way, if the laws had first executed their justice upon
him. Certes, it had been the safest way for the king, as it proved
after; who had just matter enough, if he had prosecuted his cause
against him. And also thereby his death had been without all
suspicion of martyrdom, neither had there followed that shrining and 
sainting of him as there did. Albeit the secret providence of God,
which governeth all things, did see this way perhaps to be best, and
most necessary for those days. And doubtless (to say here what I
think, and yet to speak nothing against charity) if the emperors had
done the like to the popes contending against them, what time they
had taken them prisoners; that is, if they had used the law of the
sword against them, and chopped off the heads of one or two,
according to their traitorous rebellion; they had broken the neck of
much disturbance, which long time after did trouble the church. But
for lack of that, because emperors having the sword and the truth on
their side, would not use their sword; but standing in awe of the
pope's vain curse, and reverencing his seat for St. Peter's sake,
durst not lay hand upon him, though he were never so abominable and
traitorous a malefactor; the popes perceiving that took so much upon
them, not as the Scripture would give, but as much as the
superstitious fear of emperors and kings would suffer them to take;
which was so much, that it passed all order, rule, and measure; and
all because the superior powers either would not, or durst not,
practise the authority given unto them of the Lord upon those
inferiors, but suffered them to be their masters.

But as touching Thomas Becket, whatsoever is to be thought of them
that did the act, the example thereof yet bringeth this profit with
it, to teach all Romish prelates not to be so stubborn (in such
matters not pertaining unto them) against their prince unto whom God
hath subjected them.

Now to the story, which if it be true that is set forth in
Quadrilogo, by those four who took upon them to express the life and
process of Thomas Becket, it appeareth by all conjectures that he was
a man of a stout nature, severe, and inflexible. What persuasion or
opinion he had once conceived, from that he would in no wise be
removed, or very hardly. Threatenings and flattering were to him both
one; in this point singular, following no man's counsel so much as
his own. Great helps of nature there were in him (if he could have
used them well) rather than of learning; albeit somewhat skilful he
was of the civil law, which he studied at Bonony; in memory
excellently good, and also well broken in courtly and worldly
matters. Besides this, he was of a chaste and strait life, if the
histories be true; although in the first part of his life (being yet
archdeacon of Canterbury, and after lord chancellor) he was very
evil, courtly, pleasant, given much both to hunting and hawking,
according to the guise of the court; and highly favoured he was of
his prince, who not only had thus promoted him, but also had
committed his son and heir to his institution and governance. But in
this his first beginning he was not so well beloved, but afterward he
was again as much hated, (and deservedly,) both of the king, and also
of the most part of his subjects, save only of certain monks and
priests, and such others as were persuaded by them, who magnified him
not a little for upholding the liberties of the church, that is, the
licentious life and excess of churchmen. Amongst all others, these
vices he had most notable, and to be rebuked; full of devotion, but
without all true religion; zealous, but clean without knowledge. And
therefore as he was stiff and stubborn of nature, so (a blind
conscience being joined withal) it turned to plain rebellion. So
superstitious he was to the obedience of the pope, that he forgot his
obedience to his natural and most beneficial king; and, in
maintaining (so contentiously) the vain constitutions and degrees of
men, he neglected the commandments of God. But herein most of all is
he to be reprehended, that not only (contrary to the king's
knowledge) he sought to convey himself out of the realm, (being in
that place and calling,) but also being out of the realm, he set
matter of discord between the pope and his king, and also between the
French king and him, contrary to all honesty, good order, natural
subjection, and true Christianity. Where upon followed no little
disquietness to the king, and damage to the realm, as here (in
process and order following, by the grace of Christ) we will declare;
beginning with the first rising up of him, and so consequently
prosecuting in order his story.

And first here to omit the progeny of him and of his mother, named
Rose, whom Polydore Virgil falsely nameth to be a Saracen, when
indeed she came out of the parts bordering near to Normandy; to omit
also the fabulous vision of his mother, mentioned in Roberto
Crikeladensi, of a burning torch issuing out of her body, and
reaching up to heaven; his first preferment was to the church of
Branfield, which he had by the gift of St. Albans. After that, he
entered into the service of the archbishop of Canterbury, by whom he
was then preferred to be his archdeacon; and after by the said
Theobald was put (as a man meet for his purpose) to King Henry to
bridle the young king, that he should not be fierce against the
clergy; whom in process of time the king made lord chancellor, and
then he left playing the archdeacon, and began to play the
chancellor. He fashioned his conditions like to the king's both in
weighty matters and trifles; he would hunt with him, and watch the
time when the king dined and slept. Furthermore, he began to love the
merry jestings of the court, to delight himself with the great laud
of men, and praise of the people. And that I may not pass over his
household stuff, he had his bridle of silver, and the bosses of his
bridle were worth a great treasure. At his table and in other
expenses he passed any earl; so that, on the one side, men judged him
little to consider the office of an archdeacon; and, on the other
side, they judged him to use wicked doings. He played also the good
soldier under the king in Gascoigne, and both won and kept towns.
When the king sent Thomas, being chancellor, home into England,
(ambassador with other nobles, after the death of the archbishop,) he
willed Richard Lucy (one of the chiefest) to commend in his name this
Thomas to the convent of Canterbury, that they might choose him
archbishop, which thing be did diligently. The monks said it was not
meet to choose a courtier and a soldier to be head of so holy a
company; for he would spend (said they) all that they had. Others had
this surmise also, because he was in so great favour with the prince,
the king's son, and was so suddenly discharged of the chancellorship,
which he had borne five years. In the four and fortieth year of his
age (on the Saturday in Whitsun week) he was made priest, and the
next day consecrated bishop.

As touching the priesthood of this man, I find the histories to vary
in themselves; for if he were beneficed, and chaplain to Theobald,
and afterwards archdeacon, (as some say,) it is no other like but
that be was priest before, and not (as our most English stories say)
made priest in one day, and archbishop the next.

But howsoever this matter passeth, here is in the mean time to be
seen what great benefits the king had done for him, and what great
love had been between them both. Now after that Becket was thus
promoted, what variance and discord happened between them remaineth
to be showed; the causes of which variance were divers and sundry.

As, first, when (according to the custom) the king's officers
gathered of every one hide-money through the realm, for the defence
of their own country, the king would have taken it to his coffers.
But the bishop said, that which every man gave willingly he should
not count as his proper rent.

Another cause was, that where a priest was accused of murder, and the
king's officers and the friends of the dead accused the priest
earnestly before the bishop of Salisbury, his diocesan, to whom he
was sent, desiring justice to be done on him, the priest was put to
his purgation. But when he was not able to defend himself, the bishop
sent to the archbishop to ask what he should do. The archbishop
commanded he should be deprived of all ecclesiastical benefices, and
shut up in an abbey to do perpetual penance. After the same sort were
divers others handled for like causes, but none put to death, nor
lost joint, nor burned in the hand, or put to the like pain.

The third cause was, that, where a canon of Bruis did revile the
king's justices, the king was offended with the whole clergy. For
these and such-like the archbishop (to pacify the king's anger)
commanded the canon to be whipped and deprived of his benefices for
certain years. But the king was not content with this gentle
punishment, because it rather increased their boldness; and therefore
he called the archbishop, bishops, and all the clergy to assemble at
Westminster. When they were assembled together, the king earnestly
commanded that such wicked clerks should have no privilege of their
clergy, but be delivered to the jailors, because they passed so
little of the spiritual correction; and this he said also their own
canons and laws had decreed. The archbishop, counselling with his
bishops and learned men, answered probably; and in the end he desired
heartily the king's gentleness, (for the quietness of himself and his
realm,) that under Christ, our new King, and under the new law of
Christ, he would bring in no new kind of punishment into his realm,
(upon the new chosen people of the Lord,) against the old decrees of
the holy fathers; and oft he said that he neither ought nor could
suffer it. The king moved therewith (and not without cause) allegeth
again and exacteth the old laws and customs of his grandfather,
observed and agreed upon by archbishops, bishops, prelates, and other
privileged persons; inquiring likewise of him whether he would agree
to the same, or else now (in his reign) would condemn that which in
the reign of his grand father was well allowed. To which laws and 
customs the said Thomas did partly grant, and partly not grant. The
copy of the which foresaid laws are contained in the number of eight
and twenty or nine and twenty, whereof I thought here to recite
certain not unworthy to be known.

The copy of the old laws and customs where unto Thomas Becket did
grant.

1. That no order should be given to husbandmen's children and
bondmen's children, without the assent or testimonial of them which
be the lords of the country where they were born and brought up; and
if their sons become clerks, they shall not receive the order of
priesthood without licence of their lords.

2. And if a man of holy church hold any lay fee in his hand, he shall
do therefore the king the service that belongeth thereto, as upon
juries, assize of lands and judgments, saving only at execution doing
of death.

3. If any man were the king's traitor, and had taken the church, that
it should be lawful for the king and his officers to take him out.

4. And if any felon's goods were brought to holy church, that there
should none such keep there; for every felon's goods be the king's.

5. That no land should be given to the church, or to any house of
religion, without the king's licence.

These articles following Thomas agreed not unto.

1. If that between a clerk and a layman were any striving for church
goods, they would the plea should be done in the king's court.

2. That there should neither bishop nor clerk go out of the land
without the king's licence, and then he should swear upon a book he
should procure no hurt against the king, nor none of his.

3. If any man were denounced accursed, and were come again to
amendment, the king would not that he should he sworn, but only find
sureties to stand to that that holy church should award.

4. That no man, that held of the king in chief or in service, should
be accursed without the king's licence.

5. That all the bishoprics and abbeys that were vacant should be in
the king's hands, until such time that be should choose a prelate
thereto, and he should be chosen out of the king's chapels; and,
first, before he were confirmed, he should do his homage to the king.

6. If any plea were brought to the consistory, they should appeal
from thence to the archdeacon, and from thence to the bishop's court,
and from the bishop's court to the archbishop's, and from thence to
the king, and no further. So that, in conclusion, the complaints of
holy church must come before the king, and not the pope.

7. That debts that were owing through troth plight should not be
pleaded in spiritual, but in temporal courts.

8. That the Peter pence which to the pope were gathered should be
taken to the king.

9. If any clerk for felony were taken and so proved, he should be
first degraded, and then through judgment be hanged, or, if he were a
traitor, be drawn.

Other lawes and constitutions made at Clarendon in Normandy, and sent
to England, whereunto Becket and the pope would not agree, he being
then fled out of the realm.

1. If any person shall be found to bring from the pope, or from the
archbishop of Canterbury, any writing containing any interdict or
curse against the realm of England, the same man to be apprehended
without delay for a traitor, and execution to be done upon the same.

2. That no monk nor any clerk shall be permitted to pass over into
England without a passport from the king or his justices; whoso doth
the contrary, that man to be attached and imprisoned.

3. No man to be so bold once to appeal to the pope, or to the
archbishop of Canterbury out of England.

4. That no decree or commandment, proceeding from the authority of
the pope or the bishop of Canterbury, be received into England, under
pain of taking and imprisoning.

5. In general, to forbid any man to carry over any commandment or
precept, either of clerk or layman, to the pope, or to the archbishop
of Canterbury, under pain of imprisonment.

6. If any bishop, clerk, abbot, or layman shall do contrary to this
inhibition, or will keep the sentence of interdicting, the same
incontinent to be thrust out of the land, with all their kindred, and
to leave all their goods behind them.

7. All the possessions, goods, and chattels of such as favour the
pope, or the archbishop of Canterbury, to be seized and confiscate
for the king.

8. All such of the clergy as be out of the realm, having their rents
and profits out of the land, to be summoned and warned through every
shire within three months to repair home, or else their rents and
goods to return to the king.

9. That St. Peter's pence should be no more paid to the apostolical
see, but be reserved diligently in the king's coffers, and there to
be at his commandment.

10. That the bishops of Salisbury and Norwich be at the king's mercy,
and be summoned by the sheriff and beadles, that they before the
king's justices do right to the king and his justices, because
(contrary to the statutes of Clarendon) by commandment they
interdicted the land of Earl Hugh, and published the same in their
diocess without licence of the king's justices.

By these and such other laws and decrees it may appear, that the
abolishing of the pope is no new thing in the realm of England. This
only difference there is, that the pope being driven out then, could
not be kept out so long as now he is. The cause is, that the time was
not yet come that antichrist should so fully be revealed; neither was
his wickedness then so fully ripe in those days, as it hath been now
in our time. Now these premised, let us return where we left, to the
matter between the king and Thomas Becket.

The communication and controversy between the king and Thomas Becket
with his clergy.

The king (as is aforesaid) conventing his nobles and clerks together,
required to have the punishment of certain misdoers of the clergy;
but Thomas Becket not assenting thereunto, the king came to this
point, to know whether he would consent with his clergy, that the
customs then set forth in the realm (meaning the first part of those
decrees above specified) should he observed. To which the archbishop,
consulting together with his brethren, giveth answer again, that he
was contented the king's ordinances should be observed, adding this,
saving his order. And so in like manner all the other bishops after,
being demanded in order, answered with the same addition. Hilarius,
bishop of Chichester, perceiving the king to be exasperated with that
addition, instead of salvo ordine, (saving his order,) agreed to
observe them bona fide. The king hearing them not simply to agree
unto him, but with an exception, was mightily offended; who then
turning to the archbishop and the prelates, said that he was not well
contented with that clause of theirs, salvo sue ordine, which he said
was captious and deceitful, having some manner of venom lurking under
it; and therefore required an absolute grant of them, without any
exception, to agree to the king's ordinances. To this the archbishop
answered again, that they had sworn unto him their fidelity, both
life, body, and earthly honour: and that in the same earthly honour
also those ordinances were comprehended, and to the observing of them
they would bind themselves after no other form, but as they had sworn
before. The king with this was moved, and all his nobility, not a
little. As for the other bishops, there was no doubt but they would
easily have relented, had not the stoutness of the archbishop made
them more constant than otherwise they would have been. The day being
well spent, the king (when he could get no other answer of them)
departed in great anger, giving no word of salutation to the bishops,
and likewise the bishops every one to his own house departed. The
bishop of Chichester (amongst the rest) was greatly rebuked of his
fellows for changing the exception, contrary to the voice of all the
others. The next day following the king took from the archbishop all
such honours and lordships as he had given him before in the time
that he was chancellor; whereby appeared the great displeasure of the
king against him and the clergy. Not long after this, the king
removing from London, (unknown to the bishops,) sailed over to
Normandy, whither the bishop of London, called Gilbert, (not long
after,) resorted to crave the king's favour, and gave him counsel
withal to join some of the bishops on his side; lest if all were
against him, peradventure he might sooner be overthrown. And thus the
greatest number of the bishops were by this means reconciled again to
the king; only the archbishop with a few others remained in their
stoutness still. The king, (thinking to try all manner of ways,) when
he saw no fear nor threats could turn him, did assay him with
gentleness; it would not serve. Many of the nobles laboured betwixt
them both, exhorting him to relent to the king; it would not be.
Likewise the archbishop of York, with divers other bishops and
abbots, especially the bishop of Chester, did the same. Besides this,
his own household daily called upon him, but no man could persuade
him. At length understanding partly by them that came to him what
danger might happen, not only to himself, but to all the other
clergy, upon the king's displeasure; partly considering the old love
and kindness of the king towards him in time past; he was content to
give over to the king's request, and came to Oxford to him,
reconciling himself about the addition, which displeased the king so
much. Whereupon the king being somewhat mitigated receiveth him with
a more cheerful countenance, but yet not all so familiarly as before,
saying that he would have his ordinances and proceedings after the
form confirmed in the public audience and open sight of his bishops
and all his nobles. After this, the king (being at Clarendon) there
called all his peers and prelates before him, requiring to have that
performed which they had promised, in consenting to the observing of
his grandfather's ordinances and proceedings. The archbishop,
suspecting I cannot tell what in the king's promise, drew backward,
and now would not that he would before; at last with much ado he was
enforced to give assent. First came to him the bishop of Salisbury
and of Norwich, who (for old matters endangered to the king long
before) came weeping and lamenting to the archbishop, desiring him to
have some compassion of them, and to remit this pertinacy to the
king, lest if he so continued, (through his stoutness to exasperate
the king's displeasure,) haply it might redound to no small danger,
not only of them, which were in jeopardy already, but also of himself
to be imprisoned, and the whole clergy to be endangered. Besides
these two bishops, there went to him other two noble peers of the
realm, labouring with him to relent and condescend to the king's
desire; if not, they should be enforced to use such violence, as
neither would stand with the king's fame, and much less with his
quietness: but yet the stout stomach of the man would not give over.
After this came to him two rulers of the temple, called Templars, one
Richard de Hust, another Costans de Heverio, with their company,
lamenting and bewailing the great peril which they declared unto him
to hang over his head; yet neither with their tears nor with their
kneelings would he he removed. At length came the last message from
the king, signifying unto him with express words, and also with 
tears, what he should trust to, if he would not give over to the
king's request.

By reason of which message he, either terrified, or else persuaded,
was content to submit himself. Whereupon the king incontinent
assembling the states together, the archbishop first before all
others beginneth to promise the king obedience, and submission unto
his custom, and that cum bona fide, leaving out his former addition,
salvo ordine, mentioned before; instead whereof he promised in verbo
veritatis, to observe and keep the king's customs, and swear to the
same. After him the other bishops likewise gave the like oath;
whereupon the king commanded incontinent certain instruments
obligatory to be drawn, of the which the king should have the one,
the archbishop of Canterbury another, the archbishop of York the
third, requiring also the said archbishop to set to his hand and
seal. To the which the archbishop (though not denying but that he was
ready so to do) yet desired respite in the matter, while that he
(being but newly come to his bishopric) might better peruse with
himself the foresaid customs and ordinances of the king. This
request, as it seemed but reasonable, so it was lightly granted; so
the day being well spent, they departed for that season and brake up.

Alanus, one of the four writers of the Life of this Thomas Becket,
recordeth, that the archbishop, in his voyage towards Winchester,
began greatly to repent that he had done before, partly through the
instigation of certain about him, but chiefly of his cross-bearer,
who, going before the archbishop, sharply and earnestly expostulated
with him for giving over to the king's request, against the privilege
and liberties of the church, polluting not only his fame and
conscience, but also giving a pernicious example to them that should
come after; with many like words. To make the matter short, the
archbishop was so touched upon the same with such repentance, that
keeping himself from all company, lamenting with tears, with fasting,
and with much penance macerating and afflicting himself, he did
suspend himself from all Divine service, and would not receive
comfort before that (word being sent to his holy grandfather the
pope) he should be assoiled of him; who, tendering the tears of his
dear chicken, directed to him letters again by the same messenger
which Thomas had sent up to him before. In which letters not only he
assoiled him from his trespass, but also with words of great
consolation did encourage him to be stout in the quarrel he took in
hand. The copy of which letters consolatory, sent from the pope to
Bishop Becket, here followeth under written:

"Alexander, bishop, &c. Your brotherhood is not ignorant that it hath
been advertised us how that, upon the occasion of a certain
transgression or excess of yours, you have determined to cease
henceforth from saying of mass, and to abstain from the consecration
of the body and blood of the Lord; which thing to do, how dangerous
it is, (especially in such a personage,) and also what inconvenience
may rise thereof, I will you advisedly to consider, and discreetly
also to ponder. Your wisdom ought not to forget what difference there
is between them which advisedly and willingly do offend, and those
which through ignorance and for necessity sake do offend. For as you
read, so much the greater is wilful sin; as the same, not being
voluntary, is a lesser sin. Therefore, if you remember yourself to
have done any thing that your own conscience doth accuse you of;
whatsoever it be, we counsel you (as a prudent and wise prelate) to
acknowledge the same. Which thing done, the merciful and pitiful God,
who hath more respect to the heart of the doer than to the thing
done, will remit and forgive you the same, according to his
accustomed great mercy. And we, trusting in the merits of the blessed
apostles St. Peter and Paul, do absolve you from the offence
committed, and by the authority apostolical we release you unto your
fraternity, counselling you and commanding you, that henceforth you
abstain not (for this cause) from the celebration of the mass."

This letter, with others more after the like sort, the pope then
wrote to him, animating and comforting him in this quarrel, so nearly
pertaining to the pope's profit. By the occasion whereof Becket took
no small heart and consolation; insomuch that thereof seemeth to me
to proceed all the occasion that made him so stout and malapert
against his prince, as hereafter followeth to he seen by his doings.
What the other letters were that the pope wrote unto him shortly
after (when we come to the appellations made to the pope) shall
appear, God willing. In the mean season, (as he sat thus mourning at
home,) the king hearing of him, and how he refused to set his seal to
those sanctions which he condescended to before, took displeasure
against him; insomuch that he (threatening to him both his banishment
and death) began to call him to reckonings, and to burden him with
payments, that all men might understand that the king's mind was sore
set against him. The archbishop hereupon (whether more for the love
of the pope, or dread of his prince) thought to make an escape out of
the realm, and so went about in the night (with two or three with
him, stealing out of his house) to take the sea privily. Now amongst
others the king's ordi nances and sanctions, this was one, that none
of the prelacy or nobility without the king's licence (or of his
justices) should depart out of the realm. So Becket twice attempted
the sea to flee to the see of Rome; but, the weather not serving, he
was driven home again, and his device for that time frustrated. After
his departure began to be known and noised abroad, the king's
officers came to Canterbury to seize upon his goods in the king's
behalf But, as it chanced, the night before their coming Becket being
returned and found at home, they did not proceed in their purpose.

Upon this, the archbishop (understanding the king sore bent against
him, and the seas not to serve him) made haste to the court, lying
then at Woodstock; where the king received him, (after a certain
manner,) but nothing so familiarly as he was wont, taunting him
jestingly and merrily, as though one realm were not able to hold them
both. Becket (although he was permitted to go and come at his
pleasure to the court) yet could not obtain the favour that he would,
perceiving both in himself, and confessing no less to others, how the
matter would fall out, so that either he should be constrained to
give over with shame, or stoutly stand to that which be had so boldly
taken in hand. The archbishop of York, in the mean time, (going
betwixt the king and the archbishop,) laboured to make a peace and
love betwixt them; but the king in no case would be reconciled,
unless the other would subscribe to his laws. So the while neither
the king would otherwise agree, nor yet the archbishop in any wise
would subscribe, there was a foul discord; where the fault was, let
the reader here judge between them both. The king for his regal
authority thought it much that any subject of his should stand
against him. The archbishop (bearing himself bold upon the authority,
and especially upon the letters of the pope lately written to him)
thought him strong enough against the king and all his realm. Again,
such was his quarrel for the maintenance of liberties and glory of
the church, that he could lack no setters-on and favourers in that
behalf in so sweet a cause amongst the clergy. Wherefore the
archbishop (trusting to these things) would give no place, but, by
virtue of his apostolical authority, gave censure upon these laws and
constitutions of the king, condemning some, and other some approving
for good and catholic, as is before declared. Besides this, there
came also to the king Rotrodus, archbishop of Rothomage, (sent from
the pope,) to make peace between the king and Canterbury; whereunto
the king was well content, so that the pope would agree to ratify his
ordinances. But when that could in no wise be obtained at the pope's
hands, then the king being stopped and frustrate of his purpose by
reason of Becket's apostolic legacy, (being Legatus a latere,)
thought good to send up to the pope, and so did, to obtain of him,
that the same authority of the apostolic legacy might be conferred to
another after his appointment, which was the archbishop of York; but
the pope denied. Notwithstanding, at the request of the king's
clergy, the pope was content that the king should be legate himself;
whereat the king took great indignation, (as Hoveden writeth,) so
that he sent the pope his letters again. Here the pope was perplexed
on both sides.

If he should have denied the king, that was too hot for him; for the
pope useth always to hold in with kings, howsoever the world
speedeth. Again, if he should have forsaken such a churchly chaplain,
(the cause being so sweet and gainful,) that should have been against
himself. What did he then? Here now cometh in the old practice of
popish prelacy, to play with both hands; privily he conspireth with
the one, and openly dissembleth with the other. First, he granted to
the king's ambassadors their request, to have the legate removed, and
to place in that office the archbishop of York, to his own
contentation; and yet, notwithstanding, (to tender the cause of
Thomas Becket,) he addeth this promise withal, that the said Becket
should receive no harm or damage thereby. Thus the pope, craftily
conveying the matter between them both, gladly to further the
archbishop for his own advantage, and yet loth to deny the king for
displeasure, writeth to the king openly, and also secretly directeth
another letter to Becket; the contents whereof here follow.

Alexander, the pope, to Thomas, archbishop of Canterbury.

"Although we, condescending to the king's request, have granted the
gift of our legacy after his mind from you; yet let not your mind
thereby be discomforted, nor brought into sighs of despair. For
before that we had granted that, or gave our consent thereunto, the
king's ambassadors firmly promised in the word of truth (ready also
to be sworn upon the same, if I would so have required) that their
letters also which he had obtained should not be delivered to the
archbishop of York without our knowledge and consent therein. This is
certain, and so persuade yourself boldly without any scruple, doubt,
or mistrust, that it was never my mind or purpose, nor ever shall be,
(God willing,) to subdue you or your church under the obedience of
any person, to be subject to any, save only to the bishop of Rome.
And therefore we warn you and charge you, that if you shall perceive
the king to deliver these foresaid letters, which we trust he will
not attempt without our knowledge to do, forthwith by some trusty
messengers or by your letters you will give us knowledge thereof;
whereby we may provide upon the same both for your person, your
church, and also your city committed to you, to be clearly exempt, by
our authority apostolical, from all power and jurisdiction of any
legacy."

Upon these letters and such others, (as is said before,) Becket
seemed to take all his boldness to be so stout and sturdy against his
prince as he was. The pope (beside these) sent secretly a chaplain of
his, and directed another letter also unto the king, granting and
permitting, at his request, to make the archbishop of York legate
apostolical.

The king (after he had received his letters sent from the pope) began
to put more strength to his purposed proceedings against the
archbishop, first beginning with the inferiors of the clergy, such as
were offenders against his laws; as felons, robbers, quarrellers,
breakers of peace, and especially such as had committed homicide and
murders, whereof more than a hundred at that time were proved upon
the clergy, urging and constraining them to be arraigned after the
order of the law temporal, and justice to be ministered to them
according to their deserts; as, first, to be deprived, and so to be
committed to the secular bands. This seemed to Becket to derogate
from the liberties of holy church, that the secular power should pass
in causes criminal, or sit in judgment against any ecclesiastical
person. This law the recusants (then of the clergy) had picked and
forged out of Anacletus and Fuaristus, by whose falsely alleged and
pretended authority they have deduced this their constitution from
the apostles, which giveth immunity to all ecclesiastical persons to
be free from secular jurisdiction. Becket, therefore, like a valiant
champion, (fighting for his liberties, and having the pope on his
side,) would not permit his clerks infamed otherwise to be convented
than before ecclesiastical judges, there to be examined and deprived
for their excess, and no secular judge to proceed against them; so
that after their deprivation, if they should incur the like offence
again, then the temporal judge to take hold upon them, otherwise not.
This obstinate and stubborn rebellion of the archbishop stirred up
much anger and vexation in the king, and not only in him, but also in
the nobles and all the bishops, (for the greater part,) that almost
he was alone a wonderment to all the realm.

The king's wrath daily increased more and more against him, (as no
marvel it was,) and caused him to be cited up to appear by a certain
day at the town of Northampton, there to make answer to such things
as should be laid to his charge. So when the day was come, (all the
peers and nobles, with the prelates of the realm, upon the king's
proclamation being assembled in the castle of Northampton,) great 
fault was found with the archbishop, for that he (personally cited to
appear) came not himself; but sent another for him. The cause why he
came not Hovcden assigneth to be this; for that the king had placed
his horse and horsemen in the archbishop's lodging, (which was a
house there of canons,) wherewith he being offended, sent word again
that he would not appear, unless his lodging were voided of the
king's horsemen, &c. Whereupon (by the public sentence as well of all
the nobles as of the bishops) all his movables were adjudged to be
confiscate for the king, unless the king's clemency would remit the
penalty. The stubborn archbishop again (for his part) quarrelling
against the order and form of the judgment, com plaineth, alleging
for himself, (seeing he is the primate, and spiritual father, not
only of all other in the realm, but also of the king himself,) that
it was not convenient that the father should be so judged of his
children, nor the pastor of his flock so condemned; saying, moreover,
that the ages to come should know what judgment was done, &c. But
especially he complaineth of his fellow bishops, (when they should
rather have taken his part,) who did sit in judgment against their
metropolitans. And this was the first day's action.

The next day following the king laid an action against him in the
behalf of one that was his marshal, (called John,) for certain
injuries done to him, and required of the said archbishop the
repaying again of certain money, which he (as is said) had lent unto
him being chancellor, the sum whereof came to five hundred marks.
This money the archbishop denied not but he had received of the king,
howbeit, by the way and title of a gift as he took it, though he
could bring no probation thereof. Where upon the king required him to
put in assurance for the payment thereof; whereat the archbishop
making delays, (not well contented at the matter,) was so called
upon, that either he should be countable to the king for the money,
or else he should incur present danger, the king being so bent
against him. The archbishop being brought to such a strait, and
destitute of his own suffragans, could here by no means have escaped,
had not five persons of their own accord stepped in, being bound for
him, every man for one hundred marks apiece. And this was upon the
second day concluded.

The morrow after, which was the third day of the council, as the
archbishop was sitting below in a certain conclave with his fellow
bishops about him, consulting together, the doors fast locked to
them, as the king had willed and commanded, it was propounded unto
him, in the behalf of the king, that he had divers bishoprics and
abbacies in his band which were vacant, with the fruits and revenues
thereof due unto the king for certain years, whereof he had rendered
as yet no account to the king; wherefore it was demanded of him to
bring in a full and clear reckoning of the same. This, with other
such like, declared to all the council great displeasure to be in the
king, and no less danger to ward the archbishop.

The advice of the bishops for Thomas Becket.

Thus, while the bishops and prelates were in council. advising and
deliberating what was to be done, at length it came to voices, every
man to say his mind, and to give sentence what were the best way for
their archbishop to take. First began Henry, bishop of Winchester,
who then took part with Becket so much as he durst for fear of the
king, who said he remembered that the said archbishop, first being
archdeacon, and then lord chancellor, at what time as he was promoted
to the church of Canterbury, was discharged from all bonds and
reckonings of the temporal court, as all the other bishops could not
but bear record to the same.

Next spake Gilbert, bishop of London, exhorting and motioning the
archbishop, that he should call with himself to mind from whence the
king took him, and set him up, what and how great things he had done
for him; also that he should consider with himself the dangers and
perils of the time, and what ruin he might bring upon the whole
church, (and upon them all there present,) if he resisted the king's
mind in the things he required. And if it were to render up his
archbishopric, (although it were ten times better than it is,) yet he
should not stick with the king in the matter. In so doing it might
happen, the king seeing that submission and humility in him, would
release him peradventure of all the rest. To this the archbishop
answering, Well, well, (saith he,) I perceive well enough, my lord,
whither you tend, and whither about you go. Then spake Winchester,
inferring upon the same: This form of counsel (saith he) seemeth to
me very pernicious to you, very pernicious to the catholic church,
tending to our subversion, and to the confusion of us all. For if our
archbishop and primate of all England do lean to this example, that
every bishop should give over his authority and the charge of the
flock committed to him, at commandment and threatening of the prince;
to what state shall the church he hrought then, but that all should
he confounded at his pleasure and arbitrement, and nothing shall
stand certain by any order of law, and so as the priest is, so shall
the people be?

Hilary, the bishop of Chichester, replieth again to this, saying, If
it were not that the instance and the great perturbation of time did
otherwise require and force us, I would think this counsel here given
were good to be followed. But now seeing the authority of our canon
faileth, and cannot serve us, I judge it not best to go so strictly
to work, but so to moderate our proceedings, that dispensation with
sufferance may win that which severe correction may destroy.
Wherefore my counsel and reason is, to give place to the king's
purpose for a time, lest by over-hasty proceeding we exceed so far,
that both it may redound to our shame, and also we cannot rid our
selves out again when we would.

Much to the same end spake Robert, the bishop of Lincoln, after this
manner: Seeing (saith he) it is manifest that the life and blood of
this man is sought, one of these two must needs be chosen; that
either he must part with his archbishopric, or else with his life.
Now what profit he shall take in this matter of his bishopric, his
life being lost, I do not greatly see.

Next followed Bartholomew, bishop of Exeter, with his advice, who
inclining his counsel to the state of the time, confirmed their
sayings, before, af firming how the days were evil and perilous; and
if they might so escape the violence of that raging tempest under the
cover of bearing and relenting, it were not to be refused. But that,
be said, could not be, except strict severity should give place to
tractability; and so the instance and condition of time then present
required no less, especially seeing that persecution was not general,
but personal and particular; and thought it more holy and convenient
one head to run into some part of danger, than the whole Church of
England to be subject and exposed to inconvenience inevitable.

The answer of Roger, bishop of Worcester, was devised in a double
suspense, neither affirming the one, nor denying the other, whose
saying was this, That he would give answer on neither part; for if I
(saith he) should say that the pastoral function and cure of souls
ought to be relinquished at the king's will or threatening, then my
mouth shall speak against my conscience, to the condemnation of mine
own head. And if I shall give again contrary counsel to resist the
king's sentence, here be they that will hear it, and report it to his
Grace; and so I shall be in danger to be thrust out of the synagogue,
and for my part to be accounted amongst the public rebels, with them
to be condemned: where fore neither do I say this nor counsel that.

And this was the consultation of the bishops in that place, assembled
together by the king's commandment. Against these voices and censures
of the bishops Becket the archbishop replieth again, expostulating
and checking them with rebukeful words. I perceive (saith he) and
understand ye go about to maintain and cherish but your own
cowardliness under the colourable shadow of sufferance, and under
pretence of dissembling softness to choke the liberty of Christ's
church. Who hath thus bewitched you, O unsatiable bishops? What mean
ye? Why do ye so, under the impudent title of forbearing, bear a
double heart, and cloak your manifest iniquity? What call ye this
bearing with time, to the detriment of the church of Christ? Let
terms serve the matter. Why pervert you the matter that is good with
vocables and terms untrue? For that ye say we must bear with the
malice of time, I grant with you; but yet we must not heap sin to
sin. Is not God able to help the state and condition of his church,
but with the sinful dissimulation of the teachers of the church?
Certes, God is disposed to tempt you. And tell me, (I pray you,)
whether should the governors of the church put themselves to dangers
for the church in time of tranquillity, or in time of distress? Ye
will be ashamed to deny the contrary, but in distress. And now, then,
(the church lying in so great distress and vexation,) why should not
the good pastor put himself into peril therefore? For neither do I
think it a greater act or merit for the ancient bishops of the old
time to lay the foundation of the church then with their blood, than
now for to shed our blood for the liberties of the same. And, to tell
you plain, I think it not safe for you to swerve from an example
which you have received of your holy elders. After these things were
spoken, they sat all in silence a certain space, being locked in to
gether. At length, (to find a shift to cause the door to be opened,)
I will (saith the archbishop) speak with two earls which are about
the king; and named them who they were; who being called opened the
door and came in with haste, thinking to hear something which should
appease the king's mind. To whom the archbishop spake in this manner:
As touching and concerning the matters between the king and us, we
have here conferred together. And forasmuch as we have them not
present with us now, which knew more in the matter than we do, and
whose advice we would be glad to follow, therefore we crave so much
respite as till the next day following, and then to give our answer
unto the king. With this message two bishops were sent to the king,
which were the bishop of London and the bishop of Rochester.

London, to help the matter, and to set quietness, as I take it,
adding something more to the message, said to the king, that the
archbishop craved a little delay of time to prepare such writings and
instruments, wherein he should set forth and declare his mind in
accomplishing the king's desire, &c. Wherefore two barons were sent
to him from the king to grant him that respite or stay; so that he
should ratify that which the messengers had signified to the king. To
which the archbishop answereth, that he sent no message as was
intimated in his name; but only that the next day he would come and
give answer to the king, in that which he had to say. And so the
convocation of the bishops was dissolved and dismissed home; so that
the most part of them that came with the archbishop, and accompanied
him before (for fear of the king's displeasure,) severed themselves
from him. The archbishop, thus forsaken and destitute, (as his story
saith,) sent about for the poor, the lame, and the halt, to come in
and furnish his house, saying, that by them he might sooner obtain
his victory, than by the others which had so slipped from him.

On the next day following, because it was Sunday, nothing was done.
So the day after the archbishop was cited to appear. But the night
before being taken with a disease called passio iliaca, the colic, on
that day he kept bed, and was not able, as he said, to rise. Every
man supposing this to be but a feigned sickness, as it seemed no
less, certain of the chief nobles were sent to try the matter, and to
cite him to the court; namely, Robert, earl of Leicester, and
Reginald, earl of Devonshire. To whom the archbishop an swered, that
on that day he was so diseased, that he could not come, yea, though
he were brought in a horse litter. So that day passed over. The
morrow after, certain that were about him, fearing no less but that
some danger would happen to him, gave him counsel in the morning to
have a mass in the honour of the holy martyr St. Stephen, to keep him
from the hands of his enemies that day. When the morrow was come,
(being Tuesday,) there came to him the bishops and prelates,
counselling and persuading him covertly by insinuation, (for openly
they durst not,) that he would submit himself with all his goods, (as
also his archbishopric,) to the will of the king, if peradventure his
indignation by that means might assuage. Adding moreover, that unless
he would so do, perjury would be laid against him; for that he being
under the oath of fidelity to keep the king's laws and ordinances,
now would not observe them. To this Becket the archbishop answereth
again, Brethren, ye see and perceive well how the world is set
against me, and how the enemy riseth and seeketh my confusion. And
although these things be dolorous and lamentable, yet the thing that
grieveth me most of all is this; The sons of mine own mother be
pricks and thorns against me. And albeit I do hold my peace, yet the
posterity to come will know and report how cowardly you have turned
your backs, and have left your archbishop and metropolitan alone in
his conflict, and how you have sitten in judgment against me
(although unguilty of crime) now two days together, and not only in
the civil and spiritual court, but also in the temporal court ready
to do the same. But, in general, this I charge and command, (as the
virtue of pure obedience, and in peril of your order,) that ye be
present personally in judgment against me. And, that ye shall not
fail so to do, I here appeal to our mother, (the refuge of all such
as be oppressed,) the Church of Rome; and if any secular men shall
lay hands upon me, (as it is rumoured they will,) I straitly enjoin
and charge you, in the same virtue of obedience, that you exercise
your censure ecclesiastical upon them, as it becometh you to do for a
father and an archbishop. And this I do you to understand, that
though the world rage, and the enemy be fierce, and the body
trembleth, (for the flesh is weak,) yet God so fasouring me, I will
neither cowardly shrink, nor yet vilely forsake my flock committed to
my charge, &c.

But the bishop of London, contrary to this comxnandment of the
archbishop, did incontinent appeal from him. And thus the bishops
departed from him to the court, save only two, Henry of Winchester,
and Joceline of Salisbury, who returned with him secretly to his
chamber, and comforted him. This done, the archbishop (which
yesterday was so sore sick that he could not stir out of his bed) now
addresseth him to his mass of St. Stephen with all solemnity, as
though it had been a high festival day, with his metropolitan pall,
which was not used but upon the holy day to be worn, &c. The office
of the mass began, Princes sat and spake against me, &c. (the king's
servants being also there, and beholding the matter). For this mass
Gilbert, bishop of London, accused Becket afterward, both for that it
was done both by art of magic, and in contempt of the king, &c.

The mass being ended, the archbishop (putting off his pall, his
mitre, and other robes) proceedeth to the kings court; but yet not
trusting, peradventure, so greatly to the strength of his mass, (to
make the matter more sure,) he taketh also the sacrament privily
about him, thinking himself thereby sufficiently defended against all
bugs. In going to the king's chamber, (there to attend the King's
coming,) as he entered the door, he taketh from Alexander his
crosier, the cross with the cross staff, in the sight of all that
stood by, and carrieth it in himself, the other bishops following
him, and saying he did otherwise than became him. Amongst others,
Robert, bishop of Hereford, offered himself to bear his cross, rather
than he should so do, for that was not comely; but the archbishop
would not suffer him. Then said the bishop of London unto him, If the
king shall see you come armed into his chamber, perchance he will
draw out his sword against you, which is stronger than yours, and
then what shall this your account profit you? The archbishop
answereth again, If the king's sword do cut carnally, yet my sword
cutteth spiritually, and striketh down to hell. But you, my lord, as
you have played the fool in this matter, so you will not yet leave
off your folly for any thing I can see: and so he came into the
chamber. The king hearing of his coming, and of the manner thereof,
tarried not long, but came where Becket was set in a place by himself
with his other bishops about him. First, the crier called the
prelates and all the lords of the temporalty together. That being
done, (and every one placed in his seat according to his degree,) the
king beginneth with a great complaint against the archbishop for his
manner of entering into the court, not as (saith he) a subject into a
king's court, but as a traitor, showing himself in such sort as hath
not been seen before in any Christian king's court professing
Christian faith. To this all there present gave witness with the
king, affirming him always to be a vain and proud man, and that the
shame of his fact did not only redound against the prince himself,
but also against his whole realm. Moreover, they said that this had
so happened to the king, for that he had done so much for such a
beast, advancing him so highly to such a place and room next under
himself. And so all together with one cry called him traitor on every
side, as one that refused to give terrene honour to the king, in
keeping (as he had sworn) his laws and ordinances, at whose hands
also he had received such honour and great preferments; and therefore
he was well worthy (said they) to be handled like a perjured traitor
and rebel. Whereupon great doubt and fear was what should befall him.
The archbishop of York, coming down to his men, said he could not
abide to see what the archbishop of Canterbury was like to suffer.
Likewise the tipstaves, and other ministers of the assembly, coming
down with an outcry against him, crossed them to see his haughty
stubbornness, and the business there was about him. Certain there
were of his disciples sitting at his feet, comforting him softly, and
bidding him to lay his curse upon them. Others (contrary) bidding him
not to curse, but to pray and forgive them; and if he lost his life
in the quarrel of the church, and the liberty thereof, he should be
happy. Afterward, one of them, named Johannes Stephani, desired to
speak something in his ear, but could not be suffered by the kings
marshal, who forbade that any man should have any talk with him. Then
he (because he could not otherwise speak to him) wrought by signs,
making a cross, and looking up with his eyes, and wagging his lips,
meaning that he should pray, and manfully stand to the cause. In the
mean time cometh to him Bartholomew, bishop of Exeter, desiring him
to have regard and compassion of himself, and also of them, or else
they were all like to perish for the hatred of him; for there cometh
out (saith he) a precept from the king that he shall be taken, and
suffer for an open rebel, that hereafter taketh your part. It is
said, moreover, that Jocelinus, bishop of Salisbury, and William,
bishop of Norwich, are to be had to the place of execution, for their
resisting and making intercession for the bishop of Canterbury. When
he had thus said, the archbishop, (looking upon the said bishop of
Exeter,) Avoid hence from me, saith he: thou understandest not,
neither dost savour, those things that be of God.

The bishops and prelates then going aside by themselves from the
other nobles, the king so permitting them to do,. took counsel
together what was to be done. ere the matter stood in a doubtful
perplexity; for either must they incur the dangerous indignation of
the king, or else with the nobles they must proceed in condemnation
against the archbishop for resisting the king's sanctions which thing
they themselves neither did favour. In this strict necessity, they,
devising what way to take, at length agreed upon this; that they with
a common assent should cite the archbishop to the see of Rome upon
perjury; and that they should oblige and bind themselves to the king
with a sure promise to work their diligence in deposing the
archbishop, upon this condition, that the king should promise their
safety, and discharge them from the peril of that judgment which was
towards them. So all the bishops, obliging themselves thus to the
king, went forth to the archbishop; of whom one, speaking for the
rest, (which was Hilary, bishop of Chichester,) had these words: Once
you have been our archbishop, and so long we were bound to your
obedience; but now forasmuch as you, once swearing your fidelity to
the king, do resist him, neglecting his injunctions and ordinances,
concerning and appertaining to his terrene honour and dignity, we
here pronounce you perjured, neither be we bound to give obedience to
an archbishop thus being perjured; but, putting our selves and all
ours in the pope's protection, we do cite you up to his presence. And
upon the same they assigned him his day and time to appear. The
archbishop answering again, said he heard him well enough, and upon
this sendeth up to Rome in all haste to the pope, signifying to him
by letters the whole matter, how, and wherefore, and by whom he was
cited; to whom the pope directed again his letters of comfort (as he
had done divers before).

As the archbishop was cited to Rome, sitting with his cross waiting
in the court, neither giving place to the king's request, nor abashed
with the clamour of the whole court against him, calling him traitor
on every side, neither following the advertisement of his fellow
bishops, at length the king, by certain earls and barons, sent
commandment to him, (Robert, earl of Leicester, doing the message,)
that he should without delay come and render a full account of all
things that he had received, as the profits and revenues of the
realm, in the time he was chancellor, and specially for the thirty
thousand marks for the which he was accountable to the king. To whom
the archbishop answereth again, The king knew how oft he had made his
reckoning of those things which now were required of him. Further and
besides, Henry, his son and heir of his realm, with all his barons,
and also Richard Lucy, chief justice of England, told him, that he
was free and quit to God and to holy church from all receipts and
computations, and from all secular exactions on the king's behalf.
And so he, taking thus his discharge at their hands, entered into his
office; and therefore other account besides this he would make none.
When this word was brought to the king, he required his barons to do
the law upon him; who, so doing, judged him to be apprehended and
laid in prison. This done, the king sendeth to him Reginald, earl of
Cornwall and Devonshire, and Robert, earl of Leicester, to declare to
him what was his judgment. To whom the archbishop answereth, Hear, my
son and good earl, what I say unto you; how much more precious the
soul is than the body, so much more ought you to obey me in the Lord
rather than your terrene king. Neither doth any law or reason permit
the children to judge or condemn their father. Wherefore, to avoid
both the judgment of the king, of you, and all others, I put myself
only to the arbitrement of the pope, under God alone to be judged of
him, and of no other; to whose presence here before you all I do
appeal, committing the ordering of the church of Canterbury, my
dignity, with all other things appertaining to the same, under the
protection of God and him. And as for you, my brethren and fellow
bishops, which rather obey man than God, you also I call and cite to
the audience and judgment of the pope, and depart henceforth from
you, as from the enemies of the Catholic Church, and of the authority
of the apostolic see.

While the barons returned with this answer to the king, the
archbishop passing through the throng taketh unto him his palfrey,
holding his cross in one hand, and his bridle in the other, the
courtiers following after, and crying, Traitor, traitor, tarry and
hear thy judgment. But he passed on till he came to the uttermost
gate of the court, which being fast locked, there he had been staid,
had not one of his servants called Peter, surnamed Demunctorio,
finding there a bunch of keys hanging by, first proved one key, then
another, till at last, finding the true key, he had opened the gate,
and let him out. The archbishop went straight to the house of canons,
where he did lie, calling unto him the poor, where they could be
found. When supper was done, making as though he would go to bed,
which he caused to be made betwixt two altars, privily, while the
king was at supper, he prepareth his journey secretly to escape away;
and changing his garment and his name, being called Derman, first
went to Lincoln, from thence to Sandwich, where he took ship, and
sailed into Flanders, and from thence journeyed into France, as
Hovedenus saith. Albeit Alanus, differing something in the order of
his flight, saith, that he departed not that night; but at supper
time came to him the bishops of London and Chichester, declaring to
him, that if he would surrender up to the king his two manors of
Otford and Wingcham, there were hope to recover the king's favour,
and to have all remitted. But when the archbishop would not agree
therennto, forsomnch as those manors were belonging to the church of
Canterbury, the king bearing thereof, great displeasure was taken,
insomuch that the next day Becket was fain to send to the king two
bishops and his chaplain for leave to depart the realm. To the which
message the king answered, that he would take pause there of till the
next day, and then he should have an answer. But Becket, not tarrying
his answer, the same day conveyed himself away secretly, as is
aforesaid, to Ludovicus the French king. But before he came to the
king, Gilbert, the bishop of London, and William, the earl of
Arundel, sent from the king of England to France, prevented him;
requiring the said French king, in the behalf of the king of England,
that he would not receive, nor retain in his dominion, the archbishop
of Canterbury. Moreover, that at his instance he would be a means to
the pope not to show any familiarity unto him. But the king of
England in this point seemed to have more confidence in the French
king than knowledge of his disposition. For thinking that the French
king would have been a good neighbour to him, in trusting him too
much he was deceived. Neither considered he with himself enough the
manner and nature of the Frenchmen at that time against the realm of
England; who then were glad to seek and take all manner of occasions
to do some act against England.

And therefore Ludovic, the French king, understanding the matter, and
thinking (perhaps) thereby to have some vantage against the king and
realm of England, by the occasion hereof, contrary to the king's
letters and request, not only harboureth and cherisheth this Derman,
but also (suiting to the pope by his almoner and brother) entreateth
him (upon all loves, as ever he would have his favour) to tender the
cause of the Archbishop Becket. Thus the king's ambassadors, repulsed
of the French king, returned; at what time he sent another embassage
(upon the like cause) to Alexander the pope, then being at Sene in
France. The ambassadors sent on this message were Roger, archbishop
of York, Gilbert, bishop of London, Henry, bishop of Winchester,
Hilary, bishop of Chiehester, Bartholomew, bishop of Exeter, with
other doctors and clerks; al so William, earl of Arundel, with
certain more lords and barons; who, coming to the pope's court were
friendly accepted of certain of the cardinals; amongst the which
cardinals rose also dissension about the same cause. Some judging
that the bishop of Canterbury in the defence of the liberties of the
church, as in a good cause, was to be maintained. Some thinking
again, that he (being a perturber of peace and unity) was rather to
be bridled for his presumption, than to be fostered and encouraged
therein. But the pope, partly bearing with his cause, (which only
tended to his exaltation and magnificence,) partly again incensed
with the letters of the French king, did wholly incline to Becket, as
no marvel was. Wherefore the next day following, the pope sitting in
consistory with his cardinals, the ambassadors were called for to the
hearing of Becket's matter; and first beginneth the bishop of London;
next, the archbishop of York; then Exeter; and the other bishops
every one in their order to speak. Whose orations being not well
accepted of the pope, and some of them also disdained, the earl of
Arundel perceiving that, tried to qualify and temper the matter to
the pope's ears.

His oration, although it was liked of them for the softness and
moderation thereof, yet it could not so persuade the Romish bishop to
condescend to their suit and request; which suit was, to have two
legates or arbiters to be sent from his popish side into England, to
examine and take up the controversy between the king and the
archbishop. But the pope, incensed, as is said before, would not
grant to their petition, forsomuch as it should be (saith he)
prejudicial, and tending to the oppression of the archbishop, to
grant unto it, he being not present. And therefore he willed them to
tarry his coming up; otherwise, he being absent, he would not (he
said) in any case proceed against him. But they, alleging again their
time to be expired appointed unto them of the king, having besides
other lets and causes, as they alleged, said that they could not
there wait for the coming of Becket, but returned back, their cause
frustrated, without the pope's blessing to the king. Within four days
after, Becket cometh to the popes court, where he, prostrating
himself at his feet, brought out of his bosom a scroll containing the
customs and ordinances of the king, before mentioned. The pope
receiving the foresaid scroll, and reading it in the open hearing of
his cardinals, condemned and accursed the most part of the said
decrees of the king, which he called consuetudines avitas, that is.
his grandfather's ordinances. Besides this, the pope moreover blameth
Beeket, for that he so much yielded to them at the beginning as he
did; yet notwithstanding (because he was repentant for his unadvised
fact he was content to absolve him for the same, and the rather
because of his great troubles, which he for the liberties of holy
church did sustain; and so with great favour for that day dismissed
him.

The next day (Alexander the pope assembling his cardinals together in
his secret chamber) appeareth before them Archbishop Becket, having
this oration to the pope and his popelings, which here I thought to
set out in our vulgar English tongue, (translated out of Latin.) to
the intent that the posterity hereafter may understand either the
vain superstition or vile slavery of the churchmen in those days,
who, being not contented with their own natural prince and king given
them of God, must seek further to the pope; thinking no
ecclesiastical living to be given which is not taken at his hands.
The words of his oration be storied rightly thus.

The oration of Becket resigning his bishopric to the pope.

"Fathers and lords, I ought not to lie in any place, much less before
God, and in your presence here. Wherefore with much sighing and
sorrow of heart, I grant and confess, that these perturbationsof the
Church of England be raised through my miserable fault. For I entered
into the fold of Christ, but not by the door of Christ; for that not
the canonical election did call me lawfully thereunto, but terror of
public power drove me in. And albeit I against my will took this
burden upon me; yet not the will of God, but man's pleasure, placed
me in the room. And therefore no marvel, though all things have gone
contrary and backward with me. And as for the resigning up again
thereof, if I had so done, and given up to their hands the privilege
of my bishoply authority, which I had granted to me at the
commandment of the king, (so as my fellow bishops did instantly call
upon me to do,) then had I left a pernicious and dangerous example to
the whole Catholic Church. By reason whereof I thought to defer that
unto your presence. And now therefore, (recognising with myself my
ingress not to be canonical, and therefore fearing it to have the
worse end; and again pondering my strength and ability not to be
sufficient for such a charge,) lest I should be found to sustain that
room to the ruin of the flock, to whom I was appointed a pastor
unworthy, I render up to your fatherly hands the archbishopric here
of Canterbury," &c. And so, putting off his ring from his finger, and
offering it to the pope, he desired a bishop for the church of
Canterbury to be provided; seeing he thought not himself meet to
fulfil the same, and so with tears, as the story saith, he ended his
oration.

This done, the archbishop was bid to stand apart. The pope conferring
upon this with his cardinals, about the resignation of Becket, what
was best to be done: some thought it best to take the occasion
offered, thinking thereby the king's wrath might easily be assuaged,
if the church of Canterbury were assigned to some other person; and
yet the said Becket otherwise to be provided for notwithstanding.
Contrary, others again thought otherwise, and their reason was, If
he, which for the liberties of the church had ventured not only his
goods, dignity, and authority, but also his life, should now at the
king's pleasure be deprived; like as it might be a precedent
hereafter to others in resisting their king in like sort, if this
cause were maintained; so, contrariwise, if it quailed, it should be
an example to all others hereafter, none to resist his prince in the
like case. And so might it redound not only to the weakening of the
state of the Catholic Church, but also to the derogation of the
pope's authority. Briefly, this sentence at length prevailed; and so
Becket receiveth his pastoral office of the pope's hand again, with
commendation and much favour. But forsomuch as he could not be well
placed in England, in the mean while the pope sendeth him with a
monk's habit into the abbey of Pontiniake in France, where he
remained two years;
 from thence he removed to Senod, where he abode five years. So the
time of his exile continued seven years in all, &c.

Upon this, the king being certified by his ambassadors of the pope's
answer, how his favour inclined more to Becket than to him, was moved
(and worthily) with wrathful displeasure. Who upon the same sailing
from England unto Normandy, directed over certain injunctions against
the pope, and the archbishop of Canterbury, as were recited afore.
The contents whereof were declared to be these:

If any person should be found to bring from the pope, or from the
archbishop of Canterbury, &c.

Besides these and such-like injunctions, it was al so set forth by
the king's proclamation, A.D. 1166, that all manner of persons, both
men and women, whosoever were found of the kindred of Thomas Becket,
should be exiled, without taking any part of their goods with them,
and sent to him where he was; which was no little vexation to Becket
to be hold them. Moreover, forsomuch as he then was lying with
Gwarine, abbot of Pontiniake, to whom the pope, as is aforesaid, had
commended him; therefore the king, writing to the same abbot,
required him not to retain the archbishop of Canter bury in his
house; for if he did, he would drive out of his realm all the monks
of his order. Where upon Becket was enforced to remove from thence,
and went to Lewis the French king, by whom he was placed at Senon,
and there found of him the space of five years, as is above
mentioned.

In the mean time, messengers went daily with letters between the king
and the pope, between the pope again and him, and so between the
archbishop and others.

Besides an epistle sent unto the pope, he writeth also another
letter, sent to the king in Latin.

Besides which epistle to the king in Latin, he sent also one or two
more to the said King Henry the Second, much after the like rate and
sort. Which epistles, for that I would not overcharge the volume of
these histories with too much matter superfluous, I thought here to
omit.

Besides the letters of the archbishop sent to the king, the pope also
in the same cause writeth to the king. The whole tenor of the letter
as he wrote it to the king I would here express, but for protracting
of the time and straitness of room, having so many things else in
this story (by the grace of Christ) to be comprehended. But the
letter tendeth to this effect, to exhort and charge the king to show
favour to Thomas Becket. Where, in the process of the epistle, it
followeth in these words: "Therefore we do desire, monish, and exhort
your honour by these our apostolical writings, and also enjoin you
upon the remission of your sins, in the behalf of Almighty God, and
of St. Peter, prince of the apostles, by our aufhority, that you will
receive again the foresaid archbishop into your favour and grace, for
the honour of God, his church, and of your own realm," &c.

But to proceed further in the order of the history. After letters
sent to and fro, the year of our Lord 1169, which was the fifteenth
year of the reign of King Henry the Second, the king, misdoubting and
fearing with himself that the archbishop would proceed (or exceed
rather) in his excommunication against his own person, (to prevent
the mischief,) made his appeal to the presence of the pope, requiring
to have certain legates sent down from Rome from the pope's side, to
take up the matter between the archbishop and him; requiring moreover
that they might also be absolved that were interdicted. Whereupon two
cardinals, being sent from Alexander the pope with letters to the
king, came to Normandy, where they appointed the archbishop to meet
them before the king upon St. Martin's day. But the archbishop,
neither agreeing with the day nor the place, delayed his coming till
the eighth day after, neither would go any further than to
Grisortium, where the two cardinals and the archbishop, with other
bishops conventing,together, had a certain entreaty of peace and
reconciliation; but it came to no conclusion.

When that William (who of the two cardinals was the more eloquent)
amongst other communication had reasoned long with him as concerning
the peace of the church, which Becket said he preferred above all
things, Well then, (saith the cardinal,) seeing all this contention
between the king and you riseth upon certain laws and customs to be
abrogate, and that you regard the peace of the church so much, then
what say you? Will you renounce your bishopric, and the king shall
renounce his customs? The peace of the church now lieth in your
hands, either to retain or to let go; what say you? To whom he
answereth again, that the proportion was not like. For I, saith he,
(saving the honour of my church and my person,) cannot renounce my
bishopric. Contrary, it standeth the king upon, for his soul's health
and honour, to renounce these his ordinances and customs. Which thing
he thus proved; because the pope had condemned those customs, and he
likewise with the Church of Rome had done the same, &c.

The talk between the French king, the king of England, and Becket.

After the cardinals were returned, the French king, seeing the king
of England disquieted and solicitous to have peace, (or at leastwise
pretending to set an agreement between them,) brought the matter to a
communication among them. In which communication the French king made
himself as umpire between them. The king of England, hearing that the
archbishop would commit himself to his arbitrement, was the more
willing to admit his presence. Whereupon, many being there present,
the archbishop, prostrating himself at the king's feet, declared unto
him, kneeling upon his knees, that he would commit the whole cause,
whereof the dissension rose between them, unto his own arbitrement;
adding thereto (as he did before) Salvo honore Dei, that is, Saving
the honour of God. The king (as is said before) being greatly
offended at this word, hearing and seeing the stiffness of the man
sticking so much to this word Salvo honore, &c., was highly therewith
displeased, rebuking him with many grievous words, as a man proud and
stubborn, and also charging him with sundry and great benefits
bestowed upon him, as a person unkind, and forgetting what he had so
gently done and bestowed upon him.

And speaking to the French king there present, See sir, (if it please
you, saith the king of England,) whatsoever displeaseth this man,
that he saith to be contrary to the honour of God. And so by this
means he will vindicate and challenge to himself both that is his and
mine also. And yet notwithstanding, for that I will not seem to do
any thing contrary or prejudical to God's honour, this I offer him:
There have been kings in England before, both of greater and less
puissance than I am; likewise there have been bishops of Canterbury,
many both great and holy men; what the greatest and most holy of all
his predecessors before him hath done to the least of my progenitors
and predecessors before me, let him do the same to me, and I am
content. They that stood by, hearing these words of the king, cried
all with one voice, The king hath debased himself enough to the
bishop. The archbishop staying a little at this with silence, What,
(saith the French king to him,) my lord archbishop, will you be
better than those holy men? will ye be greater than Peter? what stand
you doubting? Here now have you peace and quietness put in your own
hands, if ye will take it. To this the archbishop answered again,
Truth it is (saith he) my predecessors before me were both better and
greater than I, and every one of them for his time, (although they
did not extirpate and cut off all,) yet something they did pluck up
and correct, which seemed adverse and repugnant against God's honour.
For if they had taken all together away, no such occasion then had
been left for any man to raise up this fire of temptation now against
us, as is here raised to prove us withal; that we being so proved
with them, might also be crowned with them, being likewise partakers
of praise and reward, as we are of their labour and travail. And
though some of them have been slack, or exceeded in their duty doing,
in that we are not bound to follow their example.

Peter, when he denied Christ, we therefore rebuke him; but when he
resisted the rage of Nero, therein we commend him. And therefore,
because he could not find in his conscience to consent unto that, he
ought in no wise to dissemble, neither did he; by reason thereof he
lost his life. By such-like oppressions the church hath always grown.
Our forefathers and predecessors, because they would not dissemble
the name and honour of Christ, therefore they suffered. And shall I,
to have the favour of one man, suffer the honour of Christ to be
suppressed? The nobles standing by (hearing him thus speak) were
greatly grieved with him, noting in him both arrogancy and
wilfulness, in perturbing and refusing such an honest offer of
agreement. But specially one among the rest was most grieved, who
there openly protested, that seeing the archbishop so refused the
counsel and request of both the kingdoms, he was not worthy to have
the help of either of them; but as the kingdom of England had
rejected him, so the realm of France should not receive him.

Alanus Herbertus, and certain other of his chaplains that committed
to story the doings of Beeket, do record, (whether truly or no I
cannot say,) that the French king sending for him, as one much
sorrowing and lamenting the words that he had spoken, at the coming
of Becket did prostrate hhnself at his feet; confessing his fault, in
giving counsel to him in such a cause, (pertaining to the honour of
God,) to relent therein and to yield to the pleasure of man;
wherefore, declaring his repent ance, he desired to be absolved
thereof. So that after this the French king and Becket were great 
friends together; insomuch that King Henry sending to the king to
entreat him, and desire him that he would not support nor maintain
his enemy within his realm, the French king utterly denied the king's
request, taking part rather with the archbishop than with him.

Besides these quarrels and grudges betwixt the king and the
archbishop above mentioned, there followed yet moreover another,
which was this: Shortly after this conununication recited between the
king and Becket, the king of England returned again from Normandy
into England (which was the year of our Lord 1170, and the sixteenth
year of his reign) about Midsummer, kept his court of parliament at
Westminster; in the which parliament he, through the assent both of
the clergy and the lords temporal, caused his son Henry to be crowned
king. Which coronation was done by the hands of Robert, archbishop of
York, with the assistance of other bishops ministering to the same,
as Gilbert of London,.loseline of Salisbury, Hugo of Duresme, and
Walter of Rochester. By reason whereof Becket, of Canterbury, being
there neither mentioned nor called for, took no little displeasure;
and so did Ludovic, the French king, hearing that Margaret his
daughter was not also crowned with her husband; whereupon he,
gathering a great army, forthwith marched into Normandy. But the
matter was soon conpassed by the king of England, who sending his son
unto him in Normandy, entreated there and concluded peace with him,
promising that his son should be crowned again, and then his daughter
should be crowned also. But the archbishop, not ceasing his
displeasure and emulation, sent unto the pope, complaining of these
four bishops, especially of the archbishop of York; who durst be so
bold in his absence, and without his knowledge of his licence, to
intermeddle to crown the king, being a matter proper and peculiar to
his jurisdiction. At the instance of whom the pope sent down the
sentence of excommunication against the bishop of London. The other
three bishops with the archbishop of York he suspended, whose
sentence and letters thereof, for avoiding prolixity, I here omit.

Besides these foresaid bishops excommunicated, divers other clerks
also of the court he cited to appear before him, by virtue of his
large commission which he gat from the pope, to whom they were bound
to obey, by reason of their bencfices. And some he commanded in
virtue of obedience to appear, in pain of forfeiting their orders and
benefices. Of which, when neither sort would appear, he cursed them
openly. And also some laymen of the court and the king's familiars
(as intruders and violent withholders of church goods) he accursed;
as Richard Lucy, and Joseline Balliot, and Ralph Brook, which took
bells and goods that belonged to the church of Canterbury; and Hugh
Sentcleare, and Thomas the son of Bernard, and all that should
hereafter take any church goods without his consent; so that almost
all the court was accursed, either by name, or as partakers.

This being done, the archbishop of York with the foresaid bishops
resorted to the king with a grievous complaint, declaring how
miserably their case stood, and what they had sustained for
fulfilling his commandment. The king, hearing this, was highly moved,
as no marvel was. But what remedy? The time of the ruin of the pope
was not yet come; and what prince then might withstand the injurious
violence of that Romish potestate?

In the mean season the French king, for his part, his clergy and
courtiers likewise, slack no occasion to incite and solicit Alexander
the pope against the king of England to excommunicate him also;
seeking thereby and thinking to have some vantage against the realm.
Neither was the king ignorant of this, which made him more ready to
apply some agreement of reconciliation. At length came down from the
pope two legates, (the archbishop of Rothomage and the bishop of
Navern,) with direction and full comission either to drive the king
to be reconciled, or to be interdicted by the pope's censures out of
the church. The king, understanding himself to be in greater straits
than he could avoid, at length (through the mediation of the French
king and of other prelates and great princes) was content to yield to
peace and reconciliation with the archbishop, whom he received both
to his favour, and also permitted and granted him free return to his
church again. Concerning his possessions and lands of the church of
Canterbury, although Becket made great labour therefore, yet the king
(being then in Normandy) would not grant him them, before he should
repair to England, to see how he would there agree with his subjects.

Thus peace after a sort concluded between the king and him, the
archbishop, after six years of his banishment, returned to England,
where he was right joyfully received of the church of Canterbury;
albeit of Henry the young king he was not so great ly welcomed.
Insomuch that, coming up to London to the king, he was returned back
to Canterbury, and there hid to keep his house. Roger Hoveden maketh
mention in his chronicle, that the archbishop (upon Christmas day)
did excommunicate Robert de Brooke for cutting off the tail of a
certain horse of his the day before. In the mean time, the four
bishops before mentioned, whom the archbishop had excommunicated,
sent to him, humbly desiring to be released of their censure. To whom
when the archbishop would not grant clearly and simply without
cautions and exceptions, they went over to the king, declaring unto
him and complaining of their miserable state and uncourteous handling
of the archbishop. Whereupon the king conceived great sorrow in his
mind, and displeasure toward the party. Insomuch that he lamented oft
and sundry times to them about him, that (amongst so many that he had
done for) there was none that would revenge him of his enemy. By
occasion of which words, certain that were about the king, (to the
number of four,) hearing him thus to complain and lament, addressed
themselves in great heat of haste to satisfy the grieved mind and
quarrel of their prince; who within four days after the said
Christmas day (sailing over into England, and having a forward and
prosperous wind in their journey, being in the deep of winter) came
to Canterbury, where Becket was commanded to keep. After certain
advisements and consultations had among themselves, they pressed at
length into the palace, where the archbishop was sitting with his
company about him, first to assay him with words, to see whether he
would relent to the king's mind, and come to some conformity. They
brought to him (said they) commandment from the king. which whether
he had rather openly there in presence. or secretly to be declared to
him, they bade him choose. Then the company being bid to avoid, as he
sat alone, they said, You are commanded from the king beyond the sea
to repair to the king his son here, and to do your duty to him,
swearing to him your fidelity for your baronage and other things, and
to amend those things wherein you have trespassed against him.
Whereupon the archbishop, denying to swear, and perceiving their
intent, called in his company again, and in multiplying of words to
and fro, at length they came to the bishops which were excommunicated
forthe coronation of the king. whom they commanded in the king's name
he should absolve and set free again. The archbishop answered that he
neither suspended nor excommunicated them, but the pope; wherefore,
if that were the matter that grieved them, they should resort to the
pope, he had nothing to do with the matter.

Then said Reginald, one of the four, Although you in your own person
did not excommunicate them, yet through your instigation it was done.
To whom the archbishop said again, And if the pope, (said he,)
tendering the injuries done unto me and my church, wrought this
revenge for me, I confess it offendeth me nothing. Thus then (said
they) it appeareth well by your own words, that it pleaseth you right
well (in contempt and contumely of the king's majesty) to sequester
his bishops from their ministry, who at the commandment of the king
did service in the coronation of his son. And seeing you have so
presumed thus to stand against the exaltation of this our sovereign,
our new king, it seemeth likely that you aspired to take his crown
from him, and to be exalted king yourself. I aspire not (said he) to
the crown and name of the king, but rather if I had four crowns, (to
give him more,) I would set them all upon him; such good will I do
bear him, that, only his father the king excepted, there is none
whose honour I more tender and love. And as concerning the
sequestering of those bishops, this I give you to understand, that
nothing was done in that behalf without the knowledge and assent of
the king himself; to whom when I had made my complaint, at the feast
of Mary Magdalene, of the wrong and injury done to me and my church
therein, he gave me his good leave to obtain at the pope's hand such
remedy as I could, premising moreover his help to me in the same.
What is this, quoth they, that thou sayest? Makest thou the king a
traitor, and a betrayer of the king's own son? that when he had
commanded the bishops to crown his son, he would give thee leave
afterward to suspend them for so doing? Certes, it had been better
for you not to have accused so the king of this prodition. The
archbishop said to Reginald, that he was there present at that time,
and heard it himself. But that he denied, and swore it was not so.
And think you (say they) that we the king's subjects will or ought to
suffer this? And so approaching nearer him, they said he had spoken
enough against his own head; where upon followed great exclamation
and many threatening words. Then said the archbishop, I have since my
coming over sustained many injuries and rebukes, concerning both
myself, my men, my cattle, my wines, and all other goods;
notwithstanding, the king (writing over to his son) required him that
I should live in safety and peace; and now, beside all others, you
come hither to threaten me. To this Reginald answering again, said,
If there be any that worketh you any injury otherwise than right is,
the law is open; why do you not com plain? To whom, said Becket,
should I complain? To the young king, said they. Then said Becket, I
have complained enough if that would help, and have sought for remedy
at the king's hands, so long as I could be suffered to come to his
speech; but now, seeing that I am stopped from that, neither can find
redress of so great vexations and injuries as I have and do daily
sustain, nor can have the benefit of the law or reason; such right
and law as an archbishop may have, that will I exercise, and let for
no man. At these words one of them, bursting out in exclamation,
cried, He threateneth, he threateneth. What! will he interdict the
whole realm and us altogether? Nay, that he shall not, saith another,
he hath interdicted too many already. And drawing more near to him,
they protested and denounced him to have spoken words to the jeo
pardy of his own head. And so departing in great fury, and with many
high words, they rushed out of the doors: who by the way returning to
the monks, charged them in the king's name to keep him fortheoming,
that he should not escape away. what, quoth the archbishop, think ye
I will flee away? Nay, neither for the king, nor any man alive, will
I stir one foot from you. No, say they, thou shalt not avoid, though
thou wouldst. And so they departing with many words, the archbishop
followeth them out of the chamber door, crying after them, Here,
here, here shall you find me; laying his hand upon his crown.

The names of these four soldiers above mentioned were these, the
first Reginald Bereson, the second Hugh Morteuil, the third William
Thracie, and the fourth Richard Brito; who, going to harness
themselves, returned the same way again; but finding the hall door of
the palace of Canterbury shut against them, they went to an inward
back door leading into the orchard; there brake they up a window, and
opened the door, and so issued into the place. The monks (being about
evensong time) had got the archbishop into the church; who, being
persuaded by them, caused his cross to be borne before him, and so
through the cloister, by a door which was broken up for him, he
proceeded into the choir. The harness men following after, at length
came to the church door, which door the monks would have shut against
them; but, as the story saith, the archbishop would not suffer them.
So they approaching into tire church, and the archbishop meeting them
upon the stairs, there he was slain, every one of the four soldiers
striking him with his sword into the head; who afterward flying into
the north, and at length with much ado obtaining their pardon of the
pope by the king's procurement, as some stories record, went to
Jerusalem.
(Illustration: The murder of Thomas A Becket )

Thus you have heard the life and death of this Thomas Becket, of whom
what is to be judged, let his own acts and facts declare. And albeit
the Scripture ought to be the only rule to us to judge all things by,
yet if any shall require further testi mony, partly to satisfy their
minds therein, ye shall hear the judgments of certain men, in years
and times almost as ancient as himself what they write and affirm of
him.

And first to begin with the testimony of one of his own religion, and
also not far (as it appeareth) from his own time, who, writing of his
martyrdom and miracles, thus testifieth of the judgment and sentence
of divers concerning his promotion and behaviour. The chronicle being
written in Latin, and having the name of the author cut out, thus
beginneth: Quoniam vero multi, &c. And in the first book and eighth
chapter it followeth in this manner: "Divers notwithstanding there
be, which. as touching his promotion, suppose the same not to be
canonical, for that it was wrought rather by the instance of the king
(thinking him to be a man ready and inclinable to his utility) than
by the assent either of the clergy or of the people. Further. it is
noted in him for a point of presumption.,and lack of discretion, for
that he, being scarce worthy to take the oar in hand and play the
boatswain. would take upon him to sit at the helm, and guide the
ship; namely, in that church, where the convent, being in gesture and
vesture religious, be wont to have their prelate taken out of the
same profes sion. Whereas he, scant bearing the habit of a clerk, and
going in his changes and soft apparel, is more conversant among the
delicate rufflers in the court, savouring rather of worldly things,
not refusing, moreover, without any dread, to climb up to the high
preferment of such a holy dignity, but rather willingly of his own
accord to aspire to it. Moses we read did otherwise, who being the
friend of God, and sent of him to conduct his people Israel out of
Egypt, trembled at the message, and said, Who am I, Lord, that I
should go to Pharaoh, and bring thy people Israel out of Egypt? And
again, I pray thee. (saith he,) O Lord, I am nothing eloquent. send
him whom thou wilt send. Likewise Jeremias also, being sent of the
Lord to prophesy against Jerusalem, was abashed to take the office
upon him, answering again with much dread of heart; Ah, ah, ah, Lord,
I cannot utter my mind, for I am a child."

And although scarcely any testimony is to be taken of that age,
(being all blinded and corrupted with superstition,) yet let us hear
what Neuburgensis, an ancient historiographer, saith, who, in the
days of the son of this King Henry the Second, prosecuting his
history unto King Richard the First, hath these words, writing of
Thomas Becket:

"Whereas many be wont, in them whom they love or praise, (judging
them more by affection than prudence,) to aUow and approve whatsoever
they do, yet for me to judge upon this reverend man, verily I think
not his doings and acts to be praise worthy, or to be allowed;
forsomuch as thereof came no utility, but only the anger and stirring
up of the king; whereupon afterward sprung so great mischiefs
(although the thing that he did might proceed of a certain laudable
zeal); like as in the blessed prince of the apostles, in that he
taught the Gentiles by his example to play the Jews, Paul the doctor
of the Gentiles did declare him therein to be rebukeable, albeit, it
cannot be denied, but that he did it of a good affection," &c.

To this matter also pertain the words of Cesarius the monk, in his
eighth book of Dialogues and sixty-ninth chapter, about the eight and
fortieth year after the death of Thomas Becket, which was the year of
God 1220, whose words in some come to this effect:

"There was a question moved among the masters of Paris, whether
Thomas Becket was saved or damned. To this question answereth Roger,
a Norman, that he was worthy death and damnation, for that he was so
obstinate against God's minister his king. Contrary, Peter Cantor, a
Parisian, disputed, saying and affirming, that his miracles were
great signs and tokens of salvation, and also of great holiness in
that man; affirming, moreover, that the cause of the church did allow
and confirm his martyrdom, for the which church he died."

And thus have ye the judgment and censure of the school of Paris
touching this question, for the sainting of Thomas Becket. In which
judgment, forsomuch as the greatest argument resteth in the miracles
wrought by him after his death, let us therefore pause a little upon
the same, to try and examine these his miracles. In the trial whereof
we shall find one of these two to be true; that either if they were
true, they were wrought not by God, but by a contrary spirit, of whom
Christ our Lord giveth us warning in his Gospel, saying, Whose coming
shall be with lying signs and wonders, to deceive if it were possible
the elect, Matt. xxiv.: or else we shall find that no such were ever
wrought at all, but feigned and forged of idle monks and religious
bellies, for the exaltation of their churches, and profit of their
pouches; which thing indeed seemeth rather to be true, and no less
may appear by the miracles themselves, set forth by one of his own
monks, and of his own time; who in five solemn books hath
comprehended all the revelations, virtues, and miracles of the
archbishop; the which books (as yet remaining in the hands of William
Stephanson citizen of London) I have seen and perused; wherein is
contained the whole sum of all his miracles, to the number of two
hundred and seventy, being so far off from all truth and reason, some
ridiculous, some monstrous, vain, absurd, some also blasphemous, and
some so impudent, that not only they deserve no credit, (altogether
savouring of mere forgery,) but also for very shame will abash an
honest pen to write of them. First, if miracles serve for necessity
and for infidels, what cause or necessity was there (in a Christian
realm having the word of God) for God to work such miracles after his
death, who never wrought any in all his life? Then to consider the
end of these miracles, whither do they tend. but only to bring men to
Canterbury, with their vows and offerings to enrich the convent?

Beside the number of these miracles, which he said to be so many that
they lose their own credit, what disease is there belonging to man or
woman, in the curing whereof some miracle hath not been wrought by
this Thaumaturgus, as fevers, fistula, the gout, tooth-ache, palsy,
consumption, falling sickness, leprosy, head-ache, broken arms,
maimed legs, swelling throats, the raising up of the dead which have
been two days departed, with infinite others? And as all these have
been healed (for the most part) by one kind of salve. (as a certain
panacea,) which was with the water only of Canterbury. like as a
cunning smith, which would open with one key all manner of locks; so
again in reading of the story of these miracles ye shall find the
matter so conveyed, that the power of this dead saint was never twice
showed on any one disease, but every diverse disease had a diverse
miracle.

To recite in order all these prodigious revelations and fantastical
miracles, falsely imagined and ascribed to this archbishop, were
nothing else but to write a legend of lies, and to occupy the people
with trifles. Which because it pertaineth rather to the idle
profession of such dreaming monks and cloisterers. that have nothing
else to maintain that religion withal, I will not take their
profession out of their hands. Wherefore to omit all such vain and
lying apparitions and miracles, as how this angry saint (three days
after his death) appeared by vision at the altar in his
pontificalibus, commanding the choir not to sing, but to say this
office of his mass; which vision the author himself of the book doth
say he did see. To omit also the blasphemous lie, how in another
vision the said archbishop should say, that his blood did cry out of
the earth to God more than the blood of just Abel. Item, in another
vision it was showed to a monk of Lewis, how St. Thomas had his place
in heaven appointed with the apostles, above Stephen, Laurence,
Vincent, and all the other martyrs. Where of this cause is rendered,
for that St. Stephen, Laurence, and such others, suffered only for
their own cause; but this Thomas suffered for the universal church.
Item, how it was showed to a certain young man, (Ormus by name,)
twelve years before the death of this Becket, that among the apostles
and martyrs in heaven there was a vacant place left for a certain
priest, as he said, of England, which was credibly supposed to be
this Thomas Becket. Item, how a certain knight's son, being two days
dead, was revived again so soon as he had the water of Canterbury put
in his mouth, and had by his parents four pieces of silver bended, to
be offered in Canterbury in the child's behalf. All these, I say,
with such other like, to omit (the number whereof cometh to an
infinite variety) only this one story, or another that followeth,
shall suffice to express the vanity and impudent forgery of all the
rest.

In the fourth book of this fabulous author, and in the third chapter,
a miracle is there contained of a certain countryman of Bedfordshire
in King's Weston, whose name was Eilwardus; which Eilwardus, in his
drunkenness bursting into another man's house which was his debtor,
took out of his house a great whetstone, and a pair of hedging
gloves. The other party, seeing this value not sufficient for his
condemnation, (by the counsel of the town clerk,) entered an action
of felony against him for other things besides, as for stealing his
wimble, his axe, his net, and other clothes. Whereupon Eilwardus
being had to the gaol of Bedford, and afterward condemned for the
same, was judged to have both his eyes put out, and also those 
members cut off which nature with secret shame hath covered. Which
punishment by the malice of his adversary being executed upon him,
he, lying in great danger of death by bleeding, was counselled to
make his prayer to this Thomas of Canterbury. Which done, (saith the
miracle,) there appeared one to him by night in white apparel,
bidding him to watch and pray, and put his trust in God and our Lady,
and holy St. Thomas. In conclusion, the miracle thus fell out: The
next day at evening the man, rubbing his eyelids, began to feel his
eyes to be restored again: first in a little, after in a greater,
measure, so that one was of a grey colour, the other was of black;
and here was one miracle rung. After this followed another miracle
also upon the same person; for going but the space of four miles,
when his eyes were restored, he chanced (in like manner) to rub the
place where his secret parts were cut off, and immediately on the
same his pendenda (to use the words of my story) were to him
restored, which he permitted every one to feel that would, and shamed
not to deny. Insomuch that he, coming up to St. Thomas, first at
London was received with joy of the bishop of Durham; who then
sending to the burghers of Bedford for the truth of the matter,
received from them again letters testimonial, wherein the citizens
there (saith this fabulous festival) confirmed first to the bishop,
then to the convent of Canterbury, the relation of this to be as hath
been told. This one miracle, gentle reader, so shameless and
impudent, I thought here to express, that by this one thou mightest
judge of all the residue of his miracles; and by the residue thereof
mightest judge moreover of all the filthy wickedness of all these
lying monks and cloisterers, which count it a light sport so
impudently to deceive the simple souls of Christ's church with
trifling lies and dreaming fables. Wherefore (as I said) if the holy
sainting of Thomas Becket standeth upon no other thing but upon his
miracles, what credit is to be given there to? and upon what a weak
ground his shrine so long hath stood by this may easily be seen.
Furthermore, another fable as notable as this, and no less worthy of
the whetstone, we read in the story of Gervasius; that Thomas Becket,
appearing to a certain priest, named Thomas, declared to him that he
had so brought to pass, that all the names of the monks of the church
of Canterbury, with the names of the priests and clerks, and with the
families be longing to that city and church of Canterbury, were
written in the book of life.

But whatsoever is to he thought of his miracles, or howsoever the
testimony of the school of Paris, or of these ancient times, went
with him or against him: certain it is, that this anthem or collect,
lately collected and primered in his praise. is blasphemous, and
derogateth from the praise of Him to whom only all praise and honour
is due, where it is said,

For the blood of Thomas,
Which he for thee did spend,
Grant us (Christ) to climb
Where Thomas did ascend.

Wherein is a double lie contained: first, that he died for Christ;
secondly, that if he had so done, yet that his blood could purchase
heaven. Which thing neither Paul nor any of the apostles durst ever
challenge to themselves; for if any man's blood could bring us to
heaven, then the blood of Christ was shed in vain.

And thus much touching the testimony or censure of certain ancient
times concerning the cause of Thomas Becket. In the explication of
whose history I have now stood the longer, (exceeding, peradventure,
in overmuch prolixity,) to the intent that his cause being fully
opened to the world, and duly weighed on every part, men's minds
(thereby long deceived by ignorance) might come unto the more perfect
certainty of the truth thereof, and thereby judge more surely what is
to be received, and what to be refused. Where by the way is to be
noted out of the testimony of Rob. Crikeladensis, which in him I
find, that the peers and nobles of this land near about the king gave
out in strait charge, upon pain of death and confiscating of all
their goods, that no man should be so hardy as to name Thomas Becket
to be a martyr, or to preach of his miracles, &c.



41. AFTER THE DEATH OF THOMAS BECKET

After the death of Thomas Becket, the king, fearing the pope's wrath
and curse to be laid upon him, (whereunto Ludovike, the French king,
also helped what he could to set the matter forward,) sent to Rome
the archbishop of Rothomage, with certain other bishops and
archdeacons, unto the pope with his excuse, which the pope could in
no wise hear. And after other messengers being sent, (whom some of
the cardinals received,) it was showed to them that on Good Friday
(being then near at hand) the pope of custom was used to assoil or to
curse, and that it was noised how the king of England, with his
bishops, should be cursed, and his land interdicted, and that they
should be put in prison. After this, certain of the cardinals showed
the pope, that the messengers had power to swear to the pope that the
king should obey his punishment and penance: which was taken both for
the king and the archbishop of York. So that in the same day the pope
cursed the deed-doers, with such as were of their consent, that
either aided or harboured them. Concerning these deed-doers it is
touched briefly before, how they, lying in Gnarsborough, fled into
Yorkshire: who, after having in penance to go in their linen clothes
barefoot (in fasting and prayer) to Jerusalem, by reason of this hard
penance are said to die in few years after.

The king's ambassadors lying, as is said, in Rome, could find no
grace nor favour a long time at the pope's hands. At length with much
ado it was agreed, that two cardinals should be sent down to inquire
out the matter concerning them that were consenting to Becket's
death. The king perceiving what was preparing at Rome, neither being
yet certain whereto the intent of the pope and coming down of the
cardinals would tend; in the mean time addressed himself with a great
power to enter into Ireland, giving in charge and commandment, as
Hoveden writeth, that no bringer of any brief or letter should come
over into England, or pass out of the realm, (of what degree or
condition soever he were,) without special licence, and assurance
that he would bring nothing that should be prejudicial to the realm.

This order being set and ordained, the king with four hundred great
ships taketh his journey to Ireland, where he subdued in short time
the whole land unto him, which at that time was governed under divers
kings to the number of five; of whom four submitted themselves unto
the said King Henry; only the fifth, who was the king of Conacta,
denied to be subdued, keeping him in woods and marshes.

In the mean season, while the king was thus occupied in Ireland, the
two cardinals that were sent from the pope (Theodinus and Albertus)
were come to Normandy. Unto whom the king the next year following
resorted about the month of October, in the year 1172. But before
(during the time of the king's being in Ireland) the bishop of
London, and Joseline. bishop of Salisbury, had sent to Rome, and
procured their absolution from the pope. The king returning out of
Ireland, by Wales, into England, and from thence to Normandy. there
made his purgation before the pope's legates, as touching the death
of the foresaid Becket: to the which he sware he was neither aiding
nor consenting, but only that he spake rigorous words against him,
for that his knights would not avenge him against the said Thomas;
for the which cause this penance was enjoined him under his oath.

First, that he should send so much into the Holy Land as would find
two hundred knights or soldiers for the defence of that land.

Also, that from Christmas day next following he should set forth in
his own person to fight for the Holy Land, the space of three years
together, unless he should be otherwise dispensed withal by the pope.

Item, that if he would make his joumey into Spain. (as his present
necessity did require,) there he should fight against the Saracens;
and as long time as he should there abide, so long space might he 
take in prolonging his journeys toward Jerusalem

Item, that he should not hinder, nor cause to be hindered by him, any
appellations made to the pope of Rome.

Item, that neither he nor his son should depart or dissever from Pope
Alexander, or from his catholic successors, so long as they should
recount him or his son for kings catholic.

Item, that the goods and possessions taken from the church of
Canterbury should be restored again, (fully and amply,) as they stood
the year before Thomas Becket departed the realm; and that free
liberty should be granted to all such as were out lawed for Beckets
cause to return again.

Item, that the foresaid customs and decrees, by him established
against the church, should be extinct and repealed, (such only except
that concerned his own person, &c.,) besides other secret fastings
and alms enjoined him.

All these former conditions the king with his son did both agree
unto, debasing himself in such sort of submission before the two
cardinals; by the occasion whereof the cardinals took no little
glory, using this verse of the Psalm: Which looketh upon the earth,
and maketh it to tremble; which toucheth the hills, and they smoke,
&c. Moreover, it is mentioned in histories of the said king, that, a
little after William, king of Scots, with his army had made a road
into the realm, he, returning out of Normandy into England, came
first to Canterbury; who by the way (so soon as he came to the sight
of Becket's church) lighting off his horse, and putting off his
shoes, went barefoot to his tomb, whose stops were found bloody
through the roughness of the stones. And not only that, but also he
received further penance, by every monk of the cloister, certain
discipline of a rod. By which so great dejection of the king (if it
were true) thou mayst see the blind and lamentable superstition and
ignorance of those days. If it were attempted (as might so be in time
of war) to get the hearts of the people, thou mayest, learned reader,
see what slavery kings and princes were brought into at that time
under the pope's clergy. The same year, (as Hoveden writeth,) which
was 1174, the whole city of Canterbury was almost all consumed, with
fire, and the said minster church clean burnt.

The next year ensuing, which was 1175, a convocation of bishops was
holden at Westminster by Richard, archbishop of Canterbury. In which
conventicle all the bishops and abbots of the province of Canterbury
and of York, being present, determined (as it had done a little
before in the days of King Henry the First. A.D. 1113) about the
obedience that York should do to Canterbury; that is, whether the
archbishop of York might bear his cross in the diocess of Canterbury
or not, whereof something was touched before in time former process
of this history. Also about the bishopric of Lincoln, of Chichester,
of Worcester, and of Hereford, whether these churches were under the
jurisdiction of the see of York or not, &c. Upon these and other like
matters rose such controversy between these two sees, that the one
appealed the other to the presence of the bishop of Rome.

In these and such-like causes, how much better had it been if the
supremacy had remained more near in the king's hands at home! Whereby
not only much labour and travail had been saved, but also the great
and wasteful expenses bestowed at Rome might with much more fruit and
thank have been converted to their cures and flocks committed unto
them, and also perhaps their cause no less indifferently heard, at
least more speedily might have been decided. But to the purpose
again. In this controversy divers of the bishop of York's clergy,
such as were of Gloucester, belonging to the church of St. Oswald,
were excommunicated by the archbishop of Canterbury, because they,
being summoned, refused to appear before him, &c. At length the same
year, which was 1175, there was a cardinal sent down from Rome by the
king's procurement, who studied to set a peace between the two
archbishops. Whereupon this way of agreement was taken (by the means
of the king) at Winchester, that as touching the church of St. Oswald
at Gloucester, the archbishop of Canterbury should cease his claim
thereof, molesting the see of York no more therein; also should
absolve again the clerks thereof whom he had excommunicated before.
And as concerning the bearing of the cross and all other matters. it
was referred to the archbishop of Rothomage, and of other bishops in
France; so that for five years a league or truce was taken betwixt
them, till they should have a full determination of their cause.

The next year following, the foresaid King Henry the Second (dividing
the realm of England into six parts) ordained upon every part three
justices of assize. The circuit or limitation of which justices was
thus disposed. The first upon Norfolk, Suffolk, Cambridgeshire,
Huntingdonshire, Bedfordshire, Buckinghamshire, Essex, Hertford
shire. Two upon Lincolnshire, Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire,
Staffordshire, Warwickshire, Northamptonshire, Leicestershire. Three
upon Kent, Surrey, Southamptoushire, Sussex, Berkshire. Oxfordshire.
Four upon Herefordshire, Gloucestershire, Worcestershire, Shropshire.
Five upon Wiltshire, Dorsetshire, Somersetshire, Devonshire, Comwall.
Six upon Everikeshire, Richmondshire, Lancaster, Copland,
Westmoreland, Northumberland, Cumberland.

In the which year also Richard, archbishop of Canterbury, made three
archdeacons in his diocess, whereas before there was but one. About
which time also it was granted by the king to the pope's legate, that
a clerk should not be called before a temporal judge, except for
offence in the forest, or for his lay fee that he holdeth.

Item, that no archbishopric, bishopric, or abbey should remain in the
king's hands over one year without great cause. It chanced the same
year that this was done there was at Canterbury one elected to be
abbot in the house of St. Austin named Albert, who made great labour
and suit unto the archbishop that he would come to his church, and
there consecrate him abbot of St. Austin's. To whom the archbishop
sent word again, that he was not bound to come to him, but rather the
other should repair to the metropolitan church of Canterbury, there
to receive his consecration. Where upon (controversy rising between
them) the foresaid new elect appealed up to the audience of the pope,
and so laboured up himself to Rome. Where he so handled the matter,
(by what means I cannot tell, unless with his golden bottle,
wherewith he quenched the pope's thirsty soul, for abbots never
travel lightly without fat purses to Rome,) that with short despatch
he procured letters from Alexander the pope, to Roger, bishop of
Worcester; signifying to him, that he had given in charge and
commandment to the archbishop of Canterbury (in the behalf of his
dear son Albert) that he should consecrate him within his own
monastery; which monastery properly and solely without mediation
belonged to the jurisdiction of Rome, and so likewise should do to
his successors after him, without any exaction of obedience of them.
Which thing, further he said, if the archbishop would refuse to do
within the term appointed, that then he the foresaid bishop of
Worcester should (by the authority committed unto him) execute the
same, all manner of appellation or other decree, whatsoever should
come, notwithstanding. This letter being obtained, the abbot that
would be returneth home, supposing with himself all things to be
sure. Tho archbishop understanding the cause, and seeing himself be
so straitly charged, and yet loth to yield and stoop to the abbot,
took to him policy where authority would not serve, and both to save
himself, and yet to disappoint the abbot, he watcheth a time when the
abbot was about business of his house. And coming the same time to
the monastery, as he was commanded to do, with all things appointed
that to such a business appertained, he called for the abbot,
pretending no less than to give him his consecration. The abbot,
being called for, was not at home; the archbishop, feigning himself
not a little grieved at his labour and good will so lost, departed,
as one in whom no ready diligence was lacking, if in case that the
abbot had been at home. Whereupon the abbot, being thus disappointed,
was fain to fill his silver flagons afresh. and make a now course to
Rome to his father the pope, of whom he received his consecration,
and so came home again, with as much wit as he went forth, but not
with so much money peradventure as he went withal.

We have declarod a little afore touching the acts and doings of this
Pope Alexander the Third, how he had brought the emperor's head under
his foot in St. Mark's church at Venice; at which time and place
peace was concluded, and a composition made between the pope and the
said Frederic the emperor. Which pacification Rogerus Hovedenus, and
Gualterus Gisburgensis, refer to this time, being the year of our
Lord 1177, bringing in two several letters sent from the said pope to
Richard, archbishop of Canterbury, and to Roger, archbishop of York,
and Hugh, bishop of Duresme. Out of the which letters, so much as
serveth to our purpose, I have taken and here inserted.

The letter of Pope Alexander, sent to Roger, archbishop of York, and
to the bishop of Duresme.

"Alexander, servant of the servants of God, to his reverend brethren
Roger, archbishop of York, and Hugh, bishop of Duresme, greeting and
apostolical blessing. The obsequies and service of your kind
devotion, which hitherto you are known to have given both devoutly
and laudably to us and to the church, requireth that we should
describe to you, as to our special friends, the prosperous success of
the church, and to let you know, as spiritual children of the church,
what hath happened to the same. For meet it is, convenient, and also
honest, that you, whom we have had so firm and sure in our devotion,
should now be cherished and made joyous in the prosperity of us and
of the church." And about the end of the epistle it followeth thus:

"The next day following, which was the feast of St. James, (the said
emperor so requesting,) we came to the foresaid church of St. Mark,
there to celebrate our solemn mass; where (as we were coming in the
way) the said emperor met us without the church, and placing us again
on his right hand, he brought us so into the said church. After the
mass was done, placing us again on his right hand, he brought us to
the church door. And, moreover, when we should take our palfry, he
held our stirrup, exhibiting to us such honour and reverence as his
progenitors were wont to exhibit to our predecessors. Wherefore these
shall be to incite your diligence and study towards us, that you
rejoice with us and the church in these our prosperous successes; and
also that you shall open the same effect of peace to other devout
children of the church, that such as be touched with the zeal of the
house of the Lord, may congratulate and rejoice also in the Lord for
the great working of peace which he hath given. Given at Venice, in
the deep river, the six and twentieth of July."

This year the contention revived again, spoken of a little before,
between the two archbishops of York and Canterbury, the occasion
whereof was this: The manner and practice of the pope is, when he
beginneth to lack money, he sendeth some limiting cardinal abroad to
fetch his harvest in. So there came this year into England (as
lightly few years were without them) a certain cardinal from Rome,
called Hugo, or, as Hovedenus nameth him, Hugezim, who would needs
keep a council at Westminster. To this council resorted a great
confluence (about middle of Lent) of bishops, abbots, priors,
doctors, and such others of the clergy. As every one was there placed
in his order, and after his degree, first cometh the archbishop of
York, named Roger, who (thinking to prevent the other archbishop)
came something sooner, and straightway placed himself on the right
hand of the cardinal. Richard, the archbishop of Canterbury,
following shortly after, and seeing the first place taken up,
refuseth to take the second, complaining of the archbishop of York,
as one prejudicial to his see. So while the one would not rise, and
the other part not sit down, there rose no small contention between
them two. The archbishop of Canterbury claimed the upper seat by the
pre-eminence of his church. Contrary, the archbishop of York alleged
for him the old decree of Gregory, whereof mention is made before. By
which this order was taken between the two metropolitans of
Canterbury and York, that which of them two should be first in
election, he should have the pre-eminence in dignity, to go before
the other. Thus they contending to and fro, waxed so warm in words,
that at last they turned to hot blows. How strong the archbishop of
York was in reason and argument I cannot tell; but the archbishop of
Canterbury was stronger at the arms' end; whose servants, being more
in number, (like valiant men,) not suffering their master to take
such a foil, so prevailed against York, (sitting on the right hand of
the cardinal,) that they plucked him down from the hand to the foot
of the cardinal upon the ground, treading and trampling upon him with
their feet, that marvel it was he escaped with life. His casule,
chimer, and rochet were all to be rent and torn from his back. Here
no reason would take place, no debating would serve, no praying could
be heard, such clamour and tumult was there in the house among them.

But what did the noble Roman cardinal? Like a pretty man of his
hands, (but a prettier man of his feet,) standing up in the midst,
and seeing the house in such a broil, committed himself to flight,
and (as Hovedenus writeth) abscondit se a fade illorum. The next day
after, the archbishop of York bringeth to the cardinal his rochet, to
bear witness what injury and violence he had sustained; appealing and
citing up the archbishop of Canterbury with certain of his men to the
bishop of Rome. And thus the holy council (the same day it was begun)
brake up and was dissolved.

Under the reign of this King Henry the Second, the dominion and crown
of England extended so far as hath not been seen in this realm before
him; whom histories record to possess under his rule and
jurisdiction, first, Scotland, to whom William, king of Scots, with
all the lords temporal and spiritual, did homage, both for them and
for their successors, (the seal whereof rernaineth in the king's
treasury,) as also Ireland, England, Normandy, Aquitan, Gant, &c., to
the Pyrenees, which be in the uttermost part of the great ocean in
the British Sea; being also protector of France; to whom Philip, the
French king, yielded both himself and his realm wholly to his
governance, in the year of our Lord, 1181. Moreover, he was offered
also to be the king of Jerusalem by the patriarch and master of the
hospital there; who, then being distressed by the soldan, brought him
the keys of their city, desiring his aid against the infidels; which
offer he then refused, alleging the great charge which he had at
home, and the rebellion of his sons, which might happen in his
absence.

And here the old histories find a great fault with the king for his
refusal; declaring that to be the cause of God's plagues which after
ensued upon him by his children, as the patriarch in his oration
(being offended with the king) prophesied should so happen to him for
the same cause. Which story, if it be true, it may be a lesson to
good princes not to deny their necessary help to their distressed
neighbours, especially the cause appertaining unto God.

The wisdom, discretion, manhood, and riches of this prince were so
spread and renowned from all quarters, that messages came from
Emmanuel, emperor of Constantinople, Frederic, emperor of Rome, and
William, archbishop of Trevers in Almain, the duke of Saxon, and from
the earl of Flanders, and also from the French king, (upon
determination of great questions and strifes,) to ask counsel and
determination thereof of this King Henry, as of one most wise, and
schoolmaster of all wisdom and justice, to have solution of their
questions and doubts. Moreover, Alphonsus, king of Castile, and
Sancius, king of Naverne, being in strife for certain castles and
other possessions, submitted them (of their free accord and by their
oath) to abide the award of this King Henry, who made award and
pleased them both; whereby it is to he presupposed that this king, to
whom other princes did so resort, as to their arbiter and guide, did
not attend either to any sloth or vicious living. Wherefore it may
seem that the acts of this prince were not so vicious as some monkish
writers do describe.

Among many other things in this king memorable, this one is to be
noted, (follow it who can,) that he, reigning five and thirty years,
and having such wars with his enemies, yet never upon his subjects
put any tribute or tax, nor yet upon the spirituality, first-fruits
and appropriations of benefices. Belike they were not known, or else
not used. And yet his treasure after his death (weighed by King
Richard his son) amounted to above nine hundred thousand pounds,
besides jewels, precious stones, and household furniture. Of the
which substance eleven thousand pounds came to him by the death of
Roger, archbishop of York; who had procured a bull of the pope, that
if any priest died within his province without testament, then he
should have all his goods. And shortly after the archbishop died, and
the king had all his goods, which extended (as is said) to eleven
thousand pounds besides plate, in the year of our Lord God 1181.

But as there is no felicity or wealth in this mortal world so
perfect, which is not darkened with some cloud of encumbrance and
adversity; so it happened to this king, that, among his other
princely successors, this incommodity followed him withal, that his
sons rebelled and stood in armour against him, taking the part of the
French king against their father. First, at the coronation of Henry
his son, whom the father joined with him as king, he being both
father and king, took upon him (that notwithstanding) but as a
steward, and set down the first dish, as sewer unto his son,
renouncing the name of a king. At what time the foresaid archbishop
of York, sitting on the right hand of the young king, said, Sir, ye
have great cause this day to joy, for there is no prince in the world
that hath such an officer this day, &c. And the young king disdaining
his words, said, My father is not dishonoured in this doing, for I am
a king and a queen's son, and so is not he: and not only this, but
after he also persecuted his father: and so in his youth, when he had
reigned but a few years, died; teaching us what is the price and
reward of breaking the just commandment of God.

After him likewise Richard his son (who was Richard Cœur de Lion)
rebelled against his father, and also John his youngest son did not
much degenerate from the steps of his brethren. Insomuch that this
foresaid Richard, (like an unkind child,) persecuting and taking part
against his father, brought him to such distress of body and mind,
that for thought of heart he fell into an ague; and with in four days
departed, after he had reigned five and thirty years; whose corpse as
it was carried to be buried, Richard his son, coming by the way and
meeting it, and beginning for compassion to weep, the blood burst
incontinent out of the nose of the king at the coming of his son;
giving thereby a certain demonstration how he was the only author of
his death.

After the death and reign of which king, his children after him,
(worthily rewarded for their unnaturalness against their father,)
lacking the success which their father had, lost all beyond the sea
that their father had got before.

And thus much concerning the reign of Henry the Second, and the death
of Thomas Becket, whose death (as is aforesaid) happened in the days
of Pope Alexander the Third.



42. POPE ALEXANDER III AND THE WALDENSES
[This] pope, usurping the keys of ecclesiastical regiment one
and twenty years. (or, as Gisburnensis writeth, three and twenty
years,) governed the church with much tumult: striving and contending
with Frederic the emperor, not shaming, like a most proud Lucifer, to
tread with his foot upon the neck of the said emperor. as is above
described.

This pope, among many other his acts, had certain councils, as is
partly before touched. some in France. some at Rome in Lateran: by
whom it was decreed, that no archbishop should receive the pall,
unless he should first swear. Concerning the solemnity of which pall,
for the order and manner of giving and taking the same with obedience
to the pope, as it is contained in their own words, I thought it good
to set it forth unto thee, that thou mayst well consider and
understand their doings therein.

"To the honour of Almighty God, and of blessed Mary the virgin, and
of blessed St. Peter and Paul, and of our Lord Pope N., and of the
holy Church of Rome. and also of the church of N. committed to your
charge, we give to you the pall taken from the body of St. Peter. as
a fulness of the office pontifical, which you may wear within your
own church upon certain days. which be expressed in the privileges of
the said church, granted by the see apostolic."

Notes upon the same.

"To the honour." &c. With what confidence durst the pope couple the
honour of Almighty God. and the honour of Mary, of St. Peter. and of
the pope, and of the Romish Church all together, if he had not been a
presumptuous Lucifer, equalling himself not only with such saints,
but also even with him which is God alone, to be blessed for ever?

"Taken from the body." &c. If St. Peter's body be not all consumed,
let him show it if he can. If he cannot show it, how then is this
pall taken from the body of St. Peter? Or if he mean it to be of St.
Peter's own wearing, then belike St. Peter had a goodly wardrobe of
palls, when every archbishop in all Christendom receiveth from the
pope a diverse pall.

"As a fulness of the office," &c. Rather he might say, the fulness of
his own purse; whenas archbishops paid so sweetly for it. Insomuch
that Jacobus, the archbishop of Mentz, as is above touched a little
before in the Council of Basil, where the price was wont to be but a
thousand florins, could not obtain it without six and twenty thousand
florins.

Upon certain days," &c. This difference there was between the pope
and other archbishops; for the pope might wear the pall at all times
and in all places at his pleasure. Archbishops might not wear it but
upon certain days, and in their church only within their province.
Moreover, this pall should not be asked but with great instance, and
within three months, without which pall he is not to be archbishop,
but may be deposed, having it not after three months; and the same
pall must also be buried with him when he dieth; and when it is
given, some privilege must be given withal, or the old renewed.

In like manner proccedeth the oath of every bishop swearing obedience
to the pope, in like words as followeth.

"I, N., bishop of N., from this hour henceforth will be faithful and
obedient to blessed St. Peter, and to the holy apostolic Church of
Rome, and to my lord N. the pope. I shall be in no counsel, nor help,
either with my consent or deed, whereby either of them or any member
of them may be impaired, or whereby they may be taken with any evil
taking, The counsel which they shall commit to me, either by
themselves, or by messenger, or by their letters, wittingly or
willingly I shall utter to none to their hinderance and damage. To
the retaining and maintaining the papacy of Rome, and the regalities
of St. Peter, I shall be an aider (so mine order be saved) against
all persons. The legate of the apostolic see both in going and coming
I shall honourably treat and help in all necessities. Being called to
a synod, I shall be ready to come, unless I be let by some lawful and
canonical impeachment. The palace of the apostles every third year I
shall visit, either by myself or my messenger, except otherwise being
licensed by the see apostolic. All such possessions as belong to the
table and diet of my bishopric I shall neither sell, nor give, nor
lay to mortgage, nor lease out, nor remove assay by any manner of
means, without the consent and knowledge of the bishop of Rome: so
God help me and the holy Gospels of God."

N. B. Hereby thou hast. by the way, gentle reader, to note and
consider, among other things which here may be understood, that since
the time the oath began to be laid and thrust upon bishops. all
general councils began to lose their liberty. For how could any
freedom remain for men to speak their knowledge in redress of things.
being by their oath so bound to the pope to speak nothing but on his
side, to maintain the papacy and the Church of Rome in all times and
places? Conjecture by thyself, Christian reader, what is more hereby
to be considered.

Besides this, it was also decreed, in the said council at Rome of
three hundred and ten bishops, by Pope Alexander. that no man should
have any spiritual promotion, except he were of lawful age, and born
in wedlock. That no parish church should be void above six months.
That none within orders should meddle with temporal business. That
priests should have but one benefice, and that the bishop should be
charged to find the priest a living till he be promoted.

That open usurers should not communicate at Easter, nor be buried
within the churchyard.

That nothing should be taken for ministering sacraments, or burying.

Item, that every cathedral church should have a master to teach
children freely, without taking any thing for the same.

In this council the vow of chastity was obtruded and laid upon
priests. Thomas Becket also and Bernard were canonized for saints.

In the time of this Alexander sprang up the doctrine and name of them
which were then called Pauperes de Lugduno; which, of one Waldus, a
chief senator in Lyons, were named Waldenses, item Leonistæ et
Insabbatati, about A.D. 1109, or (as Laziardus writeth) 1170.

(Illustration: Turin and the plain of Piedmont )

[Note by the Rev. R. CATTLEY.
Waldenses. -- Our author has fallen into the very common error of
confounding the Waldenses with the 'Pauperes de Lugduno,' or 'Poor
men of Lyons,' and of deriving their origin from Waldus, or Peter
Waldo, of Lyons. The earliest period assigned to Peter Waldo is the
year 1160; but there is a document of the year 1100, 'La nobla
Leycezon,' which speaks of the Waldenses, or Vaudois, under the term
Vaudés. It is, therefore, much more probable that Peter Waldo was
named after the community called Vaudés, than that the Waldenses
should take their name from his. Authors who assert the greater
antiquity of the Waldenss, Vallenses, or Vaudois, maintain,

1. That the Waldenses are so called from certain secluded Alpine
valleys, principally in Piedmont, where they have been settled from
time immemorial

2. That the simplest etymology is that which is deduced from a local,
and not from a personal name. -- ' Vallis.' Latin; 'valli,' Italian;
'val,' Provençal; 'val,' pl. 'vaux,' and 'vallée,' French; 'val,'
Spanish; 'val,' Celtic; 'Wald,' Teutonic; 'valley,' English.

3. That traces are to be found in early ecclesiastical history
(beginning with the works of Ambrose and Jerome) of Alpine churches,
which held opinions similar to those of the Waldenses of later times.

4. That the most ancient of the state records of Piedmont, in which
the Waldenses are noticed as a religious community at variance with
the Church of Rome, call them Huomini delle Valli,' or 'Men of the
Valleys.'

5. That the antiquity of 'La nobla Leycezon,' which presents internal
evidence of having been written in the year 1100, and contains the
term Vaudés, and applies it to a religious body not in communion with
the Church of Rome, is proved by Raynonard in his 'Choix de Poésies
des Troubadours,' and by others whose authority is of importance as
to the period and language of that valuable document.

6. That surnames were not in use in the twelfth century, and that
Peter of Lyons had his second appellation Waldus, or Waldo, given to
him to distinguish him as one who had adopted the opinions of the
Vaudds, or Waldenses.

7. That the earliest public edicts which make mention of the
Waldenses (such as 'Statute Synodalia Odonis Episcopi Tullesisis,' in
1192 -- ' De hæreticis autem qui vocantur Wadoys -- præcipimus,' and
the edict of Ildefonsus, king of Arragon, in 1194) do not give any
derivation of the term Waldenses, but simply call certain heretics by
that name.

8. That the earliest treatises which profess to give the etymology of
the name Waldenses derive it from a word signifying 'valley.' Thus
Bernard of Fontcaud, A.D. 1185 -- 'Dicti sunt Valdenses nimirum a
valle dense, eo quod profundis et densis errorum tenebris
involvantur;' and Ebrard De Bethune, in the year 1200 -- ' Vallenses
se appellant eo quod in valle lachrymarum maneant?

9. That the first treatise which pretends to derive the Waldenses
from Peter Waldus, of Lyons, was written after these, namely, 'Petri
Valium Sarnaii monarchi Historia Albigensium,' in 1218. See Leger's
'Histoire generale des Eglises Evangeliques de Vallées de Piêmont,'
Allix's 'Churches of Piedmont,' Gilly's 'Waldensian Researches,'
Blair's 'History of the Waldenses.']

Not long before this time (as is expressed above) rose up Gratianus,
master of the decrees, and Petrus Lombardus, master of the sentences,
both archpillars of all papistry; after whom followed also two as
evil or worse than they, Franciscus and Dominicus, maintaining blind
hypocrisy no less than the other maintained proud prelacy. As these
laboured one way by superstition and worldly advancement to corrupt
the sincerity of Christian religion; so it pleased Christ the
contrary way, labouring against these, to raise up therefore the said
Waldensians against the pride and hypocrisy of the others.

Thus we never see any great corruption in the church, but that some
sparkle of the true and clear light of the gospel yet by God's
providence doth remain. Whatsoever Doctor Augustinus, Reinerius,
Sylvius, Cranzius, with others in their popish histories do write of
them, (defaming them through misreport,) and accusing them to
magistrates, as disobedient to orders, rebels to the Catholic Church,
and contemners of the Virgin Mary; yet they that carry judgment
indifferent, rather trusting truth then wavering with times, in
weighing their articles, shall find it otherwise, and that they
maintained nothing else but the same doctrine which is now defended
in the church. And yet I suppose not contrary, but as the papists did
with the articles of Wickliffe and Huss, so they did in like manner
with their articles also, in gathering and wresting them otherwise
than they were meant.

The first original of these Waldenses came of one Waldus, a man both
of great substance, and no less calling, in the city of Lyons; the
occasion whereof is declared of divers writers thus to come: About
the year of our Lord 1160, it chanced that divers of the best and
chiefest heads of the city of Lyons, talking and walking in a certain
place after their old accustomed manner, especially in the summer
time, conferred and consulted together upon matters, either to pass
over time, or to debate things to be done. Amongst whom it chanced
one (the rest looking upon) to fall down by sudden death. In the
number of whom this foresaid Waldus, there being amongst them, was
one; who beholding the matter more earnestly than the other, and
terrified with so heavy an example, being (as is said) a rich man,
and God's Holy Spirit working withal, was stricken with a deep and
inward repentance, where upon followed a new alteration, with a
careful study to reform his former life. Insomuch that, first, he
began to minister large alms of his goods to such as needed.
Secondly, to instruct himself and his family with the true knowledge
of God's word. Thirdly, to admonish all that resorted to him by any
occasion to repentance and virtuous amendment of life. Whereby,
partly through his large giving to the poor, partly through his
diligent teaching and wholesome admonitions, more resort of people
daily frequented about him; whom when he did see ready and diligent
to learn, he began to give out to them certain rudiments of the
Scripture, which he had translated himself into the French tongue;
for as he was a man wealthy in riches, so he was also not unlearned.

Although Laziardus, Volateranus, with others, note him utterly
unlearned, and charge him with ignorance, as who should procure
others to write and translate for him; by others, that have seen his
doings yet remaining in old parchment monuments, it appeareth he was
both able to declare and translate the books of Scripture, and also
did collect the doctors' mind upon the same.

But whatsoever he was, (lettered or unlettered,) the bishops and
prelates seeing him so to intermeddle with Scriptures, and to have
such resort about him, albeit it was but in his own house under
private conference, could not abide either that the Scriptures should
be declared of any other, neither would they take the pains to
declare it themselves. So being moved with great malice against the
man, they threatened to excommunicate him if he did not leave so to
do. Waldus seeing his doing to be but godly, and their malice stirred
up upon no just nor godly cause, neglecting the threatenings and
frettings of the wicked, said that God must be obeyed more than man.
To be brief, the more diligent he was in setting forth the true
doctrine of Christ against the errors of antichrist, the more
maliciously their fierceness increased. Insomuch that when they did
see their excommunication to be despised and would not serve, they
ceased not with prison, with sword, and banishment to persecute, till
at length they had driven both Waldus and all the favourers of his
true preaching out of the city.

Whereupon came first their name, that they were called Waldenses, or
Pauperes de Lugduno, not because they would have all things common
amongst them, or that they, professing any wilful poverty, would
imitate to live as the apostles did, (as Sylvius did falsely believe
them,) but because they, being thrust out both of country and goods,
were compelled to live poorly, whether they would or no. And thus
much touching the first occasion and beginning of these men, and of
the restoring and maintaining of the true doctrine of Christ's gospel
against the proud proceedings of popish errors. Now concerning their
articles, which I find in order and in number to be these.

1. Only the Holy Scripture is to be believed in mat ters pertaining
to salvation, and no man's writing or man besides.

2. All things to be contained in Holy Scripture necessary to
salvation, and nothing to be admitted in religion but what only is
commanded in the word of God.

3. To be one only Mediator; other saints in no wise to be made
mediators, or to be invocated.

4. To be no purgatory, but that all men either by Christ are
justified to life, or without Christ be condemned; and besides these
two neither any third or fourth place to be.

5. That all masses, namely, such as be sung for the dead, be wicked,
and to be abrogate.

6. All men's traditions to be rejected, at least not to he reputed as
necessary to salvation, and therefore this singing and superfluous
chanting in the chancel to be left; constrained and prefixed fasts
bound to days and times, difference of meats, such variety of degrees
and orders of priests, friars, monks, and nuns, superfluous holy-
days, so many sundry benedictions and hallowing of creatures, vows,
peregrinations, with all the rabblement of rites and ceremonies
brought in by man, to be abolished.

7. The supremacy of the pope usurping above all churches, and
especially above all politic realms and governments, or for him to
occupy or usurp the jurisdiction of both the swords, to be denied;
neither that any degree is to be received in the church, but only
priests, deacons, and bishops.

8. The communion under both kinds to be necessary to all people,
according to the institution of Christ.

9. Item, the Church of Rome to be the very Babylon spoken of in the
Apocalypse; and the pope to be the fountain of all error, and the
very antichrist.

10. The pope's pardons and indulgences they reject.

11. The marriage of priests, and of ecclesiastical persons, to be
godly and also necessary in the church.

12. Such as hear the word of God, and have a right faith, to be the
right church of Christ. And to this church the keys of the church are
to be given, to drive away wolves, and to institute the pastors, to
preach the word, and to minister the sacraments.

These be the most principal articles of the Waldenses; albeit some
there be that add more to them; some again divide the same into more
parts: but these be the principal to which the rest be reduced.

As for purgatory, they say that Thomas Aquinas is the author thereof.

Concerning the supper of the Lord, their faith was, that it was
ordained to be eaten, and not to be showed and worshipped; for a
memorial, not for a sacrifice: to serve for the present ministration,
and not for reservation: to be received at the table, not to be
carried out of the doors; according to the ancient use of the
primitive church, when they used to communicate sitting. And this
they prove both by an old chronicle called Chronica Gestorum, as also
by ancient Origen upon the third book of Moses, bringing in his
words, which be these, proving that this sacramental bread ought not
to be received: Whosoever receiveth this bread of the supper of
Christ upon the second or third day after, his soul shall not be
blessed, but polluted. Therefore the Gibeonites, because they brought
old bread to the children of Israel, it was enjoined them to carry
wood and water, &c.

Doctor Austin, (of whom mention is made before,) disputing against
them about this matter of the holy eucharist, urgeth them with this
interrogation; Whether it be the same Christ (present in the
sacrament) which is present at the right hand of the Father? If it be
not the same Christ, how is it true in the Scripture, Una fides,
units Dominus noster Jesus Christus, One faith, one Lord Jesus
Christ? If it be the same Christ, then how is he not to be honoured
and worshipped here as well as there?

To this the Waldenses answer again, and grant that Christ is one and
the same with his natural body in the sacrament which he is at the
right hand of his Father, but not after the same existence of his
body. For the existence of his body in heaven is personal and local,
to be apprehended by the faith and spirit of men. In the sacrament
the existence of his body is not personal or local, to be apprehended
or received of our bodies, after a personal or corporal manner, but
after a sacramental manner; that is, where our bodies receive the
sign, and our spirit the thing signified. Moreover, in heaven the
existence of his body is dimensive and complete with the full
proportion and quantity of the same body wherewith he ascended. Here,
the existence of his complete body, with the full proportion,
measure, and stature thereof, doth not, neither can. stand in the
sacrament. Briefly, the existence of his body in heaven is natural,
not sacramental; that is, to be seen, and not remembered: here it is
sacramental, not natural; that is, to be remembered, not to be seen.

That answer being made to the captious proposition of Dr. Austin, the
Waldenses (retorting the like interrogation to him again) demand of
him to answer them in the like objection; Whether it be all one
Christ substantially and naturally which sitteth in heaven, and which
is under the forms of bread and wine, and in the receivers of the
sacrament? If he grant it to be, then they bid him say, seeing Christ
is as well in the sacrament as in heaven, and as well in the receiver
as in the sacrament, and all one Christ in substance and nature, why
then is not the same Christ as well in the breast of the receiver to
be worshipped, as under the forms of bread and wine in the sacrament,
seeing he is there after a more perfect manner in man than in the
sacrament? for in the sacrament he is but for a time, and not for the
sacrament's sake, but for the man's cause; in man he is not for the
sacrament's cause, but for his own; and that not for a season, but
for ever, as it is written, Qui manducat hunc panem vivet in æternum;
that is, He that eateth this bread shall live for ever, &c.

Moreover and besides, seeing transubstantiation is the going of one
substance into another, they question again with him, whether the
forms of bread and wine remaining, the substance thereof be changed
into the whole person of our Lord Christ Jesus; that is, both into
his body, soul, and Divinity, or not into the whole Christ? If he
grant the whole; then, say they, that is impossible, (concerning the
Divinity,) both to nature and to our faith, that any creature can be
changed into the Creator. If he say the bread is changed into the
body and soul of Christ, not to his Divinity, then he separateth the
natures in Christ. If he say, into the body alone, and not the soul,
then he separateth the natures of the true manhood, &c.; and so it
cannot be the same Christ that was betrayed for us, for that he had
both body and soul. To conclude, to what part soever he would answer,
this doctrine of transubstantiation cannot be defended without great
inconvenience of all sides.

Over and besides, Eneas Sylvius, writing of their doctrine and
assertions, (perchance as he found them, perchance making worse of
them than they taught or meant,) reporteth them after this manner.

The bishop of Rome to be equal with other bishops. Amongst priests to
be no difference of degree. No priest to be reputed for any dignity
of his order, but for the worthiness of his life.

The souls of men departed either do enter into pain everlasting, or
everlasting joy. No fire of purgatory to be found. To pray for the
dead to be vain, and a thing only found out for the lucre of priests.

The images of God (as of the Trinity) and of saints to be abolished.
The hallowing of water and palms to be purely ridiculous. The
religion of begging friars to be found out by the devil. That priests
should not encroach riches in this world, but rather follow poverty,
being content with their tithes and men's devotion. The preaching of
the word to he free to all men called thereunto.

That no deadly sin is to be tolerated, for whatsoever respect of a
greater commodity to ensue thereupon. The confirmation which bishops
exercise with oil, and extreme unction, are not to be counted amongst
the sacraments of the church. Auricular confession to be but a toy:
to suffice for every man to confess himself in his chamber to God.
Baptism ought to be ministered only with pure water, without any
mixture of hallowed oil. The temple of the Lord to be the wide world.
The majesty of God not to be restrained more within the walls of
temples, monasteries, and chapels, so that his grace is rather to be
found in one place than in another.

Priests' apparel, ornaments of the high altar, vestments, corporaces,
chalices, patins, and other church-plate, to serve in no stead. For
the difference and respect of the very place, to make no matter,
where the priest doth consecrate or doth minister to them which do
require. To be suffi cient to use only the sacramental words, without
all other superfluous ceremonies.

The suffrages of saints reigning with Christ in heaven to be craved
in vain; they being not able to help us. In saying or singing the
hours and matins of the day, the time to be but lost. A man ought to
cease from his labour no day, but only upon the Sunday.

The feasts and festivals of saints ought to be rejected. Item, such
fasts as be coacted and enjoined by the church have no merit in them.

The assertions of the Waldenses being thus articled out by Eneas
Sylvius, I thought to give them abroad in English as they are in
Latin; to the intent that as they are the less to be doubted, being
set out of a pope's pen; so that we may the better know what they
were, and also understand how this doctrine, now preached and taught
in the church, is no new doctrine, which here we see both taught and
persecuted almost four hundred years ago. And as I have spoken
hitherto sufficiently concerning their doctrine; so now we will
somewhat briefly touch of the order of their life and conversation,
as we find it registered in a certain old written book of
inquisition.

The manner of the Waldenses is this: They, kneeling upon their knees,
leaning to some bank or stay, do continue in their prayers with
silence so long as a man may say thirty or forty times Pater noster.
And this they do every day with great reverence, being amongst
themselves, and such as be of their own religion, and no strangers
with them, both before dinner and after; likewise before supper and
after; also what time they go to bed, and in the morning when they
rise, and at certain other times also, as well in the day as in the
night. Item, they use no other prayer but the prayer of the Lord, and
that without any Ave Maria, and the Creed, which they affirm not to
be put in for any prayer by Christ, but only by the Church of Rome.
Albeit they have and use the seven articles of faith concerning the
Divinity, and seven articles concerning the humanity, and the ten
commandments, and seven works of mercy, which they have compiled
together in a compendious book, glorying much in the same, and
thereby offer themselves ready to answer any man for their faith.

Before they go to meat they have their grace. Which being said, then
the elder amongst them beginneth thus in their own tongue: God, which
blessed the five barley loaves and two fishes in the desert before
his disciples, bless this table, and that is set upon it, or shall be
set upon it; in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy
Ghost. Amen. And likewise again when they rise from meat, the senior
giveth thanks, saying the words of the Apocalypse, Blessing, and
worship, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, honour, virtue, and strength
to God alone for ever and ever. Amen. And addeth moreover, God reward
them in their bosoms, and be beneficial to all them that be
beneficial to us, and bless us. And the God which hath given us
corporal feeding grant us his spiritual life: and God be with us, and
we always with him. To which they answer again, Amen. And thus saying
grace, they hold their hands upward, looking up to heaven. After
their meat and grace said, they teach and exhort amongst themselves,
conferring together upon their doctrine, &c.

In their doctrine and teaching they were so diligent and painful,
that Reinerius, a writer about their time, (an extreme enemy against
them,) in a long process, wherein he deseribeth their doctrine and
teaching, testifieth, that he heard of one which did know the party,
that a certain heretic, (saith he,) only to turn a certain person
away from our faith, and to bring him to his, (in the night, and in
the winter time,) swam over the river called Ibis, to come to him,
and to teach him. Moreover, so perfect they were then in the
Scriptures, that the said Reinerius saith he did hear and see a man
of the country unlettered which could recite over the whole book of
Job word by word, without book, with divers others which had the
whole New Testament perfectly by heart.

And although some of them rather merrily than unskilfully expounded
the words of John i., Sui non receperunt eum, Swine did not receive
him, yet were they not so ignorant and void of learning, nor yet so
few in number, but that they did mightily prevail, insomuch that
Reinerius hath these words: There was none durst stop them for the
power and multitude of their favourers. I have often been at their
inquisition and examination, and there were numbered forty churches
infected with their heresy, insomuch that in one parish of Cammach
were ten open schools of them, &c.

And the said Reinerius, when he hath said all he can in depraving and
impugning them, yet is driven to confess this of them, where he doth
distinguish their sect from other sects, and hath these words: This
sect of Leonists hath a great show of holiness, in that both they
live justly before men, and believe all things well of God, and hold
all the articles contained in the Creed; only they do blaspheme the
Romish Church and hate it, &c.

Now to touch somewhat their persecutions. After they were driven out
of Lyons, they were scattered into divers and sundry places, (the
providence of God so disposing,) that the sound of their doctrine 
might be heard abroad in the worid. Some, as I said, went to Bohemia,
many did flee into their provinces of France, some into Lombardy,
others into other places, &c. But as the cross commonly followeth the
verity and sincere preaching of God's word, so neither could these be
suffered to live in rest. There are yet to be seen the consultations
of lawyers, archbishops, and bishops of France, as Narbonensis,
Arelatensis, Aquensis, and Albanensis, devised amongst themselves,
which yet remain in writing, for the abolishing and extirpating of
these Waldenses, written above three hundred years ago; whereby it
appeareth that there was a great number of them in France.

Besides, there was a whole council kept in Tholouse about three
hundred fifty and five years before, and all against these Waldenses,
the which also were condemned in another council at Rome before that.

What great persecutions were raised up against them in France by
these four archbishops before mentioned, it appeareth by their
writings; whereof I will recite some of their words, which towards
the end be these: Who is such a stranger that knoweth not the
condemnation of Waldenses, the heretics, done and past so many years
ago, so famous, so public, followed upon with so great labours,
expenses, and travail of the faithful, and sealed with so many deaths
of these infidels, so solemnly being condemned and openly punished?
Whereby we may see persecution to be no new thing in the church of
Christ, when antichrist so long before (even three hundred years)
began to rage against these Waldenses. In Bohemia likewise after
that, the same, called by the name of Thaborits, (as Sylvius
recordeth,) suffered no little trouble. But never persecution was
stirred up against them or any other people more terrible, than was
in these later years in France by the French king, in the year of our
Lord one thousand five hundred and forty-five; which lament able
story is described in Sleidan, and hereafter, in the process of his
book, as we come to the order of years, shall be set forth (by the
grace of Christ) more at large. In the which persecution is declared
in one town, Cabriera, to be slain, by the captain of Satan,
Sinerius, eight hundred persons at once, without respect of women or
children of any age; of whom forty women, and most of them great with
child, thrust into a barn, and the windows kept with pikes, and so
fire set to them, were all consumed. Besides, in a cave not far from
the town Mussium, to the number of five and twenty per sons with
smoke and fire were the same time destroyed. At Merindolum the same
tyrant. (seeing all the rest were fled away,) finding one young man,
caused him to be tied to an olive tree, and to he destroyed with
torments most cruelly; with much other persecution, as shall appear
hereafter, in the history translated out of Sleidan into English.

But to return again to higher times, from whence we digressed.
Besides that, Reinerius above mentioned speaketh of one in the town
of Cheron, a glover, which was brought in this time to examination,
and suffered. There is also an old monument of process, wherein
appeareth four hundred forty and three to be brought to examination
in Pomerania, Marchia, and places thereabouts, about the year of our
Lord one thousand three hundred ninety and one.

And thus much touching the origin, doctrine, and the lamentable
persecutions of the Waldenses; who, as is declared, first began about
the time of this King Henry the Second.



43. OTHER EVENTS DURING THE REIGN OF KING HENRY II.

During the reign and time of this King Henry the Second, the city of
Norwich was destroyed and burnt by the men of Flanders. Also the town
of Leicester. Nottingham wasted and the burgesses slain by the earl
of Ferrers. The town of Berwick destroyed by the Scots. The king of
Scots was taken in war by Englishmen. A.D. 1174. The town of
Huntingdon taken and burnt. The town of Canterbury by casualty if
fire burnt with all the churches. speciallv with the Trinity church,
where Becket was worshipped, A.D. 1170. William, king of Scots, with
David his brother, and all the barons of the realm, did homage to the
king of England. Ireland made subject to England. Decreed us a
council in Normandy, that no boys or children should possess any
benefice. A council of Lateran was holden at Rome, where were three
and thirty articles concluded, A.D. 1179. The French king came in
pilgrimage to Thomas Becket, the king of England meeting him by the
way, A.D. 1184. After the death of Richard, archbishop of Canterbury,
who followed after Thomas Becket, succeeded Baldwinus; who, of a
Cistercian monk, being made a bishop, is said never to eat flesh in
his life. Whom a certain poor woman, bare and lean, meeting him in
the street, desired to know of him whether it were true that was said
of him, that he never did eat flesh. Which thing when he had affirmed
to be true, Nay, (saith she,) that is false, for you have eaten my
flesh unto the bone; for I had but one cow wherewith I was sustained,
and that have your deans taken from me. True, true, said the bishop,
and thou shalt have another cow as good as that, &c.

Moreover, in the reign of the said King Henry, about the year of our
Lord 1178, I find in the story of Roger Hoveden and others, that in
the city of Tholouse was a great multitude of men and women whom the
popes commissioners, to wit, Peter, cardinal of St. Chrysogon. and
the popes legate, with the archbishops of Narbon and Bituriensis,
Reginald, bishop of Bath, John, bishop of Pictavia, Henry, abbot of
Clarevallensis, &c., did persecute and condemn for heretics; of whom
some were scourged naked, some chased away, some compelled to abjure.
Concerning whose articles and opinions I have no firm ground to make
any certain relation, forsomuch as I see the papists many times so
false in their quarrelling accusations, untruly collecting men's
sayings, not as they meant, and meaning not as they said; but
wresting and depraving simple men's assertions after such a subtle
sort as they lust themselves to take them. But this I find, how one
of the said commissioners or inquisitors (Henry the abbot) in a
certain letter of his wrote thus of them: After a new opinion he
affirmed, that the holy bread of eternal life, consecrated by the
ministry of the priest, was not the body of the Lord, &c,

Mary, the daughter of King Stephen, being the abbess of Ramsey, was
married in this king's days to Matthew, earl of Bullen: which
marriage Thomas Becket did work against, and did dissolve; by reason
whereof he procured himself great displeasure with the said earl, &c.

The same year a certain child was crucified of the Jews in the town
of Gloucester, A.D. 1161. After the same manner the wicked Jews had
crucified another child before in the city of Norwich, in the days of
King Stephen, in the year of our Lord 1145.

A collection was gathered through all England and France, two pence
of every pound. for the succour of the East Christians against the
Turks, in the year of our Lord 1167.

Babylon was taken and destroyed, and never since repaired, by
Almaricus, king of Jerusalem, A.D. 1170.

In the year 1173, almost all England was diseased with the cough.
About which year also William, king of Scots, was taken in battle,
and imprisoned in England.

Great war happened in Palestina, wherein the city of Jerusalem, with
the cross and king of the city, and others of the temple, was taken
of the Saracens, and most part of the Christians there either slain
or taken. Cruel murder and slaughter there was used by the Turks, who
caused all the chief of the Christians to be brought forth and
beheaded before his face. Insomuch that Pope Urbanus the Third for
sorrow died, and Gregory the Eighth, next pope after him, lived not
two months. Then, in the days of Pope Clement the Third, news and
sorrow growing daily for the loss of Palestina and destruction of the
Christians, King Henry of England, and Philip the French king, the
duke of Burgundy, the earl of Flanders, the earl of Campania, with
divers other Christian princes, with a general consent, upon St.
George's day, took the mark of the cross upon them, promising
together to take their voyage into the Holy Land. At which time the
stories say the king of England received first the red cross, the
French king took the white cross, the earl of Flanders took the green
cross, and so likewise other princes diversely divers colours,
thereby to be discerned every one by his proper cross. But King Henry
(after the three years were expired, in which he promised to perform
his oyage) sent to the pope for further delay of his promise,
offering for the same to erect three monasteries. Which thing he thus
performed: In the church of Waltham he thrust out the secular
priests, and set in monks for them. Secondly, be repaired again and
brought in the nuns of Amesbury, which before were excluded for their
incontinent life. And thus performed he his promise made before to
the pope, A.D. 1173.

The king of Scots did his homage and allegiance to the king of
England, and to his son, and to his chief lords; promising that all
the earls and barons of Scotland should do the like with their
posterity. Item, all the bishops and abbots of the Church of Scotland
promised subjection and sub mission to the archbishop of York, in the
year of our Lord 1175.

The custom was in this realm, that if any had killed any clerk or
priest, he was not to be punished with the temporal sword, but only
excommunicated and sent to Rome for the pope's grace and absolution.
Which custom in the days of this king began first to be altered by
the procurement of Richard, archbishop of Canterbury, in the year of
our Lord 1176.

London bridge first began to be made of stone by one Peter, priest of
Colechurch, in the year 1176.

St. William of Paris was slain of the Jews on Maundy Thursday;
wherefore the Jews were burned and he counted a saint, A.D. 1177.

Ireland subdued to the crown of England by this king, A.D. 1177.

Under the reign of the said King Henry, about the five and twentieth
year of his reign, Ludovicus the French king, by the vision of Thomas
Becket appearing unto him in his dreams, and promising to him the
recovery of his son, if he would resort unto him at Canterbury, made
his journey into England to visit St. Thomas at Canterbury, with
Philip, earl of Flanders; where he offered a rich cup of gold, with
other precious jewels, and one hundred vessels of wine yearly to be
given to the convent of the church of Canterbury; notwithstanding the
said Philip in his return from England, taking his journey to Paris
to visit St. Denis, in the same his pilgrimage was stricken with such
cold, that he fell into a palsy, and was benumbed of the right side
of his body. A. 1178.

Stephanus episcopus Redomonsis was wont to make many rhymes and
gaudish prose to delight the ears of the multitude: to whom a little
before his death this verse was sounded in his ear: Desine ludere
temere, nitere propere surgere de pulvere, A.D. 1178.

Albingenses denied transubstantiation in the sacrament of Christ's
body and blood, about the city of Tholouse; also that matrimony was
not a sacrament, &c., in the year of our Lord 1178.

King Henry separated himself from his wife Eleanor, and held her many
years in prison, as some think, for the love of Rosamond. Which
seemeth to me to be the cause why God afterward stirred all his sons
up to war against him, and to work him much sorrow, in the year 1179.
Notwithstanding the said Eleanor was shortly after reconciled to him.

St. Frideswide was translated unto Oxford in the year 1179.

In the year 1180, there came to the council of Pope Alexander one
Pisanus Burgundio, a man very cunning both in Greek and Latin, which
brought and presented to the council the Homilies of Chrysostom upon
the Gospel of St. John, translated out of Greek into Latin, and said
that he translated likewise a great part of his Exposition upon
Genesis; saving, moreover, that the said Chrysostom had made
expositions in Greek upon the whole Old Testament, and also the New.

The monks of Charterhouse first entered into this land in the year
1180.

In the year 1181, Richard Pech, bishop of Coventry, before his death
renounced his bishopric, and became a canon in the church of St.
Thomas by Stafford.

About the latter time of this King Henry, one Hugo, whom men were
wont to call St. Hugh Lincoln, born in Burgundy, and prior of the
monks of Charterhouse, was preferred by the king to the bishopric of
Lincoln, who after his death is said to do great miracles, and
therefore was counted a saint, A.D. 1186.

Baldwinus, archbishop of Canterbury, began the building of his new
house and church of Lambeth; but, by the letters of Clement the
Third, he was forbidden to proceed in the building thereof, A.D.
1187.

I do find likewise in the foresaid written chronicle, remaining in
the hands of one William Cary, citizen of London, that this forenamed
king, Henry the Second, gave to the court and Church of Rome, for the
death of Thomas Becket, forty thousand marks of silver, and five
thousand marks of gold, in the year of our Lord 1187.

Mention was made a little above of Almarike, king of Jerusalem, which
destroyed Babylon, so that it was never after to this day restored,
but lieth waste and desolate, wherein was fulifiled that which in the
prophets in so many places was threatened to Babylon before. This
Almarike had a son named Baldwin, and a daughter called Sibylla.
Baldwin from the beginning of his reign was a leper, and had the
falling sickness, being not able for feebleness cf body (although
valiant in heart and stomach) to satisfy that function.

Sibylla his sister was first married to one Willermus, marquis of
Mount Ferrat, by whom she had a son, called also Baldwinus. After
him, she was married to another husband, named Guido de Liziniaco,
earl of Joppe and of Ascalon. Upon this it befell, that the foresaid
Baldwin the leper, son of Alinaricus, being thus feeble and infirm,
as is said, called his nobles together, with his mother and the
patriarch, declaring to them his inability, and by the consents of
them committed the under-government of the city unto Guido, the
husband of Sibylla his sister. But he being found insufficient, or
else not lucky in the government thereof, the office was translated
to another named Raimundus, earl of Tripolis. In the mean time, the
soldan with his Saracens mightily prevailed against the Christians,
and overran the country of Palestina; in which mean time Baldwin the
king departed. Whereby the kingdom fell next to Baldwinus, the son of
Sibylla by her first husband Willermus; the which Baldwinus, being
but five years old, was put to the custody of Raimundus aforesaid.
Who also in his minority, before he came to his crown, died; where by
the next succession by descent fell to Sibylla, the wife of Guido
above mentioned. The peers and nobles, joining together in council,
offered unto the said Sibylla, as to the lawful heir to the crown,
that she should be their queen, with this condition, that she should
sequester from her by solemn divorcement the foresaid Guido her
husband; but she refused the kingdom offered to her on that
condition, till at last the magistrates, with the nobles in general,
granted unto her, and by their oaths confirmed the same, that
whomsoever she would choose to be her husband, all they would take
and obey as their king. Also Guido her husband, with like petition
among the rest, humbly requested her, that the kingdom for his sake,
or for his private loss, might not be destitute of government. At
length she, with tears consenting to their entreaty, was contented,
and solemnly was crowned their queen, who after the manner again
received their fidelity by their oath. Whereupon Guido, without all
hope both of wife and kingdom, departed home quietly to his own. This
done, the queen, assembling her states and prelates together, entered
talk with them about the choosing of the king, according to that
which they had promised and sworn unto her, and to obey him as their
king whom she would name to be her husband. Thus, whilst they were
all in great expectation, waiting every man whom she would nominate,
the queen with a loud voice said to Guido that stood amongst them,
Guido my lord, I choose thee for my husband, and yielding myself and
my kingdom unto you, openly I protest you to be the king. At these
words all the assembly, being amazed, wondered that one simple woman
so wisely had beguiled so many wise men. And worthy was she, no
doubt, to be commended and extolled for her singular virtue, both of
faithful chastity and high prudence: so tempering the matter, that
both she obtained to her husband the kingdom, and retained to herself
again her husband, whom she so faithfully loved, A.D. 1186.



44. PERSON AND CHARACTER OF HENRY II

As I have hitherto described the public acts of King Henry, so now I
mean to touch something of his private conditions. He was of mean
stature, eloquent and learned, manly and bold in chivalry, fearful of
the mutability and chance of war, more lamenting the death of his
soldiers dead than loving them alive; none more courteous and liberal
for the obtaining of his purpose, in peace and tranquillity none more
rough; stubborn against the stubborn, sometimes merciful to those 
whom he had vanquished; strict to his household servants, but liberal
to strangers; publicly of public things liberal, sparing of his own;
whom once he took a displeasure against, hardly or never would he
receive again to favour: somewhat lavish of his tongue, a willing
breaker of his promise, a lover of his ease, but an oppressor of his
nobility, a severe revenger and furtherer of justice, variable of
word, and crafty in his talk, an open adulterer, a nourisher of
discord amongst his children; moreover, the papists bearing him (for
Thomas Becket's quarrel, and such-like, as may be gathered) no good
will, term him to be an adversary of the faith, the mall and beetle
of the church.

Also in the chronicle entitled Scala Mundi, I find of him, that he
followed the steps, manners, and conditions of Henry the First, his
grandfather, in every point. He preserved firm peace and executed
strict justice through all his dominions. He loved marvellous well
his forests; and again those that were transgressors, either to his
crown or person, he most severely punished.

Moreover, in a certain history entitled De Regibus Angliæ, I find
that this king was sundry times admonished to reform and amend his
life, and first by one that was an old man in the castle of Cardiff
in Wales, at that time of the year called Dominica in albis, the
eighth day after Easter; where also after that he had heard mass, and
was going to take his horse, there stood a certain man by him,
somewhat yellowish, (his hair being rounded, lean and ill favoured,)
having on a white coat, and being barefoot, who looked upon the king,
and spake on this wise: Good old king, (that done, thus he
proceedeth,) the King saluteth you and his blessed mother; John
Baptist and Peter straitly charge you, that upon the Sundays
throughout all your dominions there be no buying and selling, or
other servile business, (those only except which appertain to the
preparation of meat and drink,) which thing if thou shalt observe,
whatsoever thou takest in hand, thou shalt happily finish and bring
to pass. Then spake the king in French unto the knight that held his
horse by the bridle; Ask of this churl whether he dreamed this or
not. And in the mean while that the knight should have interpreted
the king's words and message, he spake before and said, Whether this
be a dream or not, mark well what day this is; for unless that thou
do these things and amend thy life, such news shalt thou hear within
these twelve months, that will make thee lament and mourn till thy
dying day. And when these words were spoken, the man vanished out of
his sight; and within one year next after, Henry, Gaufrid, and
Richard, his sons, forsook him their father, and took part with the
French king. The king of Scots, the earl of Chester, and earl of
Leicester, made an insurrection against the king. Many other
premonitions were given also to the king, but all these did he little
esteem. The second which did admonish him, was a certain Irishman,
giving him certain secret signs. And thirdly, a certain knight of
Findeseie, named Philip de Easterbie, sailing with him over into
France, declared unto the king in Normandy seven articles which he
should amend. Which thing if he would do, he should reign seven years
most honourably, and should take the holy cross from his enemies; or
else he, in the fourth year, should die in a great ignominy. The
three first things were these, which he at his coronation sware to
observe; that is, to defend the church, to maintain good laws, and to
condemn no man to death without judgment. The fourth was, for the
restoring of inheritance wrongfully taken; the fifth was, in doing
justice without reward; the sixth was, of ministers' and officers'
wages and stipends; the seventh was, of expelling the Jews, leaving
them some money to depart withal. But the king not amending his life,
there rose up against him three strong enemies; that is to say, his
three Sons with the French king. But after that the king forsooth had
gone on pilgrimage to the martyr's tomb barefoot, William, king of
Scots, and the earls of Chester and Leicester, were taken at Alnwick.

In the five and thirtieth year of his reign, being in the castle of
Chiven in Normandy, he died: at whose death those that were present
were so greedy of the spoil, that they left the body of the king
naked, and not so much could be found as a cloth to cover it, till
that a page coming in, and seeing the king so ignominiously to lie,
threw his cloak upon his nether parts; wherein, saith the author, was
verified the surname which from his youth he bare, being called Henry
Court Mantil.



45. RICHARD I.
MASSACRE OF JEWS AT THE CORONATION
RIOT IN YORK CATHEDRAL

IN this year of the Lord above recited, which was 1189, King Richard,
the eldest son of Henry the Second, succeeding his father, entered
his crown; at which time Pope Cle ment sat at Rome, succeeding after
Gregory, which died a little before with sorrow for the loss of the
holy cross.

During the time of whose coronation it befell, that notwithstanding
the king, the day before his coronation, by public edict commanded
both the Jews and their wives not to presume either to enter the
church, or else his palace, during the solemnization of his
coronation, amongst his nobles and barons, yet (whilst the king was
at dinner) the chieftain of the Jews, with divers other of his Jewish
affinity and superstitious sect, against the king's prohibition,
together with other persons, entered the court gates. Whereat a
Christian man being offended, struck one of them with his hand or
fist, and bade him stand further from the court gate, as the king had
given in commandment; whose example others also following, being
displeased against the Jews, offered them the like contumely. Others
also, supposing that the king had so commanded indeed, as using the
authority of the king, fell upon all the Jews that stood by without
the court gate. And first they beat them with their fists, but
afterwards they took up stones and such other things as they could
get, and threw at them, and beat them therewith; and thus driving
them from the court gates, some of them they wounded, some they slew,
and some they left for dead.

There was amongst this number of the. Jews one which was called the
blessed Jew of York, which was so sore wounded and beaten with the
rest, that, for fear of his life, he said he would become a
Christian, and was indeed of William, the prior of the church of St.
Mary of York, baptized; whereby he escaped the peril of death he was
in, and the persecutors' hands. In the mean while, there was a great
rumour spread throughout all the city of London, that the king had
commanded to destroy all the Jews. Whereupon as well the citizens as
in numerable people more, being assembled to see the king's
coronation, armed themselves and came together. The Jews thus being
for the most part slain, the rest fled into their houses, where for a
time, through the strong and sure building of them, they were
defended. But at length their houses were set on fire, and they
destroyed therein.

These things being declared to the king, whilst he with his nobles
and barons were at dinner, he sendeth immediately Ranulfe de
Glanville, the lord high steward of England, with divers other noble
men, to accompany him, that they might stay and refrain these so bold
enterprises of the Londoners; but all was in vain; for in this so
great a tumult, none there was that either regarded what the nobility
said, or else any whit reverenced their personages, but rather with
stern looks and threatening words advised them (and that quickly) to
depart. Whereupon they, with good deliberation thinking it the best
so to do, departed; the tumult and insurrection continuing till the
next day. At which time also the king, sending certain of his
officers into the city, gave them in commandment to apprehend and
present some such as were the chiefest of the malefactors; of the
which three were condemned to be hanged, and so were; the one, for
that he had robbed a Christian's house in this tumult, and the other
two for that they fired the houses, to the great danger of the city.
After this, the king sent for him that from a Jew was converted to
Christianity, and, in the presence of those that saw where he was
baptized, the king asked him whether he was become a Christian or
not. He, answering the king, said, No: but, to the intent he might
escape death, he promised to do whatsoever the Christians would have
him. Then the king asked the archbishop of Canterbury (other
archbishops and bishops being present) what were best to be done with
him. Who unadvisedly answering said, If he will not be a man of God,
let him be a man of the devil; and so revolted he again to Judaism.

Then the king sent his writs to the sheriffs of every county, to
inquire for the authors and stirrers of this outrage. Of whom three
were hanged, divers were imprisoned. So great was then the hatred of
Englishmen against the Jews, that as soon as they began to be
repulsed in the court, the Londoners, taking example thereof, fell
upon them, set their houses on fire, and spoiled their goods. The
country again, following the example of the Loudoners, semblably did
the like. And thus the year which the Jews took to be their jubilee,
was to them a year of confusion; insomuch as in the city of York, the
Jews obtaining the occupying of a certain castle for their
preservation, and afterward not willing to restore it unto the
Christians again, when they saw no other remedy but by force to be
vanquished, first they offered much money for their lives; when that
would not be taken, by the counsel of an old Jew amongst them, every
one with a sharp razor cut another's throat, whereby a thousand and
five hundred of them were at that present destroyed. Neither was this
plague of theirs undeserved; for every year commonly their custom was
to get some Christian man's child from the parents, and on Good
Friday to crucify him, in despite of our religion.

King Richard, after the death of his father, coming unto remembrance
of himself, and of his rebellion against his father, sought for
absolution of his trespass, and, in part of satisfaction for the
same, agreed with Philip the French king, about Easter next ensuing,
to take his voyage with him for the re covery of Christ's patrimony,
which they called the Holy Land. Whereupon the said King Richard
immediately after his coronation, to prepare himself the better
towards his journey, set to sale divers of his manors, whereof
Godfrey Lucy, then bishop of Winchester, bought a couple for two
thousand marks, to wit, Wergrave and Melenge. The abbot of Bury
bought another for a thousand marks, called Middlesay. Hugh Pusaz,
bishop of Durham, bought the lordship of Seggesfield, or Sedberga,
with the wapentake, and all the appurtenances thereto be longing; he
bought also the earldom of Northum berland; whom when the king should
solemnize after the manner of secular earls, merrily with a mocking
jest, Lo, (said he,) of an old bishop I have made a young earl. And
because the said bishop had professed before by a solemn vow to visit
the Holy Land, to be released of his vow, he compounded with the pope
for a great sum of money therefore, and moreover gave to the king a
thousand marks to remain at home, as the chief justice of England,
Over and besides, the king set out all that he had to sale, woods,
castles, townships, lordships, earl doms, baronages, &c.; ordaining
also divers new bishops, and not without some advantage (as appeared)
to his purse; feigning moreover his old seal to be lost, that they
which had lands to hold might be driven to renew their writings again
by the new seal, whereby great substance of money was gained.

Above all this, by the commandment of Pope Clement the Third, a tenth
also was exacted of the whole realm, in such sort, as the Christians
should make to the king seventy thousand pounds, the Jews sixty
thousand. King Richard, after his coronation, sent certain earls and
barons unto Philip the French king in the time of his parliament at
St. Denis, desiring him to remember his promise made for the recovery
of Christ's holy patrimony out of the Saracens' hands. Unto whom he
sent word again in the month of December, certifying him how he had
bound himself by solemn oath, deposing upon the Evangelists, that he,
the next year following, about the time of Easter, had certainly
prefixed to address himself towards that journey; requiring him
likewise not to fail, but to be ready at the term above limited,
appointing also the place where both the kings should meet together.

The next year then ensued, which was 1190, in the beginning of which
year, upon Twelfth even, fell a foul northern brawl, which turned
well near to a fray, between the archbishop new elected of the church
of York, and his company, on the one side, and Henry, dean of the
said church, with his catholic partakers, on the other side, upon
occasion as followeth: Gaufridus, or Geoffrey, son to King Henry the
Second, and brother to King Richard, whom the king had elected a
little before to the archbishopric of York, upon the even of
Epiphany, which we call Twelfth day, was disposed to hear even-song
with all solemnity in the cathedral church; having with him Hamon the
chanter, with divers canons of the church. Who tarrying something
long, belike in adorning and attiring himself, in the mean while
Henry the dean and Bucardus the treasurer, disdaining to tarry his
coming, with a bold courage lustily began their holy even-song, with
singing their psalms, ruffling of descant, and merry piping of
organs. Thus this catholic even-song with as much devotion begun, as
to God's high service proceeding, was now almost half complete,
whenas at length (they being in the midst of their mirth) cometh in
the new elect with his train and guards, all full of wrath and
indignation, for that they durst be so bold, not waiting for him, to
begin God's service; and so eftsoons commanded the choir to stay and
hold their peace. The chanter likewise by virtue of his office
commandeth the same. But the dean and treasurer on the other side
willed them to proceed; and so they sung on, and would not stint.
Thus the one half crying ngainst the other, the whole choir was in a
roar; their singing was turned to scolding, their chanting to
chiding; and if instead of the organs they had had a drum, I doubt
they would have sol-faed by the ears together.

At last, through the authority of the archbishop and of the chanter,
the choir began to surcease and give silence. Then the new elect, not
contented with that had been sung before, with certain of the choir
began the even-song new again. The treasurer, upon the same, caused
by virtue of his office the candles to be put out; whereby the even-
song, having no power further to proceed, was stopped forthwith. For
like as without the light and beams of the sun there is nothing but
darkness in all the world; even so you must understand the pope's
church can see to do nothing without candle-light, albeit the sun do
shine never so clear and bright. This being so, the archbishop, thus
disappointed on every side on his purpose, made a grievous plaint,
declaring to the clergy and to the people what the dean and treasurer
had done, and so upon the same suspended both them and the church
from all Divine service, till they should make to him due
satisfaction for their trespass.

The next day, which was the day of Epiphany, when all the people of
the city were assembled in the cathedral church, as their manner was,
namely, in such feasts, devoutly to hear Divine service (as they call
it) of the church, there was also present the archbishop and the
chanter, with the residue of the clergy, looking when the dean and
treasurer would come and submit themselves, making satisfaction for
their crime. But they, still continuing in their stoutness, refused
so to do, exclaiming and uttering contemptuous words against the
archbishop and his partakers. Which when the people heard, they in a
great rage would have fallen upon them; but the archbishop would not
suffer that. The dean then and his fellows perceiving the stir of the
people, for fear, like pretty men, were fain to flee, some to the
tomb of St. William of York, some ran unto the dean's house, and
there shrouded themselves, whom the archbishop then accursed. And so
for that day the people returned home without any service.

After this, King Richard, preparing to set all things in an order
before his going, committed the whole government of the realm
principally to William, bishop of Ely, his chancellor, and to Hugh,
bishop of Durham, whom be ordained to be the chief justice of all
England in his absence, the one to have the custody of the Tower,
with the oversight of all other parts of the land on this side of
Humber, the other (which was the bishop of Durham) to have charge
upon all other his dominions beyond Humber, sending moreover unto
Pope Clement in the behalf of the foresaid William, bishop of Ely,
that he might be made the pope's legate through all England and
Scotland; which also was obtained. Thus the bishop being advanced in
high authority, to furnish the king towards his setting forth,
provideth out of every city in England two palfreys and two sumpters,
and also out of every abbey one palfrey and one sumpter.

These things and other thus set in a stay, the king, according to his
former appointment, about the time of Easter, sailed into France,
where the French king and he conferring together, because they could
not make ready at that time of Easter, concluded to take a longer
day, proroguing their voyage till after Midsummer. In which mean
time, the king occupying himself in redressing and stablishing such
things as further were to be ordered there determined that Gaufridus
and John, his brethren, should not enter into England in three years
after his departure; nevertheless he released that bond afterward to
his brother John. Then he appointed the captains and constables over
his navy, and set laws to be observed in his journey upon the seas;
but especially his care was to make unity and concord between parties
that were at variance, and to set them together at one. At which time
the long contention began also to be appeased, which so many years
had continued between Baldwinus, archbishop of Canterbury, and his
monks of Christ's church; the discourse whereof, although it be
somewhat tedious to be set forth at large, being enough to make a
whole tragedy; yet to the intent the age now present may see what
great conflicts and disquietness, upon what little trifles, have been
stirred up, what little peace and unity hath been not only in this
church, but commonly in all other churches under the pope's catholic
regiment, I thought it not labour ill bestowed somewhat to
intermeddle in opening to the eyes of the reader the consideration of
this matter. Wherein first is to be understood, that the archbishops
of Canterbury, commonly being set up by the pope, especially since
the time of the conquest, have put the kings of this land to much
sorrow and trouble, as appeared by William Rufus and Lanfranc, and
also Anselm; by Henry the First and Anselm, King Stephen and
Theobald, Henry the Second and Beeket, &c. For which the kings of
this land have used the more care and circumspection to have such
archbishops placed in the see, as either should stand with them, or
at the least should not be against them.



46. DISPUTE BETWEEN THE ARCHBISHOP AND ABBOT OF CANTERBURY

Now to the purpose of our matter intended. First, after Lanfranc, who
was archbishop twenty years, the see standing vacant five years,
succeeded Anselm, and sat seventeen years; after whom, the see
standing vacant four years, succeeded Rodulphus, and continued nine
years; then followed William, who sat twelve years, and died in the
year 1137: after whom came Theobaldus in the time of King Stephen.
This Theobaldus, being no great favourer of the monkish generation,
fell out with Jeremias, prior of the house of Canter bury, for
certain causes between them. for which the archbishop, taking stomach
against the prior, would lay the sentence of interdiction aninst him.
The prior seeing that, to save himself, made his appeal to Pope
Innocent. The archbishop, provoked the more by that, deposed him from
the priorship, and placed one Walter in his room. Jeremias,
notwithstanding, making his complaint and appeal to Rome, obtained
letters from the pope to Henry, bishop of Winchester, being the
pope's legate: by the virtue whereof he, against the heart of the
archbishop, was restored, and Walter displaced. Nevertheless, the
said Jeremy, not willing there to continue with displeasure of the
archbishop, shortly after of his own accord renounced his priory, and
Walter again was received in his stead. Not long after this followed
the general council at Rhemes, in the year 1140. To the which council
Theobald, contrary to the commandment of the king, would needs
resort, to show his obedience to the pope. Wherefore, at his
returning home again, the king took such displeasure with him, that
within a while after the archbishop was driven to avoid the realm,
and flee into France; where he, by censure of interdiction, suspended
divers churches and religious houses which refused to come to the
council; and also hearing how the king had seized upon all his goods,
he interdicted likewise all the king's lands, whatsoever belonged to
the crown: so that the king in conclusion was fain to compound with
him, and fall to agreement, which was about the year 1148.

After this, in the year of our Lord 1151. after the death of Hugh,
abbot of St. Austin's in Canterbury, Silvester was elected by the
convent to be their abbot, in the reign of King Stephen. Which
Silvester, when he came unto Theobald the archbishop to make his
profession of subjection unto him, and to receive of him
consecration, the archbishop was contented, so that the abbot would
come to Christ's Church in Canterbury, and there make his profession.
But to this Silvester in no case would grant to take his consecration
there; but else in any other church, wheresoever the archbishop
would, he was contented. Whereunto when the archbishop in no wise
would agree, Silvester making a great bag of money, went to Rome,
where he obtained of the pope for money (for what cannot money do at
Rome?) letters that the archbishop should consecrate the abbot in his
own church of St. Austin, and also not exact of him any profession of
canonical subjection. Whereupon the archbishop was compelled against
his will to come to the abbot's church, and there at the pope's
commandment to consecrate him simply, and without any further
profession to be required.

Then Walter, prior of Christ's Church in Canterbury, seeing that, and
perceiving how prejudicial and derogatory the example thereof would
be to the honour and majesty of their church, through counsel of his
brother went thither; and notwithstanding the doors were straitly
watched and kept, yet by means he at last got in. And as he saw the
archbishop attired in his pontificalibus, ready to minister
consecration to the abbot, he stepped straight to the archbishop, and
eftsoons appealeth him to Rome, for the great injury wrought against
the church of Canterbury; forbidding him, in the name of him to whom
he appealed, not to proceed any further. And so this holy
consecration was for the present time stayed. For the which Silvester
with a new purse of money was fain to travel and trot again to Rome,
where he complaining of the archbishop, and accusing him of contempt
of the pope, in not executing the commandment set down, obtaineth
again new letters with more effectual charge to the foresaid
archbishop, that he, without any profession, simply should give to
Silvester his consecration in his own church, all manner of stay, or
let, or appellation to the contrary notwithstanding. And so, in
conclusion, the abbot, contrary to whatsoever the archbishop and all
the monks of Canterbury could do, was in his own church made abbot,
and had the victory for that time. Notwithstanding, the archbishop
left not the matter so, but within five years after obtained of Pope
Adrian, that Silvester should make profession of his obedience to the
archbishop, and so he did.

In few years after this, died King Stephen, A.D. 1154, and after him
Theobald the archbishop, A.D. 1159, after he had sat three and twenty
years; after whom, through the instant procurement of King Henry the
Second, was placed Thomas Beeket, the king's chancellor, A.D. 1162,
of whose sturdy rebellion against the king, because sufficient hath
been said before, it shall not need to make a double labour now about
the same.

After the death of Becket, much ado there was between King Henry and
Odo, prior of Canterbury, about the election of a new archbishop. For
the king seeing the realm so oftentimes encumbered by those popish
archbishops, and fearing lest the monks of Canterbury should elect
such another as would follow the steps of Thomas Becket, most humbly,
with cap in hand, and courtesy of knee, desired Odo the prior, that
at his request, and for contentation of his mind, such a one might be
elected whom he would appoint (appointing and naming a certain
bishop, which was a good simple man after the king's liking); but the
prior dissemblingly answering the king again, that he neither could
nor would without the consent of his convent give promise to any man,
in fine, contrary to the king's so humble request, agreed to the
election of another, which was the prior of Dover, called Richard,
A.D. 1173, who continued in that see eleven years.

And here was renewed again the like variance between this archbishop
and Roger, abbot of the Austin monks in Canterbury, as was before
mentioned between Theobaldus and Silvester. For when the said Roger,
after his election to be abbot. must needs take his consecration at
the archbishop's hand, neither would the archbishop grant it unto
him, uuless he made profession of obedience, according to the ancient
custom of his predecessors: then Roger, consulting with his monks,
first denied so to do, but at length was contented, so it might not
be done in the archbishop's church, but in any other church where he
would, underwriting this clause withal, Salvis utriusque ecclesiæ
privilegis, that is, Saving the privileges of both churches. To this
the archbishop said again, first, that he should make his due and
canonical profession, and that he should not come to him with writing
or underwriting, but should say in his heart, Salve sancta parens, or
Salve festa dies, not Salvis privilegiis, or any such-like thing.
Whereunto when the Austin monks in no case would consent, nor the
archbishop otherwise would grant his benediction, Roger, the abbot,
was fain to post to Rome, and there, to bring the archbishop in
hatred in the court of Rome, made his abbey tributary to Pope
Alexander.

The pope, well contented with this, not only granteth the abbot his
desire, but also, in contumely of the archbishop, dubbeth the abbot
with all such ornaments as to a prelate appertain; and so in the year
1178 sent home the abbot triumphantly with his ring and mitre, and
other ensigns of victory, with letters also to the archbishop,
enjoining him immediately upon the sight thereof to consecrate the
abbot in his own church, and without making any profession. Although
with these letters the archbishop was shrewdly pressed, yet
notwithstanding his stout heart would not stoop for this; but he laid
his appeal against the same, and so the consecration for that time
was suspended.

Then Roger, for his more defence, getting the king's letters,
travelled up the second time to Rome, where grievously he complained
to Pope Alexander of the archbishop. At the same time a general
council was summoned to be kept at Lateran, where Richard, the
foresaid archbishop, was also looked for amongst other bishops to be
present. Who then came as far as Paris; but, being there, durst
approach no further, and so retired home again. Whereupon the pope
being offended with his contempt, without any more delay exalted the
abbot with his own consecration, and invested him with all pomp and
glory; howbeit providing before that the said consecration should
redound to no prejudice against the liberties of the mother church of
Canterbury, and so upon the same wrote to the archbishop his letters
of certificate with this addition annexed, Saving the liberties and
dignity of the church of Canterbury, &c.

After the council ended, Roger, the abbot, returneth home, although
with an empty purse, yet full of victory and triumph. The archbishop,
again thinking to work some grievance to the Austin monks, had
procured in this mean time letters from Pope Alexander unto the
bishop of Durham, and abbot of St. Albans, that they should cause the
said Roger, abbot of the Austin monks, to show unto the archbishop
all the old privileges of his house; which indeed, being showed,
seemed to be rased and new written, with points of lead, not after
the manner nor style of that age, nor pretending any such antiquity
as should seem to reach from the time of Austin, but rather newly
counterfeit.

All this notwithstanding, the abbot, bearing him bold upon the pope's
favour, ceased not still to disquiet and overcrow the archbishop by
all ways he could, in exempting all his priests and laymen, belonging
to his jurisdiction, from the archbishop's obedience; forbidding also
that any of his should come to his chapters or synods, or fear any
sentence of his curse or excommunication. Whereupon the archbishop,
about the month of November the same year, sailing over to Normandy
where the king was, thought to take his journey to the pope to
complain of the abbot; but being stayed by the king, he was not
suffered to pass any further, the king labouring what he could to
bring them to agreement. Nevertheless the pope and his Romans, (saith
my story,) caring more for gold and silver than for justice, still
stirred coals of sedition and debate between them.

The next year after this ensuing, which was the year of our Lord
1184, died Richard the archbishop aforesaid, in the eight and
thirtieth year of King Henry the Second. After whose decease much
trouble happened about the election of a new archbishop, between the
king and monks of Canterbury. And now to enter here into the story of
Baldwin above mentioned; first the king sent to the monks. that they
should consider with themselves about the election of their
archbishop, and to be ready against the time that he would send for
them to the court. Upon this the convent, gladly assembling together,
agreed in themselves upon one, whom they thought chiefly to prefer:
yet naming four more, that if the king would refuse one, the other
yet might stand. Now the practice in the monks was, first, to keep
the election only in their own hands, as much as they could. And,
secondiy, ever to give the election either to some prior or monk of
their own house, or to some abbot or bishop which sometime had been
of their company. Whereby as much inconvenience and blind
superstition was bred in the Church of England, so the same disliked
both the king and the bishops not a little.

As this passed on, the king, when he saw his time, willed the monks
of Canterbury to be cited or sent for, to understand what they had
concluded in their election. Whereupon the monks sent up their prior,
called Alanus, with certain other monks, to Reading, where the king
then lay, about the month of August. Who at first were courteously
entertained; but after the king had intelligence whom they had
nominated and elected, they were sent home again with cold cheer, the
king willing them to pray better, and to advise more earnestly upon
the matter amongst themselves. Alanus the prior with his fellows thus
departed; who coming home, in conclusion, so concluded amongst
themselves, that they would remit no jot of their liberties to the
king without the pope's consent and knowledge. The king understanding
hereof, sent his ambassadors likewise to the pope, for the fortifying
of his cause, being in the mean time grievously offended with the
prior, saying that be was proud, and would make archbishop whom he
listed, and would be the second pope in England, &c.

Not long after this, as these letters were sent up to Rome, the king
sent for Alanus the prior, and more of the monks, to come to him;
whom he entreateth, desiring them in gentle speech, that they would
show so much gentleness and favour to him, being their lord and king,
as becometh his friends and subjects to do, as to confer with the
bishops of the realm about this matter, and to take some bet I ter
counsel, so as might redound to God's glory, his I honour, and wealth
of the public state, with other I like words to the same effect.

To whom when the prior had answered again with thanks and due
reverence, according to the king's request, the bishops and monks
went to confer together about the matter. And, first, the bishops
marvelled why the monks should exclude them out of the election,
seeing they were professed and suffragans to the said church of
Canterbury: Neither is there any prince, quoth the bishop of Bath,
that will refuse our counsel. There be some councils, said the monks,
whereat yon may be called; but as touching the doing of this
election, it pertaineth not unto you, further than to publish only
and denounce the party whom we have chosen. The bishop of London then
asked if they had already made an election. No election, said the
prior, as yet, but only we have denominated the persons. Then have ye
proceeded further, quoth he, than ye ought, having commandment from
the pope not to proceed without us. And with that was brought forth
the pope's letter. commanding that within forty days the bishops of
England, and the prior and convent of Canterbury, should elect an
able and fit person to their archbishop. About the scanning of these
letters was much ado. The bishops said they were first named, and
therefore ought to have most interest in this election. The monks
said again, that they also were not excluded, and required to have a
transcript of the letter, whereof much doubt was made.

After long contention, when they could not agree, the king, coming
between them both, called away the bishops from the monks, supposing,
by separating the one from the other, to draw both parties to his
sentence. But that would not be; for the monks, stiffly standing to
their liberties, would lose no pre-eniinence of their church, still
alleging how, by the ancient privileges of the church of Canterburr,
the convent should choose their pastor and bishop, and the prior was
but to publish and denounce the person. The bishops again replied,
that it was their right to appoint their archbishop and metropolitan,
which were bishops and suffragans; and, namely, the bishop of London
also being dean of the said church of Canterbury. The king then, as
umpire between them, yet favouring rather the side of the bishops,
desired them to agree together in peace. When that would not prevail,
be set the lord steward and other noblemen to entreat the prior to
draw to some agreement; at least to be contented with this form of
election, which was, that the bishop of London or some other bishops
should declare the election in these words.

"We bishops, and the prior and convent of Christ's church in
Canterbury, with the assent of our lord the king, do choose such a
person to be archbishop," &c. Or else thus; that the prior should
pronounce forth the election in these words, saying, "The bishops of
England. and I, prior, and the convent of Canterbury, with the assent
of our lord and king, do choose such a person." &c.

Upon this, the prior said he would convent with his convent. Who with
much ado were content to grant to the king's desire; but afterward,
being required to put down the same in writing, that they refused to
do; yet notwithstanding relented at last to the king. But when the
bishops made excuses for the absence of their fellow bishops, so the
matter for that time stayed; and the king, sending home the monks
again to their house in peace, deferred that business to a further
day, which was till the first day of December; commanding the prior
with his fellows the same day not to fail, but to be at London about
the choosing of the archbishop.

As the day prefixed came, the prior with his company were also
present, who giving attendance all that day and the next day also
following, so were driven off till the third day after. At length the
lord steward, with other nobles of the realm. were sent unto them
from the king to declare, that whereas the king before had divided
the bishops from the monks, that they both might have their election
by themselves, after the form of a bill which was put down in
writing: now the mind of the king was, that the monks, taking another
way, should join with the bishops, and so, having the matter in talk
together, should proceed jointly in the election.

Against this many things were alleged by the prior and his mates,
complaining much upon the bishops, which said that the bishops had
ever holden with the kings against the liberties of their church and
archbishops. As, first, they stood against Anselm for King William:
then against Theobald for King Stephen; after that, against Thomas
Becket for King Henry: and after him, did supplant the election of
Richard their archbishop: and now again went about to practise and
work against this their election present, &c. At last the prior, with
his fellows, concluding, desired they might speak with the king
himself. Who, eftsoons coming unto them, willed them as good men to
be contented, and go talk with the bishops about the election;
promising that whom they agreed upon, he also would grant his assent
unto the same. To whom when the prior again had objected the writings
that before were made, Truth it is, (said the king,) such writings
were made, but I neither may nor will go against the council of my
realm; and therefore agree, said he, with my bishops and abbots, and
remember that the voice of the people is the voice of God.

Upon this the prior with his monks, seeing no other remedy, went to
the bishops to confer, according to the king's request, about the
election; who then were willed by the bishops to nominate whom they
would, and the bishops would likewise name theirs. So that when the
prior, with his complices, had named three, after their choosing the
bishops said they would nominate but one; and so did, which was the
bishup of Worcester, willing the prior to go home, and to confer with
his convent about the same. To whom shortly after the bishops sent
certain priests, to signify to the convent, that they, according to
the pope's letters, should repair to the bishops concerning the
election of the archbishop; also declared moreover to them, that the
persons whom they had named were good men; but he whom they had to
nominate was a more worthy man, whom they both had nominated, and
also would elect. The monks, marvelling hereat, sent two monks with
the archdeacon of Canterbury to the king.

This done, immediately after the return of the priests, the bishops
caused all the bells of the city to be rung, and Te Deum to be sung
for the archbishop new elect. Whereof when the two monks brought
tidings to the convent at Canterbury what was done at London, they
were all in a marvellous dump. The king hearing this, and perceiving
the stiffness of the monks, in all haste sent messengers to
Canterbury with gentle words, to will the prior to come to the king,
and certify him of the purpose of his monks; unto whom the prior,
eftsoons being come, declareth, in the name of the whole convent,
that in no case he nor the monks would ever, while the world stood,
agree to that election of the bishops; unless the king in his own
person would come to Canterbury, and there openly, before the whole
convent, protest by his own mouth the foresaid election to be nought
and void; and so, returning to London again, openly likewise before
the clergy and the people would repudiate and reject the same; and
furthermore, that the party also elected should open y in the same
place protest and say, that he neither would nor ought to take that
function upon him, unless he entered by the consent of the prior and
convent of Canterbury; and all this to be done in the same place
where the bishops had made their election before; and so
peradventure, (said they,) at the king's so earnest suit and request,
they would gratify his will, and ratify the said election with the
voices of their consent, To make the story short, after great hold
between the secular clergy on the one side, and the regular order on
the other side, and after the king's indignation against the prior,
and the swooning of the prior before the king, at length the king, to
take up the matter, and to save the prior's life, was fain to perform
in his own person all those conditions above prescribed by the monks.

And thus have ye heard the tragical election of the bishop of
Worcester, named Baldwin, made archbishop of Canterbury. Now what a
troublesome time the said Baldwin had with the monks in governing the
church of Canterbury, here followeth likewise not unworthy to be
considered.

In the first year the archbishop showed himself friendly and loving
to the monks; the next year following he began to appear somewhat
rough unto them. The manner then was of the house of Christ's Church,
toward the time of the Nativity and of Easter, to receive certain
presents or gifts of their farmers or tenants, which the cellarer
should take and lay up. Those presents the archbishop began first to
intercept from the monks, and to bestow them upon his secular clerks.
After this, he took three churches or benefices, (which the monks
claimed as proper to themselves,) and placed in them three of his
chaplains. After this, he encroacheth to his hands certain tenements,
revenues, and victuals, belonging before to the monks, (as they
said,) and committed the custody thereof to certain of his own clerks
and household servants.

The monks, which had home so much with the archbishop before, seeing
this, could forbear him no longer, but needs would make their appeal
against him. The archbishop, not much regarding that, waxed thereby
more fierce against them, in somuch that such farms and tenements as
he before had let alone, now he received to his own occupying, with
many other grievances wherewith he greatly vexed the monks, so that
three abbots were fain to come and reconcile the archbishop and the
monks; which reconciliation was this, that the monks should let fall
their appeal, and the archbishop should restore again to them their
farms and tenements. But as touching the benefices and the presents,
the archbishop still kept them in his hands, for a further trial of
their obedience and patience. Nevertheless, some there were of the
ancient monks which in no case would give over the foresaid appeal,
before the archbishop made a full restitution of all together.

After this agreement, such as it was, between the monks and him, the
archbishop soon after sent up to Rome one of his chaplains, (unto
whom be had given one of the benefices afore mentioned,) partly for
confirmation of his benefice, partly also to obtain licence for the
archbishop to build a church, which he intended to erect of secular
priests, near unto the town of Canterbury. Which being obtained of
the pope, the archbishop, not a little glad thereof, began now more
and more to war fierce against the monks, not only in taking from
them their churches and oblations, but also in aggravating the whole
state of their house, which he intended either to subvert, or greatly
to diminish, to pluck down the pride and stubbornness of the monks.
Wherefore, taking with him certain other bishops, (whom he knew bare
no good will to that monkish generation,) he went to the king,
declaring how he had a good purpose in his mind to erect a new and a
solemn church, in the honour of St. Thomas of Canterbury, of secular
priests or canons; and therefore desired of the king to have his
favourable licence to the same. The king right well perceiving the
purpose of the archbishop whither it tended, as to the bridling of
the stiffnecked monks, was the, more willing to give assent, if he
were not also the chief worker of that matter himself.

The intent of the archbishop in planting of that new church was, to
found there divers prebends, and to make both the king, and every
bishop being his suffragans, prebendaries thereof, so that every one
of them should confer one prebendship to the same foundation; minding
there to consecrate bishops, to make his chrismatory, to celebrate
his synods, and to administer all other things belonging unto the
function of his see, and the same to be called Hakington church. The
monks, not ignorant how the archbishop privily intended the
desolation and subversion of their house and liberties, consulting 
upon the matter, determined at length among themselves to appeal to
the see of Rome, namely, for these three causes against the
archbishop: First, for spoiling them of their gifts and oblations;
secondly, for depriving them of their churches and benefices; and
thirdly, for erecting a new foundation of secular canons, to the
derogation and overthrow of their religious order; giving admonition
to the archbishop before by their monks sent to him of this their
appellation. To whom the archbishop answered, that the foundation
which he went about was to no derogation, but rather to the
fortification and honour, of their house. Who answered again, that it
was, and could not otherwise be, but to their subversion. And what
should let me then, (said the archbishop,) but I may build in mine
own ground what I will? No, (said they,) no ground of yours, but your
ground is our ground, as all other things that you have by right are
ours, forsomuch as you have them not of yourself, but of the church
and for the church's cause. All which things have been given neither
to you, nor to the archbishops, but unto the church of Chist; and
therefore (said they) all such as appertain unto us inwardly and
outwardly, with the persons also, and the whole state of our church,
we submit unto the pope's protection, and now here make our appeal to
the see apostolic, assigning also the term when to prosecute the
same.

The archbishop receiving this appellation, and saying that he would
answer to the same either by himself, or by his responsal, within
three days after, which was the sixteenth of December, came to
Canterbury; where the monks understanding how he was in mind to place
new secular priests in the church of St. Stephen, where the monks had
served before, came to the church to stop the proceeding of the
archbishop by way of appeal. Whereof the archbishop having warning
before, deferred the matter till the next day after. On which day the
monks, again being sent by Honorius the prior into the church,
charged the archbishop, in the name of Almighty God, and by virtue of
their appeal made to the apostolic see, to surcease those his doings;
charging also the parson of the church in no wise to suffer those
secular clerks to be admitted into the church. All which yet
notwithstanding the archbishop proceedeth in his business, And,
first, placing in his clerks, be suspendeth the prior from his
administration. Then he adjureth the porters of the gate, upon their
oath. to let none of the monks pass out of the house without his
licence. The monks likewise he commanded, by virtue of obedience, not
to stray any where abroad without his leave. And furthermore, one of
the foresaid monks, which served the appeal against him, he utterly
banished from that convent. Upon this, the day next following,
Honorius the prior, trusting (saith the story) on God and St. Thomas,
took his way to Rome, sent in commission by the convent, to pro
secute the appeal against the archbishop.

In this mean season a new war began between the said archbishop and
the monks about their rents and revenues, which the archbishop would
have committed to the receiving and keeping of three monks, but the
sub-prior Geoffrey, with the convent, in no case would suffer that;
whereabout there was a foul stir. The archbishop, craving the aid of
the king, fIrst had three bishops sent down to him, of
Coventry, Norwich, and Worcester. Who, being instant with the monks
to submit their cause into the king's hands, like as the archbishop
had done, they utterly refused it; especially seeing they had already
referred the whole state of their cause to the determination of the
apostolical see. The king, seeing no other remedy, came himself with
the archbishop into the chapter house; where he commanded first the
doors to be kept fast, that none should enter but which by name were
called for. Amongst whom were two bishops, to wit, of Norwich and
Durham, and one Peter Blessensis, a learned man, (whose epistles be
yet extant in libraries,) a chief worker in this matter against the
monks. Then was called in Geoffrey the sub-prior, with a few other
monks whom he brought with him, The king then first talking with the
archbishop and his company, and afterwards with the monks, laboured
to entreat them that they would let fall their appeal, and so stand
to the arbitrement of him and of the bishops, concerning the cause
which was between the archbishop and them in traverse.

To this the monks answered, that these were good words, but served
not for that time, forsomuch as their cause was already translated to
the court of Rome, and now was presently in hearing before the pope's
Holiness; and therefore they could not, nor would, do that injury to
their lord pope, to refuse him, and to put the matter unto the
judgment of any other. Then was it required of the monks, that they
would put the matter in compromise, in case the prior would consent
thereto; upon this intent, that if the prior consented, and the monks
not, then should they run in contempt and disobedience; or if the
monks would consent, and the prior not, then should the prior be
excluded the realm. The wily monks, being not unprovided of this
subtlety, made their answer, that seeing they had sent their prior
forth in their commission, it stood not with their honesty to give
any determinate consent, without the knowledge and before the return
of the said prior; unless the archbishop first would promise to make
full restitution of all that he had wrongfully wrested from them.
When the king could get no other answer of the monks, neither could
move the archbishop to release the sentence of their suspension,
unless they would confess and acknowledge their fault, he, so parting
from them, passed over into France.

Not long after this came a messenger from Rome, bringing letters from
Pope Urban to the archbishop, wherein the pope considering and
tendering (as he said) the enormous grievances done against the
monks, straitly enjoined and commanded him, within ten days after the
receiving thereof, to release the sentence of his suspension against
the prior and others of the said convent, and also to retract and
restore again to the monks whatsoever he plucked from them since the
time of their appeal first made. Who in case he should deny, or
neglect the doing hereof, commission was given to three abbots, of
Battle, of Feversham, and of St. Austin's, with ample authority to
perform the same, &c. The archbishop, receiving these letters,
brought to him by a monk of the foresaid house, first made his
excuse, that the pope was misinformed. But the monks, not contented
with that excuses when they would needs know what answer be would
make to the pope's nuncio, his answer was, that he had yet ten days
given him of the pope. In which mean time the archbishop went to
London, and there in the church of St. Paul consecrated his holy oil
and cream, (making one of the pope's seven sacraments,) which was
grievously taken in the church of Canterbury. At last the ten days
being ended, when the archbishop refused to accomplish that which was
in the pope's letter enjoined him, the three abbots aforesaid, to
execute the pope's commandment, came at their day assigaed to
Canterbury, and there assoiled all such as the archbishop before had
suspended, and in the end certified Pope Urban by letters what they
had done.

The archbishop hearing this, within four days after sent two of his
clerks, which appealed the three abbots aforesaid up to Rome; and he
himself in the mean time prepared busily for the building up of his
church, sending to all churches in England, upon releasement of their
sins, to confer unto the same; and, to make the more haste. For lack
of free-stone he made up his building with timber, and such other
stuff as he could get.

The prior, Honorius, all this while remained still at the court of
Rome, giving attendance upon the pope; who, having intelligence of
the archbishop's doings, procured another letter of Pope Urban to the
whole clergy of England, straitly enjoining them, that none should
confer to the new fraternity of Baldwin, archbishop of Canterbury. To
these letters the archbishop showed such reverence, that where before
he had planted his chapel of wood and boards, now he provided the
same to be builded of lime and stone.

By this time Peter Blessensis, with other messengers of the
archbishop, seeing Honorius the prior to be gone from the court of
France, resorted to the court of Rome, bringing with them letters of
credit from the king, from the archbishop, and also from other
bishops of the realm; but the pope, reading only the king's letters,
and the archbishop's, the residue he cast into a window by, saying he
would read them at further leisure. Then the pope giving audience in
his consistory to hear their cause, first came in Peter Blessensis
with the agents of the archbishop, exhibiting their letters and
propounding their requests to the pope, which were, that restitution
should be made by the monks to the archbishop, wherein they had
injured him. Item, that the things which had been granted before to
the prior in that court might be called in again. Thirdly, that the
archbishop might have licence to proceed in building his college of
canons, &c. After this was called in M. Pilleus, the attorney for the
monks of Canterbury. Who, alleging many great things against the
archbishop for his contempt and disobedience to the pope's precepts,
required that he should make restitution to the monks for his
injuries done to them; and also that his new foundation of secular
canons, tending to the overthrow of the conventual church of
Canterbury, should be utterly razed and thrown down to the ground.
Thus between these parties pleaing and repleaing one against the
other, much hard hold there was; but in conclusion, for all the
king's letters, and for all that the archbishop and bishops could do,
the matter went on the monks' side. So that there was no remedy, but
the pope would needs have the archbishop's new building come down,
and the monks to be restored again to their full possessions. The
execution whereof was committed to the three abbots aforesaid, to
wit, of Battle, of Feversham, of St. Austin's in Canterbury, and to
Geoffrey, sub-prior of Canterbury.

Which things being thus determined at Rome, then Radulph Glanvile,
lord steward of England, writing to the said abbot of Battle, and to
the subprior and convent of Canterbury, commandeth them in the king's
name, and upon their oath and fealty given unto him, that they nor
any of them do proceed in this controversy between the monks and the
archbishop of Canterbury, before they come and talk with him, there
to know further of the king's pleasure; and furthermore charging the
convent of Canterbury not to enter further in any examinations as
concerning the archbishop's matters; and also citing the sub-prior of
the said house, to appear before him at London, at the feast of St.
James the same year, which was 1187. Notwithstanding he, excusing
himself by sickness, sent two monks in his stead, and so kept himself
at home. To whom commandment was given, that the monks of Canterbury
within fifteen days should sail over to Normandy to the king, and
there show the tenor and evidences of their privileges; and also that
such stewards and bailiffs whom they had placed in their farms and
lordships, contrary to the will of the archbishop, should be removed.
And likewise the three abbots in the king's name were commanded in no
wise to execute the pope's commandment against the archbishop. Not
long after this the archbishop took shipping at Dover, and went over
to the king, where he ordained three principal officers over the
monks of Christ's Church, the sacrist, the cellarer, and the
chamberlain, contrary to the will of the convent, with other
grievances more, whereby the monks were not a little offended, so 
that upon the same they made a new appellation to the pope. Whereupon
Pope Urban, by the setting on of Honorius the prior, who was now come
again to the court, wrote to him another letter after a sharper and
more vehement sort, to the effect as followeth.

"In that we have borne with your brotherhood hitherto, and have not
proceeded in such grievous manner against you as we might, although
being thereto greatly provoked, the chiefest cause was this, that we
supposed your heart would have relented from the oppression of the
conventual church of Canterbury committed unto you, if not for our
reverence, which you seem to have contemned more than became you, yet
at least for fear of God's judgment. For well we hoped, our
conscience persuading us to the same, that after you had obtained
that high state and dignity in the Church of England, you would have
been an example to others of obedience and reverence to be given to
the see apostolic of all ecclesiastical persons. Wherefore at the
first beginning both of our and also of your promotion, we did not
spare to advance and honour you as we have done few others besides,
thinking no less but that we had found a faithful friend of the
church for our honour. Wherein we perceive now (which maketh us not a
little to marvel) our expectation greatly deceived. And whom we well
trusted to be a sure stay for the maintenance of our estate, him now
we find a persecutor against us in our members.

"For whereas we sundry times have written to you in the behalf of our
brethren, and the church committed to your charge, that you should
desist from disquieting them, and not vex or disturb their liberties,
at least for reverence of us; you not only in this. but in other
things more, (as commonly is reported of you in all places,) set at
light our letters, and appellations made unto the apostolical see.
What you have wrought against them after their so manifold
appellations laid unto us, and our inhibitions again unto you, we are
ashamed to utter. But revolve and consider in your mind, if ye have
well done, and advise in your own conscience what you have done. We
for our part, because we neither may nor ought with deaf ears to pass
over the clamours of the brethren, and such contempt of the apostolic
see; although our biddings and warnings given to you seem to be all
in vain, yet notwithstanding we send our mandates again unto your
brotherhood, in these apostolical writings, directly and in virtue of
obedience commanding you, that whether you be present in your church,
or absent, all that notwithstanding, whatsoever you have done in
building of your chapel, (which you to the destruction of the
monastery of Canterbury have erected) after the time of their appeal
made to us, or our inhibition sent to you, you fail not of your
proper costs and charges to demolish; undoing again, and making void,
whatsoever ye have begun and innovated concerning the institution of
the canons, and other things belonging to the erection of the said
chapel; accounting, moreover, and reputing the place where the chapel
was to be accursed and profane; and also that all such, whosoever
have celebrated in the same place, shall stand suspended till the
time they appear before our presence. Commanding furthermore, that
all those monks whom you have presumed to remove from their office,
or to excommunicate, since the time of their appeal made, you restore
and assoil again; renewing also and restoring all such farms, manors, 
tenements, and oblations as you, after their appeal made, have
inveigled from them; and, finally, that you innovate nothing touching
the state of that monastery during the time of this controversy
depending before us. Giving you to understand, that in case you shall
continue in your stubbornness and rebellion upon this present
warning, or defer the execution of this precept thirty days after the
receiving hereof, we shall appoint others to execute the same;
enjoining also your suffragans, that as you shall show yourself
disobedient and rebelling to us, so they all shall refuse likewise to
give any obedience or reverence unto you," &c.

Another letter besides this the pope also sent to the three abbots
aforesaid for the correction of these enormities. Likewise another
letter was sent to King Henry the Second, wherein the pope enjoineth
and requireth him, upon remission of his sins, not to dissemble and
bear with the archbishop in his oppression of his monks, but to help
that those things may be amended, where he hath trespassed against
them.

These pontifical letters were written A.D. 1187, the third day of
October; and in the nineteenth day after, the same month, the said
Pope Urban died. In the which year, and about the which month,
Baldwin, king of Jerusalem, was taken with many noblemen of Soldan
the Saracen, and Jerusalem lost, after that it had been in the
possession of the Christians, and so continued the space of
eightyeight years and eighty days, from the time that Godfridus
Bolonius did first win it from the infidels.

After the receiving of those letters of Pope Urban above specified,
both the king and archbishop, with all the bishops of the realm, were
marvellously quailed, glad now to please and speak fair to the monks,
promising all things to be done and restored to them after the best
sort. Neither was the king now and archbishop so submiss; but the
monks on the other side were as brag and jocund, being fully assured
that all now was their own. In the narration of which history (as it
is set in Gervasius at large) this we have to note by the way. in
what fear and thraldom kings in those days were under the pope, who
could not be masters over their own subjects, but that every pilled
monk, or pelting prior, upon virtue of their appeal to the court of
Rome, and making their house tributary to the pope, was able not oaly
to match, but to give checkmate unto the best king christened, as not
in this story only may appear.

It followeth then in the story of these monks, that as they were thus
in the midst of their joy and jollity, suddenly cometh news of the
death of Pope Urban, their great calipha, and also how that Gregory
the Eighth was placed in his room. who was a special friend and
favourer of the archbishop; which as it did greatly encourage the
king and the archbishop, so the monks on the other side were as much
discomforted, so that now all was turned up side down. For whereas
the king and the archbishop before thought they had lost all, and
were glad to compound with the monks and to seek their favour; now
were the monks on the contrary side fain to crouch to the king, and
glad to have a good countenance; who then resorting to him, and
finding him altered both in word and gesture, desired he would
confirm and grant that which of late before he had promised. To whom
it was answered again by the king, that seeing the archbishop had
granted to them their sacrist, their chamberlain, and their cellarer,
they should have no more restored of him; neither would he suffer the
liberties and privileges of the archbishop to be impaired or take any
wrong. And touching the new chapel of St. Thomas, (said he.)
whereabout ye strive so long. with the canonships and other buildings
belonging thereto, the same I receive into my hands, so that none
shall have anything to do therein but my self, &c. In like manner of
the archbishop such another like answer they received, and of bishops
little better. So the monks, sent away with a flea in their ear, went
home again out of Normandy to their cell.

Now the archbishop, having the monks where he would, wrought them
much grievance; but that continued not very long. For within two
months after, and less, died Pope Gregory the Eighth, about the
sixteenth day of December following. After whom succeeded Pope
Clement the Third, who, following the steps of Urban, bent all his
power with the monks against the archbishop, sending divers precepts
and mandates in the year next following, which was the year 1188,
with an imperious letter, willing and commanding him to desist from
his oppression of the monks, and to throw down his new chapel.
Whereupon the archbishop made his appeal, and minded to go to Rome;
but was called back of the king, being ready to sail over. In the
which year Honorius the prior died at Rome of the plague, which was
some help and comfort to the archbishop, for whom the archbishop made
Roger Noris prior, against the wills of the convent. After this,
about the latter end of the same year, Pope Clement sent down his
legate, called Radulphus, a cardinal, to Canterbury with another
letter more sharply written to the same effect unto the archbishop.

Furthermore, in the year next after, which was 1189, he wrote also
the third letter to him. In the which year also died King Henry the
Second; after whom succeeded King Richard his son, who, joining
likewise with the archbishop, took his part strongly against the said
monks. At last, after much ado on both parts, and after great
disturbance, and imprisoning divers of the monks, King Richard,
preparing his voyage towards Jerusalem, and studying first to set
peace between them, consulted and agreed with the bishops and abbots
about a final concord in this matter between the archbishop and monks
of Canterbury; which at length on both parts was made, upon these
conventions which follow.

1. That Roger Noris should be deposed, whom the archbishop had made
prior against their wills; whom the king then at the request of the
archbishop promoted to be abbot of Eusham. 2. Item, that the
archbishop should pluck down his chapel, which he builded in the
suburbs of Canterbury, against the minds of the monks. 3. Item, that
the foresaid monks should make profession of their obedience and
subjection to the archbishop, as they had done to his other
predecessors before him. 4. Item, as touching all other complaints
and injuries, except only the chapel. and deposition of Roger Norris,
the prior.) the monks should stand to the arbitrement of the king, of
the archbishop, and the prelates. 5. Item, that the monks, kneeling
down before the king in the chapter-house, should ask the archbishop
forgiveness. Which being done, they went all together to the church,
and sang Te Deum for this reformation of peace.

The next day after the archbishop, coming into the chapter, restored
to the convent their manors and farms again; also he discharged the
prior which he had made before; desiring them likewise, that if he
had offended them either in word or deed, they would from their heart
remit him. This reconciliation being made between the archbishop and
the convent, then the archbishop going about to dissolve the building
of his new church, though he changed the place, yet thought not to
change his intent; and therefore making exchange of lands with the
bishop and monks of Rochester. purchased of them their ground in
Lambeth, A.D. 1191. Which done, he came to his clerks whom he had
placed to be canons in his new college of Hakington, and also willed
them to remove all their goods and furniture to Lamheth over against
Westminster, where he erected for them another church, and there
placed the said canons. About which college of Lambeth afterwards
much trouble likewise ensued, by the stirring of the said monks of
Canterbury, in the time of Hubert the archbishop. in the reign of the
said King Richard. and in the year of our Lord 1196. Furthermore,
after the deposing of Roger Noris, prior of Canterbury aforesaid,
Baldwin the archbishop, enforced to grant them another prior, by the
assent of the king and of the convent assigned Osbernus to be their
prior, who had taken part before with the archbishop; but the monks,
not pleased with him, after the death of Baldwin the archbishop
removed him again.

And thus have you the tedious discourse of this catholic tragedy.
between the monks of Canterbury and their archbishop, scarce worth
the rehearsal; notwithstanding. this I thought to give the reader to
see of purpose, first, to show forth unto the world the stout
sturdiness of this monkish generation, who, professing profound
humility in their coat, what little humility they had in their heart,
what pride and arrogancy in their conversation, and what hypocrisy in
their religion, this one example among a thousand others may give
some experience. Se condly, that the posterity now may see how little
kings could then do in their own realms for the pope. And thirdly, to
the intent it may more no toriously appear to all readers what strife
and de bate, what dissension and division, what little unity and
concord, hath always followed the pope's catho lic church,
wheresoever the corrupt religion and usurped ambition of the pope
prevailed. For, not to speak only of this monkish house of
Canterbury, what church cathedral, collegiate, or conventual, what
see, church, monastery, or chapel, was under all the pope's
government, but ever there happened some variance, either between the
king and the archbishop, as between King William and Lanfranc, King
Henry the First and Anselm, King Stephen and Richard, King Henry the
Second and Becket, King John and Stephen Langton, King Henry the
Third and Bonifaee, &c.? or else between archbishop and archbishop,
for making profession, for carrying the cross, for sitting on the
right hand of the popes legate, &c.? or else between archbishops and
their suffragans, or between archbishops and their convents, or
between bishops and monks, between dean and chapter, between monks
and secular priests, monks of one sort against another, friars of one
order against another, students against friars, townsmen against
scholars, &c.? As, for example, what discord was between the
archbishop of Canterbury and Richard, archbishop of York; between
Lanfranc and Archbishop Thomas; between Theobald, archbishop of
Canterbury, and Silvester, abbot of St. Austin's; between Walter of
Christ's Church, and Silvester, abbot aforesaid; between William,
archbishop of Canterbury, and Jeremias. prior of Canterbury, A.D.
1144; between the monks of Canterbury and Odo their prior, for
translating the relics of Dunstan; between King Stephen and Roger,
bishop of Salisbury, the bishop of Lincoln and Roger, bishop of Ely,
his son, A.D. 1138; between Pope Innocent and Anacletus the space of
seven years, the cardinals for money (saith Gervasius) sometimes
holding with the one, sometimes with the other; at last the election
was determined by a sore battle between Lotharius, emperor, and
Rogerius, duke of Apulia, A.D. 1137; also between Pope Innocent the
Fourth, and Frederic the Second, emperor; between King Henry the
Third and William Rale, bishop of Winchester, when the king had the
gates of Winchester town to be shut against him, A.D. 1250; between
Boniface, archbishop of Canterbury, and canons of St. Paul: item,
between the said Boniface and monks of St. Bartholomew, who sat there
in harness in his visitation, A.D. 1250; between the abbot of
Westminster and monks of the same house, A.D. 1251: item, between the
foresaid Wiffiam Rale, bishop of Winchester, and Boniface, archbishop
of Canterbury, for a priest of the hospital in Southwark, A.D. 1252;
between the said Bonifaee and canons of Lincoln after the death of
Robert Grosthead, for giving of prebends, A.D. 1253; between the
monks of Coventry and canons of Lichfield, for choosing their bishop
in the time of King Henry the Third?

And what should I speak of the discord which cost so much money
between Edmund, archbishop of Canterbury, and the monks of Rochester,
for choosing Richard Wandor to be their bishop, A.D. 1328; between
Robert Grosthead, bishop of Lincoln, and canons of the same house,
for which both he and they were driven to travel to Rome, A.D. 1244;
between Gilbert, bishop of Rochester, delegate to Archbishop Baldwin,
and Robert, the pope's legate, for sitting on the right band of the
legate in his council at Westminster, A.D. 1190; between the abbot of
Bardeny and the said Grosthead about the visitation of their abbey,
A.D. 1242: item, between the convent of Canterbury and the said
Robert, bishop of Lincoln, A.D. 1243; between Hugo, bishop of Durham,
and Hubert, bishop of Sarum, and Geoffrey, archbishop of York, A.D.
1189; between William, bishop of Ely, the king's chancellor, and the
canons of York, for not receiving him with procession, A.D. 1190;
between the abbot of Westminster and his convent of black monks, whom
King Henry the Third had much ado to still and agree, A.D. 1249:
item, between the foresaid bishop of Lincoln and the abbot of
Westminster; likewise between Nicholas, bishop of Durham, and John,
abbot of St. Alban's, A.D. 1246; also between Hubert, archbishop of
Canterbury. and the monks there for the house of Lambeth, A.D. 1146?
And what a stir was between the preaching friars and the grey friars,
mentioned in Matthew Paris, for superiority, A.D. 1243; also between
the said grey friars and the prelates and doctors of Paris about nine
conclusions, condemned of the prelates to be erroneous?

1. Concerning the Divine essence, that it cannot be seen of the
angels or men glorified.

2. Concerning the essence of the Holy Ghost.

3. Touching the proceeding of the Holy Ghost, as he is love.

4. Whether men glorified shall be in cœlo empyreo, or in cœlo
crystallino.

5. That the evil angel at his first creation was evil, and never
good.

6. That there have been many verities from the beginning which were
not of God.

7. That an angel in one instant may be in divers places.

8. That the evil angel never had whereby he might stand, no more had
Adam in his state of innocency.

9. That he which hath meliora naturalia, that is to say, more perfect
strength of nature working in him, shall have more full measure of
necessity to obtain grace and glory. To the which articles the
prelates answering, did excommunicate the same as erroneous,
affirming that grace and glory shall be given according to that God
hath elected and predestinated, &c.

In like manner, between the said Dominic friars and the grey friars,
what a brawl and tumult was about the conception of our Lady, whether
she was without original sin conceived or not, in the reign of King
Henry the Seventh, and King Henry the Eighth? Add moreover to these
the four and twenty heinous schisms, and not so few, which happened
between pope and pope in the Church and see of Rome. But what do I
stand to recite the divisions and dissensions of the pope's church,
which is as much almost as to reckon the sands of the sea? For what
church, chapter, or convent was in all that religion, which either
had not some variance with themselves or with others? Upon which
continual strife and variance among them, the readers hereof may
judge of them and their religion as pleaseth them; in the mean time,
my judgment is this, that where such dissension dwelleth, there 
dwelleth not the Spirit of Christ.



47. RICHARD I. (contd.)
THE CRUSADE

These things thus discoursed touching the tragical dissension between
Baldwin, the archbishop, and the monks of Canterbury; now let us
proceed, by the Lord's assistance, in continuing of our story. After
King Richard had thus, as is declared, set the monks and the
archbishop in some agreement, and had composed such things as were to
be redressed within the realm, he advanced forward his journey, and
came unto Turaine, to meet with Philip the French king; and so after
that went to Vizelay; where the French king and he joining together,
for the more continuance of their journey, assured themselves by
solemn oath, swearing fidelity one unto the other; the form of whose
oath was this: That either of them should defend and maintain the
honour of the other, and bear true fidelity unto him of life,
members, and worldly honour; and that neither of them should fail one
the other in their affairs: but the French king should aid the king
of England in defending his land and dominions, as he would himself
defend his own city of Paris, if it were besieged; and that Richard,
king of England, likewise should aid the French king in defending his
land and dominions, no otherwise than he would defend his own city of
Rouen, if it were besieged, &c.

But how slenderly this oath did hold between these two kings, and by
whose chief occasion first it fell asunder, the sequel of the history
(the Lord willing) shall declare hereafter.

Furthermore, touching the laws and ordinances appointed by this King
Richard for his navy, the form thereof was this:

1. That whosoever killed any person on ship-board should be tied with
him that was slain, and thrown into the sea.

2. And if he killed him on the land, he should in like manner be tied
with the party slain, and be buried with him in the earth.

3. He that shall be convicted by lawful witness to draw out his knife
or weapon, to the intent to strike any man, or that hath stricken any
to the drawing of blood, shall lose his hand.

4. Also, be that striketh any person with his hand, without effusion
of blood, shall be plunged three times in the sea.

5. Item, whoso speaketh any opprobrious or contumelious words, in
reviling or cursing one another, for so oftentimes as he hath so
reviled shall pay so many ounces of silver.

6. Item, a thief or felon that hath stolen, being lawfully convicted,
shall have his head shorn, and boiling pitch poured upon his head,
and feathers or down strewed upon the same, whereby he may be known;
and so the first landing-place they shall come to, there to be cast
up, &c.

These things thus set in a readiness, King Richard sending his navy
by the Spanish seas, and by the straits of Gibraltar between Spain
and Africa, to meet him at Marsilia, he himself went (as is said) to
Vizelay, to the French king. Which two kings from thence went to
Lyons, where the bridge over the flood Rhodanus with press of people
brake, and many both men and women were drowned. By reason whereof
the two kings, for the cumbrances of their trains, were constrained
to dissever themselves for the time of their journey, appointing both
to meet together in Sicily; and so Philip the French king took his
way to Genoa, and King Richard to Marsiia, where he remained eight
days, appointing there his navy to meet him. From thence crossing
over to Genoa, where the French king was, he passed forward by the
coast of Italy, and entered into Tiber, not far from Rome, where
meeting with Ottomanus, the cardinal and bishop of Hostia, he did
complain greatly of the filthy simony of the pope and the pope's
court, for receiving seven hundred marks for consecrating the bishop
Cenomanensis; also a thousand and five hundred marks of William, the
bishop of Ely, for his office legantine; and likewise an infinite sum
of money of the bishop of Bourdeaux, for acquitting him when he
should be deposed for a certain crime laid to his charge by his
clergy, &c.

The seventh day of August, in the year aforesaid, King Richard
departed out of Marsilia, after he had there waited seven days for
his navy, which came not; and so hiring twenty galleys, and ten great
barks, to ship over his men, sailed by the sea-coast of Italy, and
came to Naples, and so partly by horse and waggon, partly by the sea,
passing to Falernum, he came to Calabria; where, after that he had
heard his ships were arrived at Messina, in Sicily, he made the more
speed; and so the three and twentieth of September sent to Messina,
with such a noise of trumpets and shawms, with such a rout and show,
that it was to the great wonderment and terror, both of the
Frenchmen, and all others that did hear and behold the sight.

To the said town of Messina the French king was come before the
sixteenth day of the same month of September, and had taken up the
palace of Tancredus, king of Sicily, for his lodging. To whom King
Richard after his arrival eftsoons resorted; and when the two kings
had communed together, immediately the same day the French king took
shipping and entered the seas, thinking to sail toward the land of
Jerusalem. But after he was out of the haven, the wind arising
contrary against him, returned him back again to Messina. Then King
Richard, (whose lodging was prepared in the suburbs without the
city,) after he had resorted again, and talked with the French king,
and also had sent to Tancredus, king of Sicily, for deliverance of
Joan his sister, (who had been some time queen of Sicily,) and had
obtained her to be sent unto him, the last day of September passed
over the flood of Delfar, and there getting a strong hold, called De
la Bagmare, or Le Bamre, and placing therein his sister, with a
sufficient garrison, he returned home again to Messina. The second of
October King Richard won another certain stronghold, called
Monasterium Griffonum, situated in the midst of the river of Delfar,
between Messina and Calabria; from whence the monks being expulsed,
he reposed there all his store and provision of victuals, which came
from England or other places.

The citizens of Messina, seeing that the king of England had won the
castle and island in De la Bagmare, and also the monastery of the
Griffons, and doubting lest the king would extend his power further
to invade their city, and, if he could, all the whole isle of Sicily,
began to stir against the king's army, and to shut the Englishmen out
of the gates, and keep their walls against them. The Englishmen,
seeing that, made to the gates, and by force would have broken them
open; insomuch that the king riding among them with his staff, and
breaking divers of their heads, could not assuage their fierceness;
such was the rage of the English men against the citizens of Messina.
The king, seeing the fury of the people to be such as he could not
stay them, took boat, and went to the palace of King Tancred, to talk
of the matter with the French king. In which time the matter was so
taken up by the wise handling of the ancient of the city, that both
parties laying down their armour went home in peace.

The fourth day of the said month of October came to King Richard the
archbishop of Messina, with two other archbishops, also with the
French king, and sundry other earls, barons, and bishops, for
obtaining of peace. Who, as they were together consulting, and had
almost concluded upon the peace, the citizens of Mcssina issuing out
of the town, some went up upon the mountains, some with open force
invaded the mansion or lodging of Hugh Brun, an English captain. The
noise whereof coming to the ears of the king, he, suddenly breaking
off talk with the French king and the rest, departed from them; and
coming to his men, commanded them forthwith to arm themselves; who
then with certain of his soldiers making up to the top of a mountain,
(which seemed to pass their power to climb,) there put the citizens
to flight, chasing them down the mountain, unto the very gates of the
city; whom also certain of the king's servants pursued within the
city, of whom five valiant soldiers, and twenty of the king's
servants, were slain, the French king looking on, and not once
willing to rescue them, contrary unto his oath and league before made
with the king of England. For the said French king with his men,
being there present, rode in the midst of them safely and without
harm, to and fro, and might well have eased the king's party more
than he, if it had so liked him.

This being known to the English host, how their fellows were slain,
and the Frenchmen permitted in the city, and that they were excluded,
and the gates barred against them, being also stopped from buying of
victuals and other things; they upon great indignation gathered
themselves in arms, burst open the gates, and scaled the walls, and
so winning the city, set up their flags with the English arms upon
the walls. Which when the French king did see, he was mightily
offended; requiring the king of England, that the arms of France
might also be set up and joined with his; but King Richard to that in
no case would agree. Notwithstanding, to satisfy his mind, he was
well contented to take down his arms, and commit the custody of the
city to the Hospitallers and Templars of Jeru salem, till the time
that Tancred king of Sicily and he should agree together upon
conditions.

These things being done the fifth and sixth day of October, it
followed then, upon the eighth day of the same month of October, that
peace among the kings was concluded. In which peace, first, King
Richard and Philip the French king renewed again their oath and
league before made concerning their mutual aid and society during all
the time of that peregrinntion. Secondly, peace also was concluded
between King Richard and Tancred, king of Sicily aforesaid, with this
condition, that the daughter of Tancred (in case King Richard should
die without issue) should marry Arthur, duke of Brittany, the king's
nephew, and next heir to his crown. Whereof a formal chart was drawn
and letters sent thereof to Pope Clement, being dated the ninth day
of November.

In this mean time, as these two kings of France and England were thus
wintering at Messina, Frederic, emperor, first of that name, (the
same on whose neck Pope Alexander did tread in the church of Venice,
saying the verse of the Psalm, Super aspidem et basiliscum ambulabis,
&c., whereof read before,) and his son Conradus, with a mighty army
of Almans and others, were coming up likewise toward the land of
Jerusalem to the siege of Acre; where by the way the good emperor,
through a great mischance, falling off his horse into a river called
Salef, was therein drowned. After whose decease Conradus his son,
taking the government of his army, came to the siege of Acre; in
which siege also he died. Upon whose coming such a dearth followed in
the camp, which lasted two months that a loaf of bread, which before
their coming was sold for one penny, was afterward sold for three
pounds; by reason whereof many Christian soldiers did there perish
through famine. The chiefest food which the princes there had to feed
upon was horse flesh. This famine being so miserable, some good
bishops there were in the camp, namely, Hubert, bishop of Salisbury,
with certain other good bishops, who, making a general collection
through the whole camp for the poor, made such a provision, that in
this penury of all things, yet no man was so destitute and needy, but
somewhat he had for his relief; till within a few days after, by the
merciful providence of God, (who is the feeder of all creatures,)
ships came unto them with abundance of corn, wine, and oil.

(Illustration: Acre )

The siege of this town of Acre endured a long season, which as it was
mightily oppugned by the Christians, so it was strongly defended by
the Saracens, specially by the help of wild fire, which the Latins
call Græcum ignem, so that great slaughter there was on both sides.
During the time of which siege, many noble personages and also
bishops died, among whom was Conradus the emperor's son, Radulph,
earl of Fougiers, the earl of Pericio, Ro bert, earl of Leicester,
Baldwin, archbishop of Can terbury, with four archbishops, and divers
other bishops, abbots, earls, and also barons, to the number of four
and thirty, and not so few. All this while King Richard and King
Philip of France still kept at Messina in Sicily, from the month of
September till April, for lack (I suppose) of wind or weather, or
else for necessity of repairing their ships. In which mean time King
Richard, hearing of Joachim, abbot of Curacio, a learned man in
Calabria, (who was then thought to have the spirit of prophecy, and
told many things of a people that should come,) sent for him, with
whom he and his bishops had much conference about the coming and time
of antichrist. This Joachim belike in his book and revelations
uttered some things against the see and pride of Rome; for the which
he was less favoured of the popes, and judged an enemy to their see,
and so by Pope Innocent the Third was condemned with his books for a
heretic, in his idolatrous general Council of Lateran, A.D. 1215, as
ye may read in Antoninus.

After this, Henricus, king of Almans, son of Frederic the emperor,
hearing of the decease of his father, standing now to be emperor,
first restoreth to Henry, duke of Saxony, and to others, whatsoever
his father before had taken from them. That done, he sent unto
Clement and his cardinals, promising in all things to confirm the
laws and dignities of the Church of Rome, if they would grant him
their assent to be emperor. Whereupon Pope Clement, by advice of the
Romans, assigned him the term of Easter in the next year ensuing for
his coronation. But before the Easter came, Pope Clement died, after
he had sat three years, and about four months; after whom succeeded
Celestinus the Third; of whom more hereafter, God willing.

The time thus passing over, in the month of February, the next year
following, which was of the Lord 1191, King Richard sent over his
galleys to Naples, there to meet his mother Eleanor, and Berengaria,
the daughter of Sanctius, king of Navarre, whom he was purposed to
marry. Who by that time were come to Brundusium, under the conduct of
Philip, earl of Flanders; and so proceeding unto Naples, there found
the king's ships, wherein they sailed to Messina. In this mean space
King Richard showed himself exceeding bounteous and liberal unto all
men. To the French king first he gave divers ships; upon others
likewise he bestowed rich rewards; and of his goods and treasure he
distributed largely unto his soldiers and servants about him. Of whom
it was reported that he distributed more in one month than ever any
of his predecessors did in a whole year; by reason whereof he
purchased great love and favour, which not only redounded to the
advancement of his fame, but also to his singular use and profit, as
the sequel afterward proved.

To proceed then in the progress of King Richard, it followeth, in the
first day of the month of March, he, leaving the city of Messina,
where the French king was, went to Cathniensium, a city where
Tancredus, king of Sicily, then lay, where he was honourably
received, and there remained with King Tancredus three days and three
nights. On the fourth day, when he should depart, the foresaid
Tancredus offered him many rich presents in gold and silver, and
precious silks; whereof King Richard would receive nothing, but one
little ring, for a token of his good will. For the which King Richard
again gave him a rich sword. At length, when King Richard should take
his leave, King Tancredus would not so let him part, but needs would
give him four great ships, and fifteen galleys; and furthermore, he
himself would needs accompany him the space of two days' journey to a
place called Tavernium.

Then the next morning, when they should take their leave, Tancredus
declared unto him the message which the French king a little before
had sent unto him by the duke of Burgundy, the contents whereof was
this: That the king of England was a false traitor, and would never
keep the peace that was between them. And if the said Tancredus would
war against him, or secretly by night would invade him, he with all
his power would assist him, and join with him, to the destruction of
him and all his army, &c. To whom Richard the king protested again,
that he was no traitor, nor ever was; and as touching the peace begun
between them, the same should never be broken through him; neither
could be believe that the French king, being his good lord and his
sworn compartner in that voyage. would utter any such words by him.
Which when Tancredus heard, he bringeth forth the letters of the
French king sent to him by the duke of Burgundy; affirming moreover,
that if the duke of Burgundy would deny the bringing of the said
letters, he was ready to try with him by any of his dukes. King
Richard receiving the letters, and musing not a little upon the same,
returneth again to Messina. The same day that King Richard departed,
the French king cometh to Tavernium to speak with Tancredus, and
there abode with him that night, and on the morrow returned to
Messina again.

From that same time King Richard, moved in stomach against King
Philip, never showed any gentle countenance of peace and amity, as he
before was wont. Whereat the French king greatly marvelling, and
inquiring earnestly what should be the cause thereof. word was sent
him again by Philip, earl of Flanders, what words he had sent to the
king of Sicily; and for the testimony thereof the letters were showed
which he wrote by the duke of Burgundy to the king of Sicily. Which
when the French king understood, first he held his peace, as guilty
in his conscience, not knowing well what to answer. At length,
turning his tale to another matter, he began to quarrel with King
Richard, pretending as though he sought causes to break with him, and
to malign him; and therefore he forged these lies upon him, and all
because he by that means would avoid marrying with Alice his sister,
according as he had promised; adding, moreover, that if he would so
do, and would not marry the said Alice his sister, according to his
oath, but would marry another, he would be an enemy to him and his
while he lived.

To this King Richard said again, that he could by no means marry that
woman; forsomuch as his father had carnal copulation with her, and
also had by her a son; for proof whereof he had there presently to
bring forth divers and sundry witnesses to the king's face, to
testify with him. In conclusion, through counsel and persuasion of
divers about the French king, agreement at last was made; so that
King Philip did acquit King Richard from his bond of marrying his
sister; and King Richard again should be bound to pay to him every
year; for the space of five years, two thousand marks, with certain
other conditions besides, not greatly material in this place to be
deciphered. Thus peace being between them concluded, the eight and
twentieth day of the said month of March, the French king, launching
out of the haven of Messina, on the two and twentieth day after, in
Easter-week, came with his army to the siege of Acre.

After the departure of the French king from Messina. (King Richard
with his army yet remaining behind,) arrived Queen Eleanor the king's
mother, bringing with her Berengaria, the king of Navarre's daughter,
to be espoused to King Richard. Which done, Eleanor, leaving
Berengaria behind her, departed, taking her journey towards Rome, to
entreat the pope for Gaufridus, her other son above mentioned, to be
consecrated in the archbishopric of York, being before elected by the
procurement of King Richard his brother, as ye heard. In which mean
time, as Queen Eleanor was travelling toward Rome, Pope Clement above
mentioned died, about the sixth day of April, in whose room succeeded
Pope Celestinus the Third. Who the next day after his consecration
came from Lateran to St. Peter's church, where in the way meeteth him
Henricus the emperor, and Constantia his wife, with a great rout of
armed soldiers; but the Romans making fast their gates would not
suffer them to enter their city. Then Pope Celestine, standing upon
the stairs before the church door of St. Peter, received an oath of
the said Henricus, king of the Almans, (his army waiting without,)
that he should defend the church of God, and all the liberties
thereof, and maintain justice; also that he should restore again the
patrimony of St. Peter full and whole, whatsoever hath been
diminished thereof; and finally, that he should surrender to the
Church of Rome again the city of Tusculanum, &c. Upon these
conditions and grants, then the pope took him to the church, and
there anointed him for emperor, and his wife for empress; who, there
sitting in his chair pontifical, held the crown of gold between his
feet; and so the emperor, bowing down his head to the pope's feet,
received the crown, and in like manner the empress also. The crown
thus being set upon the emperor' s head, the pope eftsoons with his
foot struck it off again from his head unto the ground, declaring
thereby that he had power to depose him again, in case he so
deserved. Then the cardinals, taking up the crown, set it upon his
head again.

Not long after the departure of King Philip from Messina, which was
in the month of March, King Richard, in April following, about the
twentieth day of the said month, sailing from the haven of Messina
with a hundred and fifty great ships, and three and fifty great
galleys, well manned and appointed, took journey towards Acre; who
being upon the seas on Good Friday, about the ninth hour rose a
mighty south wind with a tempest, which dissevered and scattered all
his navy, some to one place, and some to another. The king with a few
ships was driven to the isle of Creta, and there before the haven of
Rhodes cast anchor. The ship that carried the king's sister, queen of
Sicily, and Berengaria, the king of Navarre's daughter, with two
other ships, were driven to the isle of Cyprus. The king making great
moan for the ship of his sister, and Berengaria, his wife that should
be, not knowing where they were become, after the tempest was
overblown, sent forth his galleys diligently to search the rest of
his navy dispersed, but especially for the ship wherein his sister
was, and the maiden whom he should marry; who at length were found
safe and merry at the port of Limisso in the isle of Cyprus.
Notwithstanding, the two other ships which were in their company
before in the same haven were drowned, with divers of the king's
servants and men of worship, amongst whom was M. Roger, called Malus
Catulus, the king's vicechancellor, who was found having the king's
seal hanging about his neck. The king of Cyprus was then Isakius,
(called also the emperor of the Griffons,) who took and imprisoned
all Englishmen which by shipwreck were cast upon his land; also
inveigled into his hands the goods and prizes of them which were
found drowned about his coasts, neither would suffer the ship wherein
the two ladies were to enter within the port.

The tidings of this being brought to King Richard, he in his great
wrath, gathering his galleys and ships together, boardeth the land of
Cyprus, where he, first, in gentle wise signifieth to King Isakius,
how he with his Englishmen, coming as strangers to the supportation
of the Holy Land, were by distress of weather driven upon his hounds;
and therefore with all humble petition besought him in God's behalf,
and for reverence of the holy cross, to let go such prisoners of his
which he had in captivity, and to restore again the goods of them
which were drowned, which he detained in his hands, to be employed
for the behoof of their souls, &c. And this the king once, twice, and
thrice desired of the emperor. But he, proudly answering again, sent
the king word, that he would neither let the captives go, nor render
the goods of them which were drowned, &c.

When King Richard heard this, how little the emperor Isakius made of
his so humble and honest petition, and how nothing there could be
gotten without violent force; eftsoons he giveth commandment through
all his host to put themselves in armour, and to follow him, to
revenge such injuries received of that proud and cruel king of
Cyprus; willing them to put their trust in God, and not to misdoubt
but the Lord would stand with them, and give them the full victory.
The emperor in the mean time with his people stood warding the sea
coasts, where the Englishmen should arrive, with swords, bills, and
lances, and such other weapons as they had, setting boards, stools,
and chests before them instead of a wall. Howbeit but few of them
were harnessed, and for the most part all unexpert and unskilful in
the feats of war. Then King Richard, with his soldiers, issuing out
of their ships, first set his bowmen before, who with their shot made
a way for others to follow. The Englishmen, thus winning the land
upon them, so fiercely pressed upon the Griffons, that after long
fighting and many blows, at last the emperor was put [to] flight;
whom King Richard valiantly pursued, and slew many, and divers he
took alive, and had gone near also to have had the emperor, had not
the night come on and parted the battle. And thus King Richard with
much spoil and great victory returning to the port town of Limisso,
which the townsmen had left for fear, found there great abundance of
corn, wine, oil, and victuals.

The same day after the victory Joan, the king's sister, and
Berengaria, the maiden, entered the port and town of Limisso, with
fifty great ships, and fourteen galliots: so that all the whole navy,
there meeting together, were two hundred and fifty-four tall ships,
and above threescore galliots. Then Isakius the emperor, seeing no
way for himself to escape by the sea, the same night pitched his
tents five miles off from the English army, swearing that the third
day after he would surely give battle to King Richard. But he
preventing him before, suddenly, the same morning before the day of
battle should be, setteth upon the tents of the Griffons early, they
being unawares and asleep, and made of them a great slaughter;
insomuch that the emperor was fain naked to run away, leaving his
tents and pavilions to the Englishmen, full of horses and rich
treasure, also with the imperial standard, the lower part whereof
with a costly streamer was covered and wrought all with gold. King
Richard then returning with victory and triumph to his sister and
Berengaria, shortly after, in the month of May next following, and
the twelfth day of the same month, married the said Berengaria,
daughter of Rancon, king of Navarre, in the isle of Cyprus, at 
Limisso.

The king of Cyprus, seeing himself overmatched, was driven at length
to yield himself with conditions, to give King Richard twenty
thousand marks in gold, for amends of such spoils as he had gotten of
them that were drowned; also to restore all his captives again to the
king; and furthermore in his own person to attend upon the king to
the land of Jerusalem, in God's service and his, with four hundred
horsemen, and five hundred footmen; in pledge whereof he would give
to his hands his castles, and his only daughter, and would hold his
kingdom of him. This done, and the emperor swearing fidelity to King
Richard before Guido, king of Jerusalem, and the prince of Antioch,
(who were come thither to King Richard a little before,) peace was
taken, and Isakius was committed to the ward of certain keepers.
Notwithstanding, shortly after, he, breaking from his keepers, was
again at defiance with the king. Whereupon King Richard, besetting
the island of Cyprus round about with ships and galleys, did in such
sort prevail, that the subjects of the land were constrained to yield
themselves to the king, and at length the daughter also of the
emperor, and at last the emperor himself, whom King Richard caused to
be kept in fetters of silver and gold, and to be sent to the city of
Tripolis.

(Illustration: Battle between Crusaders and Saracens )

These things thus done, and all set in order touching the possession
of the isle of Cyprus, the keeping whereof he committed unto Radulph,
son of Godfrey, lord chamberlain, being then the first day of June;
upon the fifth of the said month, King Richard departed from the isle
of Cyprus with ships and galleys towards the siege of Acre, and on
the next morrow came unto Tyrus; where, by procurement of the French
king, he was constrained by the citizens to enter. The next day
after, which was the sixth day of June, crossing the seas, he met
with a great bark fraught with soldiers and men of war, to the number
of one thousand and five hundred; which, pretending to be Frenchmen,
and setting forth their flag with the French arms, were indeed
Saracens, secretly sent with wild-fire and certain barrels of unknown
serpents, to the defence of the town of Acre. Which King Richard at
length perceiving, eftsoons set upon them, and so vanquished them; of
whom the most were drowned, and some taken alive. Which being once
known in the city of Acre, as it was a great discomfort unto them, so
it was a great help unto the Christians for winning the city. The
next day after, which was the seventh of June, King Richard came to
Acre. which at that time had been long besieged of the Christians;
after whose coming it was not long: but the pagans within the city,
seeing their walls to be undermined, and towers overthrown, were
driven by composition, to escape with life and limb, to surrender the
city unto the two kings. Another great help to the Christians in
winning the city was this: In the said city of Acre there was a
secret Christian among the Saracens, who in time of the siege there
used at sundry times to cast over the walls, into the camp of the
Christians, certain bills written in Hebrew, Greek. and Latin,
wherein he disclosed unto the Christians from time to time the doings
and counsels of the enemies, advertising them how and by what way
they should work, and what to beware: and always his letters began
thus, In nomine Patris, et Filii, st Spiritus Sancti, Amen. By reason
whereof the Christians were much advantaged in their proceedings. But
this was a great heaviness unto them, that neither be would utter his
name. nor when the city was got could they ever understand who he
was.

To make of a long sie:e a short narration upon the twelfth day of
July in the year aforesaid, the princes and captains of the pagans
upon agreement resorted unto the tent of the templars, to commune
with the two kings touching peace and giving up of their city; the
form of which peace was thus: That the kings should have the city of
Acre freely and fully delivered unto them, with all which was within;
and five hundred captives of the Christians should be restored unto
them, which were in Acre; also the holy cross should be to them
rendered, and a thousand Christian captives, with two hundred
horsemen, whosoever they themselves would choose out of all them
which were in the power of Saladin; over and besides, they should
give to the kings two hundred thousand Bisants, so that they
themselves would remain as pledges in the king's hands for the
performance hereof; that if in forty days these foresaid covenants
were not accomplished, they would abide the kings' mercy touching
life and limb. These covenants being agreed upon, the kings sent
their soldiers and servants into the city, to take one hundred of the
richest and best of the city, to close them up in towers under strong
keeping, and the residue they committed to be kept in houses and
streets, ministering unto them according to their necessities; to
whom notwithstanding this they permitted, that so many of them as
would be baptized, and receive the faith of Christ, should be free to
go whither they would. Whereupon many there were of the pagans who
for fear of death pretended to be baptized; but afterward, so soon as
they could, they revolted again to Saladin. For the which it was
afterwards commanded by the kings, that none of them should be
baptized against their wills.

The thirteenth day of the said month of July King Philip of France,
and King Richard, after they had obtained the possession of Acre,
divided between them all things therein contained, as well the people
as gold and sib er, with all other furniture whatsoever was remaining
in the city; who, in dividing the spoil, were so good carvers unto
themselves, that many knights and barons, with other soldiers, who
had there sustained the whole travail two years together about the
siege, seeing the kings to take all unto themselves, and their part
to be but little, retracted themselves without the uttermost trench,
and there, after consultation had together, sent word to the kings,
that they would leave and forsake them, unless they were made
partakers also of the gains for the which they had so long travailed.
To whom answer was sent again by the kings, that their wills should
be satisfied. Howbeit, because of long deferring of their promise,
many, constrained by poverty, departed from them.

The twentieth day of July King Richard, speaking with the French
king, desired him that they two with their armies would bind
themselves by oath to remain there still in the land of Jerusalem the
space of three years, for the winning and recovering again of those
countries. But he would swear (he said) no such oath; and so the next
day after King Richard with his wife and sister entereth into the
city of Acre, and placed there himself in the king's palace, the
French king remaining in the houses of the templars, where he
continued till the end of the month. So about the beginning of the
month of August, Philip, the French king, after that he and King
Richard had made agreement between Guido and Conradus, the marquis,
about the kingdom of Jerusalem, went from Acre to Tyrus;
notwithstanding King Richard and all the princes of the Christian
army with great entreaty desired him to tarry, showing what a shame
it were for him to come so far, and now to leave undone that for
which he came; and on the third of August from Tyrus he departed,
leaving his half part of the city of Acre in the hands of the
foresaid Conradus, marquis. After whose departure the pagans refused
to keep their covenants made; who neither would restore the holy
cross, nor the money, nor their captives: sending word to King
Richard, that if he beheaded the pledges left with him at Acre, they
would chop off the heads of such captives of the Christians which
were in their hands. Shortly after this, Saladin, sending great gifts
to King Richard, requested the times limited for beheading of the
captives to be prorogued; but the king refused to take his gifts, and
to grant his request. Whereupon Saladin caused all the Christian
captives within his possession forthwith to be beheaded, which was
the eighteenth day of August. Which albeit King Richard understood,
yet would not he prevent the time afore limited for the execution of
his prisoners, being the twentieth of August. Upon which day he
caused the prisoners of the Saracens, openly in the sight of
Saladin's army, to lose their heads; the number of whom came to two
thousand five hundred, save only that certain of the principal of
them he reserved for purposes and considerations, especially to make
exchange for the holy cross, and certain others of the Christian
captives.

After this, King Richard purposed to besiege the city of Joppa:
where, by the way between Acre and Joppa, near to a town called
Ashur, Saladin with a great multitude of his Saracens came fiercely
against the king's rearward: but through God's merciful grace, in the
same battle the king's warriors acquitted them so well, that Saladin
was put to flight, (whom the Christians pursued the space of three
miles.) and lost the same day many of his nobles and captains, in
such sort (as it was thought) that Saladin was not put to such
confusion forty years before; and but one Christian captain, called
James Avernus, in that conflict was overthrown. From thence King
Richard, proceeding further, went to Joppa, and then to Ascalon,
where he found first the city of Joppa forsaken of the Saracens, who
durst not abide the king's coming. Ascalon Saladin threw down to the
ground, and likewise forsook the whole land of Syria, through all
which land the king had free passage without resistance, neither
durst the Saracen prince encounter after that with King Richard. Of
all which his achievances the said King Richard sent his letters of
certificate, as well into England, as also to the abbot of Clara
Valle in France; well hoping that he, God willing, should be able to
make his repair again to them by Easter next.

Concerning Richard's worthy acts done abroad in getting of Cyprus,
Acre, and Ptolemaida, in pacifying Joppa, partly is spoken of before.
Many other valiant and famous acts were by him and the French king
achieved, and more should have been, had not those two kings, falling
into discord, dissevered themselves; by reason whereof Philip the
French king returned home again within short space. Who, being
returned again, eftsoons invaded the country of Normandy, exciting
also John, the brother of King Richard, to take on him the kingdom of
England in his brother's absence. Who then made league (upon the
same) with the French king, and did homage unto him, which was about
the fourth year of King Richard. Who then being in Syria, and hearing
thereof, made peace with the Turks for three years. And not long
after King Richard. the next spring following, returned also. Who, in
his return, driven by distress of weather about the parts of Histria,
in a town called Synaca, was there taken by Leopold, duke of the same
country, and so sold to the emperor for sixty thousand marks.

King Richard, thus being traitorously taken and sold, was there kept
in custody a year and three months. In some stories it is affirmed,
that King Richard, returning out of Asia, came to Italy with
prosperous wind; where he desired of the pope to be absolved from an
oath made against his will, and could not obtain it. And so setting
out from thence towards England, passing by the country of Conrad,
the marquis, whose death (he being slain a little before) was falsely
imputed by the French king to the king of England, was there
traitorously taken, as is beforesaid, by Leopold, dnke of Austria.
Albeit in another story I find the matter more credibly set forth,
which saith thus: That King Richard slew the brother of this Leopold,
playing with him at chess in the French king's court. And Leopold,
taking his advantage, was the more cruel against him, and delivered
him, as is said, to the emperor; in whose custody be was detained
during the time above mentioned, a year and three months. During the
which time the king's imprisonment, the French king in the mean
season stirred war in Normandy. And Earl John the king's brother made
stir and invaded England; but the barons and bishops of the land
mightily withstood him, and besieged him in the castle of Windsor;
where they took from him all the castles and munitions which before
he had got. Thus the earl, seeing no hope to prevail in England, and
suspecting the deliverance of the king his brother, made into France,
and kept with the French king: at length it was so agreed and
concluded with the emperor, that King Richard should be released for
a hundred thousand pounds; of the which money, part should remain to
the duke of Austria, the rest should be the emperor's. The sum of
which money was here gathered and made in England of chalices,
crosses, shrines, candlesticks, and other church plate, also with
public contribution of friaries, abbeys. and other subjects of the
realm. Whereof part was presently paid, and for the residue remaining
hostages and pledges were taken, which was about the fifth year of
his reign. And then it was obtained of the pope, that priests might
celebrate with chalices of latten and tin: and so it was granted and
continued long after. which mine author, in his chronicle entitled
Eulogium, doth testify himself to have seen. At what time this
foresaid money was paid, and the hostages given for the ransom of
this king. I have an old story that saith, how the foresaid duke of
Austria shortly after was plagued by God with five sundry plagues:
first, with burning of his chief towns; secondly, with the drowning
of ten thousand of his men in a great flood, happening no man could
tell how: thirdly, by turning all the ears of his corn-field into
worms; fourthly, by taking away almost all the nobles of his land by
death; fifthly, by breaking his own leg falling from his horse, which
leg he was compelled to cut off with his own hands, and after died
upon the same; who then is said at his death to forgive King Richard
fifty thousand marks, and sent home the hostages that were with him.
The book entitled Eulogium, before mentioned, declareth thus, that
the said Leopold, duke of Austria, fell in displeasure with the
bishop of Rome, and died excommunicate the next year after, being the
year 1196.

Thus the said King Richard being ransomed, as hath been declared,
from the covetous captivity of the emperor, was restored again, and
made his repair into England. At whose return, Earl John his brother,
resorting unto him with humble submission, desired to be pardoned of
his transgressions. To whom King Richard answering again, Would God
(saith he) this your trespass, as it dieth with me in oblivion, so it
may remain with you in remembrance, and so gently forgave him. And
after he had again recovered his holds and castles, he caused himself
to be crowned again. Which done, he made his power against the French
king, and drave him out of Normandy. After that, he turned his voyage
against the Welshmen, and subdued them.

The next year following, which was the year 1197, Philip, the French
king, brake the truce made between him and King Richard; whereupon
the king was compelled to sail over again to Normandy to withstand
the malice of his enemy. About which time my story recordeth of one
called of some Fulco; some say he was the archbishop of Rouen, called
Gualter. This Fulco being then in England, and coming to the king's
presence, said unto him with great courage and boldness, Thou hast, O
mighty king, three daughters very vicious and of evil disposition;
take good heed of them, and betimes provide for them good husbands;
lest, by untimely bestowing of the same, thou shalt not only incur
great hurt and damage, but also utter ruin and destruction to
thyself. To whom the king in a rage said, Thou lying and mocking
hypocrite, thou knowest not where thou art, or what thou sayest; I
think thou art mad, or not well in thy wits; for I have never a
daughter, as all the world knoweth, and therefore, thou open liar,
get thee out of our presence. To whom Fulco answered, No, and like
your Grace, I lie not, but say truth; for you have three daughters
which continually frequent your court, and wholly possess your
person, and such three whores and naughty packs as never the like
hath been heard of; I mean, mischievous Pride, greedy Covetousness,
and filthy Luxury; and therefore again I say, O king, beware of them,
and out of hand provide marriages for them, lest in not so doing thou
utterly undo both thyself and all the whole realm.

The which his words the king took in good part, with correction of
himself, and confession of the same. Whereupon incontinently he
called his lords and barons before him, unto whom he declared the
communing and monition of Fulco, who had willed him to beware of his
three daughters, Pride, Avarice, and Luxury, with counsel out of hand
to marry them, lest further discommodity should ensue both to him and
to the whole realm; whose good counsel (my lords) I intend to follow,
not doubting of all your consents thereunto. Wherefore here, before
you all, I give my daughter swelling Pride to wife unto the proud
templars: my greedy daughter Avarice to the covetous order of the
Cistercian monks; and last of all, my filthy daughter Luxury to the
riotous prelates of the church, whom I think to be very meet men for
her; and so severally well agreeing to all their natures, that the
like matches in this our realm are not to be found for them. And thus
much concerning Fulco.

(Illustration: The Shooting of King Richard )

Not long after this, it befell that a certain noble personage (lord
of Lemonice in Little Britain, Widomarus by name) found a great
substance of treasure both of gold and silver bid in the ground,
whereof a great part he sent to King Richard, as chief lord and
prince over the whole country. Which the king refused, saving he
would either have all or none, for that he was the principal
chieftain over the land. But the finder would not condescend to that.
Wherefore the king laid siege to a castle of his called Galuz,
thinking the treasure to lie there. But the keepers and warders of
the castle, seeing themselves not sufficient to withstand the king,
offerred to him the castle, desiring to depart with life and armour.
To this the king would in no wise grant, but bid them to re-enter the
castle again, and to defend it in all the forcible wise they could.
It so befell, that as the king with the duke of Brabant went about
the castle, viewing the places thereof, a soldier within, named
Bertrand Cordoun, struck the king with an arrow in the arm, whereupon
the iron remaining and festering in the wound, the king within nine
days after died; who, because he was not content with the half of the
treasure that another man found, lost all his own treasure that he
had. The king, being thus wounded, caused the man that struck him to
he brought unto him, and asked the cause of him why he so wounded
him. Who answered him again, as the story saith, that he thought to
kill rather than to be killed; and what punish mentsoever he should
sustain he was content, so that be might kill him which had before
killed his father and brethren. The king, hearing his words, freely
forgave him, and caused a hundred shillings to be given him. Albeit,
as the story addeth, after the death of the king, the duke of
Brabant, after great torments, caused him to be hanged. The story of
Gisburne saith that the killer of King Richard coming to the French
king, thinking to have a great reward, was commanded to be drawn
asunder with horses, and his quarters to be hanged up.

Another story affirmeth, and Gisburne partly doth testify the same,
that, a little before the death of King Richard, three abbots of the
order Cistercian came to him, to whom he was confessed. And when he
saw them somewhat stay at his absolution, he had these words: that he
did willingly commit his body to the earth to be eaten of worms, and
his soul to the fire of purgatory, there to be tormented till the
judgment, in the hope of God's mercy.

About the reign of this king, the said Jornalensis maketh mention of
Roger, archbishop of York, which put out of his church the monks, and
placed for them secular priests, saying that he would rather wish
ecclesiastical benefices to be given to wanton priests than to
abominable monks; and that Thurstinus did sin never worse in all his
life than in building that house for monks. Another story I have,
which saith that this was the bishop, not of York, but of Coventry.

The king not long after departed without issue, and John his brother
reigned after him; in whom, although some vices may worthily be
reprehended, especially for his incontinent and too much licentious
life, yet was he far from that deserving, for the which he hath been
so ill reported of divers writers; who, being led more with affection
of popery, than with true judgment and due consideration, depraved
his doings more than the sincere truth of the history will bear them.
Concerning which history, after so many writers, we thought also to
be stow a little labour, although in this matter we cannot be so long
as I would, and as the matter requireth.



48. KING JOHN
AFTER the death of King Richard, called Cœur de Lion, reigned his
brother, John, earl of Morton. Afterward the archbishop put the crown
on his head, and sware him to defend the church, and to maintain the
same in her good laws, and to destroy the ill. And except he thought
in his mind to do this, the archbishop charged him not to presume to
take on him this dignity. And on St. John Baptist's day next
following, King John sailed into Normandy and came to Rouen, where he
was royally received, and truce concluded between him and the French
king for a time. And thither came to him the earl of Flanders, and
all other lords of France that were of King Richards band and
friendship, and were sworn unto him.

Not long after this, Philip the French king made Arthur knight, and
took his homage for Normandy, Britain, and all other his possessions
beyond the sea, and promised him help against King John. After this,
King John and the French king talked together with their lords about
one hour's space, and the French king asked so much land for himself
and Knight Arthur, that King John would grant him none, and so he
departed in wrath.

The same year a legate came into France, and commanded the king, in
pain of interdiction, to deliver one Peter out of prison, that was
elect to a bishopric; and thereupon he was delivered.

After that the legate came into England, and commanded King John,
under pain of interdiction, to deliver the archbishop whom he had
kept as prisoner two years; which the king denied to do, till he had
paid him six thousand marks; because he took him in harness in a
field against him, and sware him upon his deliverance, that he should
never wear harness against any Christian man.

At this time divorce was made between King John and his wife,
daughter of the earl of Gloucester, because they were in the third
degree of kindred. And afterwards, by the counsel of the French king,
King John wedded Isabel, daughter of the earl of Angouleme; and then
Arthur of Britanny did homage to King John for Britanny and others.

At this time fell strife between King John and Geoffrey, the
archbishop of York, for divers causes: first, because he would not
suffer and permit the sheriff of York in such affairs as he had to do
for the king within his diocess; secondly, because he did also
excommunicate the said sheriff; thirdly, because he would not sail
with him into Normandy, to make the marriage between Lewis, the
French king's son, and his niece, &c.

After this, A.D. 1202, Philip the French king, in a communication
between King John and him, required that the said King John should
part with all his lands in Normandy and Pictavia which he had beyond
the sea unto Arthur his nephew, and that incontinent, or else he
would war against him; and so he did. For when King John denied that
request, the next day following the French king, with the said
Arthur, set upon certain of his towns and castles in Normandy, and
put him to much disquietness. But he (the Lord so providing, who is
the giver of all victory) had such repulse at the Englishmen's hands,
that they, pursuing the French men in their flight did so follow them
to their hold, and so pressed upon them, that not only they took the
said Arthur prisoner with many other of the Frenchmen, but also gave
such an overthrow to the rest, that none was left to bear tidings
home. This Arthur was nephew to King John, and son to Geoffrey, which
was the elder son to John. For King Henry the Second (to make the
matter more evident) had eight children: one William, which died in
his childhood; the second, Henry, which died also, his father being
yet alive; the third, Geoffrey, earl of Britanny, which likewise
deceased in his fathers days, leaving behind him two children, Arthur
and Brecea; the fourth, Richard Cœur de Lion, king; the fifth, John,
now reigning; and three other daughters besides. The same Arthur,
being thus taken in war, was brought before the king at the castle of
Falesie in Normandy; who, on being exhorted with many gentle words to
leave the French king, and to incline to his uncle, answered again
stoutly and with great indignation; requiring the kingdom of England,
with all the other dominions thereto belonging, to he restored to
him, as to the lawful heir of the crown. By reason whereof he
(provoking the kings displeasure against him) was sent to the tower
of Rouen, where at length, whether by leaping into the ditch,
thinking to make his escape, or whether by some other privy hand, or
by what chance else, it is not yet agreed upon in stories, he
finished his life. By occasion whereof the foresaid King John was had
after in great suspicion; whether justly or unjustly, the Lord 
knoweth.
(Illustration: Prince Arthur's body taken from the river )

The year following, historiographers write, that King John, for lack
of rescue, lost all his holds and possessions in Normandy, through
the force of the French king.

After these losses, came other troubles upon him, with other as great
or more great enemies. (that is, with the pope and his popelings, by
occasion of choosing of the archbishop of Canterbury, as in this
history foilowing by Christ's grace is to be declared.

The year of our Lord 1203, about the month of July, Hubert, the
archbishop of Canterbury, deceased: whose decease, after it was in
Canterbury to the monks known, and afore his body was yet committed
to the earth, the younger sort of the monks there gathered themselves
together at midnight, and elected their superior Reginald, and
without the king's licence, or yet knowledge, privily placed him in
the metropolical seat, singing Te Deum at mid night. And because the
king should not make their election void, they charged him by virtue
of his oath to keep all secret by the way, and to show nothing what
was done before he came to the pope; but he, contrary to his oath, so
soon as he came into Flanders, opened abroad all the matter, and
uttered their counsel: whereupon the monks, being not a little
grieved with him, sent him privily unto the court of Rome out of
hand. The next day the elder monks sent to the king, desiring him of
his gracious licence canonically to choose their archbishop The king
most gently and favourably granted their petition, requiring them
instantly, and desiring that for his sake they would show favour to
John Gray, then bishop of Norwich, as they did indeed, erecting him
into that see of their high primacy. Moreover, because the authority
of kings and princes was then but small in their own dominion,
without the pope's consent and confirmation to the same, he sent also
to Rome of his own charges to have the foresaid election ratified by
the pope. The suffragans of Canterbury then (being not a little
offended at these two elections) sent speedily to Rome to have them
both stopped, for that they had not been of counsel with them. And
hereupon at the last grew a most prodigious tumult.

In this year the clergy grew so unruly, that they neglected their
charge, and thereby incensed the king's displeasure so sore against
them, that he took order about the goods of such as in that case were
faulty, as shall appear more manifestly by that which followeth.

"The king to all clerks and lay-people within the bishopric of
Lincoln, greeting. Know ye that, from Monday next before the feast of
Easter, we have committed to William of Cornhill. archdeacon of
Huntingdon, and to Joseline of Canvill, all the lands and goods of
the abbots, and priors, and of all the reIigious persons, and also of
all clerks, with in the bishopric of Lincoln, which will not from
that time celebrate Divine service. And we command you, that from
thence you assist them as our bailiffs, and believe them in those
things which they shall tell you privately on our behalf. Witness
ourself at Clarendon the eighteenth day of March, in the ninth year
of our reign."

The like was written to all within the bishopric of Ely. So that
hereby we see the dissoluteness and wilfulness of those popish
churchmen, whom conscience of discharging their duty did so little
move, as that they thought upon nothing less: seeing the king was
driven to use such austerity and sharpness against them. But to
proceed in this trouble some election; you shall understand, that the
next year after the suffragans of the province of Canterbury on the
one side, and the monks of Canterbury on the other side, came afore
the pope with their brawling matter. First the monks, presenting
Reginald their superior, desired that their election might be
confirmed. The suffragans likewise complained that the monks would
presume to choose the archbishop without their consent, and therefore
desired by divers reasons the first election to be of none effect.
The pope, deciding the matter between both, pronounced with the
monks; charging the suffragans and bishops to meddle no more with
that election, but to let the monks alone. The monks of Canterbury,
now having the whole election in their own hands, fell also at square
among themselves, the younger sort with the elder. The younger sort,
which had chosen Reginald their superior, would that election to
stand. The elder sort of the monks replied again, saying, that the
first election was done by stealth, and by night, and by the younger
part; also without the counsel of other monks. Over and besides, it
was done without the king's licence or appointment, and without the
due solemnity thereunto belonging.

And as concerning our election, (said they,) it was done in the clear
light of the day, by which it had authority in presence of onr liege
lord the king, and his council being willing to the same.

This allegation thus propounded, the suffragans' proctor, or man of
law, stood forth, and proved the former election to be good, and this
latter to be void and of no value, after this sort. Whether the first
election (saith he) were just or unjust, ye ought first by the law to
have condemned it afore ye should have presumed to the second; but
this ye did not; therefore is this your later doing no election at
all, and the first therefore is rather to be ratified than yours.
When they had thus multiplied talk on both sides, with many frivolous
allegations, a long time, and could not agree upon one person, Pope
Innocent condemned both their elections, commanding them to choose
Stephen Langton, then cardinal of St. Chrysogon, for their
archbishop. The monks then answered, that they durst not so do
without consent of their king, and for that it was prejudicial to
their ancient liberties. The pope by and by, (saith the text,) as one
in a fury, taking the words out of their mouths, said thus unto them: 
We will you to know, that we have full power and authority over the
church of Canterbury; neither are we wont to tarry the consent of
princes; therefore we command you, in pain of our great curse, that
ye choose him only whom we have appointed.

The monks at these words abashed and terrified, though they much
murmured in their hearts, yet consented they all in one, and
thereupona sang Te Deum. Only Doctor Helias Brantfield withdrew
himself from that election; whom the king had sent for the admission
of the bishop of Norwich.

Thus was Stephen Langton, in the high church of Viterby, by the
pope's hand, made archbishop of Canterbury.

This election thus past with the pope's grace and favour, the said
Stephen had in England, amongst others that solicited his cause to
the king, a brother named. Master Simon Langton, who in tract of time
also became archbishop of York, as appeareth in the course of this
story, in the reign of Henry the Third, A.D. 1228. In this behalf the
king seemed tractable, so he might have his sovereignty entire.
Against the which, because the said Stephen had vowed to oppose
himself, and the king misliked such demeanour, he sent abroad his
letters certificatory about the realm, therein giving intimation to
all people of proud Stephen Langton's contumacy; the form of the said
letters followeth.

"The king to all men, &c. Know ye that Master Simon Langton came to
us at Winchester, on the Wednesday next before Mid-lent, and in
presence of our bishops besought us that we would receive his brother
Master Stephen Langton to be archbishop of Canterbury. And when we
spake unto him touching the reservation and saving of our dignity
unto us, he told us that he would do no such thing for us, unless we
would wholly rely ourselves upon his courtesy and gentleness. This
therefore we command, that you know evil and wrong to be done unto us
in this behalf; and we charge you, that you belleve those things
which Reginald of Cornhill shall tell you on our part, touching the
foresaid deed between us and the bishops above named, &c. Witness the
king at Winchester the fourteenth day of March, in the ninth year of
his reign."

Now, albeit the king took indignation at this proceeding in the
election of Stephen, yet from thenceforth (saith Matthew Paris) the
pope could do no less but mightily defend him from all vexation and
danger; considering that he was his own dear darling, and a child of
his own creation.

Furthermore, upon this occasion King John conceived an exceeding
displeasure against the clergy and monks of Canterbury, as he had
good cause, they doing so many evils against his princely
prerogative. Without his licence they elected their archbishop, and
put by the bishop of Norwich, whom he had appointed. They wasted a
great part of his treasure for the wars; and to bring all to the
devil, they made Stephen Langton their high metropolitan, whom he
took for a grievous enemy to the whole realm, being always so
familiar with the French king. Wherefore in his anger he banished
them out of the land, to the number of threescore and four, for this
their contumacy and contempt of his regal power.

The monks of Canterbury thus being expulsed, the king forthwith
sendeth messengers to the pope with his letters, wherein he doth
sharply and expressly expostulate with the pope. First, for that so
uncourteously he repulsed the election of the bishop of Norwich, and
set up one Stephen Langton, a man unknown to him, and brought up
amongst his enemies a long time in the kingdom of France,
consecrating him archbishop of Canterbury, and letting the other go.
Also (which is more) for that it redoundeth to the subversion and
derogation of the liberties appertaining to his crown; for
notwithstanding his consent past, (being before of the monks not made
privy, which should have so done,) yet he rashly presumed to promote
and prefer another. Wherefore he cannot marvel (he saith) enough,
that neither the said pope, nor the court of Rome, doth consider and
revolve with themselves, how necessary his love and favour hath been
always hitherto to the see of Rome, and that they consider not what
great profit and revenues have proceeded hitherto to them out of the
realm of England; the like whereof hath not been received out of any
other country besides on this side the Alps. He addeth moreover and
saith, that for his liberties he will stand (if need be) unto death,
neither can he be so removed and shaken off from the election of the
bishop of Norwich, which he seeth to be so commodious to him and
profitable. Finally, he thus concludeth, saying, that in case in this
his request he be not heard, he will so provide by the seas that
there shall be no such gadding and coursing any moreover to Rome,
suffering the riches of the land no more to be transported over,
whereby he should be himself the less able to resist his enemies. And
seeing he hath of his own at home archbishops, bishops, and other
prelates of the church, both of Englishmen and of others,
sufficiently provided and instructed in all kind of knowledge;
therefore he shall not need greatly to seek for judgment and justice
further abroad.

When these came to the pope's intelligence, be directeth letters
again to the king in this form:

"Innocentius, pope, servant of the servants of God, to our well-
beloved son in Christ the king of England, health, and apostolical
blessing. Whereas we have written to you heretofore, exhorting and 
entreating you after a humble, diligent, and gentle sort, (concerning
the church of Canterbury,) you have written to us again after a
threatening sort and upbraiding manner; both spitefully and also
frowardly. And whereas we more and above that our right and duty
required have borne and given to you, you again for your part have
given to us not so much as by right and duty you are bound to do. And
though your devotion, as you say, hath been to us very necessary, yet
consider again that ours also is not a little opportune and expedient
for you. And whereas we in such-like cases have not showed at any
time the like honour to any prince as we have unto you, you again
have so much derogated our honour, as no prince else hath presumed to
do besides you alone; pretending certain frivolous causes and
occasions, I cannot tell what, why you would not condescend to the
election of Stephen Langton, cardinal of St. Chrysogono, chosen by
the monks of Canterbury; for that the sald Stephen (as you say) hath
been conversant and brought up amongst your enemies, and his person
is to you unknown. But you know what is the proverb of Solomon, The
net is cast, but in vain in the sight of the flying birds,' &c.

With much other matter in the same epistle; wherein he falleth into
the commendation of Stephen Langton his cardinal, declaring how
learned he was in the liberal arts, and in divinity, insomuch that he
was prebendated at Paris; also come of an honest stock, and an
Englishman born, and not unknown to the king, seeing the king had
written his letters thrice to him before. Declaring moreover in the
said letter, how the messengers of the king had specified to him
another cause; which was, for that the monks of Canterbury, which had
to do in the election, came not to him before for his consent.
Declaring moreover, in the said letter, how the said messengers of
the king entreated in the king's behalf, that forsomuch as the pope's
letters, wherein the king was commanded to send his proctors to Rome
for the same matter, came not to the king's hand, neither did the
monks direct any such letters or message to the king to have his
consent; therefore the pope, considering the same, would grant so
much for the regard of the king's honour, that the monks of
Canterbury should not proceed w ithout the kings assent therein. And
for somuch as that hath not been done as yet, therefore they desired
some delay therein to be given, sufficient for the doing thereof.
Whereunto he said, that he had granted and fulfilled their request,
in sending his letters and messengers once or twice to the king for
the same purpose, although he said it was not the manner of the see
apostolic, who had the fulness of power over the church of
Canterbury, to wait for princes' consents in such elections, who then
could not be suffered to do that which they came for. Wherefore, in
knitting up his letter, he thus concludeth in these words:

"And therefore, seeing the matter so standeth, we see no cause why we
should require or tarry for the king's favour or consent any more
therein, but intend so to proceed in this matter, neither inclining
on the right hand, nor on the left, according as the canonical
ordinances of the holy fathers shall direct us; that is, (all
impediments and delays set aside,) so to provide that the church of
Canterbury be not any longer destitute of her pastor. Wherefore be it
known to your discretion or kingly prudence, that forsomuch as this
election of Stephen Langton hath orderly and concordly thus proceeded
without fraud or deceit, upon a person meet for the same; therefore
we will for no man's pleasure, neither may we without danger of fame
and of conscience, defer or protract any longer the consummation of
the said election. Wherefore, my well-beloved son, seeing we have had
respect to your honour above that our right and duty required, study
to honour us so much as your duty requireth again, so that you may
the more plentifully deserve favour, both at God's hand and ours;
lest that, by doing the contrary, you bring yourself into such a peck
of troubles, as afterwards you shall scarce rid yourself of again.
For this know for a certain, in the end it must needs fall out, that
he shall have the better unto whom every knee (of heavenly, earthly,
and infernal creatures) doth bow, whose turn I serve in earth, though
I be unworthy. Therefore settle not yourself to obey their
persuasions, which always desire your unquietness, whereby they may
fish the better in the water when it is troubled; but commit yourself
to our pleasure, which undoubtedly shall turn to your praise, glory,
and honour. For it should not be much for your safety in this cause
to resist God and the church, in whose quarrel that blessed martyr
and glorious bishop Thomas hath of late shed his blood; especially
seeing your father and your brother, of famous memory, then kings of
England, did give over those three wicked customs into the hands of
the legates of the see apostolic. But if you yield yourself humbly
into our hands, we will look that you and yours shall be sufficiently
provided for, that no prejudice may arise hereupon to you-ward. Given
at Lateran the tenth year of our popedom."

Thus hast thou, gentle reader, the glorious letter of the proud pope;
I beseech thee mark it well. Now to the story.

After this letter was sent out, not long after proceedeth a charge
and commandment sent into England unto certain bishops there,
requiring them by authority apostolical, that if the said king would
not receive the said prior of Canterbury, and his monks, then they
should interdict him throughout all his realm. For the executing
whereof four bishops were appointed by the usurped power of the
pope's bulls: namely, William, bishop of London, Eustace, bishop of
Ely, Walter, bishop of Winchester, and Giles, bishop of Hereford.
Which said four bishops went unto the king, and showed their
commission from the pope, as is aforesaid, willing him to consent
thereto, &c. But the said king refused the same, and would by no
means grant to their request. Whereupon they, departing from his
Grace, went the morrow after the Annunciation of our Lady, and
pronounced the said general interdiction through out all England, so
that the church doors were shut up with keys, and other fastenings,
and with walls, &c.

Now when the king heard of this, he began to be moved against them,
and took all the possessions of the four bishops into his hands,
appointing certain men to keep the livings of the clergy through out
the realm, and that they should enjoy no part thereof. Which being
done, the bishops, seeing the same, cursed all them that kept or
should meddle with church goods against the will of them that owed
them; and understanding, for all that, that the king nothing regarded
their doings, they went over sea, to the bishop of Canterbury, and
informed him what had happened; who, hearing the same, willed them
again to return to Canterbury, and he would come thither to them, or
else send certain persons thither in his stead, that should do as
much as if he were there himself. Then when the bishops heard this,
they returned again to England, to Canterbury; and the tidings came
shortly to the king, that they were come thither again. And because
he might not himself travel to them, he sent thither bishops, earls,
and abbots to entreat them, that the archbishop whom he had chosen
might be admitted; promising the prior and all the monks of
Canterbury in his behalf, that he should never take any thing of the
church goods against the will of them that owe them: but would make
amends to them of whom he had taken any such goods, and that the
church should have all her franchises in as ample manner as in St.
Edward's time the Confessor it had.

(Illustration: Canterbury )

When the form of agreement was thus concluded, it was engrossed in a
pair of indentures; and the foresaid four bishops to the one part
thereof set their seals; and the other part the said bishops, earls,
and abbots carried to show the king. When the king saw the order
thereof, he liked it well, saving he would not agree to make
restitution of the church goods. So he sent to the four bishops again
that they should put out that point of restitution. But they answered
stoutly that they would not put out one word. Then the king sent word
to the archbishop by the four bishops, that he should come to
Canterbury to speak with him; and, for his safe conduct to come and
go again at his will, he sent his justices as pledges, Gilbert
Peiteuin, Wilham de la Bereuar, and John Letfitz. Which thing thus
done, the Archbishop Stephen came to Canterbury, anti the king,
hearing thereof, came to Chilham; from whence he sent his treasurer,
the bishop of Winchester, to him, to have him put out of the
indentures the clause of restitution aforesaid; who, denying to alter
any word of the same, moved the king in such sort, that immediately
it was proclaimed throughout England at the king's commandment, that
all those that had any church livings, and went over sea, should come
again into England by a certain day, or else lose their livings for
evermore. And further, in that proclamation, he charged all sheriffs
within the realm to inquire if any bishops, abbots, priors, or any
other churchman, from that day forward, received any commandment that
came from the pope, and that they should take his or their body, and
bring it before him; and also that they should take into their hands,
for the king's use, all the church lands that were given to any man
through the Archbishop Stephen, or by the priors of Canterbury, from
the time of the election of the archbishop; and further charged that
all the woods that were the archbishop's should be cut down and sold.

When tidings came to the pope that the king had thus done, being
moved thereby with fiery wrath, he sent to the king two legates, the
one called Pandulph, and the other Durant, to warn him in the pope's
name that he should cease his doings to the holy church, and amend
the wrong he had done to the archbishop of Canterbury, to the priors
and the monks of Canterbury, and to all the clergy of England. And
further, that he should restore the goods again that he had taken of
them against their will, or else they should curse the king by name;
and, to do this, the pope took them his letters in bulls patent.
These two legates, coming into England, resorted to the king to
Northampton, where he held his parliament; and, saluting him, said
they came from the pope of Rome, to reform the peace of holy church.
And, first, said they, we admonish you in the pope's behalf, that ye
make full restitution of the goods and of the lands that ye have
ravished holy church of; and that ye receive Stephen, the archbishop
of Canterbury, into his dignity, and the prior of Canterbury and his
monks; and that ye yield again unto the archbishop all his lands and
rents without any withholding. And, sir, yet moreover, that ye shall
make such restitution to them, as the church shall think sufficient.

Then answered the king, As touching the prior and his monks of
Canterbury, all that ye have said I would gladly do, and all things
else that you would ordain; but as touching the archbishop, I shall
tell you as it lieth in my heart. Let the archbishop leave his
bishopric; and if the pope then shall entreat for him, peradventure I
may like to give him some other bishopric in England; and upon this
condition I will receive and admit him.

Then said Pandulph unto the king, Holy church was wont never to
degrade archbishop without cause reasonable; but ever she was wont to
correct princes that were disobedient to her.

What! How now, (quoth the king,) threaten ye me? Nay, said Pandulph,
but ye have now openly told us as it standeth in your heart; and now
we will tell you what is the pope's will, and thus it standeth: He
hath wholly interdicted and cursed you, for the wrongs you have done
unto the holy church and unto the clergy. And forsomuch as ye will
dwell still in your malice, and will come to no amendment, you shall
understand, that from this time forward the sentences upon you given
have force and strength. And all those that with you have communed
before this time, whether that they he earls, barons, or knights, (or
any other whatso ever they be,) we assoil them safely from their sins
unto this day; and from this time forward (of what condition soever
they be) we accurse them openly, and specially by this our sentence,
that do commune with you. And we assoil moreover earls, barons,
knights, and all other manner of men, of their homages, services, and
fealties that they should do unto you. And this thing to confirm, we
give plain power unto the bishop of Winchester, and to the bishop of
Norwich; and the same power we give against Scotland unto the bishop
of Rochester and of Salisbury; and in Wales we give the same power to 
the bishops of St. David, and of Landaff, and of St. Asse.

Also, sir king, (quoth Pandulph,) all the kings, princes, and the
great dukes christened have laboured to the pope to have licence to
cross themselves, and to war against thee, as upon God's enemy, and
win thy land, and to make king whom it pleaseth the pope. And we here
now assoil all those of their sins that will rise against thee here
in thine own land.

Then the king, hearing this, answered, What shame may ye do more to
me than this?

Pandulph again: We say to you in verbo Dei, that neither you, nor any
heir that you have, after this day shall be crowned. So the king
said, By him that is Almighty God, if I had known of this thing
before ye came into this land, and that ye had brought me such news,
I should have made you tarry out these twelve months.

Then answered Pandulph, Full well we thought, at our first coming,
that ye would have been obedient to God and to holy church, and have
fulfilled the pope's commandment, which we have showed and pronounced
to you, as we were charged there with. And now ye say, that if ye had
wist the cause of our coming, ye would have made us tarry out a whole
year; who might as well say, that ye would have taken a whole year's
respite without the pope's leave; but for to suffer what death ye can
ordain, we shall not spare to tell you all the pope's message and
will that he gave us in charge.

In another chronicle I find the words between the king and Pandulph
something otherwise described; as though the king should first
threaten him with hanging, if he had foreknown of his coming. To whom
Pandulph again should answer, that he looked for nothing else at his
hand, but to suffer for the church's right. Whereupon the king, being
mightily incensed, departed. The king, the same time being at
Northampton, willed the sheriffs and bailiffs to bring forth all the
prisoners there, that such as had deserved should be put to death, to
the intent, as some think, to make Pandulph afraid. Among whom was a
certain clerk, who, for counterfeiting the king's coin, was also
condemned to be hanged, drawn, and quartered; and, moreover, by the
king was commanded (thereby to anger Pandulph the more, as may be
thought) to be hanged up highest above the rest. Pandulph hearing
thereof, notwithstanding he somewhat be gan to fear lest he should be
hanged himself, yet, with such courage as he had, be went to the
church to fetch out book, bell, and candle, charging that no man,
under pain of accursing, should lay hands upon the clerk. Upon this
the king and the cardinal departed in no little anger. And Pandulph
went to Rome, and reported to the pope and the cardinals what had
been done.

Then the pope summoned all the bishops, abbots, and clerks of England
to come and repair unto Rome, to consult what was to be done therein.
This council began the first day of October. In the which council it
was decreed by the pope and his assembly, that John, king of England,
should be accursed, with all such as held with him, every day so long
as that council endured. Albeit this was not yet granted, that the
people should be crossed to fight against him, because as yet he had
shed no blood. But afterwards the said Pope Innocent, seeing that
King John by no means would stoop under his subjection, nor under the
rule of his popish see, he sent unto the French king, upon remission
of all his sins, and of all that went with him, that he should take
with him all the power he might, and so to invade the realm of
England to destroy King John.

This occasion given, Pope Innocent yet once again commanded, in pain
of his great curse, that no man should obey King John, neither yet
keep company with him: he forbade all persons to eat and drink with
him, to talk with him, to commune or counsel with him; yea, his own
familiar household to do him any kind of service, either at bed or at
board, in church, hall, or stable. And what followed thereof? The
greater part of them which after such sort fled from him, (by the
ordinance of God,) of divers and sundry diseases the same year died.
And between both nations (English and French) fell that year great
amity; but secret, subtle, and false, to the bitter betraying of
England. Neither was the pope content only with this; but, moreover,
the said Pope Innocent gave sentence definitive, by counsel of his
cardinals, that King John should be put from his seat regal and
deposed, and another put in his room. And, to the speedy execution
thereof, he appointed the French king. Philip, promising to give him
full remission of all his sins, and the clear possession of all the
realm of England to him and his heirs, if he did either kill him or
expel him.

The next year the French king began his attempt, in hope of the crown
of England; being well manned with bishops, monks, prelates, and
priests, and their servants to maintain the same; bragging of the
letters which they had received from the great men there. But behold
the work of God! the English navy took three hundred of the French
king's ships well loaden with wheat, wine, meal, flesh, armour, and
such other like, meet for the war; and one hundred they burnt within
the haven, taking the spoils with them. In the mean time, the priests
within England had provided them a certain false counterfeit prophet,
called Peter Wakefield of Poiz; who was an idle gadder about, and a
prattling merchant. This Peter they made to prophesy lies, rumouring 
his prophecies abroad, to bring the king out of all credit with his
people. They noised it daily among the commons of the realm, thnt
Christ had twice appeared to this prophet of theirs in shape of a
child between the priests' hands, once at York, another time at
Pomfret; and that he had breathed on him thrice, saying, Peace,
peace, peace, and teaching many things which he anon after declared
to the bishops; and bid the people amend their naughty living. Being
rapt also in spirit, (they said,) he beheld the joys of heaven, and
sorrows of hell. For scant were there three (saith the chronicle)
among a thousand that lived Christianly. This counterfeit soothsayer
prophesied of King John, that he should reign no longer than the
Ascension day, within the year of our Lord 1213, which was the
fourteenth from his coronation; and this (he said) he had by
revelation. Then was it of him demanded, whether he should be slain,
or expelled, or should of himself give over the crown? He answered, 
that he could not tell. But of this he was sure, (he said,) that
neither he, nor any of his stock or lineage, should reign, that day
once finished. The king, hearing of this, laughed much at it, and
made but a scoff thereof. Tush, (saith he,) it is but an idiot knave,
and such a one as lacketh his right wits. But when this foolish
prophet had so escaped the danger of the king's displeasure, and that
he made no more of it, he gat him abroad, and prated thereof at
large, (as he was a very idle vagabond,) and used to tattle and talk
more than enough; so that they which loved the king caused him anon
after to be apprehended as a malefactor, and to be thrown into
prison, the king not knowing thereof.

Anon after, the fame of this fantastical prophet went all the realm
over, and his name was known everywhere, (as foolishness is much
regarded of people where wisdom is not in place,) specially because
he was then imprisoned for the matter, the rumour was the larger,
their wonderings were the wantoner, their practising the foolisher,
their busy talks and other idle occupyings the greater. Continually
from thence (as the rude manner of people is) old gossips' tales went
abroad, new tales were invented, fables were added to fables, and
lies grew upon lies; so that every day new slanders were raised on
the king, and not one of them true; rumours arose, blasphemies were
spread, the enemies rejoiced, and treasons by the priests were
maintained; and what likewise was surmised, or other subtlety
practised, all was then fathered upon this foolish prophet: as, Thus
saith Peter Wakefield; Thus hath he prophesied, and, This shall come
to pass; yea, many times when he thought nothing less. When the
Ascension day was come, which was prophesied of before, King John
commanded his regal tent to be spread abroad in the open field,
passing that day with his noble council and men of honour, in the
greatest solemnity that ever he did afore. solacing himself with
musical instruments and songs, most in sight amongst his trusty
friends, When that day was past in all prosperity and mirth, his
enemies, being confounded, turned all to an allegorical
understanding, to make the prophecy good, and said, He is no longer
king, for the pope reigneth, and not he; yet reigned he still, and
his son after him, to prove that prophet a a liar, Then was the king
by his council persuaded that this false prophet had troubled all the
realm, perverted the hearts of the people, and raised the commons
against him. For his words went over the sea by the help of his
prelates, and came to the French king's ear, and gave unto him a
great en couragement to invade the land; he had not else done it so
suddenly. But be was most foully deceived, as all they are and shall
be that put their trust in such dark, drowsy dreams of hypocrites.
The king therefore commanded that he should be drawn and hanged like
a traitor.

After that the popish prelates, monks, canons, priests, &c. saw this
their crafty juggling by their feigned prophet would not speed,
notwithstanding they had done no little harm thereby; to help the
matter more forward, they began to travail and practise with Pope
Innocent of the one side, and also with the French king on the other
side, besides subtle treasons which they wrought within the realm,
and by their confessions in the ear, whereby they both blinded the
nobility and commons. The king thus compassed about on every side
with enemies, and fearing the sequel thereof, knowing the
conspiracies that were in working against him, as well by the pope,
(in all that ever he might,) as also by Philip the French king by his
procurement; and moreover his own people, especially his lords and
barons, being rebelliously incited against him; as by the pope's
curses and interdictions against such as took his part, and by his
absolutions and dispensations with all those that would rebel against
him, commananding them to detain from him such homage, service,
duties, debts, and all other allegiance that godly subjects owe and
are bound to yield and give to their liege lord and prince: all which
things considered, the king, I say, in the thirteenth year of his
reign, for that the French king began to make sharp invasion upon him
within his own realm, sent speedy ambassadors to the pope (as to the
fountain of all this his mischief) to work and entreat his peace and
reconciliation with him, promising to do whatsoever the pope should
will him and command him in the reformation of himself, and
restitution of all wrongs done to holy church, and to make due
satisfaction therefore unto all men that could complain.

Then sent the pope again into England his legate Pandulph with other
ambassadors; the king also at Canterbury (by letters, as it should
seem, certified from his own ambassadors) waited their coming. Where,
the thirteenth day of May, the king received them, making unto them
an oath, that of and for all things wherein he stood accursed he
would make ample restitution and satisfaction. Unto whom also all the
lords and barons of England (so maay as there were with the king
attending the legate's coming) sware in like manner, that if the king
would not accomplish in every thing the oath which he had taken, then
they would cause him to bold and confirm the same, whether he would
or not, (or by strength,) to use the author's words.

Then submitted the king himself unto the court of Rome, and to the
pope, and, resigning, gave up his dominions and realms of England and
Ireland from him and from his heirs for evermore that should come of
him, with this condition, that the king and his heirs should take
again these two dominions of the pope to farm, paying yearly
therefore to the court of Rome one thousand marks of silver. Then
took the king the crown from his head, kneeling upon his knees, in
the prcsence of all his lords and barons of England, to Pandulph, the
pope's chief legate, saving in this wise: Here I resign up the crown
of the realm of England to the pope's hands, Innocent the Third, and
put me wholly in his mercy and ordinance. Then took Pandulph the
crown of King John, and kept it five days, as a possession and
seizin-taking of these two realms of England and Ireland; confirming
also all things promised by his charter obligatory as followeth.

"To all Christian people throughout the world dwelling, John, by the
grace of God king of England, greeting. To your university known be
it. that forsomuch as we have grieved and offended God and our mother
church of Rome, and forso much as we have need of the mercy of our
Lord Jesus Christ; and we may nothing so worthy offer, and competent
satisfaction make, to God and to holy church, (but if it were our own
body,) as with our realms of England and of Ireland; then by the
grace of the Holy Ghost we desire to meek us for the love of him,
that meeked him to the death upon the cross. And througb counsel of
the nobles, earls, and barons, we offer and freely grant to God, and
to the apostles St. Peter and Paul, and to our mo ther church of
Rome, and to our holy father Pope Innocent the Third, and to all the
popes that come after him, all the realm, patronages of churches of
England and of Ireland, with all the appurtenances, for remission of
sins, and help and health of our kings' souls, and of all Christian
souls. So that from this time afterward we will receive and hold of
our mother church of Rome as in farm, doing fealty to our holy father
the pope, Innocent the Third, and to all the popes that come after
him, in the manner above said. And in the presence of the wise man
Pandulph, the pope's sooth-deacon, we make liege homage, as if it
were in the pope's presence, and we before him were, and as if he
himself should have done all manner of things above said; and thereto
we bind us, and all that come after us, and our heirs for evermore,
without any gainsaying, to the pope, and eke the ward of the church
vacant. And in token of this thing ever for to last, we will,
confirm, and ordain, that he be our special renter of the foresaid
realms (saving St. Peter pence) in all things. To the mother church
of Rome paying by the year one thousand marks of silver, at two times
of the year, for all manner of customs that we should do for the said
realms; that is to say, at Michaelmas and at Easter; that is, for
England seven hundred marks, and three hundred marks for Ireland;
saving to us and to our heirs our justices and our other franchises.
And all these things that have been said before, we will that they be
firm and stable without end; and to that obligation we, and all our
successors, and our heirs in this manner will be bound, that if we or
any of our heirs through any presumption fail in any point again of
these things above said, (and after being warned, he will not right
amend him,) he shall then lose the foresaid realms for evermore, and
this charter of obligation and our warrant for evermore be firm and
stable without gainsaying. We shall from this day afterward be true
to God, and to the mother church of Rome, and to thee, Innocent the
Third, and to all that come after thee; and the realms of England and
of Ireland we shall maintain truly in all manner of points, against
all manner of men, by our power, through God's help."

Upon this obligation the king was discharged, the second day of July.
from that tyrannical interdiction, under which he continued six years
and three months. But before the releasement thereof, first he was
miserably compelled (as hath been declared) to give over both his
crown and sceptre to that antichrist of Rome for the space of five
days, and, as his client, vassal, feudary, and tenant, to receive it
again of him at the hands of another cardinal: being bound
obligatory, both for himself and for his successors, to pay yearly
(for acknowledgment thereof) one thousand marks for England and
Ireland. Then came they thither from all parts of the realm so many
as had their consciences wounded for obeying their liege king, as
blind idiots, and there they were absolved, every one of his own
bishop, except the spiritual fathers and ecclesiastical soldiers, for
they were compelled to seek to Rome, as captives reserved to the
pope's own fatherhood. In this new ruffling the king easily granted,
that abbots, deans, and curates should be elected freely everywhere,
so that the laws of the realm were truly observed. But against that
were the bishops, alleging their canonical decrees and rules synodal,
determining the king therein to have nothing to do, but only to give
his consent after they had once elected. But among this shaven rabble
some there were which consented not to this wicked error; a sort also
there were of the prelates at that time which were not pleased that
the land's interdiction should cease, till the king had paid all that
which their clergy in all quarters of the realm had demanded, without
reason; yea, what every saucy Sir John for his part demanded, even to
the very breaking of their hedges, the stealing of their apples, and
their other occasional damages, which grew to an incredible sum, and
impossible to be answered, Such was the outrageous cruel noise of
that mischievous progeny of antichrist against their natural king.

Notwithstanding that which is uttered afore concerning the bitter
malice of the clergy against their prince, yet did the pope's legate
and cardinal Nicolaus Tusculanus much favour his doings, and allow of
his proceedings. Wherefore they reported of him, that he was
exceeding partial, and regarded not their matters ecclesiastical, as
he should have done. For, leaving the account of their restitutions,
he went with the king's officers, as the king's pleasure was, to the
cathedral minsters, abbeys, priories, deaneries, and great churches
vacant; and there for the next incumbent always he appointed two, one
for the king, another for the parties. But upon him only whom the
king nominated he compelled most commonly the election to pass,which
vexed them wonderfully. Upon this, therefore, they raised a new
conspiracy against the king's person by help of their bishops,
seditious prelates, and such noblemen as they had drawn to their
parties. We beheld (saith Hoveden) about the same time many noble
houses and assemblies divided in many places. The fathers and the
aged men stood upon the king's part, but the younger sort contrary.
And some there were that for the love of their kindred, and in other
sundry respects, forsook the king again. Yea, the fame went that
time, saith he, that they were confederated with Alexander, the
Scottish king, and Leolin, the prince of Wales, to work him an utter
mischief. The archbishop called a council at Oxford; whereat some
would not tarry, considering the confusion thereof; the other sort,
having very obstinate hearts, reviled the king most spitefully behind
his back, and said that from thenceforth he ought to be taken for no
governor of theirs. Their outrageous and frantic clamours so much
prevailed in those days, that it grew to a grievous tumult, and a
most perilous commotion.

In the year of our Lord 1215, as witnesseth Paulus Æmilius, and other
histories, Pope Innocent the Third held a general synod at Rome,
called the Council Lateran. The chief causes of that council were
these: In the days of this Innocent, heresy (as he calleth the truth
of God, or the doctrine that rebuketh sin) began to rise up very
high, and to spread forth his branches abroad; by reason whereof many
princes were excommunicated; as Otho, the emperor, John, the king of
England, Peter, king of Arragon, Raymond, the earl of Tholouse,
Aquitania, Sataloni, and such other like, as is aforesaid, So that it
could be no otherwise, saith Hoveden, but with the sharp axe of the
gospel (so called he the pope's excommunications) they ought of
necessity to have been cut off from the church. Therefore was this
council provided, proclaimed, and prelates from all nations thereunto
called. And to colour those mischiefs which he then went about, he
caused it by his legates and cardinals (very crafty merchants) to be
noised abroad, that his intent therein was only to have the church 
universally reformed, and the Holy Land from the Turks' hands
recovered. But all this was craft and falsehood, as the sequel
thereof hath manifestly declared. For his purpose thereby was to
subdue all princes, and to make himself rich and wealthy. For there
he made this antichristian act, and established it by public decree,
that the pope should have from thenceforth the correction of all
Christian princes, and that no emperor should be admitted, except he
were sworn before, and were also crowned of him. He ordained
moreover, that whosoever he were that should speak evil of the pope,
he should he punished in hell with eternal damnation. He provided
confession to help these matters; he allowed their bread a pix to
cover him, and a bell when he goeth abroad; and made the mass equal
with Christ's gospel.

In this council was first invented and brought in transubstantiation,
of which Johannes Scotus, whom we call Duns, maketh mention in his
fourth book, writing in these words: "The words of the Scripture
might be expounded more easily and more plainly without
transubstantiation. But the church did choose this sense, which is
more hard; being moved thereunto, as it seemeth, chiefly, because
that of the sacraments men ought to hold as the holy Church of Rome
holdeth," &c. And in the same place he maketh mention of Innocentius
the Third.

Moreover, in the said council was established and ratified the
wretched and impious act compelling priests to abjure lawful
matrimony. Whereupon these metres or verses were made the same time
against him, which here follow under-written.

Nocent, not innocent, he is that seeketh to deface
By word the thing that he by deed hath taught men to embrace;
Which being now a bishop old, doth study to destroy
The thing which he a young man once did covet to enjoy.
Priest Zachary beth had a wife, and had a child also,
By means of whom there did to him great praise and honour grow;
For he did baptize Him which was the Saviour of mankind:
Ill him befall that holdeth this new error in his mind.
Into the higher heavens good Paul was lifted from below,
And many secret, hidden things be leaned there to know:
Returned at length from them to us, and teaching rules of life,
He said, Let each man have his own and only wedded wife.
For this and other documents of them that learned be.
Much better and more comely eke it seemeth unto me.
That each should have his own alone, and not his neighbours
wife,
Lest with his neighbour he do fall in hate and wrathful strife.
Thy neighhours' daughters, or their wives, or nieces to defile,
Unlawful is, therefore beware do not thyself beguile.
Have thou thine own true wedded wife, delight in her alway,
With safer mind that thou mayst look to see the later day.


Now let us return to King John again, and mark how the priests and
their adherents were plagued for their humble handlings of his
Majesty's will. In the foresaid Council of Lateran, and the same
year, was Stephen Langton, archbishop of Canterbury. excommunicated
of Pope Innocent, with all those bishops, prelates, priests, barons,
and commons which had been of counsel with him in the former
rebellion. And when the said archbishop had made instant suit of him
to be absolved, anon he made him this answer with great indignation:
Brother mine, I swear by St. Peter thou shalt not so soon at my hand
obtain the benefit of absolution; for why? thou hast not only done
harm to the king of England. but also thou hast in a great many of
things injured the Church of Rome here: and therefore thou shalt
tarry my leisure. The archbishop was also at that time suspended out
of the church, and commanded to say no mass at all, neither yet to
exercise any other ecclesiastical office; because he would not at
time convenient execute the pope's curse upon the rebellious barons.
With them the said pope had been so deeply offended and angered a
little before, that the great charter of the liberties of England
(with great indignation and countenance most terrible) he rent and
destroyed, by sentence definitive condemning it for ever; and by and
by thereupon cursed all the other rebels, with book, bell, and
candle. The greater captains of them (with the citizens of London)
for that assay were pronounced excommunicate by name, and remained
still interdicted. They appealed then to the council general.

In the same year, 1215, were those great men also summoned to appear
at Rome in that general synod, which would not consent to their
king's expulsion, nor yet tyrannical deposing. Though they were
called (they said) thereunto by the archbishop of Canterbury and
others, and required by oath to subscribe unto the same; yet could
they not of their conscience do it, because he had humbled himself,
and also granted to keep peace with all men. Thus was the whole realm
miserably then divided into two factions through malice of the
clergy: so strifes increased in the land everywhere. Yet were there
of the lords and gentlemen a great number at that time that followed
the king and allowed his doings. But they which were on the other
side, not a little suspecting the state that they were in, fled
speedily to the French king Philip; desiring him that he would grant
to them his eldest son Louis, and they would elect him to he their
king, and that without much tarriance. They besought him, moreover,
that he would send with him a strong and mighty power, such as were
able to subdue him utterly, that they might (they said) be delivered
of such a wicked tyrant. Such was the report that those most wicked
papists gave their Christian governor, appointed to them of God; whom
they ought to have obeyed, though he had been evil, even for very
conscience sake, Rom. xiii. And as certain of the lords and barons
were busy to choose the said Louis for their king, the pope sent
thither one Gualo, the cardinal of St. Martin, to stay those rash and
cruel attempts; charging the French king, upon his allegiance, that
he with all power possible should favour, maintain, and defend King
John of England, his feudary or tenant. The French king thereto made
answer, as one not content with that arrogant precept, The realm of
England, said he. was never yet any part of St. Peter's patrimony,
neither is it now, nor yet any time shall be hereafter. Thus spake
he, for that he was in hope to obtain it for his son by treason of
the barons.

No prince or potentate (said Philip the French king) may pledge or
give away his kingdom, which is, beside the realm, the government of
his whole commonwealth, without the lawful consent of his barons,
which are bound to defend the same. If the pope shall introduce or
set up such a precedent in Christianity, he shall at his pleasure
bring all Christian kings and their kingdoms to nought. I like not
this example in these days begun. I cannot therefore allow this fact
of King John of England: though he be my utter adversary, yet I much
lament that he hath so endamaged his realm, and hath brought that
noble ground and queen of provinces under miserable tribute. The
chief lords and men of his nobility standing by when he uttered these
words, being as it were in a fury, cried with one voice, By the blood
of God, in whom we trust to be saved, we will stick in this article
to the losing of our heads. Let the king of England do therein what
him liketh; no king may put his land under tribute, and so make his
nobility captive servants. With that came in Louis the king's eldest
son, and said unto them all there present, I beseech you, let not my
purposed journey; the barons of England have elected me for their
lord and king, and I will not surely lose my right, but I will fight
for it even to the very death, yea, so long as heart shall stir
within my breast: and I doubt not but I shall well obtain it, for I
have friends among them. His father the king stood still, as if he
had been in a dump, and answered never a word, but fared as though he
had dissembled the matter, Belike he mistrusted something therein, as
he might well enough; for all was procured by the priests, that they
might live licentiously in all wealth and freedom from the king's
yoke.

About the same time were such treasons and conspiracies wrought by
the bishops, priests, and monks throughout all the realm, that the
king knew not where to become or find trusty friends: he was then
compelled, by the uncertainty of his subjects, to travel from place
to place, but not without a great army of men, looking every day when
his barons and their confederates would cruelly set upon him. At last
he came to Dover. and there looked for aid from other quarters, which
loved him better than did his own people. And thither resorted to him
from Flanders, Brabant, and Holland, on the one side, and from
Guienne, Gascony, and Poictiers, on the other side, and from other
countries besides, a wonderful number of men. The report then went,
that the pope had written unto those countries mightily to assist him
for divers considerations: one was, for that he had both submitted
himself and his dominions unto his protection: another was, because
he had taken upon him, a little before, the livery of the cross, to
win again Jerusalem: the third was, for that be had gotten by him the
dominion of England and Ireland, and feared to lose both, if he
should chance to decay. For the space of three months the king
remained in the Isle of Wight abroad in the air, to quiet himself for
a time from all manner of tumults, and led there a solitary life
among rivers and watermen; whereas he rather counted to die than to
live, being so traitorously handled of his bishops and barons, and
not knowing how to be justly avenged of them. Upon the purification
day of our Lady therefore he took upon him the cross or voyage
against the Turks, for recovery of Jerusalem, moved thereto rather
for the doubts which he had of his people, than for any other
devotion else. And thus he said to his familiar servants: Since I
submitted myself and my lands, England and Ireland, to the Church of
Rome, (sorrow come to it,) never thing prospered with me, but all
hath gone against me.

In the next year after, 1216, was Simon Langton chosen archbishop of
York; but that election soon after was dissolved; for information was
given to the pope, that the said Simon was brother to Stephen
Langton, the archbishop of Canterbury, which had been the occasion of
all the tumults which were at that time in England. And the pope had
the more hate unto him, for that he had brought him up of nought, and
did find him at that time so stubborn; wherefore he placed in his
brother's place Walter Gray, the bishop of Winchester.

In the same year, Gualo, the pope's legate, renewed his great curse
upon Louis, the French king's son, for usurping upon King John;
likewise upon Simon Langton, and Gervais Hobruge, for provoking him
to the same, and that with a wonderful solemnity; for in that doing
he made all the bells to be rung, the candles to be light, the doors
to be opened and the book of excommunications or interdictions
publicly to be read, committing them wholly to the devil for their
contumacy and contempt. He also commanded the bishops and curates to
publish it abroad over all the whole realm, to the terror of all his
subjects. The said Simon and Gervais laughed him to scorn, and
derided much his doings in that behalf, saying that, for the just
title of Louis, they had appealed to the general council at Rome.

The magistrates of London, and citizens of the same, did likewise
despise and disdainfully mock all that the pope had there commanded
and done. And, in spite both of him and his legate, they kept company
with them that were excommunicated, both at table and at church,
showing themselves thereby as open contemners both of him and his
laws. Louis at London, taking himself for king, constituted Simon
Langton for his high chancellor, and Gervais Hobruge for his chief
preacher, by whose daily preachings (as well the barons as the
citizens themselves being excommunicated) he caused all the church
doors to be opened, and the service to be sung; and the said Ludovike
was in all points fit for their hands. About this time was Pandulph,
then cardinal, collecting the Peter pence, an old pillage of the
pope, taking great pains therein. And for his great lahours in those
the affairs of holy church, and for other great miracles besides, he
was then made bishop of Norwich, to the augmenting of his dignity and
expenses.

It chanced about this time, that the viscount of Melun, a very noble
man of the realm of France, which came thither with the Prince Louis,
fell deadly sick at London, and also moved in conscience to call
certain of the English barons unto him, such as were there appointed
to the custody of that city, said unto them, "I lament your sorrowful
case, and pity with my heart the destruction that is coming towards
you and your country." The dangerous snares which are prepared for
your utter confusion are hidden from you; you do not behold them, but
take you heed of them in time. Prince Louis hath sworn a great oath,
and sixteen of his earls and noblemen are of counsel with him, that
if he obtain the crown of England, be will banish all them from
service, and deprive them of lands and goods, as many as he findeth
now to go against their liege king, and are traitors to his noble
person. And because you shall not take this tale for a fable, I
assure you on my faith, lying now at the mercy of God, that I was one
of them which was sworn to the same. I have great conscience thereof,
and therefore I give you this warning. I pity poor England, which
hath been so noble a region, that now it is come to so extreme
misery. And when he with tears had lamented it a space, he returned
again unto them, and said. My friends, I counsel you earnestly to
look to yourselves, and to provide the remedy in time, lest it come
upon you unawares. Your king for a season hath kept you under; but if
Louis prevail, be will put you from all: of two extreme evils choose
the more easy, and keep that secret which I have told you of good
will. With that he gave over and departed this life.

When this was once noised among the barons, they were in great
heaviness; for they saw themselves entrapped every way, and to be in
exceeding great danger. And this daily augmented that fear which then
came upon the barons. They were extremely hated of the pope and his
legates, and every week came upon them new excommunications. Daily
detriments they had besides in their possessions and goods, in their
lands and houses, corn and cattle, wives and children; so that some
of them were driven to such need, that they were enforced to seek
preys and booties for sustaining their miserable lives. For look
whatsoever Prince Louis obtained by his wars, either territories or
castles, he gave them all to his Frenchmen, in spite of their heads,
and said that they were but traitors, like as they had warning afore,
which grieved them worst of all. At the last, they perceiving that
they in seeking to avoid one mischief were ready to fall into another
much worse, they began to lay their heads together, consenting to
submit themselves wholly with all humility unto the mercy of their
late sovereign and natural liege lord King John. And for that they
were somewhat in doubt of their lives for the treason before
committed, many of the friends of them which were of most credit with
him made suit for them. So were a great number of them pardoned,
after instant and great suit made for them. I here omit his recovery
of Rochester castle and city, with many other dangerous adventures
against the foresaid Louis, both at London, York, Lincoln,
Winchester, Norwich, and other places else, as things not pertaining
to my purpose. And now I return to my matter again.

Into Suffolk and Norfolk he consequently journeyed, with a very
strong army of men, and there with great mischief he afflicted them,
because they had given place and were sworn to his enemies. After
that, he destroyed the abbeys of Peterhorough and Crowland, for the
great treasons which they also had wrought against him, and so he
departed from thence into Lincolnshire.

In this year, A.D. 1216, about the seventeenth day of July, died Pope
Innocent the Third, and was buried, in a city called Perugia in
Italy; whither he had travelled to make a peace between the Genoese
and Pisans, for his own commodity and advantage. After him anon
succeeded one Centius, otherwise called Honorius III., a man of very
great age; yet lived he in the papacy ten years and a half, and more.
When this was once known in England, greatly rejoiced all they which
were King John's enemies, specially the priests; yet had they small
cause, as will appear hereafter. They noised it all the realm over,
that this new pope would set a new order, and not rule all things as
the other pope did; thinking thereby that he would have done all
things to their commodity; but they found it otherwise. For he made
all them which were excommunicate to pay double and treble, ere they
could be restored again to their former livings.

And in the selfsame year, as King John was come to Swinstead abbey,
net far from Lincoln, he rested there two days; where, as most
writers testify, he was most traitorously poisoned by a monk of that
abbey, of the sect of the Cistercians, or St. Bernard's brethren,
called Simon of Swinstead. As concerning the noble personage of this
prince, this testimony giveth Roger Heveden therein: "Doubtless,"
saith he, "King Jobn was a mighty prince, but not so fortunate as
many were; not altogether unlike to Marius the noble Roman, he tasted
of fortune both ways; bountiful in mercy; in wars sometimes he won,
sometimes again he lost. He was also very bounteous and liberal unto
strangers, but of his own people (for their daily treasons' sake) he
was a great oppressor, so that he trusted more to foreigners than to
them."

Among other divers and sundry conditions belonging to this king, one
there was which is not in him to be reprehended, but commended
rather; for that, being far from the superstition which kings at that
time were commonly subject to, he regarded not the popish mass, as in
certain chronicles written of him may be collected; for this I find
testified of him by Matthew Paris, that the king upon a time in his
hunting, coming where a very fat stag was cut lip and opened. (or how
the hunters term it I cannot tell.) the king beholding the fatness
and the liking of the stag. "See," saith he. "how easily and happily
he hath lived, and yet for all that he never heard any mass."

It is recorded and found in the chronicle of William Caxton, called
Fructus Temporum, and in the seventh book, that the foresaid monk
Simon, being much offended with certain talk that the king had at his
table, concerning Louis, the French king's son, (which then had
entered and usurped upon him,) did cast in his wicked heart how he
most speedily might bring him to his end. And first of all he
counselled with his abbot, showing bim the whole matter, and what he
was minded to do. He alleged for himself the prophecy of Caiaphas,
John xi., saying, It is better that one man die, than all the people
should perish. "I am well contented," saith he," to lose my life, and
so become a martyr, that I may utterly destroy this tyrant." With
that the abbot did weep for gladness, and much commended his fervent
zeal, as he took it. The monk then being absolved of his abbot for
doing this act, (aforehand) went secretly into a garden upon the back
side. and finding there a most venomous toad, he so pricked him and
pressed him with his penknife, that he made him vomit all the poison
that was within him. This done, he conveyed it into a cup of wine,
and with a smiling and flattering countenance he said thus to the
king: "If it shall like your princely majesty, here is such a cup of
wine as ye never drank a better before in all your lifetime; I trust
this wassail shall make all England glad:" and with that he drank a
great draught thereof, the king pledging him. The monk anon after
went to the farmary, and there died, (his entrails gushing out of his
body,) and had continually from thenceforth three monks to sing mass
for his soul, confirmed by their general chapter. What became after
that of King John, ye shall know right well in the process following.
I would ye did mark well the wholesome proceedings of these holy
votaries, how virtuously they obey their king, whom God hath
appointed, and how religiously they bestow their confessions,
absolutions, and masses.

The king within a short space after, feeling great grief in his body,
asked for Simon the monk; and answer was made that he was departed
this life. Then God have mercy upon me (said he); I suspected as
much, after he had said that all England should thereof be glad; he
meant now I perceive those of his own generation. With that he
commanded his chariot to be prepared, for he was not able to ride. So
went he from thence to Sleaford castle, and from thence to Newark on
Trent, and there within less than three days he died. Upon his death-
bed he much repented his former life, and forgave all them with a
pitiful heart that had done him injury; desiring that his elder son
Henry might be admonished by his example, and learn by his
misfortunes to be natural, favourable, gentle, and loving to his
natural people. When his body was embalmed and spiced, as the manner
is of kings, his bowels or entrails were buried at Croxton abbey,
which was of the sect of Premonstratenses, or canons of St. Norbert.
His hired soldiers, both Englishmen and strangers, were still about
him, and followed his corpse triumphantly in their armour, till they
came to the cathedral church of Worcester, and there honourably was
he buried by Silvester the bishop, betwixt St. Oswald and St.
Wolstan, two bishops of that church. He died in the year of our Lord
1216, the nineteenth day of October, after he had reigned in such
calamity, by the subtle conveyance of his clergy, eighteen years, and
six months, and odd days. Now so soon as King John was dead and
buried, (as is said before,) the princes, lords, and barons, so many
as were of his part, (as well of strangers as of them that were born
here,) by counsel of the legate Gualo, gathered themselves together,
and all with one consent proclaimed Henry his son for their king. Of
whom more shall follow (the Lord willing) hereafter.

(Illustration: The tomb of King John )

Many opinions are among the chroniclers of the death of King John.
Some of them do write that he died of sorrow and heaviness of heart,
as Polydore; some, of surfeiting in the night, as Hadulphus Niger;
some, of a bloody flux, as Roger Hoveden; some, of a burning ague;
some, of a cold sweat; some, of eating apples; some, of eating pears;
some, of plums, &c.

Thus you see what variety is among the writers concerning the death
of this King John. Of which writers, although the most agree in this,
that he was poisoned by the monk above named, yet Matthew Paris,
something differing from the others, writeth thus concerning his
death, that he going from Lynn to Lincolnshire, and there hearing of
the loss of his carriage and of his treasures upon the washes, was
plunged into great heaviness of mind; insomuch that he fell thereby
into a fervent fever, being at the abbey of Swinstead. This ague he
also increased through evil surfeiting and naughty diet, by eating
peaches and drinking of new ciser, or, as we call it, cider. Thus,
being sick, he was carried to the castle of Sleaford, and from thence
to the castle of Newark: where, calling for Henry his son, he gave to
him the succession of his crown and kingdom, writing to all his lords
and nobles to receive him for their king; and shortly after. upon St.
Lucy's even, departed this life, being buried at Worcester.

In Gisburn I find otherwlse, who, dissenting from others, saith that
he was poisoned with a dish of pears, which the monk had prepared for
the king therewith to poison him. He asking the king whether he would
taste of his fruit, and being bid to bring them in; according to the
king's bidding, did so. At the bringing in whereof (saith the story)
the precious stones about the king began to sweat; insomuch that the
king, misdoubting some poison, demanded of the monk what he had
brought. He said, of his fruit, and that very good, the best that
ever he did taste. "Eat," said the king. And he took one of the pears
which he did know, and did eat. Also being bid to take another, he
did eat likewise savourily, and so likewise the third. Then the king,
refraining no longer, took one of the poisoned pears, and was
therewith poisoned, as is beforesaid.

In the reign of this King Joim, the citizens of London first obtained
of the king to choose yearly a mayor. In whose time also the bridge
of London was first builded of stone, which before was of wood.



49. KING HENRY III.

AFTER this King John had reigned, as some say, seventeen years, or,
as some say, though falsely, nineteen years, he was, as is above
said, poisoned and died. This king left behind him four sons and
three daughters: first, Henry; the second, Richard, and he was earl
of Cornwall: the third, William of Valentia; the fourth, Guido
Disenaie: he had also another son, who afterward was made bishop. Of
his daughters, the first was Isabella, married afterward to Frederic
the emperor: the second, named Eleanor, married to William, earl
marshal; the third to Mountfort. the earl of Leicester. &c. Another
story saith that he had but two daughters, Isabella, and Eleanor, or,
as another calleth her, Joan, which was after queen of Scotland.

This King John being deceased, who had many enemies, both of earls,
barons, and especially of the popish clergy, Henry, the eldest son,
was then of the age of nine years; at what time the most of the lords
of England did adhere to Louis, or Ludovic, the French king's son,
whom they had sent for before, in displeasure of King John, to be
their king, and had sworn to him their allegiance. Then William, earl
marshal, a nobleman, and of great authority, and a grave and sound
counsellor, friendly and quietly called unto him divers earls and
barons; and taking this Henry the young prince, son of King John,
setteth him before them, using these words: "Behold, saith he, "right
honourable and well-beloved, although we have persecuted the father
of this young prince for his evil demeanour, and worthily; yet this
young child, whom here ye see before you, as he is in years tender,
so is he pure and innocent from these his father's doings; wherefore,
inasmuch as every man is charged only with the burden of his own
works and transgressions, neither shall the child, as the Scripture
teacheth us, bear the iniquity of his father; we ought therefore of
duty and conscience to pardon this young and tender prince, and take
compassion of his age, as ye see. And now forsomuch as he is the
king's natural and eldest son, and must be our sovereign and king,
and successor of this kingdom; come and let us appoint him our king
and governor: and let us remove from us this Louis the French king's
son, and suppress his people, which is a confusion and a shame to our
nation; and the yoke of our servitude let us cast off from our
shoulders." To these words spake and answered the earl of Gloucester:
"And by what reason or right," said he, "can we so do, seeing we have
called him hither, and have sworn to him our fealty?"

Whereunto the earl marshal inferred again, and said, "Good right and
reason we have, and ought of duty to do no less; for that he,
contrary to our mind and calling, hath abused our affiance and
fealties. Truth it is we called him, and meant to prefer him to be
our chieftain and governor; but he eftsoons, surprised in pride, hath
contemned and despised us; and if we shall so suffer him, he will
subvert and overthrow both us and our nation; and so shall we remain
a spectacle of shame to all men, and be as outcasts of all the
world."

At these words all they, as inspired from above, cried all together
with one voice, "Be it so, he shall be our king." And so the day was
appointed for his coronation, which was the day of Simon and Jude.
This coronation was kept, not at Westminster, forsomuch as
Westminster the same time was holden of the Frenchmen, but at
Gloucester, the safest place, as was thought, at that time in the
realm, A.D. 1216, by Swalo, the pope's legate, through counsel of all
the lords and barons that held with his father King John, to wit, the
bishop of Winchester, bishop of Bath, bishop of Chester, and bishop
of Worcester, the earl Raduiph of Chester, William, earl marshal,
William, earl of Pembroke, William Tren, earl of Ferers, William de
Brewer, Serle or Samarike de Mal, baron. These were at the crowning
of the king at Gloucester. Many other lords and barons there were,
which as yet held with Louis the French king's son, to whom they had
done their homage before. And immediately after the crowning of this
king he held his council at Bristow at St. Martin's feast; where were
assembled eleven bishops of England and Wales, with divers earls, and
barons, and knights of England, all which did swear fealty to the
king. After which homage thus done to the king, the legate Swalo
interdicted Wales, because they held with the foresaid Louis; and
also the barons and all others, as many as gave help or counsel to
Louis, or any other that moved or stirred any war against King Henry,
the new king, he accursed them. All which notwithstanding, the said
Louis did not cease, but first laid siege to the castle of Dover
fifteen days. When he could not prevail there, he took the castle of
Berkhamstead, and also the castle of Hertford, doing much harm in the
countries, in spoiling and robbing the people where he went; by
reason whereof the lords and commons, which held with the king,
assembled themselves together to drive Louis and his men out of the
land. But some of the barons with the Frenchmen in the mean season
went to Lincoln, and took the city, and held it to the use of Louis.
Which being known, eftsoons a great power of the king's part made
thither, as earl Radulph of Chester, William, earl marshal, and
William de Brewer, earl of Ferers, with many other lords, and gave
battle unto Louis and his party; so that in conclusion Louis lost the
field, and of his side were slain the earl of Perche, Saer do Quincy,
earl of Winchester, Henry de Ia Bohun, earl of Hertford, and Sir
Robert le Fitzwater, with divers other more. Whereupon Louis for
succour fled to London, causing the gates there to be shut and kept,
waiting there for more succour out of France. Which as soon as the
king had knowledge of, immediately he sent to the mayor and burgesses
of the city, willing them to render them and their city to him as
their chief lord and king, promising to grant to them again all their
franchises and liberties as in times past, and to confirm the same by
his great charter and seal. In this mean time, on Bartholomew even,
Eustace, a French lord, accompanied with many other lords and nobles
of France, come with a great power, to the number of a hundred ships,
to aid and assist the said Lewis; who, before they arrived, were
encountered upon the seas by Richard, King John's bastard son: who,
having no more but eighteen ships to keep the cinque ports, set
eagerly upon them, and through God's grace overcame them, where
presently he smote off the head of Eustace: the rest of the French
lords, to the number of ten, he brought with him to the land, where
he imprisoned them in the castle of Dover, and slew almost all their
men that came with them, and sunk their ships in the sea; only
fifteen ships (saith some of my stories) escaped away. Ludovic or
Louis hearing this loss of his ships and men, and misdoubting his own
life for the great mischief he had done to the realm, sought means by
Swalo, and the archbishop of Canterbury, and by other lords, to be at
accord with the king. With whom at length it was so concluded and
agreed, that for his costs and expenses he should have a thousand
pounds of silver given. Matthew Paris speaketh of fifteen thousand
marks, which he borrowed of the Londoners, that he should depart the
realm, never to return into England again, neither he nor any of his.

This done, he, with all the other barons that took his part, was
assoiled of Swalo the legate. And thus peace being confirmed at
Merton, Louis took his leave: and being brought honourably to the sea
with the bishop of Canterbury and other bishops, earls, and barons,
he returned home into France.

And here, saith Gisburn, it was truly verified that was before spoken
of the French king father of Louis. At what time the said Louis was
in England, his father the French king demanded of his messengers
coming into France where his son was. And they said, at Stamford. And
he asking again whether he had got the castle of Dover. And they
said, No. Then the father, swearing by the arm of St. James, My son,
quoth he, hath not one foot in England; as afterward well proved
true.

But the chiefest help that repelled Louis and the Frenchmen out of
the realm, and that most preferred King John's son to the crown, was
the singular working of God's hand, whereof mention was made before;
which was through the confession of a certain gentleman of the French
host, (as Florilegus doth testify.) who lying sore sick at the point
of death, and seeing no hope to escape, was touched in conscience,
for danger of his soul's health, openly to confess and utter to the
barons of England what was the purpose of the Frenchmen to do; who
were conspired and sworn together among themselves, with a privy
compaction, that, so soon as they subdued the land, they should
thrust all the chief and nobles thereof into perpetual exile out of
the realm, whereout they should never return again. This coming to
the ears of the barons, as is said, gave them to consider more with
themselves, whereby many of them were the more willing to leave
Louis, and apply to their natural king and prince. Which no less may
also be an admonition to all times and ages for Englishmen to take
heed, not to admit or to place foreign rulers into the realm, lest
perhaps it follow that they be displaced themselves.

After the happy departure of this Louis and his Frenchmen out of the
land, whereby the state of this realm, long vexed before, was now
somewhat more quieted; immediately Swalo the legate, looking to his
harvest, directeth forth inquisitors through every shire, to search
out all such bishops, abbots, priors, canons, and secular priests, of
what order or degree soever they were, that with any succour or
counsel did either help, or else consented to Louis. For all these
were exempted out of the charter of pardon and absolution made
before, between the king and Louis. By reason whereof no small gain
grew to the pope and the cardinal; for all such were either put out
of their livings and sent up to the pope: or else were fain to fine
sweetly for them. Among whom, besides a great number of other clerks,
both religious and secular, was Hugo, bishop of Lincoln, who, for the
recovery of his bishopric, disbursed one thousand marks to the pope,
and one hundred marks to the foresaid Swalo the legate, who now (as
Paris recordeth) by this time had gathered in a fair crop of that
which he did never sow.

About this season, or not much before, died Pope Innocent the Third,
in the nineteenth year of his popedom, to whose custody Frederic, the
nephew of Frederic Barbarossa, being yet young, was committed by the
empress his mother; of whom more shall follow (the Lord willing)
hereafter. After this Innocent, next succeeded Pope Honorius the
Third, who, writing to young King Henry in a special letter,
exhorteth him to the love of virtue, and to the fear of God, namely,
to be circumspect with what familiars and resort he acquainted
himself; but principally above all otherthings he admonisheth him to
reverence the church, which is the spouse of Christ, and to honour
the ministers thereof, in whom Christ himself (saith he) is both
honoured and despised. And this seemeth the chiefest article of that
his writing to him.

Of this Pope Honorius, Abbot Urspergensis (who lived in the same
time) reporteth a strange wonder, more strange peradventure than
credible; which is this: Honorius being priest in Rome, (whose name
was then Centius,) and procurator to Jacinth, a cardinal; so it
befell, that his master sent him abroad about Rome, to borrow and
procure money for him against his journey into Spain; for Pope
Clement then intended to send this Jacinth his legate into Spain. As
this Centius was walking by himself all sad and solicitous to speed
his masters message, there cometh to him a certain aged and reverend
father, and asketh him what cause he had to walk so heavy and
careful. To whom he answered again, and signified the occasion of his
business that then he had to do. Then the old father said to him, Go,
and return home again, for thy master, saith he, shall not at this
time go to Spain. How so, quoth the other; how is that true? As true,
saith he, as it is certain that the pope shall die, and thy said 
master shall be pope after him. Centius, thinking that to be
unlikely, said he could not believe that to be true. To whom the
other inferreth again, So know this (said he) to be as certain as it
is true that the city of Jerusalem this day is taken of the Saracens,
and shall not be recovered again from them before the time of thy
papacy. And thus speaking (saith Urspergensis) he vanished suddenly
away. All which (saith the said author) came afterwards to pass, and
were testified of the same Honorius, being pope afterward, in his
public sermons at Rome. All which I grant may be, and yet
notwithstanding this fabulous narration may be a piece of the popes
old practices, subtlely invented to drive men forth to Jerusalem to
fight. Again, after Honorius (when he had governed ten years)
followed Gregory the Ninth, which two popes were in the time of this
King Henry the Third, and of Frederic the emperor; of whom we mind
(Christ willing) further to touch, after that we shall have
prosecuted more concerning the history of King Henry and matters of
England.

After that, it so pleased the merciful providence of Almighty God to
work this great mercy upon the stock of King John, (which,
notwithstanding the unkind prelates with their false prophets had
declared before, that never any of them should succeed in the throne
after that king,) and also unto the whole commonwealth of the realm,
in delivering them from the dangerous service of Ludovic and the
foresaid Frenchmen. After their departure, the next year following,
A.D. 1218, which was the third of this king's reign, the archbishop
S. Langton, and the bishops, earls, and barons, resorted to London
unto the king at Michaelmas next following, and there held a great
parliament, wherein were confirmed and granted by the king all the
franchises which were made and given by King John his father at
Runnemede, and them he confirmed and ratified by his charter; which
long time after (saith mine author) unto his days did continue, and
were holden in England. For the which cause, by the nobles and
commons was given and granted again unto the king two shillings for
every plough land through England. And Hubert Burgh was made chief
justice of England, of whose troubles more is to be said hereafter.
And this was the third year of King Henry, and the fiftieth year
after the death of Thomas Becket: wherefore the said Becket, the same
year next following, was taken up and shrined for a new saint made of
an old rebel. Thither came such resort of people of England and of
France, that the country of Kent was not suffi cient to sustain them.
About the same time Isabella the kings mother was married to the earl
of March. And William, the good earl marshal, died, which was the
governor of the king and the realm, not without great lamentation of
the people of England. Then was the king committed to the government
of Peter, bishop of Winchester. This noble earl left behind him five
sons, and five daughters.

The year next ensuing, A.D. 1219, it was ordained and proclaimed
through all the land, that all aliens and foreigners should depart
the realm, and not return to the same again, only such excepted as
used traffic or trade of merchandise under the kings safe conduct.
This proclamation was thought chiefly to be set forth for this cause,
to send out of the land Foukes de Brent, Philip de Marks, Egelardus
de Ciconia, William Earl Albermarle, Robert de Veteriponte, Brihenne
de Insula, Hugo de Bailluell, Roger de Gaugi, with divers other
strangers more, which kept castles and holds of the king's against
his will. Of these the forenamed Foukes was the principal, who
fortified and held the castle of Bedford, which he had by the gift of
King John, with might and strength against the king and his power,
near the space of three months. Moreover, he went about to apprehend
the king's justices at Dunstable; but they, being warned thereof,
escaped all, except Henry Braybroke, whom he imprisoned in the said
castle. The king hearing thereof, and consulting with his clergy and
nobles, made his power against the same. Which after long siege and
some slaughter at length he obtained, and hanged almost all that were
within, to the number of ninety and seven, which was, as Paris
writeth, about the seventh or eighth year of his reign. Foukes at the
same time was in Wales; who, hearing of the taking of the castle,
conveyed himself to the church of Coventry. At length, submitting
himself to the king's mercy, upon consideration of his service done
before to the king's father, he was committed to the custody of
Eustace, bishop of London; and afterwards, being deprived of all his
goods, possessions, and tenements within the realm, was forced to
perpetual banishment, never to return to England again.

Here, by the way, I find it noted in Paris, that after this foresaid
Foukes had spoiled and razed the church of St. Paul in Bedford, for
the building up of his castle, the abbess of Helvestue, hearing
thereof, caused the sword to be taken from the image of St. Paul
standing in the church, so long as Foukes remained unpunished.
Afterward, hearing him to be committed to the custody of St. Paul in
London, she caused the sword to be put into the hands of the image
again.

About this year the young king was crowned the second time at
Westminster, about which time began the new building of our Lady
church at Westminster. Shortly after Gualo the legate was called home
again to Rome. For the holy father, being sick of a spiritual dropsy,
thought this Gualo (having so large occupying in England) to be able
somewhat to cure his disease. And so the legate returned with all his
bags well stuffed, leaving Pandulph behind him to supply that
bailiwick of his great grandfather the pope.

The life and acts of Pope Innocent the Third are partly described
before, how he intruded Stephen Langton against the king's will into
the archbishopric of Canterbury, stirring up also sixty and four
monks of the same church of Canterbury privily to work against the
king. Moreover, how he did excommunicate the said king as a public
enemy of the church, so long as the said king withstood his
tyrannical doings, putting him and his whole kingdom under
interdiction for the space of five years and three months, and at
length be deposed and deprived him from his sceptre, keeping it in
his own hands for five days. How be absolved his subjects from their
due obedience and subjection unto him. How he gave away his kingdoms
and possessions to Louis the French king's son, commanding the said
Louis to spoil him both of lands and life. Whereupon the king, being
forsaken of his nobles, prelates, and commons, was forced against his
will to submit himself, and sware obedience unto the pope, paying
unto him a yearly tribute of one thousand marks by year, for
receiving his kingdom again, whereby both be and his successors after
him were vassals afterwards unto the pope. These were the apostolical
acts of this holy vicar in the realm of England. Moreover, he
condemned Almeric, a worthy learned man and a bishop, for a heretic,
for teaching and holding against images. Also he condemned the
doctrine of Joachim Abbas (whom we spake of before) for heretical.
This pope brought first into the church the paying of private tithes.
He ordained the receiving once a year at Easter. Unto the papal
decretals he added the decree, Omnes utriusque sexus, &c. Also the
reservation of the sacrament, and the going with the bell and light
before the sacrament, was by him appointed. In the said Council of
Lateran he also ordained that the canon of the mass should be
received with equal authority as though it had proceeded from the
apostles themselves. He brought in transubstantiation.

Item, the said Innocent the Third ordained that none should marry in
the third degree, but only in the fourth degree, and so under.

The said pope stirred up Otho against Philip the emperor, because the 
said Philip was elected emperor against his will; upon the occasion
whereof followed much war and slaughter in Germany. And afterward
against the said Otho, whom he had made emperor, he set up Frederic,
king of Sicily, and caused the archbishop of Mayence to pronounce him
excommunicate in all his titles, and to be deposed of his empire. For
the which cause the princes of Germany did invade his bishopric,
spoiling and burning his possessions. The cause why the pope so did
accurse and depose him was, that the said Otho did take and occupy
cities; towns, and castles, which the pope said appertained to him.

Item, the said pope ordained, that if any princes offended one
another, the correction should appertain unto the pope. In the fourth
Council of Lateran were archbishops and primates sixty-one, bishops
four hundred, abbots twelve, priors and conventuals eight hundred,
besides other ambassadors, legates, doctors, and lawyers an
innumerable sort, &c.

In the history of Hermanus Mutius, we read how, in the year of our
Lord 1212, in this pope's time divers noblemen, and others in the
country of Alsace, contrary to the tradition of the Romish popes, did
hold that every day was free for eating of flesh, so it be done
soberly. Also that they did wickedly, who restrained priests and
ministers from their lawful wives, for the which cause, (as is in the
foresaid author,) by this pope Innocent the Third, and his bishops, a
hundred of them in one day were burned and martyred.

Some other history (as Nauclerus) recordeth also, that at the same
time many were in the city of Milan of the said doctrine, who used to
send collects unto the foresaid saints of Alsace.

In the chronicle of Walter Hemingford, otherwise called Gisburnensis,
it is recorded that in the days of this King John and Pope Innocent
began the two sects or orders of friars, one called the Preachers'
order, or Black Friars of St. Dominic; the other called the Minorites
of St. Francis. The Preachers of the Black Friars' order began of one
Dominic, a Spaniard, about the parts of Tholouse, who after he had
laboured ten years in preaching against the Albigenses, and such
others as did bold against the Church of Rome, afterward, coming up
to the Council of Lateran with Fulco, bishop of Tholouse, desired of
the foresaid Innocent the Third to have his order of Preaching Friars
confirmed, which the pope a great while refused to grant. At length
he had a dream. that the Church of Lateran was ready to fall. Which
when he beheld, fearing and much sorrowing thereat, cometh in this
Dominic, who with his shoulders underpropped the church, and so
preserved the building thereof from falling, &c. And right well this
dream may seem verified, for the friars have been always the chief
pillars and upholders of the pope's church. Upon this the pope
(waking out of his dream) called Dominic to him, and granted his
petition; and so came up this wolfish order of the Dominics. I call
it wolfish, for his mother, when she was great with this Dominic,
dreamed that she had in her womb a wolf, which had a burning torch in
his mouth. The which dream the preachers of that order do greatly
advance, and expound to their order's glory as well as they can.
Nevertheless, howsoever they expound it, they can make a wolf but a
wolf, and this a wolfish order. The rule which they follow seemeth to
be taken out of St. Augustine, as who should say that Christ's rule
were not enough to make a Christian man. Their profession standeth
upon three principal points, as thus described: Having charity,
holding humility, and possessing wilful poverty. Their habit and
clothing is black.

The order of the Minors or Minorite friars descended from one
Francis, an Italian, of the city of Assisium. This Assisian ass, who
I suppose was some simple and rude idiot, hearing upon a time how
Christ sent forth his disciples to preach, thought to imitate the
same in himself and his disciples, and so left off his shoes. He had
but one coat, and that of coarse cloth. Instead of a latchet to his
shoe, and of a girdle, he took about him a hempen cord, and so he
apparelled his disciples, teaching them to fulfil (for so he
speaketh) the perfection of the gospel, to apprehend poverty, and to
walk in the way of holy simplicity. He left in writing, to his
disciples and followers, his rule, which he called, The rule of the
gospel. As though the gospel of Christ were not a sufficient rule to
all Christian men, but it must take his perfection of frantic
Francis. And yet for all that great presumption of this Francis, and
notwithstanding this his rule, sounding to the derogation of Christ's
gospel, he was confirmed by this Pope Innocent. Yes, and such fools
this Francis found abroad, that not only he had followers of his
doltish religion, (both of the nobles and unnobles of Rome,) but also
some there were which builded mansions for him and his friars. This
Francis, as he was superstitious in casting all things from him, as
his girdle, girding a cord about him; so in outward chastising of
himself, so strait he was to his flesh, (leaving the ordinary remedy
appointed by God,) that in winter season he covered his body with ice
and snow. He called poverty his lady, he kept nothing overnight. So
desirous he was of martyrdom, that he went to Syria to Saladin, who
received him honourably. Whereby it may he thought, that (surely) he
told not the truth, as St. John Baptist did in Herod's house. For
truth is seldom welcome in courts and in the world. But it is hard to
make a martyr of him who is no true confessor. I will here pass over
the fable, how Christ and his saints did mark him with five wounds.
These Franciscan, or begging friars, although they were all under one
rule and clothing of St. Francis, yet they be divided into many sects
and orders; some go on treen shoes or pattens; some, barefooted;
some, regular Franciscans, or Observants; some, Minors, or Minorites;
others be called Minimi; others, of the Gospel; others, De Caputio.
They all differ in many things, but accord in superstition and
hypocrisy. And forsomuch as we have here entered into the matter of
these two orders of friars, by the occasion hereof I thought a little 
by the way to digress from our story, in reciting the whole catalogue
or rabblement of monks, friars, and nuns of all sects, rules, and
orders, set up and confirmed bythe pope. The names of whom here in
order of the alphabet follow.

The rabblement of religious orders.
Augustinians, the first order.

Ambrosians, two sorts,
490
Antony's heremites,
324
Austin's heremites,
498
Austin's Observants,
490
Armenians' sect.

Ammonites and Moabites.

Basilius's order,
384
Benet's order,
524
Bernardus's order,
1120
Barefooted Friars,
1222
Bridget's order.
1370
Beghearts, or White Spirits.
1399
Brethren of Jerusalem.
1103
Brethren of St. John De Civitate,
Black Friars,
1220
Brethren of wilful poverty.

Cluniacensis's order,
913
Canons of St. Augustine,
1080
Charterhouse order,
1086
Cisterciensis order,
1098
Cross-bearers, or Crossed Friars,
1216
Carmelites. or White Friars,
1212
Clare's order,
1225
Celestine's order. 1297

Camaldulensis order,
950
Cross-starred brethren.

Constantinopolitanish order.

Cross-bearers.

Chapter monks.

Dutch order.
l216
Dominic Black Friars.
1220
Franciscans.
1224
Grandmontensis order,
1076
Gregorian order,
594
George's order,
1417
Giilielmites,
1246
Genindinensis order.

Galilei, or Galilean.

Heremites.

Helen's brethren, Humiliati,
1166
Hospital brethren.

Holy Ghost order.

Jerome's orders, two sorts,
1412
John's heremites.

Justin's order,
1432
John's order, Joannites
otherwise Knights of Rhodes
380
1308
Injesuati,
1365
Jerome's heremites.
490
Joseph's order.

Jacobites' sect.

James's brethren order.

James's brethren with the sword.

Indians' order.

Katharine of Sene's order,
1455
Keiedmonks, Knights of Rhodes.

Lazarites of Mary Magdalen's our
Lady's brethren,
1034
Lords of Hungary.

Minorites, which be divided into.
 Conventuals.
 Observants.
 Reformat.
 Collectan.
 De Caputio.
 De Evangelio.
 Amedes.
 Clarini and others.

Minors, or Minorites,
1224
Mary's servants,
1304
Monks of Mount Olivet.
1046
Marovinies sect.

Monorites' sect.

Monachi and Monachæ.

Morbonei and Meresti.

Menelaish and Jasonish sect.

New canons of St. Austin
1430
Nestorini.

Naiheart brethren.

New order of our Lady.

Nazaræi.

Paul's heremites,
345
Præmonstratensis order,
1119
Prachers' order, or Black Friars.

Peter the Apostle's order,
1409
Purgatory brethren.

Rechabites.

Sarrabites.

Sambonites,
1199
Scourgers, the first sect,
1266
Soldiers of Jesus Christ,
1323
Scopenites, or St. Salvator's
order,
1367
Specularii,or the Glass order.

Sepulchre's order.

Sheere order.

Swerd's order.

Starred monks.

Starred friars.

Sclavonie order.

Scourgers, the second sect, called
Ninevites.

Stool brethren.

Scotland brethren order.

Sicarli.

St. Sophia's order.

Templar Lords,
1110
Templar Knights,
1120
The Vale of Josaphat's order.

Vallis Umbrosæ,
1400
Wentzelaus's order.

Wilhelmer order.

White Monks of Mount Olivet.
1406
Zelotes' order.



Thus hast thou, if thou please, gentle reader, to know what orders
and what sects of religion have been set up by the pope, the
catalogue and number of them all, so far as we could search them out,
not only in books printed of late in Germany, namely, by the reverend
father Martin Luther; but also conferred with another English book
which came to our hands, containing the same like notes of ancient
antiquity, the number of which rabblement of religious persons came
to 101. Now as I have reckoned up the names and varieties of these
prodigious sects, it cometh to mind consequently to infer to the
prophecy of Hildegard, as well against the whole rout of Romish
prelates, and the fall of that church, as especially against the
begging friars and such other unprofitable bellies of the church.
This Hildegard is bolden of the papists themselves to be a great
prophetess; whose prophecy proceedeth in this manner, first against
the priests and prelates of the Romish church, as followeth.

The prophecy of Hildegard of the ruin of Rome, and against the
begging friars.

Hildegard, a nun and (as many judged) a prophetess, lived in the year
1146. In her prophecies she doth most grievously reprehend, not only
the wicked and abominable life of the spiritual papists, but also the
contempt of the ecclesiastical office, and also the horrible
destruction of the Church of Rome. In a certain place she hath these
words:

"And now is the law neglected among the spiritual people, which
neglect to teach and to do good things; the master likewise and the
prelates do sleep, despising justice, and laying it aside. In a
certain vision the church appeared to her in the shape of a woman,
complaining that the priests had bewrayed her face with dust, and
rent her coat, &c., and that they did not shine over the people,
either in doctrine, either in example of life; but rather
contrariwise, that they have driven the innocent lamb from them, She
said, moreover, that all ecclesiastical order did every day become
worse and worse, and that priests did not teach but destroy the law
of God; and for these horrible crimes and impieties she threateneth
and prophesieth unto them God's most heavy wrath and displeasure, and
doleful punishments." There is no cause why the spiritual papists
should flatter themselves upon this, that she promised again to the
ministers of the church those good things to follow, like as Johannes
de Rupescissa doth, and other such-like prophets; for they say it
will come to pass, that they must repent before the times be amended.
By which thing undoubtedly they mean the godly ministers in the
Reformed churches, which for the most part were of the spiritual
number, and yet did forsake the dishonest life and those wicked
idolatries. Now, whereas the priests and monks, that is, the whole
rabble and spiritualty, do account Hildegard for a true prophetess,
they ought to consider that by her they are more severely accused,
not as by a woman, but as by God himself. And, I pray you, what
abomination, impiety, and idolatry hath not been committed since that
time by the spiritualty? I will note here a certain prophecy of hers,
taken out of the common places of Henry Token, because we see it
manifestly fulfilled in our time. She prophesieth of the reformation
of religion, and saith that it shall be most godly.

"Then shall the crown of apostolical honour he divided, because there
shall be found no religion among the apostolical order, and for that
cause shall they despise the dignity of that name, and shall set over
them other men and other archbishops. Insomuch that the apostolic see
of that time (by the diminution of his honour) shall scarce have
Rome, and a few other countries thereabout, under his crown. And
these things shall partly come to pass by incursion of wars, and
partly also by a common counsel and consent of the spiritual and
secular persons. Then shall justice flourish, so that in those days
men shall honestly apply themselves to the ancient customs and
discipline of ancient men, and shall observe them as ancient men did.

About the same time that the Franciscans and Dominic friars began
(which are above mentioned) sprang up also the Cross-bearers, or
Crutched Friars, taking their original and occasion of Innocent the
Third, which Innocent raised up an army (signed with a cross on their
breast) to fight against the Albigenses, whom the pope and his sect
accounted for heretics about the parts of Tholouse. What these
Albigenses were it cannot be well gathered by the old popish
histories; for if there were any that did hold, teach, or maintain
against the pope or his papal pride, or withstand and gainsay his
beggarly traditions, rites, and religions, &c., the historians of
that time (for the most part in writing of them) do so deprave and
misreport them, suppressing the truth of their articles, that they
make them and paint them to be worse than Turks and infidels. And
that, as I suppose, caused Matthew Paris, and others of that sort, to
write so of them as they did: otherwise it is to be thought (and so I
find in some records) that the opinions of the said Albigenses were
sound enough, holding and professing nothing else but only against
the wanton wealth, pride, and tyranny of the prelates, denying the
pope's authority to have ground of the Scriptures; neither could they
away with their ceremonies and traditions, as images, pardons,
purgatory of the Romish Church, calling them (as some say)
blasphemous occupyings, &c. Of these Albigenses were slain at times
and burned a great multitude, by the means of the pope and Simon
Ecclesiasticus, with others more. It seemeth that these Albigenses
were chiefly abhorred of the pope, because they set up a contrary
pope against him about the coasts of Bugarorum; for the which cause
the bishop called Portinensis, being the pope's legate in those
quarters, wrote to the archbishop of Rome and other bishops.

As Henry this king succeeded King John his father, so after Innocent
the pope came Honorius the Third, then Gregory the Ninth, &c. And
after Otho the emperor (whom the pope had once set up, and after
deprived again) succeeded Frederic the Second, as is partly before
touched. In the days of these kings, popes, and emperors, it were too
long to recite all that happened in England, but especially in
Germany, betwixt Pope Honorius, Grcgorius, and Frederic the emperor;
the horrible tragedy whereof were enough to fill a whole book by
itself. But yet we mean (God willing) somewhat to touch concerning
these ecclesiastical matters, first beginning with this realm of
England.

After the kingdom of England had been subjected by King John, (as
hath been said,) and made tributary to the pope and the Romish
Church, it is incredible how the unsatiable avarice and greediness of
the Romans did oppress and wring the commons and all estates and
degrees of the realm, especially beneficed men, and such as had any
thing of the church. Who, what for their domestical charges within
the realm, what for the pope, what for the legates, what for
contributing to the Holy Land, what for relaxations, and other subtle
sleights to get away their money, were brought into such slavery,
captivity, and penury, that whereas the king neither durst nor might
remedy their exclamations by himself; yet, notwithstanding, by his
advice, Simon Montfort, and the earl of Leicester, with other
noblemen, (not forgetting what great grievances and distresses the
realm was brought into by the Romans,) thought to work some way how
to bridle and restrain the insatiable ravening of these greedy
wolves. Wherefore they devised their letter, giving strait
commandment to the religious men, and to such as had their churches
to farm, that henceforth they should not answer the Romans on account
of such farms and rents any more, but should pay the said farms or
rents unto their own proctors appointed for the same purpose, as by
their writings sent abroad to bishops or chapters, and other
ecclesiastical houses. may appear, in this form and effect as
followeth.

A complaint of the nobles of England against the intolerable
covetousness of the pope and prelates of Rome.

"To such and such a bishop, and such a chapter, all the university
and company of them, that had rather die than to be confounded of the
Romans, wisheth health. How the Romans and their legates have
hitherto behaved themselves toward you, and other ecclesiastical
persons of this realm of England, it is not unknown to your
discretions, in disposing and giving away the benefices of the realm
after their own lust, to the intolerable prejudice and grievance both
of you and all other Englishmen. For whereas the collation of
benefices should and doth properly belong to you and other your
fellow bishops, (ecclesiastical persons,) they, thundering against
you the sentence of excommunication, ordain that you should not
bestow them upon any person of this realm, until in every diocess and
cathedral church within the realm five Romans (such as the pope shall
name) be provided for, to the value of every man a hundred pounds by
year. Besides these, many other grievances the said Romanists do
inflict and infer, both to the laity and nobles of the realm, for the
patronages and alms bestowed by them and their ancestors, for the
sustentation of the poor of the realm, and also to the clergy and
ecclesiastical persons of the realm touching their livings and
benefices. And yet the said Romanists, not contented with the
premises, do also take from the clergy of this realm the beneflces
which they have, to bestow them on men of their own country, &c.

Wherefore, we, considering the rigorous austerity of these foresaid
Romanists, which, once coming in but as strangers hither, now take
upon them not only to judge, but also to condemn us, laying upon us
insupportable burdens, whereunto they will not put to one of their
own fingers to move, and laying our heads together upon a general and
full advice had among ourselves concerning the same, have thought
good (although very late) to withstand them, rather than to be
subject to their intolerable oppressions, and greater slavery more
hereafter to be looked for. For the which cause we straitly charge
and command you (as your friends going about to deliver you. the
church, the king, and the kingdom from that miserable yoke of
servitude) that you do not intermeddle or take any part concerning
such exactions or rents to be required or given to the said Romans.
Letting you to understand for truth, that in case you shall (which
God forbid) be found culpable herein, not only your goods and
possessions shall be in danger of burning, but you also in your
persons shall incur the same peril and punishment as shall the said
Romish oppressors themselves.

Thus fare ye well."

Thus much I thought here to insert and notice concerning this matter,
for that not only the foul and avaricious greediness of the Romish
Church might the more evidently unto all Englishmen appear: but that
they may learn by this example how worthy they be so to be served and
plagued with their own rod, which before would take no part with
their natural king against foreign power, of which now they are
scourged.

To make the story more plain, in the reign of this Henry the Third
(who succeeding, as is said, after King John, his father, reigned six
and fifty years) came divers legates from Rome to England. First
Cardinal Otho, sent from the pope with letters to the king, like as
other letters also were sent to other places, for exactions of money.

The king opening the letters, and perceiving the contents, answered,
that he alone could say nothing in the matter, which concerned all
the clergy and commons of the whole realm. Not long after a council
was called at Westminster, where the letters being opened, the form
was this: We require to be given unto us, first, of all cathedral
churches two prebends, one for the bishop's part, the other for the
chapter; and likewise of monasteries where be divers portions, one
for the abbot, another for the convent; of the convent so much as
appertaineth to one monk, the portion of the goods being
proportionally divided; of the abbot likewise as much. The cause why
he required these prebends was this: It hath been (saith he) an old
slander, and a great complaint against the Church of Rome, and it
hath been charged with insatiable covetousness, which, as ye know, is
the root of all mischief, and all by reason that causes be wont
commonly not to be handled nor to proceed in the Church of Rome
without great gifts and expense of money. Whereof, seeing the poverty
of the church is the cause, and the only reason why it is so
slandered and evil spoken of, it is therefore convenient that you (as
natural children) should succour your mother. For unless we should
receive of you and of other good men as you are, we should then lack
necessaries for our life, which were a great dishonour to our
dignity, &c.

When those petitions and causes of the legate were propounded in the
foresaid assembly at Westminster on the pope's behalf, (the bishops
and prelates of the realm being present,) answer was made by the
mouth of Master John Bedford on this wise: That the matter there
propounded by the lord legate in especial concerned the king of
England, but in general it touched all the archbishops with their
suffragans, the bishops, and all the prelates of the realm.
Wherefore, seeing both the king by reason of his sickness was absent,
and the archbishop of Canterbury with divers other bishops also were
not there, therefore in the absence of them they had nothing to say
in the matter, neither could they so do without prejudice of them
which were lacking. And so the assembly for that time brake up.

Not long after, the said Otho, cardinal, coming again from Rome,
indicted another council at London, and caused all prelates,
archbishops, bishops, abbots. priors, and other of the clergy to be
warned unto the same council, to be had in the church of St. Paul's
at London about the feast of St. Martin. The pretence of which
council was for redress of matters concerning benefices and religion;
but the chief and principal was to hunt for money; for putting them
in fear and in hope, some to lose, some to obtain, spiritual
promotions at his hand, be thought gain would rise thereby, and so it
did. For in the mean time divers precious rewards were offered him,
in palfreys. in rich plate and jewels, in costly and sumptuous
garments so richly furred, in coin, in victuals, and such-like things
of value well worthy of acceptation. Wherein one endeavoured to go
beyond another in munificence, not considering, by means of the
servility wherewith they were oppressed of those popish shavelings
and shameless shifters, that all was mere pillage and extortion.
Insomuch that only the bishop of Winchester, (as the story
reporteth,) hearing that he would winter at London, sent him fifty
fat oxen, a hundred coomb of pure wheat, eight tun of chosen wine,
toward his house-keeping. Likewise other bisbops also for their part
offered unto the cardinal's box after their ability.

The time of the council drawing nigh, the cardinal commanded at the
west end of Paul's church a high and solemn throne to be prepared,
rising up with a glorious scaffold upon mighty and substantial stages
I strongly builded, and of great height. Thus against the day
assigned came the said archbishops, bishops, abbots, and other of the
prelacy, both far and near throughout all England, wearied and vexed
with the winter's journey, bringing their letters procuratory. Who
being together assembled, the cardinal beginneth his sermon. But
before we come to the sermon, there happened a great discord between
the two archbishops of Canterbury and York, for sitting at the right
hand and left hand of the glorious cardinal; for the which the one
appealed against the other. The cardinal, to pacify the strife
between them both, so that he would not derogate from either of them,
brought forth a certain bull of the pope; in the midst of which bull
was pictured the figure of the cross. On the right side of the cross
stood the image of St. Paul, and on the left side St. Peter. Lo,
saith the cardinal, (holding open the bull with the cross. here you
see St. Peter on the left hand of the cross,) and St. Paul on the
right side, and yet is there between these two no contention, for
both are of equal glory. And yet St. Peter, for the prerogative of
his keys, and for the pre-eminence of his apostleship and cathedral
dignity, seemeth most worthy to be placed on the right side. But yet
because St. Paul believed on Christ when he saw him not, therefore
hath he the right hand of the cross; for blessed be they (saith
Christ) which believe and see not, &c. And from that time forth the 
archbishop of Canterbury enjoyed the right hand, and the archbishop
of York the left. Wherein yet this cardinal is more to be commended
than the other cardinal Hugo mentioned a little before, which in the
like contention between these archbishops ran away.

Thus, the controversy ceased and composed between these two, Otho the
cardinal, sitting aloft between these two archbishops, beginneth his
sermon, taking this theme of the prophet: In the midst of the seat,
and in the circuit about the seat, were four beasts full of eyes
before and behind, &c. Upon this theme the cardinal proceeded in his
sermon, sitting like a god in the midst. He compared them about him
to the four beasts about the seat, declaring how they ought to have
eyes both before and behind; that is, that they must be provident in
disposing of secular things, and circumspect in spiritual matters,
continuing and joining wisely things past with things to come; and
this was the greatest effect of his clerkly sermon. That done, he
giveth forth certain statutes for ordering of churches, as for the
dedication of temples, for seven sacraments, for giving of orders,
for framing of benefices, collations and resignations of benefices
and vicarages, priests' apparel, and single life, for eating of flesh
in religious houses, or archdeacons, bishops, proctors, and such
other like matters. But the chiefest intent of all his proceeding was
this, that they should be vigilant, provident, and circumspect, with
all their eyes (both before and behind) to fill the pope's pouch, as
appeared not only by this, but all their other travails besides.
Insomuch that the king, dreading the displeasure of his commons for
the doings of the legate, willed him to repair home to Rome again,
but yet could not so be rid of him; for he, receiving new
commandments from the pope, applied his harvest, still gleaning and
raking whatsoever he might scrape.

And, moreover, note again the wicked and cursed trains of these
Romish rakehells, who, to pick simple men's purses. first send out
their friars and preachers to stir up in all places and countries men
to go fight against the Turks; whom when they have once bound with a
vow, and signed them with the cross, then send they their bulls to
release them, both of their labour and their vow, for money.

The cause why the pope was so greedy and needy of money was this;
because he had mortal hatred, and waged continual battle the same
time, against the good emperor Frederic the Second, who had to wife
King John's daughter, and sister to King Henry the Third, whose name
was Isabel, And therefore, because the pope's war could not be
sustained withont charges, that made the pope the more importunate to
take up money in all places. but especially in England. Insomuch that
he shamed not to require the fifth part of every ecclesiastical man's
living, as Parisiensis writeth. And not only that, but also the said
Pope Gregory (conventing with the citizens of Rome) so agreed with
them, that if they would join with him in vanquishing the foresaid
Frederic, he would (and so did) grant unto them, that all the
benefices in England which were or should be vacant, namely,
pertaining to religious houses, should be bestowed at their own will
and commandment to their children and kinsfolks. The pope sent in
commandment to the archbishop of Canterbury and four other bishops.
that provision should be made for three hundred Romans in the
chiefest and best benefices in all England at the next voidance; so
that the foresaid archbishop and bishops should be suspended in the
mean time from all collation or gift of benefices, until these
foresaid three hundred were provided for. Whereupon the archbishop
the same time, seeing the unreasonable oppression of the Church of
England, left the realm and went into France.

Again, mark another as much or more easy sleight of the pope in
procuring money. He sent one Petrus Rubeus the same time with a new
device, which was this: not to work any thing openly, but privily to
go betwixt bishop and bishop, abbot and abbot, &c., telling in their
ears, Such a bishop, such an abbot, hath given so much and so much
unto the pope's Holiness, trusting that you also will not be behind
for your part, &c. By the means whereof it is incredible to think
what a mass of money was made out of the realm unto the pope.

At length the foresaid bishops, abbots, and archdeacons, feeling
their own smart, came to the king (whose father before they did
resist) with their humble suit, lamentably complaining of the
unmeasurable exactions of the pope, and especially against Petrus
Rubeus and his fellow, Otto the legate; desiring the king, that
seeing the matter toucheth not themselves alone, but the whole
church, and seeing the valuation of churches was known better to
their archdeacons than to themselves, therefore there might be a
general calling and talk had in the matter. In the octaves of St.
John the Baptist, the day and place was assigned where they should
talk; at which day and place the prelates of England, conventing
together, durst not give any direct denial of that contribution, but
after a modest sort did insinuate certain exceptions against the
same.

1. First they say, that forsomuch as the contrihution is demanded to
war against him, who was joined in matrimony with their prince, they
were not bound so to do.

2. Secondly, for that the said contribution tended to the shedding of
Christian blood; for so the form of the bill pretended, to fight
against the emperor.

3. Thirdly, because it was against the liberty of the church; for so
it is in the bill, that they that would not should be excommunicate.

4. Fourthly, because that when of late they gave the tenth part of
their goods, it was with this protestation, that they should
contribute to the pope no more hereafter.

5. Item, because they had contributed before, if they should now
contrihute again, it were to be feared lest an action twice done
should grow into a custom, as is in the law.

6. Item, forsomuch as they shall have causes continually to seek to
Rome through the emperor's land, it were to be feared lest the said
emperor by the way would work their annoyance.

7. Item, because the king hath many enemies abroad, and for his wars
hath need of much money at home, it is not convenient that the goods
of the realm should be alienated out of the realm.

8. Item, because that could not be done without prejudice to the
patrons of their churches, not knowing whether their patrons did or
would agree unto the same.

9. Lastly, because they hear say that the general state of the church
is in danger, for the which they understand there shall be shortly a
general council, wherein such matters shall be determined; and
therefore if they should contribute now, it should be to the
hinderance and damage of the church.

The legate and his fellow hearing these allegations, seeing their own
confusion, were the less importunate.

Not long after this followed a general council at Lyons, called by
Pope Innocentius the Fourth, in the which council the English nation
did exhibit certain articles of their grievances not unworthy to be
known.

1. The kingdom of England is grieved that the pope, being not
contented with his Peter pence, rcquireth and extorteth from the
clergy great exactions, (and more is like,) both without the consent
of the king, and against the customs of the realm.

2. Item, the church and kingdom of England is grieved, that the
patrons of the same cannot present, as they were wont, into their
churches for the pope's letters; but the churches are given to
Romans, which know neither the realm nor the tongue thereof, both to
the great peril of souls and robbing away the money out of the realm.

3. Item, it is grieved, for that the pope promising by the tenor of
his letters that, in requiring of pensions and provisions in the
realm of England, he would require but only twelve benefices, now,
contrary to the tenor thereof, many more benefices and provisions are
bestowed away by him.

4. Item, the realm is grieved and complaineth, that in the benefices
in England one Italian succeedeth another, the Englishmen being not
only excluded, but also compelled for the determining of their
matters to seek to Rome, contrary both to the customs of the realm,
and also to the privileges granted by the pope's predecessors to the
king and kingdom of England.

.5. The fifth grievance is, for the oft recourse of that infamous
legate, by whom both faith and fidelity. the ancient customs of the
realm. the authority of old grants, statutes, laws, and privileges,
are imbeciled and abrogate, whereby an infinite number in England be
grievously afflicted and oppressed.

6. The said realm is also grieved in general tallages, collections,
and assizes, made without the king's consent, the appellation and
contradiction of the king's proctors to the contrary notwithstanding.

7. Seventhly, the foresaid realm complaineth and is grieved, that, in
the benefices given to Italians, neither the old ordinances, nor
relief of the poor, nor hospitality, nor any preaching of God's word,
nor care of men's souls, nor service in the church, nor yet the walls
of the churches, be kept up and maintained, as the manner and custom
of the same realm requireth. Over and above these foresaid
grievances, there came moreover from the pope other fresh letters,
charging and commanding the prelates of England to find of their
proper costs and charges for one whole year, some ten armed soldiers,
some five, some fifteen, to be ready at the pope's commandment there
where be should appoint.

After these and other grievances and enormities of Rome, the states
of England consulting together direct their letters to the pope, for
reformation thereof; first the abbots and priors, then the bishops
and suffragans, after the nobles and barons, last of all the king
himself. But as the proverb is, Venter non habet aures; so the pope's
purse had no ears to hear. And as our common saying goeth, As good
never a whit as never the better; so went it with the pope, who not
long after the same sent for new tallages and exactions to be
collected. Which thing, when it came to the king's ear, he, being
moved and disturbed vehemently withal, writeth in this wise to the
bishops, severally to every one in his diocess.

"Henry the Third, by the grace of God, to the reverend in Christ
bishop of N. Whereas we have heretofore written unto you once, twice,
thrice, as well by our privy seals, as also by our letters patents,
that you should not exact or collect, for the pope's behalf, any
tallage or other help of our subjects, either of the clergy or of the
laity, for that no such tallage nor help either can or is used to be
exacted in our realm without the great prejudice of our princely
dignity, which we neither will nor can suffer or sustain; yet you,
contemning and vilipending our commandment, and contrary to the
provision made in our last council at London, (granted and agreed
upon by our prelates, earls, and barons,) have that notwithstanding
proceeded in collecting the said your taxes and tallages. Whereupon
we do greatly marvel and are moved, (especially seeing you are not
ashamed to do contrary unto your own decrees,) whereas you and other
prelates in the said council in this did all agree and grant, that no
such exactions should be hereafter, until the return of our and your
ambassadors from the court of Rome, sent thither purposely of us, and
in the name of the whole realm for the same, to provide redress
against those oppressions. Wherefore we straitly will and command
you, that from henceforth you do not proceed any more in collecting
and exacting such tallages or helps, as you will enjoy our favour and
such possessions of yours as within this our kingdom you have and
hold. And if you have already procured or gathered any such thing,
yet that you suffer not the same to be transported out of our realm,
but cause it to be kept in safe custody till the return of the said
ambassadors, under the pain of our displeasure in doing of the
contrary, and alsoof provoking us to extend our hand upon your
possessions further than you will think or believe. Moreover, willing
and charging you that you participate and make common this our
inhibition, with your archdeacons and officials, which we here have
set forth for the liberties of the clergy and of the people, as
knoweth God," &c.

At length the ambassadors which were at Rome came home about the
latter end of December, bringing word that the pope, hearing what was
done in the Council of Winchester and of the king. was greatly
displeased with him and the realm. Whereupon, when the ambassadors
began to speak in the king's behalf; from that time they were half
counted for schismatics, and could no more be heard in the court of
Rome. The king hearing this was marvellously incensed therewith,
commanding by general proclamation through all his realm, that no man
should hereafter consent to any tax or subsidy of money for the court
of Rome. When this came to the pope's ear, upon a cruel rage he
directed his letters to the prelates of England, charging that, under
pain of suspense or interdiction, they should provide the same sum of
money to he collected against the feast of Assumption, the charge
being given to the bishop of Worcester to be executor of the said
curse. The king, who lately intended to stand to the liberties of the
church, now, for fear of the pope, and partly for persuasions of the
said bishop of Worcester and other prelates, durst not stand to it,
but gave over. Moreover, the greedy gulf of the Romish avarice waxed
so immeasurable, that at length the pope shamed not, upon the censure
of his curse, to ask the third part of the church goods, and the
yearly fruit of all vacant benefices. The chief doers and legates in
England were Otho, Stephanus Capellanus, Petrus Rubeus, the nuncio,
Mag. Martin, and Mag. Marinus. Of whom to speak further (for that I
have matter much more to write) for this present time I think best to
desist, lest, in opening all the detestable doings and pestilent
workings of those men, I might perhaps not only molest good ears, but
also infect the air, Yet one thing concerning the said Otho I cannot
well overpass.

This Otho, as he left no place unsought where any vantage might be
got; so amongst all others he came to Oxford, where, lying in the
house of Osney, he was received with great honour, the scholars
presenting him honourably with such dishes and rewards as they had,
thinking to gratify the cardinal after the best manner. This being
done before dinner, and the dinner ended, they came reverently to see
and welcome him, supposing that they also should with like courtesy
again of him be entertained. As they came to the gate, the porter
(being an Italian) with a loud voice asketh what they would have.
They said they came to see the lord legate. But Cerberus the porter,
holding the door half open, with proud and contumelious language
thrust them out, and would not suffer them to enter. The scholars
seeing that, by force thrust open the gate and came in; whom when the
Romans which were within would have repelled with their fists, and
such staves as they had in their hands, they fell to alarum and by
the ears together, with much hoving and shoving and many blows on
both sides. In the mean time, while some of the scholars ran home for
their weapons, there chanced a poor scholar, an Irishman, to stand at
the gate waiting for his alms. Whom when the master saw at the gate,
he, taking hot scalding water out of the pan where the meat was
sodden, did cast it in his face. One of the scholars, a Welchman,
that came with his bow and shafts, seeing that, letteth drive an
arrow, and shooteth this Nabuzardan (that master of cooks) clean
through the body, and slayeth him out of hand. The cook falling dead,
there was a mighty broil and a great clamour throughout all the
house. The cardinal, hearing the tumult and great noise about him,
like a valiant Roman, runueth as fast as he could into the steeple,
and there locketh the doors fast unto him, where he remained till
midnight. The scholars in the mean while, not yet all pacified,
sought all comers about for the legate, exclaiming and crying out,
Where is that usurer, that simoniac, that piller and poller of our
livings, that prowler and extortioner of our money, which perverteth
our king, and subverteth his kingdom, enriching himself with our
spoils, &c.? All this heard the cardinal, and held his peace. When
the night approaching had broken up the field, the cardinal, coming 
out of his fort, and taking his horse, (in silence of the night,) was
privily conveyed over the river toward the king, conveying himself
away as fast as he could. After the king heard this, he sendeth to
Oxford a garrison of armed men, to deliver the Romans which were
there hidden for fear of scholars. Then was Master Otho, a lawyer,
with thirty other scholars, apprehended, and carried to Wallingford
castle, and from thence had in carts to London: where at length
(through much entreaty of the bishops) they, being brought barefoot
to the legate's door, had their pardon, and the university released
of interdiction. And thus much concerning the pope's legate in
England.

Thus partly you have heard and do understand the miserable thraldom
and captivity of this realm of England, and the clergy of the same,
who before refused to take part with King John, their natural prince,
against the foreign power of the pope: and now how miserably they are
oppressed and scourged of the same pope; whose insatiable extortion
and rapacity did so exceed in pilling and polling of this realm long
alter this, that neither the king now could help them, neither could
the pope with any reasonable measure be content. Insomuch that
writers record that in the days of Sudbury, archbishop of Canterbury.
A.D. 1360, the pope by his proctors gat from the clergy, in less than
one year, more than forty thousand florins of mere contribution;
besides his other avails and common revenues out of benefices, 
prebendaries. firstfruits, tributes. Peter pence, collations,
reservations, relaxations, and such merchandise. &c.



50. THE CRUSADE AGAINST THE ALBIGENSIANS.

Mention was made a little before of the Albigenses keeping about the
city of Tholouse. These Albigenses. because they began to smell the
pope, and to control the inordinate proceedings and discipline of the
see of Rome, the pope therefore, recounting them as a people
heretical. excited and stirred up about this present time and year,
A.D. 1220. Louis, the young French king, through the instance of
Philip his father, to lay siege against the said city of Tholouse, to
expunge and extinguish these Albigenses his enemies. Whereupon Louis,
according to his father's commandmant, reared a puissant and a mighty
army to compass about and beset the forenamed city, and so did. Here
were the men of Tholouse in great danger. But see how the mighty
protection of God fighteth for his people against the might of man;
for after that Louis (as Matthew Paris testifieth) had long wearied
himself and his men in waste, and could do no good with all their
engines and artillery against the city, there fell moreover upon the
French host, by the hand of God, such famine and pestilence. both of
men and horses, besides the other daily slaughter of the soldiers,
that Louis was enforced to retire, and with such as were left to
return again home to France from whence he came. In the slaughter of
which soldiers, besides many others, was Earl Simon Montfort, general
of the army, to whom the lands of the earl of Tholousc were given by
the pope; who was slain before the gate of the city with a stone; and
so was also the brother of the said Simon the same time, in besieging
a castle near to Tholouse, slain with a stone in like manner. And so
was the siege of the Frenchmen against Tholouse broken up.

As the siege of these Frenchmen could do no good against the city of
Tholouse; so it happened the same time that the Christians, marching
towards the holy Land, had better success in laying their siege to a
certain tower or castle in Egypt near to the city Damieta, which
seemed by nature for the situation and difficulty of the place
inexpugnable; which being situate in the midst of the great flood
Nilus, hard by the city called Damieta, could neither be come to by
land, nor be undermined for the water, nor by famine subdued for the
nearness of the city; yet notwithstanding, through the help of God
and policy of man, by erecting scaffolds and castles upon tops of
masts, the Christians at last conquered it, and after that also the
city Damieta, albeit not without great loss of Christian people. In
the expugnation of this city or fort, among others that there died,
was the landgrave of Thuring, named Louis, the husband of Elizabeth,
whom we use to call St. Elizabeth. This Elizabeth (as my story
recordeth) was the daughter of the king of Hungary, and married in
Almaine, where she lived with the forenamed Louis, landgrave of
Thuring, whom she through her persuasions provoked and incensed to
take that voyage to fight for the Holy Land, where he in the same
voyage was slain. After whose death Elizabeth, remaining a widow,
entered the profession of cloisterly religion, and made herself a
nun; so growing and increasing from virtue to virtue, that after her
death all Almaine did sound with the fame of her worthy doings.
Matthew Paris addeth this more, that she was the daughter of that
queen, who, being accused to be naughty with a certain archbishop,
was therefore condemned with this sentence pronounced against her: To
kill the queen will ye not to fear, that is good; and if all men
consent thereunto, not I myself do stand against it. The which
sentence being brought to Pope Innocent, thus in pointing the
sentence, which otherwise seemeth to have a double understanding, he
so saved the queen, thus interpreting and pointing the same: To kill
the queen will ye not, to fear, that is good; and if all do consent
thereto, yet not I, I myself do stand against it: and so escaped she
the danger. This queen was the mother (as is said) of Elizabeth the
nun, who for her holy nunnishness was canonized of the pope's church
for a saint in Almaine, about the year of our Lord 1220.

And this by the way. Now to proceed further in the years and life of
this King Henry. The next year following, which was A.D. 1221, the
king went to Oxford, where he had something to do with William, earl
de Albemarlia, who had taken the castle of Biham; but at last. for
his good service he had done in the realm before, he was released of
the king, with all his men, by the intercession of Walter, archbishop
of York, and of Pandulph the legate. About which present year entered
first the Friar Minorites, or Grey Friars, into England, and had
their first house at Canterbury, whose first patron was Francis,
which died A.D. 1127, and his order was confirmed by Pope Honorius
the Third, A.D. 1224.

About the first coming of these Dominic and Grey Friars Franciscan
into the realm, many Englishmen the same time entered into their
orders. Among whom was Johannes de Sancto Egidio, a man famously
expert in the science of physic and astronomy, and Alexander de 
Hales, both Englishmen and great divines. This Johannes, making his
sermon in the house of the Dominic friars, exhorted his auditory with
great persuasions unto wilful poverty. And to confirm his words the
more by his own example, in the midst of his sermon he came down from
the pulpit and put on his friar's habit; and so, returning into the
pulpit again, made an end of his sermon. Likewise Alexander Hales
entered the order of the Franciscans, of whom remaineth yet the book,
entitled De summa Theologiæ, in old libraries.

In the year 122l about St. James-tide fell a dissension between the
citizens of London and the men of Westminster; the occasion whereof
was this. A certain game between these two parties was appointed, to
try whether part in wrestling could overcome the other. Thus. in
striving for mastery, each party contending against the other, (as
the manner is in such pastime,) it happened that the Londoners got
the victory, and the other side was put to foil, but especially the
steward of the abbot of Westminster; who, being not a little
confounded therewith, began to forethink in his mind how to be
revenged again of the Londoners. Whereupon another day was set, which
was at Lammas, that the Londoners should come again to wrestle: and
whoso had the victory should have the bel-wether, which was the price
of the game appointed. As the parties were thus occupied in their
play, the steward suddenly bringeth upon the Londoners unawares a
company of harnessed men prepared for the same before, and letteth
drive at the Londoners; who, at length being wounded and grievously
hurt, after much bloodshed were driven back again into the city. This
contumely thus being received, the citizens, eagerly stricken with
ire and impatience, ran to the common bell, and by ringing thereof
assembled their commons together, to consult with themselves what was
to be done in that case so contumelious. Wherein, when divers
sentences were given diviersely, Serle, the same time mayor of
London, (a wise and discreet man,) gave this counsel; that the abbot
of Westminster should be talked withal, who if he would rectify the
injury done, and satisfy for the harm received, it should be to them
sufficient. But contrary, one Constantine, a great man then in the
city of London, in much heat exciting the people, gave this sentence,
that all the houses of the abbot of Westminster, but especially the
house of the steward, should be cast down to the ground. In fine,
that which he so unadvisedly counselled was as madly performed; for
the furious people according to his counsel so did. This tumultuous
outrage, as it could not be privy, coming to the knowledge of Hubert
de Burgo, lord chief justice of England above mentioned, he coming
with a sufficient strength of armed soldiers to the city of London,
sent to the mayor and aldermen of the city to will them to come unto
him. Who so obeying his commandment, be required of them the
principal beginners of the riot. To whom Constantine, there being
present, answered, that he would warrant that which was done;
sorrowing, moreover, that they had not done more than they did in the
matter. The justice, upon the same his confession, commanded him with
two others, without any further tumult, to be taken; and so with the
same two he was hanged, he offering for his life fifteen thousand
marks, &c.

The said Hubert, earl of Kent, and lord chief justice, although he
was a faithful and trusty officer to his prince, and had the whole
guiding of the realm in his own hands, the king as yet being in his
minority; yet afterward, what indignation be sustained for this his
severity and other things, both of the nobles and of the commons, and
how sharply he was tossed and trounced of his prince, wonder it is to
see, as in his due place and time (by the Lord's leave) hereafter
shall appear.

And forsomuch as mention hath been made of the wrangling between the
commoners of London and of Westminster, both time and occasion
bringeth me in remembrance something to speak like wise of the
ecclesiastical conflicts among church-men, nothing inferior in my
mind, nor less worthy to be noted, than the other. For so I read in
Matth. Paris, and in Flores Hist., that at what time this wrestling
was among the citizens for the sheep, the like contention kindled and
inflamed between Eustace, bishop of London, and the chapter of
Paul's, on the one side, and the abbot of Westminster with his
convent on the other side, about spiritual jurisdiction and
subjection; to wit, whether the monastery of Westminster were
exempted from the subjection and jurisdiction of the bishop of London
or not. Which controversy at last coming into compromise, was
committed to the arbitrement of Stephen, archbishop of Canterbury,
Philip, bishop of Winchester, Thomas, of Merton, and Richard, prior
of Dunstable; and at length it was thus agreed, that the monastery of
Westminster should be utteriy exempted from the jurisdiction of the
bishop of London, and that Stanes, with the appurtenances thereto
belonging, should appertain to the monastery of Westminster. Also,
that the manor of Sunbury should be due and proper to the church of
St. Paul; and also that the church of St. Margaret, with all the
lands belonging to the same, should be exempted from all other
jurisdiction, but only of the bishop of Rome. And so was this matter
decided, A.D. 1222.

(Illustration: Grantham Church struck by Lightning )

The same year (as writeth Matth. Paris) horrible tempests, with such
thundering, and lightning, and whirl winds, went through all the
land, that much harm was done; churches, steeples, towers, houses,
and divers trees with the violence of winds were blown up by the
roots. In Warwickshire a certain wife with eight others in her house
were slain. In Grantham the church was set on fire by lightning most
terrible, with such a stink left there behind, that no man could
after a long time abide it. The author addeth, that manifest marks of
the tempest did re main long after in that monastery to be seen. Some
also write that fiery dragons and spirits were seen then flying in
the air.

A.D. 1223 Philip the French king died, after whom his son Louis
succeeded in the crown. To whom King Henry sending his message, and
desiring him to remember his promise and covenant made in rendering
again the lands lost in Normandy, could obtain nothing at his hands.
Whereupon Richard, earl of Cornwall, also William, the king's uncle,
earl of Salisbury, with divers other nobles, made over into France,
where they recovered Poictiers, and kept Gascony under the king's
obedience.

In the same year, or, as Fabian giveth, the next following, which was
1224, by the virtue of a certain parliament, it was granted of the
lords and barony of the land, that the king and his heirs should have
the ward and marriage of their heirs, which then was called, and
after so proved to be, the beginning of harms.

In the same year, by the count of Gisburne and other writers, the
said king holding another parliament at Oxenford, by the advice of
his council and of his clergy, did grant and confirm, under his great
seal, two charts of the old liberties and customs of this realm, for
ever to be kept and observed; the one called Magna Charta, the other,
Charta de Foresta. The contents whereof fully in the forenamed author
are expressed. For the which cause was granted again by the whole
parliament a quindecim, or a fifteen of all his subjects, as well of
lay men as also of the clergy.

Where is to be noted, that these liberties were afterward broken, and
confirmed again by the said king, A.D. 1236.

A.D. 1226 died Pope Honorius, a great adversary against Frederic the
emperor, after whom succeeded Gregory the Ninth, more grievous than
his predecessor. In which year died also Louis, the perjured French
king, at the siege of Avignon; whom the pope now the second or third
time had set up to fight against Reimund, the good earl of Toulouse,
and the heretics Albigenses of that country; for so the pope calleth
all them which hold not in all points with his glorious pride, and
usurped power, and ungodly proceedings. The origin whereof was this,
as in Matth. Paris appeareth. In the days of Philip the French king,
this Reimund, earl of Toulouse, was disdained of the pope for holding
with the Albigenses; and therefore, by the instigation of the pope,
the lands of the earl were taken from him, and given to Simon
Montfort, and instruments made upon the same. But when the said Earl
Reimund would not be removed from the right of his possessions by
unrighteous dealing, then the pope setteth Philip the French king. to
make open war against him. Whereupon Louis, the French king, was sent
with a great power (as is above declared) to besiege the city of
Toulouse; but, being repulsed from thence by the marvellous hand of
God fighting for his people, he could not prevail, and so returned
home after he had lost the most part of his army by pestilence and
other calamity, as hath been before described. And thus continued the
good earl still in quiet possession till this present time, A.D.
1226. In the which year the pope, not forgetting his old malice 
against the earl, and no less inflamed with insatiable avarice,
directeth down his legate, Master Romanus, to the parts of France for
two several purposes; one to extirpate the earl, the other to enlarge
his revenues. Thus the legate, being entered into France, beginneth
to summon a council, willing the French king, with the archbishops,
bishops, and clergy of France, to appear before him at Bitures; to
whom eftsoons repaired six archbishops, with the bishops and
suffragans of nine provinces, to the number of a hundred, besides the
abbots, priors, and proctors of all the convents of France, to hear
the pope's will and commandment. But because there was a discord
feared to rise (with Matthæus) about pre-eminence of sitting, for
that the archbishop of Lyons challenged the superior place above the
archbishop of Sene; also the archbishop of Rouen above the archbishop
of Bitures, and above the archbishop of Narbonne, &c; therefore the
session was holden there not in manner and form of a council, but of
a certain parley or consultation. Thus the meek and holy council
being set, and the pope's Majesty's letters read and declared,
appeareth before them Reimund, earl of Toulouse, of the one part, and
Simon Montfort on the other part; which Simon required to be restored
unto him the lands and possessions of the said Reimund, which the
pope and Philip the French king had given to him and to his father
before, having good evidences to show for the same, confirmed by the
donation of the pope and of the king. Adding, moreover, that the Earl
Reimund was deprived and disherited in the general council at Rome
for heresy, which is called the heresy of Albigenses. At least, if he
might not have the whole yielded unto him, yet the most part of his
lordships he required to be granted him.

To this the Earl Reimund answered again, offering himself ready to
all duty and office, both toward the French king and to the Church of
Rome, whatsoever duly to him did appertain. And, moreover, touching
the heresy wherewith he was there charged, he did not only there
offer himself in that council before the legate, but most humbly did
crave of him that he would take the pains to come into every city
within his precinct to inquire of every person there the articles of
his belief; and if he found any person or persons holding that which
was not catholic, he would see the same to be corrected and amended
according to the censure of holy church to the uttermost. Or if he
should find any city rebelling against him, he, to the uttermost of
his might, with the inhabitants thereof, would compel them to do
satisfaction therefore. And as touching himself, if he had committed
or erred in any thing, (which he remembereth not that he had done,)
he offered there full satisfaction to God and church, as becomed any
faithful Christian man to do; requiring, moreover, there before the
legate to be examined of his faith, &c. But all this (saith Matthæus)
the legate despised; neither could the catholic earl (saith he) there
find any grace, unless he would depart from his heritage, both from
himself and from his heirs for ever. In fine, when it was required by
the contrary part, that he should stand to the arbitrement of twelve 
peers of France to that Reimund answered, that if the French king
would receive his homage, which he was ready at all times to exhibit,
he was contented therewith. For else they would not, said he, take
him as one of their society and fellow subjects.

After much altercation on both sides about the matter, the legate
willeth every archbishop to call aside his suffragans, to deliberate
with them upon the cause, and to give up in writing what was
concluded. Which being done accordingly. the legate denounceth
excommunication to all such as did reveal any piece of that which was
there concluded, before the pope and the king had intelligence
thereof.

These things thus in confusion among themselves concluded, the legate
gave leave to all proctors of convents and chapters to return home,
only retaining with him the archbishops, bishops, and abbots, and
certain simple prelates, such as he might be more bold withal to
open, and of them to obtain, the other part of his commission, which
was indeed to obtain of every cathedral church two prebendships; one
for the bishop, the other for the chapter. And in monasteries also
after the like sort, where the abbot and convent had divers and
several portions, to require two churches; one for the abbot, the
other for the convent; keeping this proportion, that how much should
suffice for the living of one monk, so much the whole convent should
find for their part, and as much the abbot likewise for his. And
forsomuch as he would not seem to demand this without some colour of
cause, his reason was this: that because the court of Rome had long
been blotted with the note of avarice, which is mother of all evil,
for that no man could come to Rome for any business, but be must pay
for the expedition of the same; therefore, for the removing away of
the occasion of that shnder, the public help of the church must
necessarily be required, &c.

The proctors and parties, thus sent home by the legates, marvelling
with themselves why the bishops and abhots should be stayed, and they
sent home, and suspecting no less but as the matter was indeed,
conferred their counsels together, and devised with themselves to
send certain unto him in the behalf of all the cathedral and
conventual churches in France; and sent to the said legate this
message, to signify to him, that they were credibly informed he came
with special letters from the court of Rome for the obtaining of
certain prebendaries in every cathedral and conventual church. Which
being so, they much marvelled that he would not in the public council
make manifest to them those letters, which specially concerned them
as much as the others. Wherefore their request was to him in the
Lord, that no such offensive matter might rise by him in the French
church; knowing this, that the thing he enterpriseth could not be
brought to effect without great offence taken, and inestimable damage
to the Church of France. "For grant (said they) that certain will
assent unto you, yet their assent standeth in no effect concerning
such matters as touch the whole; especially seeing both the states of
the realm, with all the inferior subjects, yea, and the king himself,
they are sure will withstand the same, to the venture not only of
their honour, but of their life also, considering the case to be
such, as upon the offence whereof standeth the subversion both of the
realm public, and of the whole church in general." Declaring,
moreover, the cause of this fear to rise hereof, for that in other
realms such communication hath been with bishops and prelates for the
procuring of such prebendships, whereas neither the prince nor the
subjects were made any thing privy thereto.

In conclusion, when the matter came to debating with the legate, the
objections of the inferior parties against the cruel exaction were
these in brief effect, as is in Parisiensis noted.

First, they alleged their great damages and expenses which they were
like to sustain thereby, by reason of the continual procurators of
the pope, which in every diocess must live not of their own, but must
he sustained upon the charges of the cathedral churches, and other
churches also; and many times, they being but procurators, will be
found as legates.

Item, by that means they said great perturbations might ensue to the
convents and chapters of cathodral churches in their elections;
forsomuch as the pope's agents and factors being in every cathedral
church and chapter-house, perchance the pope would command him in his
person to be present at their elections, and so might trouble the
same, in delaying and deferring till it might fall to the court of
Rome to give; and so should be placed more of the pope's partizans in
the churches of France, than of the proper inhabitants of the land.

Item, by this means they affirmed, that all they in the court of Rome
should be richer, and should receive more for their proportion, than
the king of the realm; by reason of which abundance of riches it was
like to come to pass, that as the worm of rich men is pride; so, by
the means of this their riches, the court of Rome would delay and
drive off great suits, and scarce would take any pains with small
causes. The experiment whereof is evident, for that now also they use
to delay their matters, when they come, with their gifts, and being
in assurance to receive. And thus should justice stand aside, and
poor suitors die at the gates of the court of Rome, thus flowing and
triumphing in full abundance of all treasure and riches.

Item, forsomuch as it is meet and convenient to have friends in the
court of Rome. for the better speeding of their causes; therefore
they thought to keep them needy, whereby their gifts may be the
sweeter. and their causes sooner despatched.

Item, whenas it is impossible the fountain of greedy desire to be
stopped. it was to be feared that either they would do that by others
which they were wont to do by themselves, or else they should be 
enforced to give greater rewards than before; for small gifts in the
sight of great rich men are not looked upon.

Item, where be alleged the removing away of the slander which goeth
on the court of Rome; by this means rather the contrary were to be
feared. wherein they alleged the sentence of the verse, that great
riches stop not the taking of much, but a mind contented with a
little:

Quod virtus reddit, non copia sufficientem,
Et non paupertas sed mentis hiatus egentem.

Further, they alleged that great riches would make the Romans mad,
and so might kindle among them sides and parts taking: so that by
great pos sessions sedition might follow to the ruin and destruction
of the city, whereof some experiment they had already.

Item. they added, that although they would condescend and oblige
themselves to that contribution, yet their successors would not so be
bound, nor yet ratify the bond of theirs.

Lastly, thus they conclude the matter, desiring him that the zeal of
the universal church, and of the Church of Rome, would move him; for
if this oppression of the church should be universal, it were to be
doubted lest a universal departing might follow from the Church of
Rome, which God forbid (say they) should happen.

The legate hearing these words, being therewith something moved, (as
seemed,) excused himself, that he being in the court never agreed to
this exaction; and that the letters hereof came not to him before he
was in France, whereat he said he was greatly sorry; adding this
withal, that the words of his precept included this secret meaning in
them, thus to be understood and taken: so far forth as the empire and
other realms would agree unto the same. And as for him, he would stir
no more in the matter, before it were proved what other countries
would say and do therein.

And thus much concerning the second part of the blind commission of
this legate, touching his exaction of prebendships in every cathedral
and conventual church, wherein, as ye hear, he was repulsed.

Now to return to the first part of his commission again, which was
cocerning Reimund, the godly earl of Toulouse. Thus the story
proceedeth, that while the legate was in hand with this matter of the
pope's money, in the mean season certain preaching friars were
directed by the said Romanus, the pope's legate, into all France, to
incite and stir up the Frenchmen to take the cross upon them, and to
war against the earl of Toulouse and the people thereof, whom they
accounted then for heretics. At the preaching whereof a great number
of prelates and laymen signed themsels es with the cross, to fight
against the people of Toulouse, being thereto induced, as the story
saith, more for fear of the French king, or favour of the legate,
than for any true zeal of justice. For so it followeth in the words
of Paris: "For to many (saith he) it seemed an abuse to move war
against a faithful Christian man, especially seeing in the Council of
Bitures before all men he entreated the legate with great instance
that he would come into every city within his dominions, and there to
inquire of every person the articles of his faith; where if he found
any man to hold any thing contrary to the catholic faith, he promised
a full satisfaction to he had thereof, according to the censure of
the church, to the uttermost," &c.

Yet all this notwithstanding, the proud legate, contemning this so
honest and reasonable purgation of the Earl Reimumd, ceased not by
all manner of means to prosecute the pope's fury against him and his
subjects, stirring up the king and the French men. under pain of
excommunication, to war against them. Louis, the French king, thus
being enforced by the legate, answered again, that he for his own
safety would not achieve that expedition, or adventure against the
earl, unless it were first obtained of the pope to write to the king
of England; commanding him that, during the time of that expedition,
he should invade and molest no peer of his lands and possessions
which he the same present time did hold, whether by right or by
wrong, or howsoever they were holden, while the time of the said war
against the heretics (as they were then termed) did endure, but
rather should aid and assist him with counsel and money in that
enterprise. All which being done and accomplished, the French king
and the legate, crossing themselves to the field, appointed a day
peremptory for the French army to meet together at Lyons, under pain
of the pope's excommunication, and with horse and harness to set upon
the people of Toulouse against the Ascension day next ensuing.

When the Ascension day was come, which was the day peremptorily
appointed, the French king, having prepared at Lyons all things
necessary for his army, marcheth forward with a great and mighty
host: after whom also cometh the legate, with his bishops and
prelates. The number of fighting men in his army, besides the
victuallers and waggoners, were fifty thousand men. The legate by the
way openly excommunicated the earl of Toulouse, and all that took his
part, and furthermore interdicted his whole land. Thus the king came
marching forward, till he came into the province of Toulouse, and the
first city which he came unto there of the earl's was Avignon; which
city they thought first to have besieged, and so in order after, as
they went, to have destroyed and wasted all the whole province
belonging to the earl. And first the king demanded of them to have 
his passage through the city, feigning himself in peaceable wise (for
the expedition of his journey) but to pass through the same. The
citizens, consulting with themselves what was to be done, at length
gave answer that they mistrusted their coming, and supposed that in
deceit they required the entrance of their city, and for no necessity
of their journey.

The king, hereat being much offended, sware an oath that he would not
depart thence till he had taken the city; and immediately in those
places where he thought most meet he began to give sharp assaults,
with all manner of assaulting engines: the citizens again within
manfully defended themselves, casting stone for stone, and shooting
shot for shot, and slew and wounded many of the French men. Thus when
they had long besieged the city, and could not win the same, at
length victuals in the French camp began to fail, and many of them
died for hunger. For the earl of Toulouse, as a wise man of war,
hearing before of their coming, took into the town all the provision
that was abroad, and left nothing without to serve for their defence
and succour; he ploughed up the fields, that there should no stover
be found to serve their horses; he put out of the town all the old
people and young children, lest they should want victuals that kept
the town, and before their coming sent them far away; so that within
the town they had plenty, and without they died for famine. And
besides, in seeking far for their forage, many fell into the hands of
them that kept the city, who secretly lay in wait for them abroad,
and slew many of them: besides, a great number of cattle and horses
died for want of forage; and poor soldiers, that had no great store
of money, died for want of victuals. By which mortality and stink
both of men and cattle grew great infection and pestilence among
them; inso much that the king himself and also the legate were
greatly dismayed, thinking it to be no little shame, as well to the
realm of France, as also to Rome, that they should so depart and
break up their siege. Thus again thought the soldiers, that much
better it were for them to end their lives by battle, than so to die
like dogs and starve. Wherefore with one consent they purposed to
give a new assault at the bridge that goeth over the flood Rhodanus
into the town, to which place they came in such number, that either
by the debility of the bridge, or subtlety of the soldiers that kept
the town, three thousand of them, with bridge and all, fell armed
into the violent stream, and were drowned. What was there then but
joy and gladness of the citizens' part, and much lamentation and
heaviness on the other part? Then shortly after, the citizens of
Avignon (when they saw a convenient time, whilst their enemies were
in eating meat) came suddenly upon them out of the town, and slew of
them two thousand, and took the town again with safety. But the
legate with his company of prelates, like good men of war, practised
none other martial feats, save cursing the earl of Toulouse, his
cities, and his people. Louis the king, to avoid the pestilence that
was in the camp, went into an abbey not far off; where shortly after
he died; of whose death are sundry opinions; some saying that he was
poisoned, some that he died of a bloody flux.

Whose death notwithstanding the legate thought to keep secret and
concealed, till that the town might be rendered and given up; for he
thought himself shamed for ever, if he should depart before the town
were won. Wherefore, after he had encouraged the soldiers afresh, and
yet after many sharp assaults could not prevail, he bethought him how
by falsehood he might betray them, and sent unto them certain
heralds, to will them that they should amongst themselves consult
upon articles of peace, and bring the same to their camp, whose safe
conduct they faithfully promised and warranted both of coming and
going. And when they had given their pledges for the same, the
messengers from the citizens talked with the legate, who promised
them, if they would deliver up their city, they should have their
lives, goods, and possessions in as ample manner as now they enjoyed
the same. But the citizens and soldiers refused to be under the
servitude of the French king, neither would so deliver up their city
to those, of whose insolent pride they had so good experiment. After
much talk on both sides, and none likely to take effect. the legate
requested them, and kindly desired, that he, and his prelates which
were about him, might come into their city to examine what faith and
belief they were of, and that he neither sought nor meant any other
thing thereby but their own safeties, as well of body as soul, which
thing he faithfully sware unto. For (saith he) the bruit of your
great infidelity hath come to the lord pope's ear, and therefore
desired he to make true certificate thereof. Whereupon the citizens,
not mistrusting his faithful oath and promise made unto them, granted
entrance to him and the residue of the clergy. bringing with them no
weapon into the town. The soldiers of the camp, as it was agreed
before, made them ready; so that at the entrance of the prelates in
at the gate, nothing regarding their oath and fidelity, the other
suddenly were ready, and with violence rushed in, slew the porter and
warders, and at length won the city, and destroyed the same, and slew
many of them that were within. Thus by falsehood and policy, when
they had gotten this noble city, they carried the king's corpse unto
Paris, where they buried the same. Of the whole number of the French
soldiers which in this siege were destroyed by famine, pestilence,
and drowning, be recounted more than two and twenty thousand:
whereby, saith the story of Matt. Paris, it may evidently appear the
war was unjustly taken in hand, &c.

After these things finished, and after the funeral of the king
celebrated at Paris, it followeth more in the said history of Matt.
Paris, that the said legate Romanus was vehemently suspected, and
grievously infamed to abuse himself with Blanca, the king's mother.
But it is ungodly to suspect any such thing of him, because his
enemies so rumoured the same abroad; but a gentle mind expoundeth
things doubtful in the better part.



51. HENRY III (CONTD.)

To pass further to the year next following, which was 1227 of the
Lord, first it is to be noted, that in this year King Henry,
beginning to shoot up unto the twentieth year of his age, came from
Reading to London, where he began to charge the citizens of London
for old reckonings, namely, for giving or lending one thousand marks
to Louis, the French king, at his departing out of the realm, to the
great prejudice of him and of his kingdom. For the recompence whereof
they were constrained to yield to the king the full sum of the like
money. That done, he removed to Oxford, where he assembled a great
council, there denouncing and protesting before them all that he was
come to sufficient age no more to be under tutors and governors, but
to be his own man, requiring to be freed from the custody of others.
Which thing being protested, and contradicted forthwith, he, by the
counsel of Hubert, the chief justice, whom he made then the earl of
Kent, removed from his company the bishop of Winchester, and others,
under whom he was moderated. And immediately in the same council, by
the sinister persuasion of some, he doth annihilate and make void the
charters and liberties before by him granted pretending this colour;
for that they had been granted and sealed in the time of his
minority, at what time he had the rule neither of himself nor of his
seal. Whereupon much muttering and mumuring was among the multitude,
who did all impute the cause to Hubert the justice. Moreover, it was
the same time proclaimed, that whoso ever had any charter or gift
sealed in the time of the king's minority, they should come and renew
the same again under the new seal of the king, knowing otherwise that
the thing should stand in no effect. And finally, for renewing of
their seals, they were taxed not according to their ability, but
according as it pleased the justice and other to levy them.

Moreover, beside this general subsidy of the fifteenth granted to the
king through the whole realm, and besides all the contribution of the
Londoners, divers other parcels and payments he gathered through
several places; as of the burgesses of Northampton he required a
thousand and two hundred marks for his helping of them, and so of
others likewise. All this preparation of money was made towards the
furnishing of his voyage to recover Normandy. And yet because be
would gratify the city of London again with some pleasure, he granted
that the citizens thereof should pass toll free (saith Fabian)
throughout all England. And if of any city, borough, or town they
were constrained at any time to pay their toll, then the sheriffs of
London to attach every man coming to London of the said city,
borough, or town, and him with his goods to withhold, till the
Londoners were again restored of all such money paid for the said
toll, with all costs and damages sustained for the same.

I declared before, how after the death of Honorius succeeded Pope
Gregory the Tenth, between the which Gregory and the people of Rome
this year fell a great sedition. Insomuch that about the feast of
Easter they thrust the pope out of the city, pursuing him unto his
castle at Viterbiam. Where also they invaded him so valiantly, that
they chased him to Perugia. Then, having no other remedy wherewith to
revenge his persecutors, fiercely he did excommunicate them.

Here, by the way, is to be observed and considered, Christian reader,
not only by this sedition, but by so many other sebisms, divisions,
tumults, fightings, brawls, and contentions in the Church of Rome,
from the first beginning of the pope's usurped power, and that not
only within the city of Rome, but universally almost in all popish
monasteries, colleges, churches, and convents under the pope
subjected, continually reigning amongst them, what is to be thought
of their religion and holiness, having so little peace, so great
disquietness, dissensions, and wrangling amongst them, as in stories
both manifest it is to behold, and wondrous to consider.

And forsomaeh as I have entered here into the mention of this
schismatical commotion between the pope and his citizens, it
followeth moreover in the history of Parisiensis, who maketh relation
of a like brawling matter, which befell the same year and time, A.D.
1228, between the prior and convent of Durham and this King Henry the
Third, upon this occasion: After the death of Richard, bishop of
Durham, the prior and chapter of the said church came to the king, to
obtain licence for the electing of their bishop. The king offered to
them one Lucas, a chaplain of his, requiring them instantly to elect
him for their bishop. To this the monks answered, that they would
receive no man but by their order of canonical election. Meaning
belike, by their canonical election, thus much, whenas they elect
either some monk out of their own company, or else some monkish
priest after their own liking. Contrary, the king again sendeth word
unto them, and bound it with an oath, that they should tarry seven
years without a bishop, unless they would admit the foresaid Lucas to
that place of that dignity. All which notwithstanding, the monks,
proceeding in their election, refused the said Lucas, and preferred
another clerk of theirs, named William, archdeacon of Worcester, and
him they presented to the king; but the king, bringing in exceptions
and causes against the party, would not admit him. Then the monks in
all hasty speed sent up to Rome certain of their convent, to have
their election ratified by the authority apostolical. On the other
side the king, likewise hearing, sendeth also to Rome against the
monks the bishop of Chester and the prior of Lentony on his behalf,
to withstand the purpose of the monks. And so the matter, being
travised with great altercation on both sides, did hang in suspense,
(saith mine author,) till at length thus it was concluded between
both, that neither Master William nor yet Lucas should be taken, but
that Richard, bishop of Sarum, should be translated to Durham, and be
bishop there, A.D. 1228.

The like stir also happened both the same year, and for the like
matter, between the monks of Coventry and the canons of Litchfield,
about choosing of their bishop, which of them should have the
superior voice in the election of their prelate. After much ado, the
cause, at length being hoisted up to Rome, had this determination;
that the monks of Coventry and the church of Litchfield should choose
their bishop by course, each part keeping his turn the one after the
other; provided, notwithstanding, that the prior of Coventry should
always have the first voice in every election; whereas the old custom
was, saith mine author, that the convent with the prior of Coventry
was wont to have the whole election of the bishop without the canons:
this was A.D. 1228.

In the which year died Stephen Langton, archbishop of Canterbury, by
whom the chapters of the Bible, in that order and number as we now
use them, were first distinguished. The said Langton also made
postils upon the whole Bible. The same moreover builded the new hall
in the palace of Canterbury.

After the death of this Langton ensued another variance about the
election of the archbishop of Canterbury, between the monks of
Canterbury and the king. The perturbation whereof, as it was no less
seditious, so the determination of the same was much more costly.
After the death of Stephen Langton, the monks of Canterbury,
obtaining licence of the king to proceed in the election of a new
archbishop, did choose one of their own society, named Master Walter
Hemesham. Whom when the monks had presented unto the king, he, after
long deliberation, began to object against that election, saying,
first, that the monks had elected such a one as neither was
profitable to him nor his kingdom. Secondly, he objected against the
party elect, that his father was convict of felony, and hanged for
the same. Thirdly, that he stood in causes against his father King
John in the time of the interdict. Moreover, the bishops, his
suffragans, charged the party elect, that he had lain with a certain
nun, and had children by her; adding further, that the election of
the archbishop was without their presence, which ought not to be, &c.
But the archbishop again, stoutly standing unto his election,
appealed up to Rome, and eftsoons, taking with him certain monks,
presented himself to the pope's own proper person, there to sue his
appeal; instantly entreating that his election might stand confirmed
by his authority pontifical. But the pope, understanding that the
said election was resisted by the king and the bishops, deferred the
matter until he did hear further of the certainty thereof. The king
and the bishops, having intelligence that the archbishop with his
monks were gone to Rome, thought good to articulate the foresaid
objections above alleged in writing, and, sealing the same with the
seals both of the king and of the bishops, to exhibit them to the
bishop of Rome. The messengers of these letters were the bishops of
Rochester, of Chester, and the archdeacon of Bedford, Master John,
&c. They, coming to Rome, and exhibiting their message with their
letters unto the pope, (consideration being had upon the same,) were
commanded to wait attendance against the next day after Ash
Wednesday; then to have a resolute answer concerning the cause, which
was the second day of March the next year following, that is, in the
year of our Lord 1229. In the mean season, the king's proctors ceased
not with all instance to labour the pope and his cardinals to be
favourable to the king's side. But finding them somewhat hard and
strict in the matter, as is the guise of that court, they began to
misdoubt their speeding. Wherefore, consulting together with
themselves upon the premises, they came to the pope, promising in the
king's behalf to be given and granted to him, out of the realms both
of England and Ireland, the tithe or tenth part of all the goods
within the said realms movable, to sustain his wars against the
emperor, so that he would incline favourably to the king's suit and
petition herein. But the pope, (saith the author,) who boiled with
desire above all measure to have the emperor his enemy cast down,
being cheered with so great promises, granted his consent to them,
who, sitting then in his consistory, had these words which here
follow.

"There hath come of late to our intelligence the election of a
certain monk, named Walter, to be archhishop of Canterbury;
whereupon, after that we heard and advised, as well those things
which the said monk had said for himself and for his election, as
also, on the contrary side, the objections and exceptions of the
bishops of England alleging against him and against his election,
namely, of the bishop of Chester, the bishop of Rochester, and John,
archdeacon of Bedford; we, upon the same, committed the examination,
touching the person of the man, unto our reverend brethren, Lord
Cardinal Albany, Lord Cardinal Thomas de Sabina, and Master Peter.
And when the aforesaid elect, coming before them, was asked of them,
first, concerning the Lord's descending into hell, whether he
descended in flesh, or without his flesh, he answered not well. Item,
being asked touching the making of the body of Christ on the altar,
he answered likewise not soundly. Being asked moreover how Rachel
wept for her children, she being dead before, he answered not well.
Item, being asked concerning the sentence of excommunication
denounced against the order of law, he answered not well. Again,
being required of matrimony, if one of the married parties be an
infidel, and do depart, he answered thereto not well. Upon these
articles he was (as is said) diligently examined of the cardinals, to
the which we say he answered not only not well, but also very ill.
Forasmuch therefore as the church of Canterbury is a noble church,
and requireth a noble prelate, a man discreet and modest, and such as
ought to be taken out of the bosom of the Church of Rome; and
forasmuch as this new elect (whom not only here we pronounce to be
unworthy, but also should say more of him if we would proceed with
him by the rigour of the law) is so insufficient that he ought not to
be admitted to such a room; we do utterly infringe, annihilate, and
evacuate his election, always reserving to ourselves the provision of
the said church."

Thus the election of Walter being frustrated and dissolved, the
king's procurators bringing forth the letters of the king, and of the
suffragans of the church of Canterbury, presented the same unto the
pope for the ratification of Richard, chancellor of Lincoln, to be
appointed archbishop of Canterbury, whom they with great commendation
of words did set forth to be a man of profound learning and
knowledge, of an honest conversation; and, which was greatest of all,
that he was a man much for the profit of the Church of Rome, as also
for the realm of England. And thus the said Richard being commended
to the pope by the letters procuratory of the king and of the
bishops, had the consent of the pope and of the cardinals, and so was
made bishop of Canterbury before he was elected. Whereupon the said
Pope Gregory in his behalf directeth down his letters to all and
singular suffragans of the church of Canterbury, declaring thus, and
beginning first with a lie, that forsomuch as by the fulness of
ecclesiastical power the charge of pastoral office is committed to
him in general upon all churches, he therefore, for the solicitude he
beareth, as well to all other churches in general, as in special to
the metropolitan church of Canterbury, repudiating and disannulling
the former election of Walter the monk upon just causes, hath
provided for that see a man, as in all other good gifts perfecf and
excellent, by the report of them that know him, so for that function
very fit and commodious; and willeth and commandeth them, and all
others, by his authority apostolical, with all devout reverence to
receive him, and humbly to obey him, &c.

These things thus finished at Rome, the pope, not forgetting the
sweet promises made of the English silver which he so greedily gaped
for, omitting neither time nor diligence, in all speedy wise sendeth
unto the king of England M. Stephen, his own chaplain and trusty
legate, to require and collect the foresaid tithes of all the movable
goods both of England, Ireland, and Wales, which were promised to him
before, therewith to maintain his war against Frederic the emperor.
And to the intent he might inflame all Christian realms with the like
hatred which he bare against Frederic the emperor, he sendeth also
with the said Stephen special letters full of manifold complaints and
grievous accusations against the said emperor, whereof more (Christ
granting) shall be showed hereafter. Upon the coming of this Stephen
the legate, the king assembled all his earls and barons, with the
archbishops, bishops, abbots, priors, templaries, hospitallers,
parsons, and vicars, and other such as held of him in capite, to
appear before him at Westminster, to hear and to commune of the
matter. In the assembly of whom, the pope's patent letters were
brought forth and read, wherein he required the tenths of all the
movables in England, Wales, and Ireland, as well of the clergy as of
the laity, to maintain his expedition against the foresaid Frederic
the emperor. The which expedition, as he pretended to achieve and to
take in hand for the cause of the universal church, and happily had
begun the matter already; and forsomuch as the riches of the
apostolic see did not suffice for the accomplishing of so great an
enterprise; he therefore, enforced by mere necessity, did implore the
aid and help of all the true obedient and natural chickens of the
Church of Rome, lest the members thereof together with the head
should be subverted. These letters of the pope to this effect being
openly recited and explained by the pope's chaplain, which he with
much more allegation and persuasion of words did amplify to his
uttermost; the king, (saith mine author,) in whom all men did hope
for help to their defence, became then as a staff of reed. Forsomuch
as he had obliged himself to the same before, for the election of his
archbishop, now could he say nothing against it, but held his peace.
The earls, barons, and all the laity utterly refused so to bind their
baronies to the Church of Rome; but the bishops, abbots, priors, with
other prelates of the church, first requiring space and respite to
deliberate for three or four days, at length, for fear of the pope's
curse, (although they durst not utterly withstand,) had brought to
pass to have concluded for a sum of money much less, had not Stephen
Segrave, one of the king's counsellors, craftily convented with the
legate, and by subtle means brought it so to pass, that the whole
tenths were gathered and paid, to the inestimable damage (saith
Paris) both of the ecclesiastical and temporal state. The means
whereof (saith the author) was this: The legate showing to the
prelates his procuratory letters, to collect and gather up all the
foresaid tenths in the name and authority of the pope, declared
moreover the full authority to him granted, by the virtue of his
commission, to excommunicate all such, and to interdict their
churches, whosoever did gainsay or go contrary to the said
collection. Whereupon, by the said virtue legantine, he sendeth to
every shire his proctors to gather the pope's money, or else to
excommunicate them which denied to pay. And forsomuch as the present
need of the pope required present help without delay, he sendeth
moreover to the bishops and prelates of the realm, in pain of
interdiction, forthwith to procure and send to him, either of their
own, or by loan or usance, or by what means soever, so much money in
all post speed for the present use of the pope; and after to take up
again the said money of the tenths of every singular person, by the
right taxing of their goods. Upon this, the prelates, to avoid the
danger, (having no other remedy,) were driven to sell their chalices,
cruets, copes, jewels, and other church plate, and some to lay to
mortgage such things as they had, some also to borrow upon usance to
make the money which was required. Moreover, the said Stephen, the
pope's chaplain, (as reporteth Matthew Paris,) brought with him into
England for the same purpose, such bankers and usurers, as, lending
out their money upon great usury, did unreasonably pinch the English
people, which merchant usurers were then called Caursini. Briefly,
such strict action was then upon the poor Englishmen, that not only
their present goods were valued and taxed, but also the corn yet
growing in the field against the next harvest was tithed, &c. Only
the earl of Chester, named Ranulph, stood stoutly against the pope,
suffering none within his dominion, either layman or clerk, to yield
any tenths to the pope's proctors. And this was the end of the strife
between the monks of Canterbury and the king for the election of
their archbishop, which was about the year of our Lord 1229; in the
which year was finished the new church of Coventry, by Alexander,
bishop of the said city, and partly by the help of the king; which
church Richard his predecessor, bishop before him of Coventry, had
begun.

The Frenchmen about this time again prepared themselves towards
Provence, to war against the foresaid Reimund, earl of Toulouse, and
to expel him out of his possessions. And hearing that he was in his
castle of Saracene, they made thither all their power, thinking there
to enclose and compass him about; but the earl, being privy of their
conspired purpose, set for them by the way, appointing certain
ambushments in woods, not so secretly as strongly, there to wait and
receive the coming of the Frenchmen, and to give them their welcome.
Thus when the French were entered the wood, the earl, with his train
of well-armed and able warriors, suddenly did fly upon them unawares,
and gave them a bitter meeting, so that in that conflict five hundred
of the French soldiers were taken, and many slain.

The same year the king, being at Portsmouth, had assembled together
all his nobility, earls, barons, and knights of England, with such an
army of horsemen and footmen as hath not been lightly seen, thinking
to recover again the countries of Normandy, of Gaunt, and other
possessions which King John his father before had lost. But when the
captains and marshals of the field should take shipping, there were
not half ships enough to receive the host. Whereupon the king was
vehemently inflamed with anger, laying all the fault in Hubert, the
lord chief justice, (who under the king had all the government of the
realm,) calling him old traitor, charging him that he should be the
let of his voyage, as he was before when he took of the French queen
five thousand marks to stay the king's journey into Normandy.
Insomuch that the rage of the king was so kindled against him, that,
drawing his sword, he made at him to run him through, had not the
earl of Chester, Ranulph, stopped the king. Hubert withdrew himself
away till the king's rage was past. This was about the time of
Michaelmas, at which time arrived Henry, earl of Normandy, in the
haven of Portsmouth in the month of October; who should have
conducted the king upon his allegiance and oath into Normandy. But he
with other of the king's army counselled the king not to take that
voyage towards winter, but rather to defer it to the Easter next
following; wherewith the king was stayed, and well contented, and
pacified again with Hubert the justice, &c.

Fabian recordeth this year the liberties and franchise of the city of
London to be confirmed by the king, and to every of the sheriffs to
be granted two clerks, and two officers, without any more.

Then followed the year 1230, in which upon the day of the conversion
of St. Paul, (as saith Paris,) as a great multitude of people for the
solemnity of the day were congregate in the temple of St. Paul, the
bishop then being at his mass, a sudden darkness with such thickness
of clouds fell in the air, that one man might not see another in the
church. After that, followed cracks of thunder and lightning so
terrible, leaving such a scent in the church, that the people,
looking for doomsday, thought no less but that the steeple and whole
church would have fallen upon their heads; insomuch that they running
out of the church, as people amazed, fell down together by thousands,
as men amazed, not knowing for the time where they were; only the
bishop and his deacon stood still at their mass, holding the altar
fast.

Of the death of Stephen Langton, and of the troublesome election of
the next archhishop, also of the costly and chargeable bringing in of
Richard to succeed in the room, which did cost the whole realm of
England the tenths of all their movables, sufficient hath been
declared before. This Richard, being now confirmed in his seat, came
to the king complaining of Hubert, the lord chief justice, oft
mentioned before, for withholding from him the castle and town of
Tunbridge, with the appurtenances to the same belonging, and other
lands of the earl of Clare late deceased. Which lands appertain to
the right of his seat, and to the church of Canterbury; for the which
the said earl with his ancestors were bound to do homage to him and
to his predecessors; and therefore he required the keeping of the
foresaid castle, with the domains thereof, to be restored to him. To
this the king answered again, that the said earl did hold of him in
capite, and that the castles being vacant of earls and barons, with
their heirs, did belong to his crown, till the lawful age of the said
heirs. The archbishop, when he could get no other answer of the king,
did excommunicate all such as invaded the foresaid possessions, with
all others that took their part, the king only excepted. Which done,
eftsoons he speedeth himself to Rome, there to prosecute his suit
before the pope. The king hearing thereof not long after sendeth up
Master Roger Cantelu, with certain other messengers, unto Rome
against the archhishop.

This Richard the archbishop, coming before the pope's presence,
beginneth first to complain of his king, for that he committed all
the affairs of his realm to the disposition and government of Hubert
his justice, using only his counsel, all his other nobles despised.

Against the said justice moreover he complained, laying to his
charge, first, that he had married a wife, being the kinswoman of her
whom he had married before; also that the said Hubert the justice did
invade, hold, and wrongfully detain such possessions as belonged to
the see and church of Canterbury.

As touching the wife of this Hubert, here is to be noted, that he
married the elder sister of the king of Scots; which, as it seemeth,
could be of no great kin to her whom he married before.

Further, he complaineth of certain bishops, his suffragans, who,
neglecting their pastoral function, did sit on chequer matters
belonging to the king, and exercised sessions and judgments of blood.

Over and besides, he complaineth of beneficed persons, and clerks
within orders, for having many benefices joined with cure of soul:
and that they also, taking example of the bishops, did intermeddle in
secular matters, and in judgments of laymen.

Of these and such other defaults he required redress to be had. The
pope weighing and considering the cause of the archbishop to stand
upon right and reason, (at leastwise seeming so to his purpose,)
commanded incontinent his petitions and requests to be despatched
according to justice.

Against these complaints of the archbishop the king's attorneys
alleged and defended in as much favour of the king as they might, but
could do no good. Such favour found the archbishop in the pope's
sight, being (as the story reporteth) of a comely personage, and of
an eloquent tongue, that he obtained whatsoever he asked. Thus the
archbishop, with all favourable speed being despatched at Rome after
his own will and desire, returned homeward; who, in his journey,
within three days of his setting forth, departed in the house of Grey
Friars at St. Gemmes, and so his cause departed with him; who,
winning his suit, lost his life; for whom it had been better, I
suppose, to have tarried at home. And here of him an end, with all
his complaints also.

After the death of this Richard, the monks of Canterbury (according
to the manner) address themselves to a new election; at which was
chosen Ralph Nevill, bishop of Chichester, who was the king's
chancellor, much commended in stories, to be a man faithful, upright,
and constant; which from the way of justice declined neither to the
right hand nor to the left, but was upright and sincere both in word
and deed. This Ralph (thus chosen of the monks) was presented unto
the king to be their archbishop, wherewith the king was right well
contented, and glad also of his election; and forthwith invested him
for archbishop of the church of Canterbury. But this investing of the
king was not enough, unless he should also be confirmed by the pope.
Wherefore the monks, ready to take their journey unto Rome, came to
the new archbishop, requiring his help for their expenses by the way,
and to know what service he would command them to the court of Rome.
But he, fearing in his mind the same not to be without some scruple
of simony and ambition, said he would not give a halfpenny; and,
holding up his hands to heaven, thus prayed, saying, "O Lord God, if
I shall be thought worthy to be called (although indeed unworthy) to
the seat and office of this church, so be it as thou sha1t dispose
it. But if otherwise, in this troublesome office of chancery, and
this my inferior ministry, whereunto I have been assigned, I shall
seem more necessary for this thy kingdom and people, I refuse not my
labour, thy will be done."

The monks beholding the constancy of the man, notwithstanding they
had of him no money, yet refused not their travel and journey to
Rome, to have their election confirmed by the pope's authority. The
pope inquiring of Simon Langton (brother of Stephen Langton,
archbishop of Canterbury, before mentioned) of the person of this
man, it was reported again to him by the said Simon, maliciously
depraving the good man behind his back, and declaring to the pope,
that he was a courtier, unlearned, hasty, and fervent in his doings, 
and such a one who, if he should be promoted to that dignity, would
go about, with the help of the king and of the whole realm, to remove
and bring the realm of England from under the yoke of the pope and of
the Church of Rome; and so to bereave the see of Rome of the tribute,
under which King John had once subjected himself and his realm, at
what time he yielded his crown to the hands of Pandulph the legate,
&c. With these and such other words Simon Langton falsely and
maliciously depraved the godly bishop. The pope hearing with one ear,
and crediting what he heard, without further inquisition made of the
other party accused, sendeth incontinent to the monks of Canterbury
to proceed in a new election, and to choose them another archbishop,
such as were a wholesome pastor of souls, profitable unto the Church
of England, and devout to the Church of Rome; and thus was the lawful
election of this good archbishop made frustrate, too good
peradventure to serve in that place whereunto he was elected.

After the repulse of this Ralph, the Canterbury monks, entering a new
election, agreed upon John their prior to he their metropolitan; who,
going up to Rome to have his election confirmed by the pope, was
three days together examined of the cardinals. And when they could
find no insufficiency in him, touching those things wherein they
tried him; yet notwithstanding the pope finding fault with his age
(he peradventute being more aged himself) repelled him, for that he
said he was too old and simple to sustain that dignity.

What was the age of this person, I find it not in the author
expressed; yet it is to be supposed, that he, which was able to take
that journey to Rome and home again, was not so greatly to be
complained of for his age, but that he was able sufficiently to take
pains in keeping the chair of Canterbury.

In the former parts of this story preceding, partly before hath been
declared, partly hereafter more shall appear, (Christ willing,) how
the church of England and commons of the same was grieved and
miserably afflicted by the intolerable oppressions of the pope; who
through his violent extortion had procured the best benefices to be
given unto his Romans, and the chief fruits of them to be reserved to
his own coffers. And what complaints thereof have been made ye heard
before; but yet no redress could be had. Such was the insatiable
avarice of these Roman rakehells, prowling and polling, wheresoever
they came, with their provisions and exactions out of measure, and
never satisfied. Insomuch that here in England, whosoever lacked,
their barns were always full of corn; and what penury soever pinched
the people, they were sure to have enough. And these importunate
exactions and contributions of these Italian harpies, besides the
Peter pence, besides the common tribute, daily more and more
increased, to the great grievance of the realm, insomuch that the
wealth of this land was almost cleanly sucked up, and translated to
the court of Rome. Neither was the king ignorant hereof, but could
not help the matter. Wherefore it was devised by some of the nobles
(as appeareth in the story of Parisiensis) this foresaid year, A.D.
1231, that certain letters, under the pretended colour of the king's
authority, should be sent abroad, willing and commanding; that such
corn and grain, with other revenues, as were taken up for the pope,
should be stayed, and fortheoming by a certain day in the said
letters appointed; the which letters are thought to proceed chiefly
by the means of Hubert, lord chief justice of England, who then, next
under the king, ruled the most affairs of the realm. The words and
contents of the letters be these.

"After divers and sundry griefs and oppressions which this realm, as
you know, hath sustained by the Romanists, and yet doth, as well to
the prejudice of the king himself, as also of the nobility of the
same, concerning the advowsons of their churches, and about their
tithes; who also go about to take from the clerks and spiritual men
their benefices, and to bestow them upon their own nation and
countrymen, to the spoil and confusion both of us and our realm; we
therefore by our common consents have thought good, although very
late, now yet, rather than any longer to suffer their intolerable
oppressions and extortions, to resist and withstand the same. And by
the taking from them their benefices through all England, in like
manner to cut short and bridle them, as they had thought to have kept
under and bridled others; whereby they may desist any longer to
molest the realm. Wherefore we straitly charge and command you, that,
as touching the farming of their churches, or else the rents
belonging to them, which either you have presently in your hands, or
else do owe unto the said Romnanists, that from henceforth you be no
more accountable to them, or else pay to them from henceforth the
same. But that you have the said your rents and revenues ready by
such a day, to pay and deliver unto our procurators thereunto by our
letters assigned; and that all abbots and priors have the same in a
readiness at the time appointed, in their own monasteries; and all
other priests, clerks, and laymen, at the churches of the Romanists,
there ready to pay. And further, know ye for certainty, that if ye
refuse thus to do, all that you have besides shall be by us burnt and
spoiled. And besides, look what danger we purpose shall fall upon
them, the same shall light upon your necks if you refuse thus to do.
Farewell."

When this was done, they sent their letters abroad by certain
soldiers thereunto appointed, to the which letters they had devised a
new seal with two swords engraved, and between the swords was
written, Ecce gladili duo, &c., Behold these two swords, ready to
take vengeance of all those that shall withstand the form and order
in these letters contained.

At that time, the sixteenth day before the kalends of January, about
the beginning of the year 1232, there was kept at St. Albans a great
consistory of abbots, priors, archdeacons, with divers both of the
nobility and clergy, by the pope's commandment, for the celebration
of a divorce between the countess of Essex and her husband. At the
breaking up of which consistory, when every man was about to depart
thence, there was a certain clerk, whose name was Cincius, a Roman,
and also a canon of Paul's in London, taken by some of the said
university not far off from St. Albans, and was carried away from his
company by the soldiers. But Master John, archdeacon of Norwich, a
Florentine, hardly escaping from that company, got to London, where
he hid himself; and durst not be seen. Cencius, after five weeks,
when they had well emptied his bags, was safely sent again without
any more hurt to London.

Not long after this, about the beginning of January, the barns of a
certain beneficed man, a Roman, and parson of Wingham, being full of
corn, were broke up by a like company of armed soldiers, and the corn
brought out to be sold and given away to the poor people. The farmer
seeing this, and not able to resist, complaineth to the sheriff of
the shire of this injury done to his master, and of breaking the
king's peace; whereupon the sheriff sent certain of his men to see
what was done. Who coming to the empty barns, and there finding the
foresaid soldiers to them unknown, who had sold away the most part of
the corn upon easy price, and some for charity had given to the
poverty of the country about, required of them what they were, that
so durst presume to break the king's peace. Whom the other then
called secretly apart, and showed them the king's letters patents,
(pretending at least the king's name and seal,) wherein was forbidden
that no man should presume to stop or let them in that purpose.
Whereof the sheriff's servants being certified, quietly returned from
whence they came.

This coming to the knowledge of Roger, bishop of London, he (with the
assistance of other bishops) proceedeth in solemn excommunication,
first, against them that robbed Cincius the Roman; then of them which
spoiled the barns of the parson of Wingham, another Roman; thirdly,
he excommunicated them that forged the letters and seal of the king
above specified.

Neither yet, for all this, did that so cease, but the same year,
about Easter next following, all the barns in England, which were in
the hands of any Roman or Italian, were likewise wasted, and the corn
sold to the best commodity of the poor commons. Of the which great
alms were distributed, and many times money also with corn together
was sparsed for the needy people to gather up. Neither was there any
that would or durst stand against them. As for the Romans and
Italians themselves, they were stricken in such fear, that they hid
themselves in monasteries and cells, not daring to complain of their
injuries received; but held it better to lose rather their goods than
to lose their lives. The authors and workers of this feat were to the
number of fourscore armed soldiers; of whom the principal captain was
one naming himself William Withers, surnamed Twing.

This coming to the pope's knowledge, he was not a little stirred
therewith, and sendeth his letters immediately to the king upon the
same, with sharp threatenings, and imperious commandments, charging
him for suffering such villany within his realm, straitly enjoining
him, under pain of excommunication, to search out the doers hereof
with all diligence, and so to punish them that all others by them may
take example. Likewise he sendeth the same charge to Peter, bishop of
Winchester, and to the abbot of St. Edmund, to inquire in the south
parts. Also to the archbishop of York, and to the bishop of Durham,
and to Master John, canon of York, a Roman, to inquire in the north
parts for the said malefactors, and, after diligent inquisition made,
to send up the same to Rome, there needs to appear before him, &c.

Thus, after earnest inquisition made of all parties, and witnesses
sworn and examined, many were found culpable in the matter, some that
were factors, some that were consenters, of whom some were bishops
and chaplains unto the king, some archdeacons and deans, with other
soldiers and laymen. Among whom certain sheriffs and under-sheriffs,
with their servitors under them, were apprehended and cast into
prison by the king. Many for fear fled and escaped away, who being
sought for could not be found; but the principal of this number (as
is aforesaid) was supposed to be Hubert, lord chief justice; who,
both with the king's letters and his own, fortified the doers
thereof, that no man durst interrupt them. Moreover, in the same
society of them which were noted in these doings, was the same Robert
Twing above mentioned, a comely young man and a tall soldier; who, of
his own voluntary accord, with five other servitors, whom he took
with him abroad to work that feat, came unto the king, openly
protesting himself to be the author of that deed doing, and said he
did it for hatred of the pope and the Romans, because that by the
sentence of the bishop of Rome, and fraudulent circumvention of the
Italians, he was bereaved of the patronage of his benefice, having no
more to give but that one; wherefore, to be revenged of that injury,
he enterprised that which was done; preferring rather justly to be
excommunicated for a season, than to be spoiled of his benefice for
ever. Then the king, and other executors of the pope's commandment,
gave him counsel, that seeing he had so incurred the danger of the
pope's sentence, he should offer himself to the pope to be absolved
of him again, and there to make his declaration unto him, that be
justly and canonically was possessed of that church. The king
moreover with him sent his letters testimonial unto the pope,
witnessing with the said soldier, and instantly desiring the pope in
his behalf that he might with favour be heard. At the request whereof
Pope Gregory afterwards both released him of the sentence, and
restored unto him his patronage, writing unto the archbishop of York,
that he might again enjoy the right of his benefice in as ample
manner as he did before it was taken from him.

Hubert de Burgh, lord chief justice, being one of them which held
against the Romish priests, as is afore signified, was therefore not
a little noted of the bishops, who, to requite him with the like
despite again, (after their accustomed manner of practice,) went
about by subtle working to shake him out of the king's favour. And
first cometh Peter, bishop of Winchester, to the king, grievously
complaining of certain about the king; but especially of the foresaid
Hubert, the king's justice; insomuch that he caused him to be removed
from his office; notwithstanding he had the king's seal and writing
for the perpetuity of the same, and procured Stephen Segrave to be
placed in his function. And after a few days the king, more and more
incensed against him, called him unto account of all the treasure
which he was countable for by his exchequer office; also of all such
debts by him due from the time of his father till his time; also of
all the lordships which were in the possession of William, earl of
Pembroke, chief justice before him. Item, of the liberties which he
did hold at that time in forests, warrens, shires, and other places,
how they were kept, or how they were made away. Of prizes likewise,
also of losses committed through his negligence, and of wastes made
contrary to the king's profit, of his liberties, how he did use them.
Item, of injuries and damages wrought against the clerks of Rome and
other Italians, and the pope's legates, for the redress whereof he
would never adjoin his counsel, according as pertained to his office,
being then chief justice of England. Also of scutages, gifts,
presents, escapes of prisoners. Item, of maritages which King John
committed to his keeping at the day of his death, and which were also
in his time committed unto him. To these Hubert answered, that he had
King John's own hand to show for his discharge, who so approved his
fidelity that he never called him to any, but clearly discharged him
from all such counts. Whereunto answered again the bishop of
Winchester, saying, The charter of King John hath no force after the
death of him, but that ye may now be called to a reckoning of this
king for the same.

Over and besides these, other greater objections were laid to his
charge by the king; as for sending and writing unto the duke of
Austria that he might marry his daughter, to the prejudice of the
king and of the realm, dissuading that she might not be given to him.
Item, for counselling the king not to enter into Normandy with his
army, which he had prepared for the recovery of lands there belonging
to his right, whereby great treasure was there consumed in vain.
Item, for corrupting the daughter of the king of Scots, whom King
John his father committed unto his custody for him to marry. Item,
for stealing from him a precious stone, which had a virtue to make
him victorious in war; and for sending the same unto Leoline, prince
of Wales: and that, by his letters sent to the said Leoline, William
Brewer, a nobleman, was caused there traitorously to be hanged, &c.
These, with other crimes, (whether true or false,) were suggested to
the king against the said Hubert by his adversaries; whereunto he was
required to answer by order of law. Hubert then, seeing himself in
such a strait, refused to answer presently, but required respite
thereunto, for that the matters were weighty which the king objected
to him, which was granted to him till the fourteenth day of
September; but in the mean time, Hubert, being in fear of the king,
fled from London to the priory of Merton. And thus Hubert, who
before, for the love of the king, and defence of the realm, (saith
mine author,) had got the hatred of all the nobles of England, now
being out of the king's favour, was destitute of comfort on every
side, save only that Lucas, archbishop of Dublin, with instant
prayers and tears laboured to the king for him. By this example, and
many like, is to be seen how unstable and variable a thing the favour
of mortal and mutable princes is, to teach all such as have to do
about princes how to repose and plant their trust, not in man, but in
their Lord God, by him to find help in Christ, the true Prince of all
princes, which never faileth. By like example was Clito served of
King Alexander, Joab of King David, Belisarius of Justinian, Harpagus
of Astiages, Cromwell of King Henry, with innumerable more, which in
histories are to be found.

When the day was come that this Hubert should answer, keeping amongst
the monks of Merton, he durst not appear. Then was it signified unto
him from the king, that he should come up and appear in the court,
there to answer to his charge. Whereunto he answered again, that he
misdoubted the king's anger, and therefore he did fly to the church,
as the uttermost refuge to all such as suffer wrong, from whence he
would not stir, till he heard the king's wrath to be mitigated
towards him. With this the king, moved and sore displeased, directeth
his letters in all haste to the mayor of London, commanding him at
the sight thereof to muster and take up all the citizens that could
bear harness in the city, and to bring to him by force of arms the
foresaid Hubert, either quick or dead, out of Merton. Whereupon the
mayor immediately, causing the great bell to be rung, assembled
together the people of London; and opening before them the king's
letters, commanded them to prepare and arm themselves in all
readiness to the executing of the king's will and message.

The citizens hearing this were therewith right glad and ready, for
they were all in great hatred with Hubert, because of the execution
of Constantine their citizen afore mentioned. Notwithstanding,
certain of the citizens, namely, Andrew Bukerell, John Travers, and
others more, men of more grave and sage discretion, wisely pondering
with themselves what inconvenience might rise hereof, went in haste
to the bishop of Winchester, lying then in Southwark, and, waking him
out of his sleep, desired him of his counsel in that so sudden and
dangerous distress, declaring unto him what peril might thereby
ensue, as well to the church of Merton as also to the city, by the
fury of the inordinate and fierce multitude, which will hardly be
bridled from robbing and spoiling, neither will spare shedding of
blood, &c. Unto whom again the bloody bishop gave this bloody counsel
(saith Matthew Paris): Dangerous it is, (quoth he,) both here and
there; but yet see that you obey and execute the precept of the king,
I counsel you plainly. At the which counsel of the bishop they, being
amazed, went with an ill will about the business enjoined. But the
people, inflamed with hatred, gladly coveted to be revenged, and to
shed the blood of the said Hubert.

The cause why Peter, bishop of Winchester, was so cruelly set against
the justice, was partly for the damages he had done to the Roman
priests, as before is touched; partly also for the old grudge,
because the king, coming to his lawful age before, (through the
counsel of this Hubert,) loosed himself from the government of the
said bishop, who had him then in custody. And thus rose up the grudge
and displeasure of this bishop towards him.

On the next morrow, the Londoners, issuing out.of the city, to the
number of twenty thousand, set forth toward the abbey of Merton,
where Hubert was lying prostrate before the altar, commending himself
to God.

In the mean season, while the citizens were in their journey, raging
against the poor earl of Kent, it was suggested to the king, by
Ralph, bishop of Chiehester, and lord chancellor, that it was
dangerous to excite up the vulgar and unruly multitude, for fear of
sedition; lest peradventure the rude and heady people, being stirred
up, will not so soon be brought down again, when the king would have
them. Moreover, what shall be said (quoth be) among the Frenchmen and
other nations, which of great things love to make them greater, and
of evil things to make them worse than they are? but thus jestingly
and mockingly: See what a kind bird is the young king of England,
which seeketh to devour his old nurse, under whose wings he had been
brought up and nourished in his youth. And thus the king, by the
persuasion hereof, changing his counsel, sent in all hasty wise after
the army again, willing them to retract their journey, and to retire.
And thus the Londoners (although much against their wills) returned
home, missing of their purpose. Wherein is to be observed another
notable example of God's working providence. For when the king (saith
the history) had sent by two messengers or pursuivants to revoke and
call back again the army of the Londoners, going with greedy minds to
shed the blood of the innocent justice, one of the messengers,
posting with all speed possible with the king's letters, overtook the
army; and coming to the foreward where the captains were, by virtue
of the king's letters stayed their course and bloody purpose, whereby
they could proceed no further. But the other messenger, crafty and
malicious, bearing hatred to the said Hubert, and rather wishing him
to be slain than to be delivered, lingered by the way of purpose
(although being commanded to make haste); and when he came, went only
but to the middle sort; more like a messenger meet to serve a dead
man's errand, than to serve the turn of them which be alive. And so
in like manner by the just hand of God it fell upon him. For the same
messenger, stumbling with his horse, riding but a soft or foot pace,
and rather walking than riding, fell down backward from his
horseback, and there brake his neck, and died. This merciful message
of the king was (as is said) sent by the instigation of Ralph, bishop
of Chichester, lord chancellor, a virtuous and a faithful man, and
one that could skill to have compassion on the miseries of men. Of
whom was declared before, that he, being elected archbishop of
Canterbury, would not give one halfpenny to their expenses by the
way, to get his election confirmed by the pope; and afterward by the
said pope was defeated and frustrated of his election, as relation
was made afore. And thus, through God's providence, by the means of
the king's letters the army returned, and Hubert's life, contrary to
his expectation, was preserved.

After this, the archbishop of Dublin with much labour and great suit
entreated and obtained of the king to grant unto the said Hubert
respite till the twelfth day of January, to provide himself of his
answer to such things as were commenced against him. Then Hubert,
trusting to enjoy some safety by the king's permission to him
granted, to breathe himself a little and to walk abroad, took his
journey towards St. Edmundsbury, where his wife was; and, passing
through the country of Essex, was inned there in a certain town
belonging to the bishop of Norwich. Whereof, when the king was
certified, fearing lest he would raise up some commotion in the
realm, sendeth in hasty anger after him Sir Godfred Crancombe,
knight, with three hundred men; commanding, under pain of hanging,
that they should apprehend him, and bring him to the Tower of London;
which commandment to accomplish there lacked no haste. Hubert, having
intelligence of their coming, (rising out of his bed naked as he
was,) ran unto the chapel standing near unto the inn, where he
holdeth with the one hand the cross, with the other hand the
sacrament of the Lord's body. Then Godfred, with his foresaid armed
soldiers, entering into the chapel, willed him to come out. Which
when he would not, with violent hands he drew him out of the chapel;
and taking the cross and the sacrament out of his hands, fast bound
him with fetters and gyves under the horse's belly, and brought him,
as they were commanded, to the Tower. And so certifying the king what
they had done, (who then tarried up waking for them,) he rejoiced not
a little thereat, and went merry to his bed.

The next morrow following after, Roger, bishop of London, having
knowledge how and in what order he was taken violently out of the
chapel, cometh unto the king, blaming him boldly for violating the
peace of holy church, and protested that unless the party were loosed
again, and sent to the chapel from whence he was drawn, he would
enter sentence of excommunication against all the deed-doers.

The king, as he did not deny his transgression herein, so he sendeth
him (albeit against his will) out of the Tower unto the said chapel
again, and by the same soldiers which brought him out before. Which
done, he giveth in strait charge and commandment, under pain of
hanging, to the sheriffs of Hertford and of Essex, that they, in
their own persons, with the strength of both shires, should watch and
compass about the chapel, and see that the said Hubert in no wise
might escape. Which commandment of the king was accomplished with all
diligence. But Hubert took all this patiently, and continued in the
chapel, praying both night and day, and commending his cause unto the
Lord; whom he desired so to deliver him from that instant danger, as
he always sought the king's honour by his faithful and trusty
service. And as he continued in his prayer, so the king, continuing
in his rage, commanded that no man should entreat for him, or make
any mention of him in his presence. Notwithstanding yet Lucas,
archbishop of Dublin, his true and almost only friend, ceased not to
pray and weep to the king for him, desiring the king at least to
intimate to him what he purposed should be done with Hubert.
Whereunto the king answering, said, that of these three things one he
should choose, whether he would abjure the realm of England for ever,
or be condemned unto perpetual prison, or else confess himself openly
to be a traitor. But Hubert hereunto said, that he would choose none
of these articles, as who knew himself neither guilty, nor worthy of
any such confusion; but, to satisfy somewhat the mind of the king, he
would be contented to depart the realm for a season, but to abjure
the realm he would not so do.

In this mean time it befell that Ranulph, earl of Chester and of
Lincoln, one of his sorest enemies, died. Hubert all this while
remained in the chapel enclosed and guarded about with the power (as
is said) of two shires, and so continued, till, at length, by the
commandment of the king, his two servitors, which ministered unto him
within the chapel, were taken from him. Then Hubert, seeing no other
remedy, but there to starve for famine, offered himself of his own
accord to the sheriffs, saying that he would put himself rather in
the king's mercy, than there desperately to perish for hunger. And so
was he taken, and, being fast bound in fetters, was brought again,
and clapped, by the king's commandment, in the Tower of London.

Not long after this, word was brought unto the king by certain, that
the said Hubert had much treasure lying in the house of the new
templars in London. Whereupon the king, to try out the truth thereof,
sendeth for the prior or master of the house; who, not daring to
deny, confessed that there was indeed treasure brought into the
house, but the quantity and number thereof he could not tell. The
king, desirous to seize upon the treasure, required and charged the
master with his brethren, with threatening words, to bring forth the
treasure to him, saying that it was taken and stolen out of his
treasury. But they answered again, that the treasure was committed
with trust and faith unto their hands, and therefore they neither
would nor ought to let it go out of their hands, being trusted
withal, without the assent of him which committed the same unto them.
When the king could get no other answer at their hands, neither durst
show any further violence against them, he sendeth unto Hubert in the
Tower, requiring of him the foresaid treasures. To whom he, answering
again mildly, yielded both himself, his treasures, and all that ever
he had, unto the king's will and pleasure; and so sending word unto
the master and brethren of the temple, willeth them to take all the
keys, and deliver the goods with all that there was unto the king;
who, receiving the same, and taking an inventory of that which was
received, caused it to be brought unto his treasury; whereof the
number, both of the plate, of coin, and of the jewels, was of price
unknown. The enemies of Hubert, supposing thereby to take advantage
against him to bring him to his end, came with open complaint unto
the king, crying out against Hubert, that he was a thief, a traitor,
and a robber of the king's treasure, and therefore by right was
worthy to be hanged; and thus cried his accusers daily in the king's
ear. But the hearts of kings (saith the wise man) are in the hands of
the Lord, to be ruled, not after man's will, but as it pleaseth God
to direct them. And so this king, having now his will and fill upon
poor Hubert, and somewhat coming more unto himself, answered again in
this wise, that there was no such need to deal so straitly with him,
who from the time of his youth first served mine uncle, King Richard,
then my father King John, in whose service, (as I heard say,) beyond
the seas, he was driven to eat his horse, and in my time hath stood
so constantly in defence of the realm against foreign nations, who
kept the castle of Dover against King Louis, and vanquished the
Frenchmen upon the seas, also at Bedford and at Lincoln hath done
such service. And though against me he hath dealt any thing untruly,
which yet is not evidently proved, yet he shall never be put by me to
so villanous a death. I had rather be counted a king foolish and
simple than to be judged a tyrant or seeker of blood, especially of
such as have served me and mine ancestors in many perils so
dangerously, weighing more the few evils, which yet be not proved,
than so many good deserts of his evident and manifest service done
both to me and to the whole realm, &c. And thus the king, somewhat
relenting to poor Hubert, his old servant, granted unto him all such
lands as he had given by King John his father, and whatsoever else he
had by his own purchase.

Thus Hubert, after long trouble, a little cheered with some piece of
comfort, set Laurence, his trusty friend, that never left him, one
that belonged to St. Albans, to be his steward and overseer of those
possessions granted unto him by the king. And shortly upon the same,
after the king's mind was seen thus something to relent, the envy
also of the nobles being now partly satisfied, began to turn to
mercy; insomuch that four earls, to wit, Earl Richard, the king's
brother, William, earl of Warreine, Richard, earl marshal, and
William, earl of Ferers, became sureties to the king for him. Upon
whose surety he was transferred to the castle of Devizes, where he
was under the keeping of four soldiers by them appointed, having the
liberty of that castle. But the bishop of Winchester, who always
hunted after the life of Hubert, craftily cometh unto the king, and
desireth the custody of the castle, making no mention of Hubert, to
the intent that by the keeping thereof he might the sooner despatch
him. Hubert, having thereof some inkling, breaketh the matter to two
of his servants, who, with compassion tendering his misery, watched
their time, (the keepers being asleep,) and conveyed him by night on
their backs, fettered as he was, into the parish church of the town, 
and there remained with him. The keepers, when they missed their
prisoner, were in great perplexity; and after diligent search finding
him at length where he was in the church, with violent force drew him
from thence to the castle again. For the which injury to the church
the bishop of Sarum, understanding the order of the matter, cometh to
the castle where the keepers were, and required that Hubert should be
brought again into the church from whence he was taken. Which, when
the keepers denied to do, saying they would rather he should hang
than they, then the bishop gave sentence of excommunication against
them. Which done, he, with the bishop of London, and other bishops,
goeth immediately unto the king, complaining of the injury done unto
Hubert, and especially of the contumely against holy church; neither
would they leave the king before they had obtained that he should be
reduced again into the church; and so he was. It was not long after,
but the king in great displeasure sendeth to the sheriff of the shire
to keep him well watched in the church, till either he came forth, or
there perished with famine.

It befell, in the mean season, that great dissension rose between the
king and the nobles of the realm, by reason whereof Hubert was taken
and carried away by Richard, earl marshal, into Wales, and there
remained until the king at length was reconciled with his nobles, and
so received (with the rest) the said Hubert again into his favour. Of
the which dissension more shall be showed (Christ willing) hereafter.

As the beginning of this trouble of Hubert first sprang of vexing the
pope's barns; so likewise Roger, bishop of London, suspected for the
same cause, was forced to travel up to Rome, there to purge himself
before the pope. Where after much money consumed and robbed also by
the way, he got nothing else, but lost his labour, and so came home
again. Who then, doing the part of a good bishop, after his return
from Rome, attempted to expel and exclude out of his diocess all
those Italian usurers called, as beforesaid, Caursini. These
Caursinites, coming with the pope's legates into England, and lending
their money to religious houses, to colleges and churches, had their
debtors bound unto them in such sort as was much advantageable to
them, and much injurious to the other, as in the form of their
obligations in the story of Matthew Paris is largely expressed.
Against these Caursinites the bishop of London, being worthily
inflamed with zeal of justice, first with loving admonition went
about to reclaim them for the wealth of their souls, afterward with
sharp words began to charge them. But they, disregarding Christian
counsel, and despising the bishop's threatenings, would not leave the
sweetness of their occupation. Wherefore the bishop, proceeding unto
the sentence of excommunication, precisely and distinctly charged
them to depart his diocess. But they again, being confident and
imboldened upon the pope's defence, not only set at light his
excommunication, but also wrought such ways with the pope, that they
caused the said bishop of London, being both aged and sickly, to be
cited peremptorily to appear beyond the seas, there to answer to such
objections as they should infer against him. And thus the bishop,
minding rather to cover than to open the faults of the church, and
partly being let with infirmity and age, was compelled to let the
cause fall.

And thus much of the pope's merchants here in England, which were not
so busy here for their part, but the pope, the great master of these
merchant usurers, was as busy for his. And although his barns here in
England were destroyed, and his bank something decayed, yet he
thought to win it up another way; for he proclaimed the same year a
general visitation through all the religious houses, exempt or not
exempt, universally pertaining to his jurisdiction; where, by the
cruel dealing of the visitors, many were compelled to appeal and to
travel up to Rome, to the great expenses of their money, and filling
the pope's coffers. But as touching this visitation, to make short,
(saith the story,) it tended not to any reformation so much as to the
deformation of universal order. While all they, which before through
all parts of the world followed only the rule of Benedict, now,
through new-devised constitutions, are found in all places so divided
and diverse, that of all monasteries, and other churches of religion,
scarce may two be found which do agree in one rule and institution of
life.

All this while that Hubert above mentioned was secluded from the
king, Peter, bishop of Winchester, bare all the rule, and above all
other alone was accepted. This bishop being in such principal favour
with the king, as by whose counsel all things were administered,
removed the natural servitors that were Englishmen out of their
offices, and placed other strangers, namely, of Pictavia and of other
countries, in their rooms. Among whom was thrust out William, under
marshal, which supplied the room of Richard, great lord marshal of
England; for the which cause the said Lord Richard was mightily
offended. Also Walter, treasurer of the king's house, was not only
expelled, but also merced at a hundred pounds, and put from all his
holds and munitions, which he had by the king's patent granted to
him.

Moreover, by the counsel of the said bishop of Winchester, all the
old counsellors, as well bishops as other earls and barons, and all 
the nobles, were rejected from the king in such sort, that he would
hear and follow no man's counsel, but only the said Peter, bishop of
Winchester, and his cousin Peter de Rivallis. Whereby it came to
pass, that all the greatest holds and munitions in the realm were
taken from the old keepers, and committed to the custody of the said
Peter. Then the bishop of Winchester, to plant and pitch himself more
strongly in the king's favour, adjoined to his fellowship Stephen
Segrave, succeeding in the place of Hubert the justice: also Robert
Paslew, who had the keeping of the treasure under the aforesaid Peter
Rival. So by these three all the affairs of the realm were ordered.
Moreover, to make their party more sure, by them it was provided,
that soldiers and servitors from beyond the sea, as Pictavians and
Britons, were sent for, to the number of two thousand, which were
placed partly about the king, partly were set in castles and holds
within the realm, and had the oversight and government of shires and
baronies, who then oppressed the nobles of the land, accusing them to
the king for traitors; whom the simple king did lightly believe,
committing to them the custody of his treasures, the sitting in
judgments, and the doing in all things. And when the nobles thus
oppressed came to complain of their injuries to the king, by the
means of the bishop of Winchester. their cause was nothing regarded;
insomuch that the said Winchester moreover accused certain bishops
also to the king, so that he did flee and shun them as open traitors
and rebels.

These things standing thus out of order, Richard, the noble marshal
of England, with others of the nobles joining with him, seeing these
oppressions and injuries daily growing contrary to the laws and
wealth of the realm came to the king, and blamed him for retaining
such perverse counsel about him of the Pictavians and other
foreigners, to the great prejudice of his natural subjects, and of
the liberties of the realm; humbly desiring and beseeching him, that
he, with as much speed as might be, would reform and redress such
excesses, whereby the whole realm seemed to lie in danger of
subversion. Otherwise, if be refused to see correction thereof, he,
with other peers and nobles, would withdraw themselves from his
council, so long as he maintained the society of those foreigners and
strangers about him.

To this Peter Winchester, answering again, said that the king right
well might call unto him what foreigners and strangers him listed,
for the defence both of his kingdom and of his crown; and what number
of them he would, as by whom he might be able to bridle his proud and
rebellious subjects, and so to keep them in awe and good order. When
the earl and the nobles could get no other answer of him, in great
perturbation they departed, promising among themselves, in this case,
which so touched the state of the whole realm, they would constantly
join together to the parting of their life.

After this, the. foresaid Peter, bishop of Winchester, with his
complices, ceased not by all means to inflame the king's heart to
hatred and contempt of his natural people, whom they so vehemently
perverted, that he, counting them no other than his enemies, sought
by all diligence the utter destruction of them, sending daily for
more garrisons of the Pictavians, that in short space they
replenished well near the whole land, whose defence the king only
trusted unto; neither was any thing disposed in the realm, but
through the guiding of this Peter and of the Pictavians.

The king, thus guarded and strengthened with these foreign aliens and
strangers, proclaimed a parliament to be holden at Oxford, where the
nobles were waited to be present. They, considering the indignation
of the king conceived, would not appear. Again they were required the
first, second, and third time to present themselves. The assembly
proceeded, but they came not, for whom the king looked. In this
assembly or parliament, it was plainly told the king by a Dominic
friar, preaching before him, that unless be removed from him the
bishop of Winchester and Peter Rival, his kinsman, he should not,
neither could, long enjoy peace in his kingdom. This, although it was 
bluntly spoken of the friar against the bishop, yet this remedy he
had, the friar had nothing to lose. Yet was there another chaplain of
the court, who, perceiving the king somewhat mitigated by the former
preaching, and after a court-like dexterity handling his matter,
being a pleasant conceited man, thus merrily came to the king, asking
a question, What was the thing most pernicious and dangerous of all
other things to them that travel by the seas? That, said the king, is
best known to such as travel in that kind of traffic. Nay, (saith
he,) this is easy to be told. The king demanding what it was,
Forsooth, (quoth he,) stones and rocks; alluding merrily (but yet
truly) to the bishop of Winchester, whose name and surname was Petrus
de Rupibus, for so petræ in Latin signifieth stones, and rupes rocks.
Notwithstanding, the king, either not perceiving the meaning, or not
amending the fault, again sendeth to his nobles to have them come and
speak with him at Westminster. But they, fearing some train to be
laid for them, refused to appear, sending plain words to the king by
solemn message, that his Grace without all delay should seclude from
him Peter, bishop of Winchester, and other aliens of Pietavia; or if
he would not, they, with the common assent of the realm, would
displace him with his wicked counsellors from his kingdom, and have
within themselves tractation for choosing a new king.

The king at the hearing of this message being mightily moved, partly
to fear, partly to indignation, especially having the late example of
King John his father before his eyes, was cast in great perplexity,
doubting what was best to be done. But Winchester with his wicked
counsel so wrought with the king, that he proceeded with all severity
against them; insomuch that in short time the sparkles of poisoned
counsel, kindling more and more, grew to sharp battle between the
king and Richard, earl marshal, with other nobles, to the great
disquietness of the whole realm. The which war before was
presignified by terrible thundering and lightning heard all England
over in the month of March, with such abundance of rain and floods
growing upon the same, as cast down mills, overcovered the fields,
threw down houses, and did much harm through the whole realm.

To prosecute here at large the whole discourse of this war between
the king and the earl marshal, which continued near the space of two
years, to declare all the parts and circumstances thereof, what
troubles it brought, what damages it wrought unto the whole realm,
what trains were laid, what slaughter of men, what waste of whole
countries ensued from Wales unto Shrewsbury, how the marshal joined
himself with Leoline, prince of Wales, how the Pictavians were almost
all slain and destroyed, how the king was distressed, what forgery
wily Winchester wrought by the king's letters to entrap the marshal,
and to betray him to the Irishmen, amongst whom he was at length
slain; all this I refer to other authors, who at large do treat of
the same. This is tobe noted and observed, (which rather pertaineth
to our ecclesiastical history,) to see what sedition and continual
disquietness was in those days among all Christian people almost,
being under the pope's catholic obedience; but especially, to mark
the corrupt doctrine then reigning, it is to be marvelled, or rather
lamented, to see the king and the people then so blinded in the
principal point and article of their salvation, as we find in
stories, which, making mention of a house or monastery of converts,
builded the same year by the king at London, do express in plain
words that he then did it for the redemption of his soul, of the soul
of King John his father, and for the souls of all his ancestors, &c.
Whereby may be understood in what palpable darkness of blind
ignorance the silly souls redeemed by Christ were then inwrapped,
which did not know nor yet were taught the right doctrine and first
principles of their redemption.

Mention was made a little before of dissolving the election of John,
prior of Canterbury, which was chosen by the monks to be archbishop
of the said church of Canterbury, but by the pope was defeated. After
whom one John Blund was elected, who travelling up to Rome this year,
A.D. 1233, to be confirmed of the pope, was also repealed and
unelected again, for that it was thought in England, and so
complained of to the pope, that he had received of Peter, bishop of
Winchester, a thousand marks, and had another thousand promised him
of the said Winchester. Who by his money thought to make him of his
side, and also wrote unto the emperor to help forward his promotion
in the court of Rome. Notwithstanding, both he with his giving, and
the other with his taking of bribes, were both detected and
disappointed of their purpose. For the pope, hating then the emperor,
for the same cause admitted not the election; pretending the cause,
for that he was proved to hold two benefices without his 
dispensation. After whom, by the commandment of the pope, one Edmund,
canon of Salisbury, was ordained archbishop, and had his pall sent to
him from the pope. Which Edmund after for his virtues was canonized
of the popish monks there for a saint, and called St. Edmund. About
which time also Robert Grosthead was made bishop of Lincoln.

This Edmund, accompanied with other bishops, during this trouble
between the king and his nobles, being in council at Westminster, in
the year next ensuing, which was 1234, came uttering their minds
boldly in the name of the lords, and declaring unto the king, as
became his faithful servants, that his counsel, which then he
followed, was not sound nor safe, but cruel and dangerous, both to
him and to the state of the realm, meaning the counsel of Peter
Winchester, and of Peter Rival, with other adherents.

1. First, for that they hate and contemn the English nation, calling
them traitors and rebels, and turning the king's heart from the love
of his natural subjects, and the hearts of them from him, as
appeareth by the earl marshal and others, sowing discord among them.

2. Item, by the said counsel, to wit, by the foresaid bishop and his
fellows, King John the king's father lost first the hearts of his
barons, after that lost Normandy, and afterwards other lands also,
and in the end wasted all his treasure, so that since that time the
regiment of England had never any quiet after.

3. By the said counsel also, in their time and memory, the kingdom of
England had been troubled and suspended, and in conclusion she that
was before the prince of provinces became tributary; and so war
ensuing upon the same, the said King John his father incurred great
danger of death, and at last was extinguished, lacking both peace of
his kingdom and of his own heart.

4. Item, by the said counsel the castle of Bedford was kept long time
against the king, to the great loss both of men and treasure, beside
the loss of Rupella, to the shame of the realm of England.

5. Moreover, through their wicked counsel, at this present, great
perturbation seemed to hang over the whole realm; for else if it had
not been for their counsel, and if that true justice and judgment
might have been ministered unto the king's subjects, these tumults
had never been stirred, and the king might have had his land
unwasted, and his treasure unconsumed.

6. Item, in that faith and allegiance, wherewith they were obliged
unto him, they protested unto him that they said his counsel was not
a counsel of peace, but of division and disquietness, to the end that
they which otherwise by peace could not aspire, by disturbing and
disheriting others might be exalted.

7. Item, for that all the castles, forts, munitions, also all the
officers of the exchequer, with all other the greatest escheats of
the realm, were in their hands, of the which if the king would demand
account, he should prove how true they were.

8. Item, for that neither by the king's seal nor commandment, except
it bare withal the seal of Peter Rival, almost any business of any
weight could be despatched in the realm, as though they counted their
king for no king.

9. Furthermore, by the foresaid counsel, the natural subjects and
nobles of the realm were banished the court, which was to be feared
would grow to some inconvenience, both to the king and to the realm;
forsomuch as the king seemed more to be on their side than they of
his, as by many evident conjectures may appear.

10. Item, it was not well to he taken and liked, the said counsel
standing of strangers and aliens, that they should have in their
power both the king's sister, and many other noblemen's daughters and
other women marriageable, with the kings wards and marriages, which
they bestowed and divided among themselves, and men of their
affinity.

11. Also the said counsel, regarding neither the laws nor liberties
of the realm, confirmed and corroborated by excommunication, did
confound and pervert all justice; wherefore it was to be feared that
they would run under excommunication, and the king also in
communicating with them.

12. Item, because they kept neither promise, nor faith, nor oath with
any person, neither did observe any instrument made never so formal
by law, nor yet did fear any excommunication; wherefore they were to
be left for people desperate, as which were departed from all truth
and honesty.

These things (said the bishops) we, as your faithful subjects before
God and men, do tell and advertise your Grace, desiring and
beseeching you, that you will remove and seclude from you such
counsel; and, as the custom is of all other kingdoms to do, that you
will so govern in like manner your kingdom by your own natural liege
people, and such as be sworn unto you of your own realm. For thus
(said they) in verity we denounce unto you, that unless in short time
you will see these things reformed, we, according to our duty, will
proceed by the censure of the church against you, and all others that
gainsay the same, tarrying no other thing, but only the consecration
of this our reverend archbishop.

These words of the bishops thus said and finished, the king required
a little time of respite, wherein to advise with himself about the
matter, saying that he could not in such a sudden remove from him his
council, before he had entered with them account of his treasure
committed to them; and so that assembly brake up.

It followed then after this communication so broken up, that the king
resorted to the parts of Norfolk, where, coming by St. Edmundsbury,
where the wife of Hubert the justice was, he being moved with zeal of
pity toward the woman, who very humbly behaved herself to the king,
did grant her eight manor places, which her busband before with his
money had purchased, being then in the custody and possession of
Robert Paslew, one of the king's new counsellors above specified. It
was not long after this, that Edmund the archbishop was invested and
consecrated in the church of Canterbury; and shortly after his
consecration, about the month of April, coming with his suffragans to
the place of council, where the king with his earls and barons was
assembled, he opened to him the cause and purpose of his coming, and
of the other prelates, which was to put him in remembrance of their
former talk had with him at Westminster; denouncing moreover to him
expressly, that unless with speed he would take a better way, and
fall to a peaceable and godly agreement with the true and faithful
nobles of his realm, he immediately, with the other prelates there
present, would pass with the sentence of excommunication against him,
and against all them that would be enemies to the same peace, and
maintainers of discord.

The king, after he heard the meaning of the bishops, with humble and
gentle language answered them again, promising to condescend to them
in all things. Whereupon within few days after the king, coming to
some better remembrance of himself, commanded the forenamed bishop of
Winchester to leave the court, and to return home to his bishopric,
there to attend unto the spiritual charge and care of his flock
committed to him. Moreover, he commanded Peter Rival, the bishop's
cousin, (some stories say his son,) who had then the disposing of all
the affairs of the realm, to render unto him his castles, and to give
account of all his treasures, whereof he had the keeping, and so to
void the realm; swearing moreover unto him, but for that he was
beneficed, and was within orders of the church, else he would have
caused both his eyes to be plucked out of his head.

He expelled likewise the Pictavians out of the court, and from the
custody of his munitions, sending them home into their country, and
bidding they should no more see his face. And thus the king, wisely
despatching himself of his wicked counsellors, first did send Edmund
the archbishop, with the bishops of Chester and of Rochester, into
Wales to Leoline, and to Richard, earl marshal, and others, to
entreat with them of peace. Also be received to his service again men
of his natural country, to attend about him, offering himself willing
to be ruled by the counsel of the archbishop and the bishops, by
whose prudence he trusted his realm should be reduced again to a
better quietness.

But in the mean time, while these things were doing in England, the
foresaid Richard, earl marshal, by the falsehood of the bishop of
Winchester, and Peter Rival forging the king's letters to the
Irishmen against him, and partly by the conspiracy of Gilbert de
Marisco, being circumvented by the Irishmen in war, and there taken
and wounded, was by them, through the means of this surgeon, slain.

Great slaughter the same time was of them which were called Catini,
about the parts of Almaine. These Catini were esteemed of Pope
Gregory and the papists to be heretics, but what their opinions were
I find it not expressed.

In like sort the Albigenses afore mentioned, accounted also of the
pope's flock to be heretics, with their bishops, and a great number
and company of them, were slain by the commandment of Pope Gregory at
the same time, in a certain plain in Spain.

How the archbishop of Canterbury, with other two bishops, were sent
into Wales for entreaty of peace, ye heard before. At whose return
again after the time of Easter, the king, going toward Gloucester to
meet them by the way, as he was in his journey at Woodstock, there
came messengers of Ireland, declaring to the king the death of
Richard, earl marshal, and the order thereof, through the forged
letters of Winchester and others; where at the king made great
lamentation and mourning, to the great admiration of all them that
were by, saying and complaining that he left not his like in all the
realm again.

After this, the king proceeding in his journey came to Gloucester,
where the archbishop, with the other bishops, coming to the king,
declared to him the form and condition of peace which they had
concluded with Leolin, which was this: If the king would be
reconciled before with the other nobles with whom he was confederate,
such as the king had banished out of his realm, to the end that the
concord might be the more firm between them. Thus (said they) was
Leolin contented, although with much ado and great difficulty, to
receive the league of peace, saying and protesting this unto them,
that he feared more the king's alms, than all the puissance both of
him and of all his clergy within England.

This done, the king there remaining with the bishops, directed his
letters to all the exiles and banished lords, and to all his nobles,
that they should repair to him about the beginning of June, at
Gloucester, promising to them his full favour, and reconcilement to
them and to their heirs; and that they should suspect no fraud
therein, they should have their safe conduct by the archbishop and
bishops.

Whereupon, through the mediation of the said archbishop and the
bishops, first cometh to the king Hubert, earl of Kent, offering
himself to the king's good will and favour. Whom the king with
cheerful countenance received and embraced, restoring him not only to
his favour, but also to his household and council, with his livings
and possessions, from which he had been disseized before. Then
Hubert, lifting up his eyes to heaven, gave praise and glory to God,
by whose gracious providence he, being so marvellously preserved from
so great distresses and tribulations, was again so happily reconciled
to the king and his faithful friends. After him in like sort came in
Gilbert Basset, a nobleman, Richard Suard, also Gilbert, the brother
of Richard, marshal, that was slain, which Gilbert recovered again
his whole inheritance, as well in England as in Ireland, doing his
homage to the king, and his service due for the same; to whom also
was granted the office of the high marshal court, belonging before to
his brother Richard.

In the same council or communication, continuing then at Gloucester,
the said Edmund, archbishop of Canterbury, bringing the forged
letters, wherein was betrayed the life of Richard, earl marshal,
sealed with the king's seal, and sent to the great men of Ireland,
read the same openly in the presence of the king and all the nobles.
At the hearing whereof the king, greatly sorrowing and weeping,
confessed there in truth, that being forced by the bishop of
Winchester and Peter Rival, he commanded his seal to be set to
certain letters presented unto him, but the tenor thereof he said and
swore he never heard. Whereunto the archbishop answering again,
desired the king to search well his conscience; and said, that all
they which were procurers or had knowledge of those letters were
guilty of the death of the earl marshal, no less than if they had
murdered him with their own hands.

Then the king, calling a council, sent his letters for the bishop of
Winchester, for Peter Rival, Stephen Segrave, and Robert Passelew, to
appear and yield account for his treasures unto them committed, and
for his seal by them abused. But the bishop and Rivall, keeping
themselves in the sanctuary of the minster church of Winchester,
neither durst nor would appear. Stephen Segrave, who succeeded after
Hubert the justice, and was of the clergy before, after became a
layman, and now, hiding himself in St. Mary's church in the abbey of
Leicester, was turned to a clerk again. Robert Passelew covertly hid
himself in a certain cellar of the new temple, so secretly that none
could tell where he was, but thought he was gone to Rome. At length,
through the aforesaid Edmund, archbishop of Canterbury, measures were
taken, that a remote day was granted by the king for them to answer.
At which day first appeared Peter Rival, then Stephen Segrave, after
him Robert Passelew, each of them severally one after another showed
themselves; but, not able to answer for themselves, like traitors
they were reproved, and like villains were sent away.

While peace thus between the king and the nobles was reconciled in
England, dissension and variance the same time and year began in
Rome, between the pope and the citizens of Rome. The cause was, for
that the citizens claimed by old custom and law, that the bishop of
Rome might not excommunicate any citizen of the city, nor suspend the
said city with any interdiction for any manner of excess.

To this the pope answered again, that he is less than God, but
greater than any man; ergo, greater than any citizen, yea, also
greater than king or emperor. And forsomuch as he is their spiritual
father, he both ought and lawfully may chastise his children when
they offend, as being subjected to him in the faith of Christ, and
reduce them into the way again when they stray out of course.

Moreover, the citizens allege again for themselves, that the
authorities of the city and senators do receive of the Church of Rome
yearly tribute, which the bishops of Rome were bound to pay to them,
both by new and also ancient laws. Of the which yearly tribute they
have been ever in possession before this present time of this Pope
Gregory the Ninth.

Hereunto the pope answered and said, that although the Church of Rome
in time of persecution, for their defence and cause of peace, was
wont to respect the head rulers of the city with gentle rewards, yet
ought not that now to be taken for a custom; for that custom only
ought to stand which consisteth not upon examples, but upon right and
reason.

Further and besides, the citizens said that they, at the commandment
of the senators, would appropriate their country with new and larger
limits, and enfranchise the same, being enlarged with fines and
borders.

To this the pope again made answer, that certain lordships, and
cities, and castles, be contained within the compass of the said
limits, as the city Viterbium, and Montcaster, which they presume to
appropriate within their precinct; but to ascribe to them, and usurp
that which pertaineth to others, is against right and justice.

For these and such other controversies rising between the pope and
the Romans, such dissension kindled, that the pope, with his
cardinals, leaving the city of Rome, removed to Perusium, (as partly
before is recited,) thinking there to remain and to plant themselves;
but the Romans prevailing against him, overthrew divers of his houses
in the city, for the which he did excommunicate them. The Romans
then, flying to the emperor, desired his aid and succour; but he,
belike to pleasure the pope, gathering an army, went rather against
the Romans. Then the pope's army, whose captains were the earl of
Toulouse, (to purchase the pope's favour,) and Peter, the aforesaid
bishop of Winchester, (whom the pope for the same end had sent for
from England, partly for his treasure, partly for his practice and
skill in feats of war,) and the emperor's host joined together, and,
bordering about the city of Rome, cast down the castles or mansions
belonging to the citizens round about the suburbs, to the number of
eighteen, and destroyed all their vines and vineyards about the city.
Whereat the Romans being not a little offended, burst out of the
city, with more heat than order, to the number of one hundred
thousand, as the story reporteth, to destroy Viterbium, the pope's
city, with sword and fire. But the multitude, being unordered and out
of battle-array, and unprovided for jeopardies, which, by the way,
might happen, fell into the hands of their enemies, who were in wait
for them, and of them destroyed a great number; so that on both parts
were slain to the view of thirty thousand; but the most part was of
the citizens. And this dissension, thus begun, was not soon ended,
but continued long after.



52. THE SCHISM BETWEEN THE ROMAN AND GREEK CHURCHES

By these and such other stories, who seeth not how far the Church of
Rome hath degenerated from the true image of the right church of
Christ, which, by the rule and example of the gospel, ought to be a
daughter of peace, not a mother of debate; not a revenger of herself,
nor a seeker of wars, but a forgiver of injuries, humbly and
patiently referring all revenge to the Lord; not a raker for riches,
but a winner of souls; not contending for worldly mastership, but
humbling themselves as servants; and not vicars of the Lord, but
jointly like brethren serving together, bishops with bishops,
ministers with ministers, deacons with deacons; and not as masters
separating themselves by superiority one from another, but briefly
communicating together in doctrine and counsel, one particular church
with another; not as a mother, one over another, but rather as a
sister church, one with another, seeking together the glory of
Christ, and not their own? And such was the Church of Rome first in
the old ancient beginning of her primitive state, especially while
the cross of persecution yet kept the bishops and ministers under in
humility of heart and fervent calling upon the Lord for help; so that
happy was that Christian then which with liberty of conscience only
might hold his life, how barely soever he lived. And as for the pride
and pomp of the world, as striving for patrimonies, buying of
bishoprics, gaping for benefices, so far was this off from them, that
then they had little leisure and less desire so much as once to think
upon them. Neither did the bishops then of Rome fight to be consuls
of the city, but sought how to bring the consuls unto Christ, being
glad if the consuls would permit them to dwell by them in the city.
Neither did they then presume so high to bring the emperors' necks
under their girdles, but were glad to save their own necks in any
corner from the sword of the emperors. Then lacked they outward
peace, but abounded with inward consolation, God's Holy Spirit
mightily working in their hearts. Then was one catholic unity of
truth and doctrine amongst all churches against errors and sects.
Neither did the east and west, nor distance of place, divide the
church; but both the east church and west church, the Greeks and
Latins, made all one church. And albeit there were then five
patriarchal sees appointed for order's sake, differing in regions,
and peradventure also in some rites one from another; yet all these
consenting to gether in one unity of catholic doctrine, having one
God, one Christ, one faith, one baptism, one Spirit, one Head, and
linked together in one bond of charity, and in one equality of
honour, they made altogether one body, one church, one communion,
called one catholic, universal, and apostolical church. And so long
as this knot of charity and equality did join them in one unity
together, so long the church of Christ flourished and increased, one
ready to help and harbour another in time of distress, as Agapetus
and Vigilius flying to Constantinople were there aided by the
patriarch; so that all this while neither foreign enemy, neither
Saracen, nor soldan, nor sultan, nor caliph, nor Corasmine, nor Turk,
had any power greatly to harm it.

But through the malice of the enemy this catholic unity did not long
continue, and all by reason of the bishop of Rome; who, not contented
to be like his brethren, began to extend himself and to claim
superiority above the other four patriarchal sees, and all other
churches in the world. And thus as equality amongst Christian bishops
was by pride and singularity oppressed, so unity began by little and
little to be dissolved, and the Lord's coat, which the soldiers left
whole, to be divided. Which coat of Christian unity, albeit of long
time it had been seam-ripped by the occasion aforesaid; yet,
notwithstanding, in some sort it held together in some mean
agreement, under subjection to the see of Rome, till the time of this
Pope Gregory the Ninth, A.D. 1230, at which time this rupture and
schism of the church brake out into a plain division, utterly
dissevering the east church from the west church upon this occasion.

There was a certain archbishop elected to an archbishopric among the
Grecians; who, coming to Rome to be confirmed, could not be admitted
unless he promised a great sum of money. Which when he refused to do,
and detested the execrable simony of the court of Rome, he made his
repair home again to his own country unconfirmed, declaring there to
the whole nobility of that land the case how it stood. For the more
confirmation whereof there were others also, which, coming lately
from Rome, and there had proved the same or worse, came in and gave
testimony to his saying. Whereupon all the churches of the Grecians,
the same time hearing this, departed utterly away from the Church of
Rome, which was in the days of this Pope Gregory the Ninth. Insomuch
that the archbishop of Constantinople, coming afterward to the
general Council at Lyons, there openly declared, that whereas
beforetime be had under him above thirty bishoprics and suffragans,
now he had not three; adding moreover, that all the Grecians, and
certain others, with Antioch and the whole empire of Romania, even to
the gates almost of Constantinople, were gone from the obedience of
the Church of Rome, &c.

By the occasion of which separation aforesaid of the Grecians from
Pope Gregory it happened shortly after, being the year of our Lord
1237, that Germanus, archbishop and patriarch of Constanti nople,
wrote to the said Pope Gregory the Ninth, humbly desiring him to
study and seek some means of unity, how the seamless coat of the Lord
Jesus, thus lamentably rent, not with hands of soldiers, but by
discord of prelates, may be healed again; offering this moreover,
that if he will take the pains to stir out, he for his part,
notwithstanding his old age and feeble body, would not refuse to meet
him in the midway, to the intent that the truth on both sides being
debated by the Scriptures, the wrong part may be reduced, the slander 
stopped, and unity reformed between them.

This request of the patriarch, as it was both godly and reasonable,
so it had been the bishop's part again with like humility to have
condescended to the same, and to have been glad with all his might to
help forward the reformation of Christian unity in the church of
Christ, and so to have showed himself the son of peace; but the proud
bishop of Rome, more like the son of discord and dissen sion,
standing still upon his majesty, refused thus to do; but writing
again answer to his letters with great disdain, seeking nothing else
but only how to advance his see above all other churches; and not
only that, but also shortly after sent forth his preaching friars to
move all Christians to take the sign of the cross, and to fight
against the Grecians, no otherwise than against the Turks and
Saracens; in somuch that in the isle of Cyprus many good men and
martyrs were slain for the same, as by the letters of the said
Germanus, patriarch of Constantinople, is to be seen.

The tenor of the which letter to the pope, with the pope's answer
again to him, being long and tedious to read, are extant in the
history of Mat. Parisiensis, there to be seen and found. The summary
effect whereof, notwithstanding, I thought here briefly to notify for
the simple and unlearned multitude, which, understanding not the
Latin, may hereby perceive the fault of this schism not so much to
rest in the Greek Church, as in the Church of Rome, as by the
contents of his letter may appear.

In the which letter the said Germanus, patriarch of Constantinople,
writing to Pope Gregory, first, after his reverent salutation and
preamble following upon the same, entering then towards the matter,
showeth the occasion of his writing, which was by five Observant
Friars repairing that way, whom he gently receiving into his house,
had conference with them touching this discord between the two
churches, how it might be reduced again to unity; and afterward
perceiving the said friars to make their journey towards Rome, he
thought therefore by them to write his letters. Wherein he first
lamenting this division in the house of God, and reciting the in
conveniences which come thereof, hy the example of Judah and Israel,
Jerusalem and Samaria, Cain and Abel, Esau and Jacob, also of other
such like, both private and public societies, where brother fighteth
against brother, like as amongst fishes the greater devoureth the
lesser; he proceedeth then further gently to exhort Pope Gregory to
the study of unity.

And forasmuch as the pope had accursed (belike) those churches of the
Greeks before, he therefore, taking his ground upon the words of St.
Paul, (Gal. i.,) where he accurseth every such person and persons,
whatsoever they be, either man or angel of heaven, that shall preach
any other gospel than hath been preached, willeth the pope to stand
with him upon the same ground of the apostle's curse; so that if the
stroke of that curse have lighted upon him or his churches, be
desireth him to show the wound, and to help to wipe away the blood,
to minister some spiritual plaster, to bind up the sore, and to save
his brethren from perishing which lay in danger, according to the
saying of the wise man, "A brotherly friend is tried in adversity."

"But if we (saith he) of the Greek Church be free from the stripe of
this curse of the apostle, and that you Italians and of the Latin
Church be stricken therewith, and lie thereby in danger of
destruction, I trust that you, through ignorance and wilful
obstinacy, will not so suffer yourselves to be separated from the
Lord, but rather will suffer a thousand deaths before, if it were
possible for a man so often to die.

"And as touching this great discord between us, if either contrariety
of doctrine, or swerving from the ancient canons, or diversity of
rites received of our forefathers, be any cause thereof, we here take
heaven and earth to witness, that we for our parts are ready, and
desire also, upon due trial of profound truth by God's word, and
invocation of the Holy Ghost, to join hands with you, or you to join
with us. But, to say the very truth, and to tell you plain, this we
suppose, that many mighty and noble potentates would sooner incline
to your obedience, were it not that they feared your unjust
oppressions, your insatiable exactions, and inordinate provisions,
wherewith you wring your subjects. By reason whereof have then
amongst us cruel wars, one fighting against another, desolation of
cities, bulls and interdictions set upon church doors, division of
brethren, and churches of the Grecians left without service, where
God should be praised. So that now only one thing lacketh, which I
believe to be predefined and appointed from above long before to us
Grecians, the time I mean of martyrdom, which also now hasteneth fast
upon us, that the tribunal of tyrants should be opened, and the seats
of torments be set, that the blood of martyrs should he spilled, and
we brought to the stage of martyrdom, to fight for the crown of
glory.

"This that I do speak, and wherefore I speak it, the noble island of
Cyprus doth already know and feel, which hath made many new martyrs,
and hath seen valiant soldiers of Christ, which of long time before,
passing by water and tears of sorrow, now at last have also passed
through fire, and so entered into the heavenly rest. How say you? be
these good and seemly, O holy pope, the successor of St. Peter the
apostle? Is this the bidding of that good Peter, the meek and humble
disciple of Christ? Doth he thus instruct the seniors and elders in
his Epistle, where he writeth in this wise: The elders which are
among you I beseech, which am also a fellow elder with them, and
witness of the sufferings of Christ, and also a partaker of the glory
that shall be opened; feed the flock of God which is amongst you,
having care and oversight of it, not of coaction, as compelled
against your wills, but willingly, of your own accord; not for filthy
lucre sake, but freely and heartily; neither as bearing dominion and
lordship over the church, but showing yourselves as an example to the
flock: and when the chief Pastor shall appear, you shall receive an
incorruptible crown of eternal glory, &c.? And this is the doctrine
of Peter, as they shall see which do not obey it. As for us, the
other part of the said Epistle is sufficient; wherein he willeth them
to rejoice which are in heaviness through manifold temptations, that
the trial of their faith, being much more precious than gold that
perisheth, and is tried in fire, may be their laud, honour, and
glory, at the appearing of the Lord Jesus, &c. But bear with me, I
pray you, (O holy father, and of all your predecessors most meek,)
and suffer my words, though they be something sharp, for they be
sighings of a sorrowful heart.

"Wherefore gird about your loins with fortitude, and light up the
candle of your discretion, and seek the groat that is lost, of the
unity, I mean, of faith. And we will also with like compassion join
with your Holiness, and I will not spare this weak body of mine, in
pretending any excuse either of age or length of the way; for the
more laborious the travel is, the more crowns it bringeth. And St.
Paul saith, Every man shall receive reward according to his travail,
&c.

"Neither are we ignorant (if it please your Holiness) that like as we
Grecians for our parts do labour in all respects to keep and observe
the sincerity of true faith and doctrine, not to err nor swerve in
any part or point from the statutes of the blessed apostles and
ancient fathers; so the Church likewise of old Rome doth for her part
labour also (we know well) to follow the sincere verity of Christian
doctrine, and thinketh herself to err in nothing, nor to need any
remedy or reformation. And this we know is the judgment and saying of
both the churches, as well of the Greeks as of the Latins. For no man
can see any spot in his own face, without he stoop down to the glass,
or else be admonished by some other, whether his face be blotted or
no. Even so have we many great and fair glasses set before us; first,
the clear gospel of Christ, the Epistles of the apostles, and
divinity books of ancient writers. Let us therefore look in them
well; they will show every man's mind and judgment, whether he go
right or wrong. The God of peace tread down Satan speedily under our
feet. The Author of peace confound the sower of discord. He that is
the cause of all goodness destroy the hater of all that which is
good, and which giveth cause of offence and slander. And he which is
God of all joy and peace send to us, which are the shepherds of his
sheep reasonable, the angel of peace, and the messenger of great glad
tidings, as he did in the nativity of Christ, to the shepherds of
brute sheep and unreasonable, and make us worthy to sing that joyful
song of God's praise, Gloria in excelsis Deo, et in terra pax
hominibus bona voluntas; and to receive one an other with a holy
kiss. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the peace of God the
Father, and the communion of the Holy Spirit, be with you al ways.
Amen."

Another letter the said Germanus, patriarch of Constantinople, wrote
also the same time to the pope's cardinals, wherein he first
commendeth them for their wisdom and counsel, and showeth what
utility cometh by good counsel. He saith, "Forasmuch as God many
times, that which he hideth from one, inspireth to another, so that
that good thing which by the Almighty God is sparingly dispensed to
divers, through common counsel and conference spreadeth to the public
utility of many," &c. After this, eftsoons he beginneth to exhort
them, that they, like charitable ministers, and discreet counsellors,
will take in hand the spiritual armour of God, to cast down the stop
and partition wall of the old discord between the Greek and Latin
Church, and that they will be a means to the bishop of Rome, that
they, which so long have been dissevered by dissension, may now be
conjoined in unity of peace, in brotherly charity and communion of
faith.

"Concerning which matter I have (saith he) already written to his
Holiness. And now I beseech the King of heaven, which took the shape
of a servant to help his miserable servants, and was exalted upon the
cross to raise them up which were fallen into the profundity of
desolation, that he will vouchsafe to put from your hearts all
elation of mind, extolling itself over and above the unity of your
brethren and fellow servants, and to enlighten your consciences with
the true light of understanding, that we may all together agree in
one, and that there be no schism amongst us. Let us therefore, as we
are instructed, so abide in one mind, that it be not said of us as it
was of the Corinthians before us, I hold of Paul, I of Apollo, I of
Cephas, and I of Christ; but that all we, as we hold the name of
Christ, and are all called Christians, so may also abide in that
wherein we are instructed, in one mind, that is, to follow love and
charity in Christ Jesus, having always in our hearts the words of the
apostle, saying, One Lord, one faith, one baptism.

"And now, to be plain with you in that I have to say, I shall desire
you not to be offended with me in uttering the truth as a friend unto
you. The words (saith Solomon) of a wise man, telling truth, be like
to nails which be driven in deep; and truth for the most part
hreedeth enemies. And therefore, though I am partly afraid, yet will
I simply confess the truth unto you. Certes this division of
Christian unity amongst us proceedeth of no other cause but only of
the tyranny, oppression, and exactions of the Church of Rome, which
of a mother is be come a stepdame, and hath put her children from her
whom long time she nourished (after the manner of a ravening bird,
which driveth her young from her); which children, how much the more
humble and obedient they are to her, the less she esteemeth them, and
treadeth them under foot, not regarding the saying of the Gospel,
Whoso humbleth himself shall be exalted.

"Let modesty therefore something temper you, and let the avarice of
the court of Rome, although it cannot well out of the flesh which is
bred in the bone, yet surcease awhile, and let us together condescend
to the trial of the truth; which truth being found out on both sides,
let us constantly embrace the same.

"For why? we have been altogether sometimes both Italians and
Grecians in one faith, and under the same canons, having peace each
with other, and defending one another, and confounding the enemies of
the church. At what time many flying out of the west parts (while the
tyranny of the heretics endured) made their concourse to us, and were
received; and part fled unto you, that is, old Rome, as to a strong
tower of refuge; and so received they comfort in both places; and one
brother was thus received into the bosom of another by mutual love
for their defence.

"Then after, when Rome had been often distressed by the barbarous and
heathen nations, the Grecians were ever ready to rescue and deliver
them. Did not Agapetus and Vigilius flee unto Constantinople by
reason of the dissensions then at Rome, and, being honourably
received, were here defended under our protection? although the like
kindness was never yet showed of your part to us again in our like
necessities. Notwithstanding, we ought to do good to them also that
be ungrateful; for so doth the sea participate her smooth and calm
tides even unto the pirates. And so 'God causeth the sun to shine
upon the just and unjust.' But (alas for sorrow!) what bitter
division is this that hath thus sequestered us asunder? One of us
detracteth another, shunning the company one of another, as the
damnation of his soul. What a mortal hatred is this come among us! If
you think we are fallen, then do you help to lift us up, and be not
to us a stumbling-block to our bodily ruin, but helpers unto the
spiritual resurrection of our souls. So shall we acknowledge
ourselves bound unto you to give you condign thanks accordingly.

"But if the blame and first original of this offence proceedeth from
Rome, and the successors of Peter the apostle, then read ye the words
of St. Paul to the Galatians, saying, When Peter came to Antioch, I
withstood him in the face, because he was to be rebuked, &c. Howbeit
this resistance was no cause of any discord or breach between them,
but the cause rather of further search and profounder disputations,
provoking temporal agreement. For they were fast joined together in
the bond of charity in Christ, agreeing in faith and conformity of
doctrine, separated by no ambition or avarice. In which points would
God we also were like unto them. This to us in our minds gendereth a
great offence, that you, gaping so greedily after terrene
possessions, scrape together all that you can scratch and rake. You
heap up gold and silver, and yet pretend that you be the disciples of
him which said, Gold and silver I have none, &c. You make whole
kingdoms tributary to you, and kings and princes your vassals You
augment your money by usury, and by feats of merchandise. You unteach
by your deeds that which you teach in words.

"Moderate yourselves therefore with more temperance, that you may be
an example to us and to all the world. You see how good a thing it is
one brother to help another, Only God alone needeth no help or
counsel, but men need to be holpen one of another. And were it not
that I do reverence the blessed apostle Peter, the chief of Christ's
apostles, the rock of our faith, I would here put you in remembrance
how greatly this rock was shaken and removed from the foundation at
the sight of a silly woman; and Christ of his secret purpose
permitted the same, which by the crowing of the cock brought him
again to remembrance of that which was foretold him, and raised him
from the slumber of desperation. Then he, being thus waked, washed
his face with tears, confessing himself before God and all the world
to be a true pattern of repentance, which before bare the keys of the
kingdom, as saying thus unto us; May not he which falleth rise again?
O you which are fallen, rise up and be hold me, and hearken unto me,
travelling towards paradise; the gates whereof to open I have
received power.

"And thus do I write unto you, not for any in struction, but only to
put you in remembrance; for I know how God hath endued you with all
wis dom and knowledge, as Solomon saith, Give only occasion to the
wise, and he will learn wisdom; Teach the just man, and he will be
glad to take instruction.

"This one thing more I will say, and so make an end; there be great
and mighty nations that are of like mind and opinion with us. First,
the Ethiopians that inhabit the chiefest part of the East. After that
the Syrians, and other more of greater number than they, and more
disposed to virtue, as the Hiberi, Alani, Gothi, Charari, with
innumerable people of Russia, and the kingdom of great victory, that
of the Vulgarians. And all these are obedient unto us as their mother
church, persisting hitherto constantly in the ancient and true
orthodox faith immovable.

"The God of all holiness, which for our sakes became man, and which
only is the Head of his church and congregation, vouchsafe to gather
us again to gether in unity, and grant that the Grecian Church,
together with her sister Church of old Rome, may glorify the same
Christ, the Prince of peace, by the unity of faith, to the
restitution of sound and whole some doctrine, wherein many years
agone they have agreed and were united. God grant unto you brotherly
charity, and the hand of the most mighty God govern you all, holy
cardinals, till that joy fully ye arrive in the haven of everlasting
tranquillity. The grace of God he with you all. Amen."

Shortly after the sending of these letters, Pope Gregory prepared to
send men of war, signed with the cross, to fight against the
Grecians; whereupon the archbishop of Antioch, with the said
Germanus, solemnly excommunicated the pope, after he first had
excommunicated them. In the mean time, by the tenor of these letters
of the patriarch sent to the pope and to the cardinals, it is evident
to all men that have eyes in their heads to see, first, how the whole
universal church of Christ, from the east parts to the west, in
ancient times were altogether united in one consent of doctrine, and
linked to gether in brotherly charity, one church brotherly to help
another, both with temporal aid and spiritual counsel, as case
required. Neither was then any one mother church above other
churches, but the whole universal church was the mother church and
spouse of the Lord to every faithful believer. Under which universal
church in general were comprehended all particular churches in
special, as sister churches together; not one greater than another,
but all in like equality; as God gave his gifts, so serving one
another; ever holding together the unity of faith and sisterly love.
And so long was it and rightly might so be called the catholic
church, having in it true unity, universality, and free consent;
unity in doctrine, universality in communicating and joining together
of voices, consent in spirit and judgment. For whatsoever was taught
at Rome touching faith and salvation, it was no other than was taught
at Antioch, Syria, &c.

Secondly, how in process of time, through occasion of the bishop of
Rome's tyranny and violent oppression, this ring of equality being
broken, all flew in pieces, the east Church from the west, the Greeks
from the Latins; and that which was one before, now was made two;
unity turned to division, universality to singularity, and free
consent to dissension.

Thirdly, here is also to be noted, after this pitiful breach of
equality, how many and what great nations departed from the communion
of the Church of Rome, and especially about this time above specified
of Pope Gregory the Ninth, A.D. 1230; so that both before and after
that time many councils were holden, and many things concluded, in
the west Church, whereunto the one half of Christendom, lying in the
east parts, did never agree; and, contrary, many councils holden with
them which in the Latin Church were not received. So that the church
now, as she lost the benefit of universal consent, so also she lost
the name catholic. Where upon this question is to be asked, that when
the Council of Lateran,under Pope Innocent the Third, ordained the
doctrine of transubstantiation, and auricular confession, here in the
west Church, without the free consent of the east Church, whether the
same doctrine is to be counted catholic or not? &c.

Fourthly, in the departing of these churches from the bishop of Rome,
here also is to be noted, that the same churches of the Greeks,
notwithstanding they sequestered themselves, and fell out with the
Church of Rome, and that justly, yet they kept their unity still with
their God, and received still the true [Greek] that is, the true and
sincere doctrine of faith, ready to debate and try the truth of their
religion by the Scriptures, as they here in their own writings desire
to have the truth examined, according as ye have heard. Wherefore the
Church of Rome hath done them open wrong, which being offered so
gently to try and to be tried by the truth of God's word, not only
would stand to no trial, nor abide conference, but also hath
excommunicated them as heretics, which appear here to be more
orthodox Christians than they themselves.

Fifthly, these things thus standing, then have we to conclude that
the Church of Rome falsely pretendeth itself catholic. For if the
name of catholic must needs import a universal consent of the whole,
how can that be catholic where the consent of so many famous and true
Christian churches hath been lacking; and furthermore, where the
consent that hath been amongst themselves hath rather been coacted
than any true or free consent? Which is easy to be proved; for let
these fires and faggots cease, let kings and princes leave to press
their subjects with the pope's obedience, let the Scripture and the
bishops alone every one in his own diocess to govern their flock
after the rule of God's word, and how few be there in this west end
of the world (trow you) that would not do the same that these
Grecians,ethiopians, and Syrians have done before us? And thus much
by the occasion of this patriarch's letters sent to Pope Gregory
concerning the Grecians.

Whose doings when I consider, as I cannot but commend their wisdom,
and judge their state happy, and blessed, in shaking off from their
necks the miserable yoke of the pope's tyranny; so, on the other
side, considering with myself the wretched thraldom of these our
churches here in the west part of the world under the bishop of Rome,
I can not tell whether more to marvel or to lament their pitiful
state, who were brought into such oppression and slavery under him,
that neither they could abide him, nor yet durst cast him off. So
intolerable were his exactions, so terrible was his tyranny, his
suspensions and excommunications much like to a mad-man's dagger,
drawn at every trifle, that no Christian patience could suffer it,
nor nation abide it. Again, so deep did he sit in their consciences,
they falsely believing him to have the authority of St. Peter, that
for conscience' sake neither king nor Cæsar durst withstand him, much
less poor subjects once mute against him. And although his takings
and spoilings, namely, in this realm of England, were such, that
neither the laity nor spiritualty could bear them; yet was there no
remedy, bear them they must, or else the pope's sentence was upon
them, to curse them as black as pitch.



53. MORE DISSENSIONS ABOUT ECCLESIASTICAL APPOINTMENTS

In reading the histories of these times, any good heart would lament
and rue to see the miserable captivity of the people, what they
suffered under this thraldom of the bishop of Rome, whereof part hath
been showed before, more (God willing) shall follow hereafter, and
some part presently I mind to express.

And first to begin with the elections of the bishops, abbots, deans,
and priors within this realm, it cannot be told what mass of money
grew to the pope's coffers thereby, especially in this king's days;
forasmuch as in his time lightly no election happened, either of
archbishop, bishop, abbot, or any room of dignity, but when the
convent or chapter had chosen one to their mind, the king, who had
married a stranger, and sought therefore to prefer strangers, would
set up another. By reason whereof, when the other part was fain to
appeal to Rome, and there to plead the case, no small rivers of
English money, besides expenses and travel by the way, went flowing
to the pope's see. And although the election went never so clear, yet
the new elect must needs respect the holy father with some gentle
reward, and further by his oath was bound every three years, either
in his own person or by another, to visit limina apostolorum.

So in the house of St. Albans, when John Herford was elected abbot,
their public election was not enough; but, for the confirmation of
the same, the monks were fain to send Reinold the physician, and
Nicholas a monk, to Rome with a sufficient bag of money, through the
mediation whereof the election might stand, and the new abbot was
sworn every third year by himself or another to visit the doorsills
of the apostles.

Another such-like contention happened between the king and the monks
of Winchester, about the election of William Rale, whom the monks had
chosen, but the king refused, willing to place a stranger, and
therefore sent to Rome his messengers, Theobald, a monk of
Westminster, and Master Alexander, a lawyer, with no small sum of
money to evacuate the election of the foresaid William Bale;
commanding, moreover, that the gates of Winchester should be shut
against him, and that no man should be so hardy there to receive him
in the house. Whereupon the said W. being excluded, after he laid his
curse upon the whole city of Win chester, made his repair to Rome;
where, for eight hundred marks being promised to the pope, his
bishopric (spite of the king's heart) was confirmed, and he received.

After the death of Stephen Langton, archbishop of Canterbury, ye
heard before how the monks had elected Walter, a monk of Canterbury.
But the king, to stop that election, sent up his proctors, M.
Alexander Stanes, and M. Henry Sandford, bishop of Rochester, to the
pope, to evacuate that election, and to place Richard, chancellor of
Lincoln. Which proctors perceiving at first how hard and unwilling
the pope and cardinals were thereunto, and considering how all things
might be bought for money, rather than the king should fail of his
purpose, they promised on the king's behalf to the pope, for
maintaining his wars against Frederic the emperor, a disme or tenth
part of all the movables in the realm of England and of Ireland. At
the contemplation of which money the pope eftsoons, thinking to pass
with the king, began to pick quarrels with the aforesaid Walter, for
not answering rightly to his questions about Christ's descending to
hell, making of Christs body on the altar, the weeping of Rachel for
her children, she being dead before, about the sentence of
excommunication, and certain causes of matrimony. His answers
whereunto, when they were not to the pope's mind, be was therefore
put back, and the king's man preferred, which cost the whole realm of
England and Ireland the tenth part of their movable goods, by reason
whereof what money was raised to the pope's ecclesiastical treasury I
leave to the estimation of the reAder, A.D. 1229.

And yet, for all this, the said Richard, the costly archbishop of
Canterbury, within less than two years after, falling out with the
king about the castle and lordship of Tunbridge, went and complained
of him to the pope. In the traverse whereof it cost the king a great
piece of money besides, and yet missed he his purpose. In the which
journey the said archbishop, in his return homeward, by the way
departed, A.D. 1231.

Of the like dissension ye heard before between the king and the
convent of Durham, for not choosing M. Lucas, the king's chaplain,
whom the king offered to be their bishop. About the suit whereof,
when much money was bestowed on both sides well favouredly, the pope,
defeating them both, admitted neither M. William nor M. Lucas, but
ordained the bishop of Sarum to be their bishop, A.D. 1228.

Between the monks of Coventry and the canons of Litchfield rose
another like quarrel, which of them should have the superior voice in
choosing their bishop. In which suit, after much money bestowed in
the court of Rome, the pope, to requalify again each part with some
retribution for their money received, took this order indifferently
between them, that each part by course should have the choosing of
their bishop, A.D. 1228.

What business fell likewise between Edmund, archbishop of Canterbufy,
and the monks of Rochester, about the election of Richard Wendour, to
be their bishop! And what was the end? First, the archbishop was fain
to travel himself to the pope, and so did the convent also send their
proctors. Who, belike being better monied, weighed down the cause, so
that the good archbishop in that cause against the monks, and partly
in another cause against the earl of Arundel, was condemned of the
pope in a thousand marks. Whereof the greatest part (no doubt)
redounded to the pope's coffers, A.D. 1238.

After the returning of the said Edmund, archbishop of Canterbury,
again from Rome, it chanced that the monks of Canterbury had elected
their prior without his assent; for the which he did excommunicate
the monks, and evacuate their election, Not long after this, the
pope's exactors went about to extort from the churchmen the fifth
part of their goods to the pope's use, fighting then against the
emperor. This cruel exaction being a great while resisted by the
prelates and clergy, at length the foresaid archbishop, thinking
thereby to get the victory against the monks, was contented to grant
to the said exaction, adding moreover of his own for an overplus
eight hundred marks; whereupon the rest of the clergy was fain to
follow after, and contribute to the pope's exactors, A.D. 1240.

In the church of Lincoln (whose see before the conquest was in
Dorchester, and afterwards by William Rufus translated from thence to
Lincoln) rose a grievous contention between Robert Grosthead, then
bishop, and the canons of the cathedral church, about their
visitation, whether the bishop should visit them or the dean; which
matter, being put unto arbitrators, could not so be composed, before
the bishop and the chapter, after their appeal made unto the pope,
went both unto Rome, and there, after they had well wasted their
purses, they received at length their answer, but paid full sweetly
for it, A.D. 1239.

At what time the canons of Chichester had elected Robert Passelew to
their bishop, at the king's request the archbishop, with certain
other bishops, taking part against the king's chaplain, repelled him,
and set up Richard Witch. Upon this, what sending and going there was
unto Rome, and what money bestowed about the matter, as well of the
king's part as of the bishops'!

Robert Grosthead, bishop of Lincoln, (of whom relation was made
before,) having a great care how to bring the privilege orders of
religious houses within his precinct under his subjection and
discipline, went unto Rome, and there, with great labour and much
effusion of money, (as the story saith,) procured of the pope a
mandate, whereby all such religious orders were commanded to be under
his power and obedience. Not long after the monks, not abiding that,
(who could soon weigh down the bishop with money,) sent their factors
to the pope, who with their golden eloquence so persuaded him, and
stirred his affections in such sort, that soon they purchased to
themselves freedom from their ordinary bishop. Whereof Robert
Grosthead having intelligence made up to Rome, and there, complaining
to the pope, declared how he was disappointed and confounded in his
purpose, contrary to promises and assurance made to him before. Unto
whom Pope Innocent, looking with a stern countenance, made this
answer again, Brother, (said he,) what is that to thee? Thou hast
delivered and discharged thine own soul. It hath pleased us to show
favour unto them. Is thine eye ill, for that I am good? And thus was
the bishop sent away with a flea in his ear, murmuring with himself,
yet not so softly, but that the pope heard him say these words: O
money, money, what canst not thou do in the court of Rome? Wherewith
the pope, being somewhat pinched, gave this answer again: O ye
Englishmen, Englishmen, of all men most wretched, for all your
seeking is how ye may consume and devour one another, &c., A.D. 1250.

It happened moreover the same year, that the said Robert Grosthead
excommunicated and deprived one Ranulph, a beneficed person in his
diocess, being accused of incontinency, who, after the term of forty
days, refusing to submit himself, the bishop wrote to the sheriff of
Rutland to apprehend him as contumacious. Which sheriff, because he
deferred or refused so to do, (bearing favour to the party,) and
being therefore solemnly excommunicate by the bishop, uttered his
complaint to the king. Whereat the king taking great displeasure with
the bishop for excommunicating his sheriff, and not first making his
complaint to him, sendeth forth with a substantial messenger, (Master
Moneta,) such as he was sure would speed, unto Pope Innocent, by
virtue of whose words the pope, easy to be entreated, sendeth down a
proviso to the abbot of Westminster, charging that no prelate nor
bishop in the realm of England should molest or enter action against
any of the king's bailiffs or officers in such matters as to the
king's jurisdiction appertained. And thus was the strife ended not
without some help and heap of English money; so that no wind of any
controversy here stirred in England, were it never so small, but it
blew some profit for the pope's advantage, A.D. 1250.

In like manner no little treasure grew to the pope's coffers by the
election of Boniface, the queen's uncle, a Frenchman, to be
archbishop of Canterbury, A. D 1243, and of Ethelmare, the queen's
brother, to be bishop of Winchester against the wills of the prior
and convent there, A. D 1250, besides many such other escheats, which
made England poor, and the pope rich.



54. PAPAL GREED AND CORRUPTION

I come now something likewise to touch briefly of the pope's
dispensations, provisions, exactions, contributions, and extortions
in England in this king's days; for to discourse all, it is not one
book will hold it.

Simon Montfort, earl of Leicester, had married Eleanor, the king's
sister, and daughter of King John, who, by report of stories, had
taken the mantle and ring. Wherefore the king, and his brother
Richard, earl of Exeter, were greatly offended with the marriage;
which the Earl Simon seeing, made a hand of money, and posting over
to Rome, after he had talked a few words in Pope Innocent's ear, the
marriage was good enough; and letters were sent to Otho, the pope's
legate here, to give sentence solemnly with the earl.
Notwithstanding, the Dominic friars, and other of the like religious
fraternity, withstood that sentence of the pope stoutly, saying that
the pope's Holiness was therein deceived, and souls in danger; that
Christ was jealous over his wife; and that it could not be any wise
possible, that a woman which had vowed marriage with Christ could
afterward marry with any other, &c.

As there was nothing so hard in the wide worid wherewith the pope
would not dispense for money, so by the said dispensations much
mischief was wrought abroad. For by reason thereof the people,
trusting upon the pope's dispensation, little regarded what they did,
what they promised, or what they sware; as well appeared by this King
Henry the Third; who being a great exactor of the poor commons, as
ever was any king before him or since, and thinking thereby to win
the people sooner to his devotion, most faithfully promised them once
or twice, and thereto bound himself with a solemn oath, both before
the clergy and laity, to grant unto them the old liberties and
customs, as well of Magna Charta as Charta de Foresta, perpetually to
be observed. Whereupon a quindecim was granted to the king. But after
the payment was sure, the king, trusting by the pope's dispensation
for a little money to be discharged of his oath and covenant, went
from that he had promised and sworn before.

In like manner the said king another time, being in need of money,
signed himself with the cross, pretending and swearing deeply, in the
face of the whole parliament, that he would himself personally fight
in the Holy Land against the Saracens. But as soon as the money was
taken, small care was had for performance of his oath, being so put
in the head by certain about him, that he needed not to pass of that
perjury, forasmuch as the pope, for a hundred pounds or two, would
quickly discharge him thereof.

Out of the same corrupt spring of these popish dispensations have
proceeded also many other foul absurdities. For where many young men
were in those days which enjoyed benefices, and were no priests, and
when by the procurement of Robert Grosthead, bishop of Lincoln, the
said young men should be forced, whether they would or not, to enter
orders; they, laying their purses together, sent to Rome, and
obtained of the pope a dispensation to remain still as they were,
that is, to have the fruits of benefices to find them at school or
university, and yet themselves neither ministers to take charge, nor
yielding any service for their profits taken; besides innumerable
heaps of enormities more, proceeding of the pope's dispensations, as
dispensing one man to have sundry bishopries, to encroach pluralities
of benefices, to make children parsons, to legitimate bastards, with
such other like; the particulars whereof, for brevity sake, I do omit
to further opportunity.

Although these emoluments, thus rising daily to the pope's purse by
simony and bribery, by elections and dispensatious, might seem
sufficient to satisfy his greedy appetite; yet so unsatiable was the
avarice of that see, that he, not yet contented here with, over and
besides all this, sent every where almost some legate or other into
this realm to take for his advantage. Insomuch that during all this
king's time the realm was never lightly without some of the pope's
leaguers, with all violence exacting and extorting continual
provisions, contributions, and sums of money to be levied out of
cells, abbeys, priories, fruits of benefices, and bishoprics, and
also laymen's purses, to the miserable impoverishing both of the
clergy and temporalty, as hereunder followeth.

First, after Pandulphus, was sent into this realm Cardinal Otho,
procured by the king without the assent of his nobles, to the intent
to assist him in certain affairs he had to do. At receiving of which
legate great preparation was made; many rich and precious gifts in
scarlet, in plate, in jewels, in money and palfreys, were given him.
Whom the king also himself went as far as the sea-side to receive,
bowing down his head in low courtesy to the cardinal's knees; to whom
also the bishop of Winchester for his part gave, towards keeping of
his house, fifty fat oxen, a hundred seams of wheat, and eight great
vessels of pure wine. This legate, at his first coming, beginneth
first to bestow such benefices as he found vacant upon them whom he
brought with him, without respect whether they were meet or unmeet.

After this, the pope, hearing how the nobles and commons of the realm
began to stomach the cardinal for his excessive procurations and
exactions, sent for him home; but the king, by reason he stood in
fear of his nobles, and thought to have a stay by the cardinal
against all occurrents, entreated him to stay while he wrote to the
pope to obtain further licence for him to tarry; and so he did, not
without some English money ye may be sure.

In this mean time of vacation, Otho, thinking to lose no time, but to
gather also some crumbs in Scotland, made as though he would set
things there in order, which were in the Church of Scotland to be
reformed, and so cometh to the king of Scots, being then in York with
King Henry, to have leave to enter. Unto whom the king thus made
answer, that he never saw, to his remembrance, any pope's legate in
his land, neither was there any such need (God he praised) for such
to be sent for. Matters there were well enough, and needed no help of
his. And as he could never learn, neither in the days of his father,
or any his predecessors, that any such entrance to any legate was
granted; so he for his part would not now begin. But yet,
notwithstanding, forasmuch as I hear (said he) that you are a good
man, this I tell you before, that if you will needs adventure in, do
it warily, and take heed to yourself, lest it happen to you otherwise
than I would wish; for they be a savage and unruly people, given much
to murder and shedding blood, whom I myself am scarce able to bridle;
so that if they fall upon you, I shall not be able to help you. And
how they also invaded me, and sought to expel me from my kingdom, ye
heard of late. And therefore I warn you before, take heed betime what
you think best to do. After the cardinal heard the king speak these
words, he plucked in his horns, and durst proceed no further, but
kept him still by the side of King Henry. Notwithstanding, shortly
after, the same legate, coming to the borders of Scotland, there
called the bishops to him; and so, when he had well filled his bags,
came back again.

It was not long after, but licence came from Pope Gregory to his
legate Otho, for his longer abode here in the realm, (as welcome as
water in the ship,) with new authority also to proceed in the pope's
affairs. Who first showing to the bishops and the clergy his letters
of longer tarrying, required of them, forasmuch as no man, said he,
warreth of his own charges, to be supported with new procurations;
which was, to have of every able church four marks; and where one
church was not able to reach thereto, that other churches should join
withal to make the said money. Notwithstanding the bishops a great
while stood in the denial thereof.

Besides, he assembled together all the black monks of St. Benedict's
order, giving to them strict orders, which shortly after for money he
released to them again.

Moreover, by the said Otho, and the pope's other exactions, with
special bulls directed down for the same, collation of benefices
being taken out of the hands of the patrons, were given to light and
vile runnagates, coming from Italy and other places, such as pleased
the pope and his legate to bestow them upon, to the great prejudice
of the ancient liberty and right of the true patrons thereof.
Whereupon the earls, and barons, and nobles of the realm addressed
letters to Pope Gregory by Sir Robert Twing, knight, for redress of
such wrongs and injuries; who otherwise should be forced, they said,
to invocate the succour of their king, who both was able, and was no
less willing, according to his duty, theytrusted, to reform such
enormities, and to defend the liberties of his realm.

Not long after the same, in the year of our Lord 1240, came a new
precept from Pope Gregory, by Peter Rubeus, the pope's nuncio, to the
aforesaid Otho, that all beneficed men of the clergy, as well in
England as in France, should pay to the pope the fifth part of their
revenues. Whereupon, when the clergymen made their complaint to the
king, seeking to be relieved by him, the king answered them again,
that he neither would nor durst stand against the pope in any case,
and so without all hope of succour sent them away. Then were the
archbishops, bishops, abbots, and prelates of the church commanded to
assemble together at Reading, there to hear the pope's pleasure and
commandment concerning the payment of this fifth part, where in the
end thus the matter concluded, that the prelates desired a further
time to be given them to advise upon the matter: and for that season
the assembly brake up. Notwithstanding at last, after many excuses
and exceptions laid in by the clergy; first, that because the money
was gathered to fight against the emperor, they ought not to
contribute their money, contrary to the liberties of the church.
Item, for somuch as they had paid a tenth not long before unto the
pope, upon condition that no more such payments should be required of
them, much less now the fifth part should be exacted of them, because
an action twice done maketh a custom. Item, seeing they had
oftentimes to repair unto the court of Rome, if they should give this
money against the emperor, it would turn to their danger coming
through his land. Item, seeing their king had many enemies, against
whom they must needs relieve the king with their money, they could
not so do if the realm were thus impoverished. &c. All which excuses;
with divers other more notwithstanding, they were compelled at length
to conform themselves to the pope's good pleasure, through the
example given of Edmund, archbishop of Canterbury; who, to obtain his
purpose against the monks of Canterbury, (with whom he was then in
strife,) began first to yield to the legates eight hundred marks for
his part, whereby the rest also were fain to follow after.

Furthermore, the same year the pope agreed so with the people of
Rome, that if they would aid him against Frederic the emperor,
whatever benefices were to be given in England, the same should he at
their arbitrement to he bestowed upon their children. Whereupon
commandment was sent to the aforesaid Edmund, archbishop, to the
bishops of Lincoln and Sarum, that all the collations of benefices
within the realm should he suspended, till provision were made for
three hundrod children of the citizens of Rome to be first served.
Upon the which so miserable request, the said Edmund, archbishop of
Canterbury, for sorrow to see the church so oppressed, departed the
realm, and so continued in France, and died at Pontigny. Which Edmund
was afterward made a saint, and canonized by Pope Innocent the
Fourth.

This done, then went Peter Rubeus, the pope's nuncio, and Ruffinus,
into Scotland, from whence they brought with them three thousand
pounds to the pope's use about All-hallow-tide the same year. At
which time moreover cometh another harpy from the pope to England,
named Mumelius, bringing with him three and twenty Romans here into
the realm to be beneficed. Thus, what by the king on the one side,
and what by the cardinal Otho, Peter Rubeus, Ruffinus, and Mumelius,
on the other side, poor England was in a wretched case.

Another pretty practice of the pope to prowl for money was this: The
aforesaid Peter Rubeus, coming into religious houses and into their
chapters, caused them to contribute to the pope's Holiness, by the
example of this bishop, and that abbot, pretending that he and he, of
their own voluntary devotion, had given so much and so much, and so
seduced them. Also the pope craftily suborned certain friars,
authorized with full indulgence, that whosoever had vowed to fight in
the Holy Land, and was disposed to be released of his vow, needed not
to repair to Rome for absolution; but paying so much money as his
charges would come to going thither, he resorting to the said friars
might he assoiled at home.

This passed in the year 1240. Now all these troubles laid together
were enough to vex the meekest prince in the world; whereto, by way
of access to the king's further molestation, he had much ado with the
prelates and clergymen of his realm, who were always tampering with
his title, especially in their assemblies and councils; to whom the
king, to restrain them from that presumption, did both send and
write, as appeareth by this evidence of record. The king sent
Geoffrey Langley to the archbishop of York, and to other bishops,
purposed to meet at Oxford, to appeal for him, lest, in the said
council there called, they should presume to ordain something against
his crown and dignity. This was done in the year of our Lord 1241. In
which year also came a commandment apostolical to the house of
Peterborough, that they at the pope's contemplation must needs grant
him some benefice lying in their donation, the fruits whereof were
worth at least a hundred pounds, and if it were more it should be the
better welcome; so that they should be as the farmers, and he to
receive the profits. In fine, the convent excused themselves by the
abbot being then not at home. The abbot, when he came home, excused
himself by the king being the patron and founder of the house. The
king, being grieved with the unreasonable ravening of these
Romanists, utterly forbade any such example to be given. But what
happened? The abbot, being therefore accused to the pope by one of
the legates, and coming up about four years after, in the time of
Pope Innocent, to the Council of Lyons, was so rated and reviled, and
so shamefully thrust out of the pope's court, that for sorrow he fell
sick upon the same, and there died.

In the time of which Council of Lyons, Pope Innocent the Fourth
(forsomuch as the instrument or obligation whereby the realm of
England stood tributary to the pope was thought to be burned in the
pope's chamber a little before) brought forth either the same or
another chart like unto it, where unto he straitly charged and
commanded every English bishop, being there present at the council,
severally to set to his hand and seal. Which unreasonable petition of
the pope, albeit it went sore against the hearts of the bishops, yet
(see in what miserable subjection the pope had all the bishops under
him) none of them durst otherwise do but accomplish the pope's
request therein, both to their own shame, and prejudice to the public
freedom of the realm. Amongst which bishops, the longest that held 
out, and last that put to his seal, was the bishop of London. Which
act, when the king and the nobility understood, they were mightily
and worthily therewith all offended.

After what time Cardinal Otho was sent for by Pope Gregory in all
haste to come to the general council, two other in his room here
remained, whose names were Peter Rubeus, and Peter de Supino. Of whom
the one, bearing himself for the pope's kinsman, brought out his
bills and bulls, under the pope's authority, to such an abbot, or to
such a prior, or to such and such a bishop, and so extorted from them
a great quantity of gold and silver. The other, to wit, Peter de
Supino, sailed to Ireland, from whence he brought with him a thousand
and five hundred marks to the pope's use. All which money,
notwithstanding gotten by both the collectors, in the carriage of it
up to Rome, about the death of Pope Gregory, happened into the hands
of Frederic the emperor, who caused it again to be restored, as near
as he could, to them of whom it was taken.

After these came in then Master Martin, a new merchant from the new
Pope Innocent the Fourth, A.D. 1244, armed with full power to suspend
all prelates in England from giving benefices, till the pope's
kinsmen were first preferred. Neither would he take the fruits of any
benefice, unless it were above the value of thirty marks. At his
first coming he required of prelates, and especially of religious
houses, to furnish him with horses and palfreys, such as were
convenient for the pope's especial chaplain and legate to sit upon;
also with plate, raiment, provision for his kitchen and cellar, &c.,
and such as denied or excused he suspended, as the abbot of
Malmesbury, and the prior of Merton. All prebends that were void he
sought out, and reserved them for the pope's behoof; among which was
the golden prebend of Sarum, belonging to the chancellor of the
choir, whom he preferred to the bishopric of Bath, and so seized upon
the prebend being void, against the wills both of the bishop and the
chapter. Moreover, he brought with him blanks in paper and parchment,
signed in the pope's chamber with his stamp and seal, wherein he
might afterward write to whom and what he would; requiring
furthermore. of the king, in the pope's behalf, to help his Holiness
with a contribution to be taxed amongst his clergy, at least of ten
thousand marks. And to the end that the pope might win the king
sooner to his devotion, he writeth in the king's behoof to the nobles
and commons of the realm, that they should not fail, upon pain of his
great curse, to confer such subsidy of money to the subvention of the
king, as he then had demanded of them; but they stood stiff in not
granting to him.

While the insatiable avarice of the pope thus made no end in
gathering riches and goods together in England, the nobles and
barons, with the community as well of the clergy as the laity,
weighing the miserable state of the realm, and, namely, of the
church, which now neither had liberty left them to choose their own
ministers, nor yet could enjoy their own livings, laid their heads
together, and so exhibited an earnest intimation to the king,
beseeching him to consider the pitiful affliction and oppression of
his subjects under the pope's extortion, living in more thraldom than
ever did the people of Israel under Pharaoh. Whereupon the king,
beginning at last to look up, and to consider the injuries and wrongs
received in this realm, through the avarice of the court of Rome,
directeth to Pope Innocent the Fourth this letter in tenor as
followeth:

"To the most holy father in Christ, and lord, Innocent, by the grace
of God chief bishop, Henry, by the same grace king of England, &c.,
greeting and kissings of his blessed feet. The more devout and
obsequious the son showeth himself in obeying the father's will, the
more favour and supportation doth he deserve to find at his father's
hands again. This therefore I write, for that whereas both we and our
realm have ever and in all things been hitherto at the devotion and
commandment of your fatherhood; and that although, in some certain
affairs of ours and of our kingdom, we have found your fatherly
favour and grace sometimes propitious unto us, yet in some things
again, as in provisions given and granted to your clerks of foreign
nations, both we and our kingdom have felt no small detriment. By
reason of which provisions the Church of England is so sore charged
and burdened, that not only the patrons of churches, to whom the
donations thereof do appertain, are defrauded of their right, but
also many other good works of charity thereby do decay, for that such
benefices. which have been mercifully bestowed upon religious houses
to their sustentation, are now wasted and consumed by your
provisions.

"Wherefore, forasmuch as your see apostolic ought to be favourable to
all that be petitioners to the same, so that no person be wronged in
that which is his right, we thought therefore to be suitors to your
fatherhood, most humbly beseeching your Holiness, that you will
desist and surcease for a time from such provisions to be exacted. In
the mean season, it may please your fatherhood, we beseech you, that
our laws and liberties (which you may rightly repute none other but
your own) you will receive to your tuition, to be conserved whole and
sound, nor to suffer the same by any sinister suggestion in your
court to be violated and infringed. Neither let your Holiness be any
whit moved therefore with us, if in some such cases as these be we do
or shall hereafter resist the tenor of your commandments; forsomuch
as the complaints of such which daily call upon us do necessarily
enforce us thereunto; which ought, by the charge of this our office
and kingly dignity committed to us of Almighty God, to foresee that
no man in that which is their right be injured, but truly to minister
justice to every one in that which duly to him appertaineth." -- This
letter was sent the eight and twen tieth year of the king's reign.

A man would think that this so gentle and obedient letter of the king
to the pope would have wrought some good effect in his apostolical
breast, to withdraw his provisions, and to have tendered the king's
so reasonable and honest request; but how little all this prevailed
to stop his insatiable greediness, and intolerable extortions and
oppressions, the sequel well declareth. For besides that shortly
after the pope sent Master Martin with blanks, being bulled for
contribution of ten thousand marks, in all haste to be paid also,
even immediately upon the receiving of this letter, it followeth in
mine author, that the said Pope Innocent the Fourth, after all this
great submission of the king, and so manifold benefits and payments
yearly out of his realm received, was not ashamed to take of David,
prince of North Wales, five hundred marks by year, to set him against
the king of England, and exempted him from his fealty and obediehee
due to his own liege lord and king, to whom both he and all other
Welchmen had sworn their subjection before, as by the seals and
obligations, as well of that David himself, as other Welch lords in
this behalf, doth appear.

Neither did Master Martin in the mean while slip his business, in
making up his market for the pope's money of ten thousand marks, but
still was calling upon the prelates and clergy. Who, first excusing
themselves by the absence of the king and the archbishop of
Canterbury, afterward being called again by new letters, made their
answer by the dean of Paul's, their prolocutor:

First, that the poverty of the realm would not suffer them to consent
thereto.

Item, whereas they had given before a contribution to Cardinal Otho
for paying of the pope's debts, and knew the said money to be
employed to no such end as it was demanded for, more cause they had
now to misdoubt, lest this contribution in his hands, which was a
much more inferior messenger than the cardinal, would come to the
same or a worse effect.

Item, if they should now agree to a new contribution, they feared
lest it would grow to a custom, seeing that one action twice done
maketh a custom.

Item, forasmuch as a general council is shortly looked for, where
every prelate of the realm must needs bestow both his travel and
expenses, and also his present to the pope, if the prelates now
should be bound to this tax, they were not able to abide' this
burden.

Item, seeing it is alleged, that the mother church of Rome is so far
in debt, reason and right it were that the mother so oppressed should
be sustained of all her devout children meeting together in the ge
neral council; whereas by helps of many more relief might come more
than by one nation alone.

Item, last of all, they alleged that, for fear of the emperor and his
threatenings, they durst not consent to the said contribution.

While these things were thus in talk between the pope's priests and
the clergy of England, cometh in John Mariscal and other messengers
from the king, commanding, in the king's name, that no bishop that
held his baronage of the king should infief his lay fee to the court
of Rome, which they owed only to
him, &c.

Not long after this, in the year of our Lord 1245, the whole nobility
of the realm, by general consent, and not without the king's
knowledge also, caused all the ports by the sea-side to be laid, that
no me senger with the pope's letters and bulls from Rome should be
permitted to enter the realm, whereunto some were taken at Dover, and
there stayed. Notwithstanding, when complaint thereof was brought to
the king by Master Martin, the pope's legate, there was no remedy,
but the king must needs cause these letters to be restored again and
executed to the full effect.

Then the king upon advice caused a view to be taken through every
shire in England to what sum the whole revenues of the Romans and
Italians amounted, which by the pope's authority went out of England;
the whole sum whereof was found yearly to be threescore thousand
marks, to the which sum the revenues of the whole crown of England
did not extend.

The nobles then, understanding the miserable oppression of the realm,
being assembled together at Dunstable for certain causes, sent one
Fulco, in the name of the whole nobility, unto Master Martin, the
pope's merchant. with this message, that he without delay upon the
same warning should prepare himself to be gone out of the realm,
under pain of being cut all to pieces. At which message the legate
being sore aghast, went straight to the king, to know whether his
consent was to the same or not. Of whom, when he found little better
comfort, he took his leave of the king, who bade him adieu in the
devil's name, saith Matth. Paris; and thus was the realm rid of
Master Martin.

As soon as Pope Innocent had hereof intelligence by the complaint of
his legate, he was in a mighty rage. And furthermore, remembering how
the French king and the king of Arragon not long before had denied
him entrance into their land, and being therefore in displeasure with
them likewise, he began in great anger to knit his brows, and said,
It is best that we fall in agreement with our prince, whereby we may
the sooner bring under these little petty kings; and so, the great
dragon being pacified, these little serpents we shall handle at our
own pleasures as we list.
(Illustration: Lyons )

After this, immediately then followed the general Council of Lyons,
to the which council the lords and states of the realm, with the
consent of the commonalty, sent two bills; one containing a general
supplication to the pope and the council, the other with the articles
of such grievances which they desired to be redressed, whereof
relation is made suffieiently before. The other bill of the
supplication, because it is not before expressed, I thought here to
exhibit for two causes: first, that men now in these days may see the
pitiful blindness of those ignorant days, wherein our English nation
here did so blindly humble themselves and stand to the pope's
courtesy, whom rather they should have shaken off, as the Grecians
did. Secondly, that the pride of the pope might the better appear in
his colours, who so disdainfully rejected the humble suit of our
lords and nobles, when they had much more cause to disdain rather and
to stamp him under their feet. The tenor of the supplication was
this.

The copy of the suppliccation written in the names of all the nobles
and commons of England to Pope Innocent the Fourth, in the general
Council at Lyons, A.D. 1245.

"To the reverend father in Christ, Pope Innocent, chief bishop, the
nobles, with the whole commonalty of the realm of England, sendeth
commendation, with kissing of his blessed feet.

"Our mother, the Church of Rome, we love with all our hearts, as our
duty is, and covet the increase of her honour with so much affection
as we may, as to whom we ought always to fly for refuge, whereby the
grief lying upon the child, may find comfort at the mother's hand.
Which succour the mother is bound so much the rather to impart to her
child, how much more kind and beneficial she findeth him in relieving
her necessity. Neither is it to the said our mother unknown how
beneficial and bountiful a giver the realm of England hath been now
of long time for the more amplifying of her exaltation, as appeared
by your yearly subsidy, which we term by the name of Peter pence. Now
the said church, not contented with this yearly subsidy, hath sent
divers legates for other contributions, at divers and sundry times,
to be taxed and levied out of the same realm; all which contributions
and taxes notwithstanding have been lovingly and liberally granted.

"Furthermore, neither is it unknown to your fatherhood, how our
forefathers, like good catholics, both loving and fearing their
Maker, for the souls' health, as well of themselves as of their
progenitors and successors also, have founded monasteries, and
largely have endowed the same, both with their own proper lands, and
also patronages of benefices; whereby such religious persons,
professing the first and chiefest perfection of holy religion in
their monasteries, might with more peace and tranquillity occupy
themselves devoutly in God's service, as to the order appertained;
and also the clerks, presented by them into their benefices, might
sustain the other exterior labours for them in that second order of
religion, and so discharge and defend them from all hazards: so that
the said religious monasteries cannot be defrauded of those their
patronages and collations of henefices, but the same must touch us
also very near, and work intolerable griefs unto our hearts.

"And now see, we beseech you, which is lamentable to behold, what
injuries we sustain by you and your predecessors, who, not
considering those our subsidies and contributions above remembered,
do suffer also your Italians and foreigners (which be out of number)
to be possessed of our churches and benefices in England, pertaining
to the right and patronage of those monasteries aforesaid; which
foreigners, neither defending the said religious per sons, whom they 
ought to see to, nor yet having the language whereby they may
instruct the flock, take no regard of their souls, but utterly leave
them of wild wolves to be devoured. Wherefore it may truly be said of
them, that they are no good shepherds; whereas neither they know
their sheep, nor the sheep do know the voice of their shepherds;
neither do they keep any hospitality, but only take up the rents of
those benefices, carrying them out of the realm, wherewith our
brethren, our nephews, and our kinsfolks might be sustained, who
could and would dwell upon them, and employ such exercises of mercy
and hospitality as their duty required. Whereof a great number now
for mere necessity are laymen, and fain to fly out of the realm.

"And now, to the intent more fully to certify you of the truth, ye
shall understand that the said Italians and strangers, receiving of
yearly rents out of England not so little as three thousand marks by
year, besides other avails and excises deducted, do reap in the said
our kingdom of England more emoluments of mere rents than doth the
king himself, being both tutor of the Church and governor of the
land.

"Furthermore, whereas at the first creation of your papacy we were in
good hope, and yet are, that by means of your fatherly goodness we
should enjoy our franchises, and free collation of our benefices and
donatives, to be reduced again to the former state; now cometh
another grievance, which we cannot but signify unto you, pressing us
above measure, which we receive by Master Martin; who, entering late
into our land, without leave of our king, with greater power than
ever was seen before in any legate, although he beareth not the state
and show of a legate, yet he hath doubled the doings of a legate,
charging us every day with new mandates, and so most extremely hath
oppressed us; first, in bestowing and giving away our benefices, if
any were above thirty marks, as soon as they were vacant, to Italian
persons.

"Secondly, after the decease of the said Italians, unknown to the
patrons, he hath intruded other Italians therein, whereby the true
patrons have been spoiled and defrauded of their right.

"Thirdly, the said Master Martin yet also ceaseth not to assign and
confer such benefices still unto the like persons; and some he
reserveth to the donation of the apostolic see; and extorteth
moreover from religious houses immoderate pensions, excommunicating
and interdicting whosoever dare gainsay him.

"Wherefore, forasmuch as the said Master Martin hath so far extended
his jurisdiction, to the great perturbation of the whole realm, and
no less derogation to our king's privilege, to whom it hath been
fully granted by the see apostolic, that no legate should have to do
in his land but such as he by special letters did send for; with most
humble devotion we beseech you, that as a good father will always be
ready to support his child, so your fatherhood will reach forth your
hand of compassion to relieve us your humble children from these
grievous oppressions.

"And although our lord and king, being a catholic prince, and wholly
given to his devotions and service of Christ Jesus our Lord, so that
be respecteth not the health of his own body, will fear and reverence
the see apostolic, and, as a devout son of the Church of Rome,
desireth nothing more than to advance the estate and honour of the
same; yet we which travail in his affairs, bearing the heat and
burden of the day, and whose duty, together with him, is to tender
the preservation of the public wealth, neither can patiently suffer
such oppressions, so detestable to God and man, and grievances
intolerable, neither by God's grace will suffer them, through the
means of your godly remedy, which we well hope and trust of you
speedily to obtain. And thus may it please your fatherhood, we
beseech you, to accept this our supplication, who in so doing shall
worthily deserve of all the lords and nobles, with the whole
commonalty of the realm of England, condign and special thanks
accordingly."


This supplication being sent by the hands of Sir H. Bigot, knight,
and W. de Powick, esquire, Henry de la Mare, with other knights and
gentlemen, after it was there opened and read, Pope Innocent, first
keeping silence, deferred to make answer thereunto, making haste to
proceed in his detestable excommunication and curse against the good
Emperor Frederic. The which curse being done, and the English
ambassadors waiting still for their answer, the pope then told them
that they should not have their request fulfilled. Whereat the
Englishmen, departing in great anger, sware with terrible oaths, that
they would never more suffer any tribute, or fruits of any benefices,
namely, whereof the noblemen were patrons, to be paid to that
insatiable and greedy court of Rome, worthy to be detested in all
worlds.

The pope hearing these words, albeit making then no answer, thought
to watch his time, and did. First, incontinent upon the same, during
the said council, he caused every bishop of England to put his hand
and seal to the obligation made by King John for the pope's tribute,
as is above specified; threatening moreover, and saying, that if he
had once brought down the emperor Frederic, he would bridle the
insolent pride of England well enough.

But here, by occasion of this Council at Lyons, that the reader may
see upon what slippery uncertainty and variableness the state of the
king did depend, it is material here to interlace the form of a
letter sent by Henry the Third to the prelates of his land, before
they were transported over sea to Lyons; wherein may be gathered,
that the king doubted they would be shoving and heaving at his
royalty; and therefore directed these letters unto them otherwise to
prepare their affections; the tenor whereof followeth.

A letter of charge to the prelates of England, purposed to assemble
in the Council at Lyons, that they should ordain nothing, &c. to
their king's prejudice.


"The king to the archbishops, bishops, and to all other prelates of
his land of England, appointed to meet at a Council at Lyons,
greeting. You are (as you know) bound unto us by oath, whereby you
ought to keep all the fealty that you can unto us in all things,
concerning our royal dignity and crown. Wherefore we command you upon
the fealty and allegiance wherein you are firmly bound unto us,
enjoining that you do your uttermost endeavour as well to get as to
keep, and also to defend, the right of us and our kingdom. And that
neither to the prejudice of us, or of the same kingdom, nor yet
against us or our rights, which our predecessors and we by ancient
and approved custom have used, you presume to procure or attempt any 
thing in your Couucil at Lyons; nor that you give assent to any that
shall procure or ordain aught in this case. upon your oath aforesaid,
and the loss of your temporalties, which you hold of us. Wherefore in
this behalf so behave yourselves, that, for our good dealing and
virtue of thankfulness, we may rather specially commend you, than for
the contrary by you attempted (which God forbid) we reprove your
unthankfulness, and reserve vengeance for you in due time. Witness
myself, &c., the nine and twentieth year of our reign."


In like sort wrote he to the archbishops and bishops, &c. of Ireland
and Gascony.

After this council ended, in the beginning of the next year
following, A.D. 1246, Pope Innocent came to Cluniack, where was then
appointed a secret meeting or colloquy between the pope and Louis the
French king, who was then preparing his voyage to Jerusalem, in which
colloquy the pope sought all means to persuade the French king, in
revengement of his injury, to war contra regulum, as he termed him,
that is, against the weak and feeble king of England, either to drive
him utterly from his kingdom, or else to damnify him, whereby he
should be constrained, whether he would or no, to stoop to the pope's
will and obedience wherein he also would assist him with all the
authority he could. Nevertheless the French king to this would not
agree; first, for the consanguinity that was between them (for their
two queens were sisters). Also for the truce that they had taken.
Thirdly, for fear of the emperor, lest he should take his part. Item,
for that it could not he without the much spilling of Christian
blood. And lastly, because he was preparing his voyage to the Holy
Land, where his coming was already looked for. And thus the French
king, denying the pope's bloody request, refused not only to enter
war against the king and the realm of England, but also shortly after
concluded with him longer truce, A.D. 1246.

Straight upon the neck of this followed then the exaction of
Boniface, archbishop of Canterbury, that he had bought of the pope;
which was to have the first year's fruits of all benefices and
spiritual livings in England for the space of seven years together,
until the sum should come to ten thousand marks. Whereat the king
first was greatly grieved. But in conclusion he was fain at last to
agree with the archbishop; and so the money was gathered.

Over and besides all other exactions wherewith the pope miserably
oppressed the Church of England, this also is not to be silenced, how
the pope, sending down his letters from the see apostolic, charged
and commanded the prelates to find him some ten, some five, and some
fifteen able men, well furnished with horse and harness, for one
whole year, to fight in the pope's wars. And lest the king should
have knowledge thereof, it was enjoined them under pain of
excommunication, that they should reveal it to none, but to keep it
in secret only to themselves.

The pope yet notwithstanding, partly being laboured by suitors,
partly of his own mind thinking good somewhat to give to the king and
people of England, as fathers are wont to give something to their
babes to play withal to keep them still, sent down this releasement
to the king, that hereafter, whensoever any of the pope's nephews or
of his cardinals were to be beneficed in any church of England,
either he or the cardinals should first make the king privy thereto,
and instantly crave his good will in obtaining the procuration, or
else the same to stand in no effect. Howbeit all this seemed to be
done but of a policy to get the king's favour, whereby he might be
suffered more freely to pass with greater exactions, as afterward
appeared.

For when the aforesaid Pope Innocent the Fourth had knowledge at the
same time of certain rich clerks leaving great substance of money,
which died intestate, as of one Robert Hailes, archdeacon of Lincoln,
which died leaving thousands of marks and much plate behind him, all
which, because no will was made, came to temporal men's hands; also
of Master Almarike, archdeacon of Bedford, being found worth a great
substance when he died; and likewise of another, John Hotosp,
archdeacon of Northampton, who died suddenly intestate, leaving
behind him five thousand marks, and thirty standing pieces of plate,
with other infinite jewels besides; he sent forth upon the same a
statute to be proclaimed in England, that whatsoever ecclesiastical
person henceforth should decease in England intestate, that is,
without making his will, all his goods should redound to the pope's
use.

Furthermore, the pope, not yet satisfied with all this, addresseth
new letters to the bishop of Winchester, and to W., bishop of
Norwich, for gathering up amongst the clergy and religious houses in
England six thousand marks to the behoof of the holy mother church,
without any excuse or delay, by virtue of obedience. Which tallage
being greatly grudged of the clergy, when it came to the king's ear,
he eftsoons directeth contrary letters to all the prelates and every
one of them, commanding them, upon forfeiting their temporalities to
the king, that no such subsidy money should be gathered or
transported out of the realm. But the pope again hearing hereof, in
great anger writeth to the prelates of England, that this collection
of money, upon pain of excommunication and suspension, should be
provided, and brought to the new temple in London, by the feast of
the Assumption next ensuing.

And furthermore, forasmuch as he perceived the king to go about to
withstand his proceedings, taking thereat great disdain, he was about
the same time to interdict the whole land. To whom then one of his
cardinals, called Johan. Anglicus, an Englishman born, speaking for
the realm of England, desired his fatherhood for God's cause to
mitigate his moody ire, and with the bridle of temperance to assuage
the passion of his mind; which, said he, to tell you plain, is here
stirred up too much without cause. Your fatherhood, quoth he, may
consider that these days be evil. First, the Holy Land lieth in great
perils to be lost. All the Greek church is departed from us. Frederic
the emperor is against us, the mightiest prince this day in all
Christendom. Both you and we, which are the peers of the church, are
banished from the papal see, thrust out of Rome, yea, excluded out of
all Italy. Hungary, with all coasts bordering about it, looketh for
nothing but utter subversion by the Tartarians. Germany is wasted and
afflicted with inward wars and tumults. Spain is fierce and cruel
against us, even to the cutting out of the bishops' tongues. France
by us is so impoverished, that it is brought to beggary, which also
conspireth against us. Miserable England, being so often plagued by
our manifold injuries, even much like to Balaam's ass, beaten and
bounced with spurs and staves, beginneth at length to speak and
complain of her intolerable griefs and burdens, being so wearied and
damnified, that she may seem past all recovery; and we, after the
manner of Ishmael, hating of men, provoke all men to hate us, &c.

Notwithstanding these words of Johannes Anglicus, his cardinal, the
pope's choleric passion could not yet be appeased, but forthwith he
sendeth commandment with full authority to the bishop of Worcester,
that in case the king would not speedily surcease his rebellion
against his apostolical proceedings, he would interdict his land. So
that, in conclusion, the king, for all his stout enterprise, was fain
to relent at last, and the pope had his money, A.D. 1246.

Ye heard before of the Greek churches under the empire of
Constantinople, how they sequestered themselves from the company of
the Romish church. Insomuch that Germanus. the patriarch of
Constantinople, and the archbishop of Antioch, did excommunicate the
bishop of Rome. And after the said Germanus, another bishop of
Constantinople, at the Council of Lyons, protested, that whereas
before were thirty suffragans belonging to that province, now there
were not three that held with the Church of Rome. And this breach,
albeit it chiefly burst out in the time of Pope Gregory the Ninth,
A.D. 1230, to open war and bloodshed, yet the same had begun, and so
continued long before, in such sort, as in the time of Pope Innocent
the Third, if any priest had said mass in their churches, they would
wash the altar afterward; as appeareth by the Acts of the Lateran
Council, cap. iv. Wherefore Pope Innocent now, (as his other
predecessors had done before,) hearing an old grudge against those
churches of the Greeks, and neither willing by conference to try with
them, nor able by learning to match with them, thought by force of
arms to subdue them, and sent the provincial of the Grey Friars, with
other associates of the same order, into England with his precept
authentical, containing in it these articles.

"1. That the said provincial, or his friars, should inquire upon all
usurers being alive; and of all such evil-gotten goods, gained per
usurariam pravitatem, should make attachment for the use and
preparation for this war against the Greeks, excommunicating all them
by district censures of the church that repugned against it.

"2. That all they which took the badge of the cross, for the recovery
of the said empire of the Greeks, or with goods and cattle would help
sufficiently unto the same, should be absolved of all their sins.

"3. Item, that all the goods left in the testaments of them that were
departed, being gotten by usury, should be taken up to the subsidy of
the empire aforesaid, and whosoever repugned against the same should
be excommunicated.

"4. Item, that such goods as in the testaments of the dead were left,
or which should be left three next years to come, for restitution of
such goods as the dead had evil gotten, they should take up for the
subsidy of the empire aforesaid, excommunicating, &c.

"5. Item, such goods as were left to be distributed in godly uses,
after the arbitrement of executors, by the wills of the dead, or were
not in their wills deputed to any certain places or persons named,
nor yet were bestowed by the said executors to the foresaid uses,
they should collect to the use and subsidy aforesaid, and give
certificate to the see apostolic of the quantity thereof,
excommunicating all repugners and rebellers against the same.

"6. Item, that they should diligently inquire of such men's goods
evil gotten or evil come by as were alive, and them they should
attach for the subsidy aforesaid, in case the party, which ought to
be satisfied for those goods evil gotten, could not be found, giving
certificate thereof, and excommunicating, &c.

"7. Item, that the said provincial, or his friars, should have full
power to absolve those that were excommunicated, which wittingly had
done any fraud touching the collection aforesaid, so that the said
persons did make due satisfaction to the deputies aforesaid."

What man having eyes is so blind which seeth not these execrable
dealings of the pope to be such, as would cause any nation in the
world to do as the wise Grecians did, and perpetually to renounce the
pope, and well to consider the usurped authority of that see not to
be of God? But such was the rude dulness then of miserable England,
for lack of learning and godly knowledge, that they, feeling what
burdens were laid upon them, yet would play still the ass of Balaam,
or else the horse of Æsop, which, receiving the bridle once in his
mouth, could afterward neither abide his own misery, nor yet recover
liberty. And so it fared with England under the pope's thraldom, as
partly by these stories above hath been declared, partly by other in
like case following is to be seen.

For so it followeth in the history of the said Matth. Paris, how the
pope, taking more courage by his former abused boldness, and
perceiving what a tame ass he had to ride upon, ceased not thus, but
directed a new precept the same year, 1246, to the prelates of
England, commanding by the authority apostolic, that all beneficed
men in the realm of England, which were resident upon their
benefices, should yield to the pope the third part of their goods,
and they which were not resident should give the one half of their
goods, and that for the space of three years together, with terrible
comminations to all them that did resist; and ever with this clause
withal, non obstante, which was like a key that opened all locks.
Which sum, cast together, was found to amount to sixty thousand
pounds; which sum of money could scarce be found in all England to
pay for King Richard's ransom. The execution of this precept was
committed to the bishop of London, who, conferring about the matter
with his brethren in the church of Paul's, as they were busily
consulting together, and bewailing the importable burden of this
contribution, which was impossible for them to sustain, suddenly
cometh in certain messengers from the king, Sir John Lexinton,
knight, and Laurence Martin, the king's chaplain, straitly in the
king's name forbidding them in any case to consent to this
contribution, which should be greatly to the prejudice and desolation
of the whole realm.

This being done about the first day of December in the year above
said, shortly after, in the beginning of the next year, 1247, about
February, the king called a parliament, where by common advice it was
agreed, that certain ambassadors should be sent to Rome, to make
manifest to the court of Rome the exceeding grievances of the realm,
delivering, moreover, these letters to the pope, in the name both of
the temporalty and also of the clergy, as here followeth.

Another letter sent to Pope Innocent the Fourth, in the names of the
whole clergy and commonalty of England, A.D. 1247.

"To the most holy father in Christ, and Lord Innocent, by God's
providence chief bishop, the whole commonalty, both of the clergy and
laity, with in the province of Canterbury, sendeth devout kissings of
his blessed feet. Like as the Church of England, since it hath first
received the catholic faith, hath always showed herself faithful and
devout in adhering to God, and to our holy mother the Church of Rome,
studying with all kind of service to please and to serve the same,
and thinking never otherwise to do, but rather to continue and
increase as she hath begun; even so now the same church, most humbly
prostrate before the feet of your Holiness, entirely beseecheth your
clemency to accept her petition, in sparing this imposition of money,
which so manifold ways, for the subvention of other nations; by the
commandment of your Holiness, is laid upon us; considering that not
only it is insupportable, but also impossible, which is enjoined us.
For although our country sometimes yieldeth forth fruit for the
necessary sustentation of the in habitants, yet it bringeth forth
neither gold nor silver, neither were able to bring forth of long
time so much as now-a-days is required. Which also being burdened and
overcharged of late days with another such-like imposition, but not
so great as this, is not able any whit to answer unto that which is
exacted.

"Furthermore, besides this commandment of your Holiness, there is
required of the clergy a subsidy for our temporal king, whose
necessities neither possibly we can, nor honestly we ought, to
forsake, whereby he may both withstand the invasion of the enemy, and
maintain the right of his patrimony, and also recover again that hath
been lost. In consideration whereof, we have directed the bearers
hereof to the presence of your Holiness with our humble supplication,
to explain to you the dangers and inconveniences which are like to
ensue upon the premises, which by no means we are able to sustain,
although notwithstanding we know ourselves by all bonds of charity to
be obliged to your devotion and obedience. And because our general
community hath no seal proper, we have signed therefore these
presents with the public seal of the city of London," &c.

The like letters were sent also unto the cardinals, to the same
effect. The pope, understanding these things, and perceiving that
there was no striving against such a general consent, and yet loth to
forego his sweet harvest, which he was wont to reap in England,
craftily devised to send this answer again unto the king, much like
to the same which he sent before, which was, That although the pope
in time past, upon his own will and pleasure, to the insupportable
grievance of the realm of England, hath every where, and without
respect, through the whole land made his provisions in giving their
benefices unto his Italians, yet now, the Lord be praised, that
tempest, said he, is overblown; so that hereafter, if the pope shall
grant his provision for any of his nephews or of his cardinals, they
shall come first and make their instant suit unto the king, without
all enforcement, so that it shall stand wholly in the king's free
arbitrement to do herein what he thinketh good, &c.

This answer of the pope, albeit it was but a subtle shift for the
time, yet neither did he long stand to that he had thus promised to
the king. For shortly after, and within few days upon the same, and
in the time also of the said parliament holden at Winchester, the
pope sent two English friars into the realm, whose names were John
and Alexander, with full authority, after the largest sort, for new
contributions. Who first pretending lowly submission to the king,
while they had leave granted to range about the realm, afterward,
coming to the bishops and rich abbots, showed themselves forth in
their full authority, in such sort as they became rather tyrants than
extortioners.

Among others, coming to Robert, bishop of Lincoln, who of all other
bare a special mind to the order of Observants, these two friars, as
proud as Lucifer, bringing forth the terrible mandate with the pope's
bulls, required and eke commanded, under the pope's mighty curse, to
have the gathering in his diocess of six thousand marks. Likewise of
the abbot of St. Albans they required four hundred marks, under great
penalty, and that in short time to be paid.

The bishop, although well liking before that order of those friars,
yet seeing the impudent behaviour and more impudent request of those
merchants, thus answered to them again; that this exaction, saving
the pope's authority, was never heard of before, and neither was
honest, nor yet possible to be performed; and, moreover, was such as
did not only concern him, but the whole public state of the clergy,
and of the whole realm in general; and therefore it should be
absurdly and rashly done of him to give them answer herein, before
the king and the rest of the council, with others to whom the matter
generally did appertain, were made privy thereunto, &c., and so for
that time he shook them off.

Furthermore, as touching the abbot of St. Albans, when he also
alleged the same causes, he pretended moreover that he would appeal,
and so did, to the pope and his cardinals. Whereupon immediately was
sent down from Pope Innocent another legate, called Johannes
Anglicus, an English friar and cardinal, who, bringing down a new
special precept to the aforesaid abbot, cited him either to appear at
London the morrow after St. Giles's day, or to disburse to the use of
the pope the aforesaid four hundred marks. By reason whereof the
abbot was driven to send his proctors again, with a new supplication,
to the pope at Lyons; who in the end, through great instance of
monied friends, agreed with the abbot for two hundred marks, besides
his other charges borne, and so was that matter compounded little to
the abbot's profit.

To recite ali damages and grievances received by the bishop of Rome
in this realm of England, neither is any history sufficiently able to
comprehend, nor, if it were, scarcely is there any that would believe 
it. Notwithstanding, to those above declared, this one I thought to
commit likewise to memory, to the intent that they which now live in
this age may behold and wonder in themselves to see into what
miserable slavery, passing all measure, not only the subjects, but
kings also of this realm were brought, under the intolerable yoke of
the pope's tyranny, which in those days neither durst any man cast
off, nor yet was able to abide. As by this example ensuing, with
infinite others like to the same, may appear.

In the year of our Lord 1248, after that Pope Innocent the Fourth had
taken such order in the realm, that all prelates of the church were
suspended from collation of any benefice, before the pope's kinsfolks
and clerks of Italy had been first provided for, it happened upon the
same, that the abbot of Abington had a commandment from the pope to
bestow some benefice of his church in all haste to a certain priest
of Rome; which the abbot, as an obedient child unto his father the
pope, was eager and ready to accomplish accordingly. But the Roman
priest, not contented with such as fell next hand, would tarry his
time, to have such as were principal and for his own appetite, having
a special eye to the benefice of the church of St. Helen in Abington,
which was then esteemed worth a hundred marks by year, besides other
vails and commodities belonging to the same; the collation whereof
the priest required by the authority apostolical to be granted unto
him.

As this passed on, it chanced at last the incumbent to die, and the
benefice to he empty. Which eftsoons being known, the same day cometh
a commandment, with great charge from the king to the abbot, to give
the benefice to one Aethelmare, the king's brother by the mother's
side, who at the same time was possessed with so many benefices, as
the number and value thereof was unknown. The abbot here being in
great perplexity, and not knowing what to do, whether to gratify his
king or to obey the pope, took counsel with his friends; who, well
advising of the matter, gave him counsel to prefer the brother of his
prince and patron, so that the king would undertake to stand in his
defence against the pope, rather than the Romish priest, whom always
he should have lying there as a spy and watcher of him, and like a
thorn ever in his eye; and so the king, assuring the abbot of his
undoubted protection, and indemnity against all harms, the benefice
was conferred forthwith to the king's brother.

The Roman priest, not a little grieved thereat, speedeth himself in
all haste to the bishop of Rome, certifying him what was done, and
partly also (as the manner is of men) making it worse than it was.
Upon whose complaint the pope eftsoons in great anger cited up the
abbot personally to appear before him, to answer to the crime of
disobedience. The abbot trusting upon the king's promise and
protection, (which neither could help him in that case, neither durst
oppose himself against the pope,) being both aged and sickly, was
driven to travel up to the court of Rome, in great heaviness and
bitterness of mind. Where in conclusion, after much vexation and
bitter rebukes, besides great expenses, he was fain to satisfy the
pope after his own will, compounding to give him yearly fifty marks
in part of making him amends for his trespass of disobedience.

To this also may be added another like fact of the pope, as
outrageous as this, against the house of Binham. For when the
benefice of Westle, in the diocess of Ely, was void by the death of
the in cumbent, who was an Italian, and one of the pope's chamber,
the donation of which benefice belonged to the priory of Binham,
another Italian, which was a bastard and unlearned, born in the city
of Genoa, called Heriggetto de Malchana de Valta, brought down the
pope's letters to M. Berardo de Nympba, the pope's agent here in
England, with strict charge and full authority, commanding him to see
the said benefice to be conferred in any case to Heriggetto. Yea, and
though the benefice had been given already, yet notwithstanding the
possessor thereof should be displaced, and the said Heriggetto
preferred; yea, also non obstante that the said pope himself had
before given his grant to the king and realm of England, that one
Italian should not succeed another in any benefice there; yet, for
all that, the said Heriggetto upon pain of excommunication to be
placed therein.

And thus much hitherto of these matters, through the occasion of the
east churches and the Grecians, to the intent all men that read these
stories, and see the doings of this western bishop, may consider what
just cause these Greeians had to seclude themselves from his
subjection and communion. For what Christian communion is to be
joined with him which so contrary to Christ and his gospel seeketh
for worldly dominion, so cruelly persecuteth his brethren, so given
to avarice, so greedy in getting, so injurious in oppressing, so
insatiable in his exactions, so malicious in revenging, stirring up
wars, depriving kings, deposing emperors, playing rex in the church
of Christ, so erroneous in doctrine, so abominably abusing
excommunication, so false of promise, so corrupt in life, so void of
God's fear, and briefly, so far from all the parts of a true
evangelical bishop? For what seemeth he to care for the souls of men,
which setteth in benefices boys and outlandish Italians; and further,
one Italian to succeed another, which neither did know the language
of the flock, nor once would abide to see their faces? And who can
blame the Grecians then for dissevering themselves from such an
oppressor and giant against Christ.

Whose wise example, if this realm had then followed, as they might,
certes our predecessors had been rid of an infinite number of
troubles, injuries, oppressions, wars, commotions, great travels and
charges, besides the saving of innumerable thousands of pounds, which
the said bishop full falsely hath raked and transported out of this
realm of ours. But, not to exceed the bounds of my history, because
my purpose is not to stand upon declamations, nor to dilate common-
places, I will pass this over, leaving the judgment thereof to the
further examination of the reader. For else if I listed to prosecute
this argument so far as matter would lead me, and truth peradventure
would require me to say, I durst not only say, but could well prove,
the pope and court of Rome to be the only fountain and principal
cause, I say not of much misery here in England, but of all the
public calamities and notorious mischiefs which have happened these
many years through all these west parts of Christendom, and
especially of all the lamentable ruin of the church, which not only
we, but the Grecians also, this day do suffer by the Turks and
Saracens; as whoso ever well considereth by reading of histories the
course of times, and vieweth withal the doings and acts passed by the
said bishop of Rome, together with the blind leading of his doctrine,
shall see good cause, not only to think, but also to witness the
same.



55. THE THIRD CRUSADE

Only one narration touching this argument, and yet not transgressing
the office of my history, I mind (the Lord willing) to set before the
reader's eyes, which happened even about this present time of this
King Henry's reign, in the year of our Lord 1244.

In the which year it chanced that Louis, the French king, son to
Queen Blanch, fell very sore sick, lying in a swoon or in a trance
for certain days, in such sort as few thought he would have lived,
and some said he was gone already. Among others, there was with him
his mother, who, sorrowing bitterly for her son, and given somewhat
(as commonly the manner of women is) to superstition, went and
brought forth a piece of the holy cross, with the crown and the
spear, which piece of the holy cross Baldwinus, emperor of
Constantinople, (whom the Grecians had deposed a little before for
holding with the bishop of Rome,) had sold unto the French king for a
great sum of money; and, blessing him with the same, also laid the
crown and the spear to his body, making a vow withal in the person of
her son, that if the Lord would visit him with health, and release
him of that infirmity, he should be crossed, or marked with the
cross, to visit his sepulchre, and there solemnly to render thanks in
the land which he had sanctified with his blood. Thus as she, with
the bishop of Paris, and others there present, were praying, behold
the king, which was supposed of some to he dead, began with a sigh to
pluck to his arms and legs, and so stretching himself began to speak,
giving thanks to God, who from on high had visited him, and called
him from the danger of death. Which, as the king's mother, with
others there, took to be a great miracle wrought by the virtue of the
holy cross; so the king amending more and more, as soon as he was
well recovered received solemnly the badge of the cross, vowing for a
free-will sacrifice unto God, that he, if the council of his realm
would suffer him, would in his own person visit the Holy Land;
forgetting belike the rule of true Christianity, where Christ
teacheth us otherwise in the Gospel, saying, that neither in this
mount, nor in Samaria, nor at Jerusalem, the Lord will be worshipped,
but seeketh true worshippers, which shall worship him in truth and
verity, &c.

After this was great preparation and much ado in France toward the
setting forth to the Holy Land. For after the king first began to be
crossed, the most part of the nobles of France, with divers
archbishops and bishops, with earls, and barons, and gentlemen to a
mighty number, received also the cross upon their sleeves. Amongst
whom was the Earl Atrebacensis, the king's brother, the duke of
Burgundy, the duke of Brabant, the countess of Flanders, with her two
sons, the earl of Brittany with his son, the earl of Barensis, carl
of Saissons, earl of St. Paul, earl of Druis, earl of Retel, with
many noble persons more. Neither lacked here whatsoever the pope
could do to set forward this holy business, in sending his legates
and friars into France, to stir the people to follow the king, and to
contribute to his journey. Whereupon it was granted to the king, to
gather of the universal Church of France, by the pope's authority,
the tenth part of all their goods for three years' space together,
upon this condition, that the king likewise would grant to the pope
the twentieth part for so many years after, to be gathered of the
said Church of France. Which was agreed.

Shortly after this, in the year of our Lord one thousand two hundred
and forty-seven, followed a parliament in France, where the king with
his nobles being present, there was declared how the king of
Tartarians or Turks, hearing of the voyage of the French king,
writeth a letter to him, requiring that he will become his subject.
In the which parliament the time was prefixed for taking their
journey, which should be after the feast of St. John Baptist the very
next year ensuing. Also they that were crossed were sworn to persist
in their purpose, and sentence of the pope's great curse denounced to
all them that went from the same. Furthermore, for the better speed
in his journey, the king through all his realm caused it to be
proclaimed, that if any merchant or other had been injured at any
time by the king's exactors, either by oppression or borrowing of
money, let him bring forth his bill, showing how or wherein, and he
should be recompensed. At which time William Longspath, a worthy
warrior, with the bishop of Worcester and certain other great men in
the realm of England, moved with the example of the Frenchmen,
prepared themselves likewise to the same journey.

The next year after this ensuing, which was 1248, the French king yet
still remaining in his purposed journey, Lady Blanch his mother, also
the bishop of Paris his brother, with the lords of his council and
other nobles, and his special friends, advertised him with great
persuasions to alter his mind, touching that so adventurous and so
dangerous a journey, for that his vow (said they) was unadvisedly
made, and in time of his sickness, when his mind was not perfectly
stablished; and what jeopardies might happen at home it was
uncertain; the king of England being on the one side, the emperor on
the other side, and the Pictavians in the midst so fugitive and
unstable; and as concerning his vow, the pope should friendly
dispense with him, considering the necessity of his realm, and
weakness of his body. Besides all this, his mother upon her blessing
required him, his brethren of all loves desired him, to stay at home,
and not in his person to adventure; others might be sent in his room,
with no less furniture to achieve that enterprise, and to discharge
him of his vow, especially seeing at the making thereof his senses
were feeble, his body weak, and reason through sickness and very
death almost decayed.

To whom the king again, Forasmuch (said he) as you say, that for
feebleness of my senses I took this vow upon me, lo, therefore, as
you here will me, I lay down the cross that I took. And putting his
hand to his shoulder, he tare off the badge of the cross, saying to
the bishop, Here I resign to you the cross wherewith I was signed. At
the sight whereof there was no small rejoicing of all that were there
present. To whom the king then, both altering his countenance and his
speech, thus spake: My friends, said he, whatsoever I was then in my
sickness, now I thank God I am of perfect sense, and reason sound,
and now I require my cross again to be restored unto me: saying,
moreover, that no bread should come in his head before he were
recognised again with the same cross as he was before. At the hearing
whereof all there present were astonished supposing that God had some
great matter to work, and so moved no more questions unto him.

Upon this drew nigh the feast of John Baptist, which was the time set
for the setting forth. And now, being in a readiness, the king in few
days after was entering his journey; but yet one thing lacked. For
the king, perceiving the mortal variance between the pope and good
Frederic the emperor, thought best first before his going to have
that matter appeased, whereby his way both might he safer through the
emperor's countries, and also less jeopardy at home after his
departure; and therefore, upon the same, he took first his way
to.Lyons, where the pope was, partly to take his leave, but most
especially to make reconcilement between the emperor and the pope.

Where is to be noted, by the way, that as touching the good emperor
there was no let nor stay. Who rather sought all means how to compass
the pope's favour, and never could obtain it; insomuch that, before
he should be excommunicated in the Council of Lyons, he not only
answered sufficiently by Thadeus his attorney,discharging himself
against whatsoever crimes or objections could be brought against him;
but so far humbled himself to the pope and the council, that for all
detriments, damages, losses, or wrongs done of his part, what amends
soever the pope could or would require, he would recompense it to the
uttermost. This would not be taken.

Furthermore, if the pope (he said) could not abide his tarrying in
his own dominions and empire, he would go fight against the Saracens
and Turks, never to return into Europe again, offering there to
recover the lands and kingdoms whatsoever did at any time belong to
Christendom, so that the pope only would be contented that Henry his
son (which was then.nephew to King Henry here in England) should be
emperor after him. Neither could this be admitted.

Then he offered, for truth of his promise, to put in the French king
and the king of England to be his sureties, or else for trial of his
cause to stand to their award and arbitrement. Neither would that be
granted.

At last he desired that he might come himself and answer before the
council. But the proud pope in no case would abide that, saying that
he did not yet find himself so ready and meet for martyrdom, to have
him to come thither to the council; for if he did, he would depart
himself, &c.

This obstinate rancour and devilish malice of Pope Innocent and his
predecessor against that valiant emperor, and against the Grecians,
what disturbance and mischief it wrought to the whole church, what
strength it gave to the Saracens and Tartarians, how it impaired
Christian concord, and weakened all Christian lands, not only the
host of the French king did find shortly after, but Christendom even
to this day may and doth feel and rue. Neither can in stories be
found any greater cause which first made the Turks so strong, to get
so much ground over Christendom as they have, than the pestilent
working of this pope in deposing and excommunicating this worthy
emperor. For as there was never emperor of long time which more
victoriously prevailed in bridling and keeping under these enemies of
Christ, or would have done more against them, than the said Frederic
if he might have been suffered; so after the deposing and
excommunicating of him, when the French king neither would abide at
home, as he was counselled, neither was yet able, without the help of
others, to with stand the force and multitude of the said Saracens
and Tartarians, being now joined together, neither yet could the
emperor be suffered by the pope to rescue the king; it followed
thereof, that the good king being taken prisoner, and all his army
destroyed the Turks thereupon got such a hand, and such a courage
against the Christians, that ever since they have burst in further
upon us, and now have prevailed so far, as neither the power of the
pope nor of all Christendom is able to drive them out, as hereafter
by sequel of story is further to be declared.

In the mean time, to return where before we left, when the French
king, coming thus unto the pope at Lyons to entreat for the emperor,
could find no favour, he took his leave, and with great heaviness
departed, setting forward on his journey unto Marseilles, and so
sailed to the isle of Cyprus, where he remained all that winter; so
that, failing into penury and lack of victuals, he was fain to send
to the Venetians, and other islands by, for help of provision. The
Venetians gently sent unto him six great ships laden with corn, wine,
and other victuals requisite, besides the relief of other islands
more. But especially Frederic the emperor, understanding of their
want, so furnished the French camp with all plenty of necessaries,
that it had abundance. Whereupon the French king, moved with the
kindness of the emperor, wrote his special letters to the pope in the
emperor's behalf, but the hard heart of the pope would not relent.
Blanch, the king's mother in France, hearing what the emperor had
done to her son, sent him most hearty thanks, with presents and
rewards manifold.

In this mean time, about the beginning of October, the Frenchmen got
Damietta, being the principal fort or hold of the Saracens in all
Egypt, in the year one thousand two hundred and forty-nine. After the
winning of Damietta, the prince and people of the Saracens, being
astonished at the loss thereof, offered to the Christians great
ground and possessions, more than ever belonged to Christendom
before, so that they might have Damietta to them restored again. But
the pride of the earl of Artois, the king's brother, would in no case
accept the offers of the Saracens, but required both Damietta and
Alexandria, the chief metropolitan city of all Egypt, to be delivered
unto them. The Saracens, seeing the pride and greediness of the
Frenchmen, in no case would abide it; which turned afterwards to the
great detriment of our Christians, as in the end it proved.

First, in the isle of Cyprus, and in the journey before, died the
earl of Palatine, and one of the twelve peers of France, also the
earl of St. Paul and Blesse, who had under him fifty ensigns, which
were all after his death scattered abroad and dispersed; also died
Johannes de Denis, a valiant captain, with many other noble
personages, both men and women, which, by altering the air and diet,
there deceased.
(Illustration: Battle between Crusaders and Saracens )

The next year ensuing, which was 1250, about Ash Wednesday, the
Frenchmen, issuing out of their tents by the city of Damietta, flew
upon the Saracens, which besieged them; and so, after a great number
of the enemies slain, with victory and great spoils returned to their
tents again. Now within the city of Damietta was the queen with her
ladies, the pope's legate, and bishops, with a garrison of horsemen
and footmen, for the defence of the city strongly appointed. The next
day, the Frenchmen supposing to have the like band of the Saracens,
as they had the day before, gave a fresh assault upon them; but in
that conflict the Saracens had so strongly appointed themselves, that
the Frenchmen lost ten times more than they got the day before, and
so, after a great slaughter of their men, retired unto their tents
again. Whereupon the Saracens began to take great hearts and courage
against our men, stopping also the passages round about the city of
Damietta, that no victuals could pass unto them. In like manner the
soldan also, gathering all the galleys about Alexandria and all the
land of Egypt, so enclosed the seas, that no intercourse should be to
them by water.

At length, after long talk and consultation between them on both
sides, the soldan advised them betimes to resign unto him the city of
Damietta, with the furniture which they found therein, and they
should have all the country about Jerusalem, with all the captives of
the Christians friendly restored unto them; wherewith the Christians
(said he) ought to be contented, and to seek no further, but only to
have the land of Jerusalem; which being granted to them, they should
not encroach into their lands and kingdoms, whereto they had no
right. This form of peace, as it liked well the meaner sort of the
poor soldiers, and divers others of the said council and nobility; so
the proud earl of Artois, the king's brother, in no case would as
sent thereto, but still required the city of Alexandria to be yielded
unto them. Which the Egyptians by no means would agree unto.

From that time the French army, being compassed by sea and by land,
began every day more and more to be distressed for lack of victuals
and with famine, being driven to that misery, that they were fain to
eat their own horses in the Lent time, which should have served them
unto other uses. Neither could any Christian, nor Frederic, being
deposed by the pope, be able to send them any succour. Furthermore,
the more misery the Christians were in, the more fiercely did the
Saracens press upon them on every side, detesting their forward
wilfulness. Insomuch that divers of the Christian soldiers, not able
to abide the affliction, privily conveyed themselves, as they could,
out of the camp to the Saracens, who were gladly received and
relieved, and some suffered still to keep their faith, some marrying
wives amongst them, and for hope of honour did apostatize to their
law, and so wrought no little harm to the Christians. The soldan,
being perfectly instructed by these fugitives of all things belonging
to the king's army, sent him word in derision, asking where were all
his mattocks, forks, and rakes, his scythes, ploughs, and harrows,
which he brought over with him, or why he did not occupy them, but
let them lie by him to rust and canker? All this and much more the
king with his French men were fain to take well in worth. It happened
shortly after that this soldan died, being poisoned of his own
servants; which was to the Christians a more heaping of their
miseries. For albeit the said soldan had been a cruel tyrant to the
Christians, yet was he hated of his own people, whereby his strength
was the less; after whom succeeded another much more cruel. Who, as
he was better loved, so he became much stronger by a general
confederacy of all the Saracens which were in the east parts, joining
now together. So that when the Christians desired now to have the
form of peace before proffered, he precisely denied them. And so the
French host, which at first began to be feared, by their pride and
over-much greediness grew more and more in contempt amongst their
enemies, and now was utterly despised.

The Christians, thus seeing all things to go back ward with them, and
how the infidel Saracens daily did prevail, began to murmur against
God, and some also, which were well settled before, to stagger in
their religion, casting out these words of infidelity; How is this
(said they) that the Lord hath left us, in whose cause we fight? How
often within the time of remembrance have we been confounded by these
Saracens and infidels, who with shedding of our blood have enjoyed
great spoils and victories! First, this city of Damietta, which we
Christians had gotten dearly, with effusion of so much Christian
blood, afterwards we were constrained for nought to resign up again.
After that, the army of the Templars, fighting for the holy temple
against the Saracens, near to Antioch, was vanquished, and the
standard-bearer slain in the fields. Again, within these few years,
our Frenchmen, fighting in like manner against the Saracens at the
city of Gazara, were put to the worst, and many afterward out of
captivity ransomed, by Richard, duke of Exeter, brother to the king
of England, Henry the Third. Then came in the Chosmorins, sent by the
soldan of Babylon, which by a wile invaded the Christians in the city
of Jerusalem, where almost all the Christian army being in the Holy
Land were destroyed. And now here our most Christian king, together
with the whole nobility, is like to be in danger utterly to be
overthrown. And how is it that the Lord thus standeth against us, and
fighteth with them? Hath he more regard of them than of us, &c.? Such
murmuring words of an unstable faith many there began to cast out, as
taking displeasure for their sufferings; but not considering on the
other side what idolaters they were, what pride and discord was
amongst them, what cruelty and murder they had showed at home in
persecuting the poor Albigenses, what superstition they first brought
out with them, with what idolatry they proceeded, putting their trust
in masses, in the pope's indulgences, in worshipping of images, and
praying to saints. And what helps then could they look for at God's
hand, which had images in their temples, to fight against them which
had none? Or what marvel, if the Lord of hosts went not with their
army, committing such idolatry every day in their pavilions to their
sacramental bread and wine as they did, and fighting with the
strength of their own merits, and not only by the power of their
faith in Christ, which is only the victory that overcometh the world?
1 John v. Finally, having in their camp the legate of him whom the
Lord taketh to be his enemy; as by example of Frederic the emperor
may be well perceived, who, after he was accursed by Pope Gregory a
little before, coming the same thne in war against the Saracens in
Palestine, God's blessing wrought so mightily with him, that without
any bloodshed he recovered Jerusalem, and set all the country about
it in great quietness, till at last the popish Templars, which at the
pope's setting on went about to betray him to the soldan of Babylon,
and so lost all again by their own malicious mischief that the
emperor before had gotten.

But let us proceed further in this holy progress. The French king
with his army seeing himself distressed, and no good there to be done
against the soldan of Egypt, after he had sufficiently fortified the
city of Damietta, with an able garrison left with the duke of
Burgundy, he removed his tents from thence to go eastward. In whose
army also followed William Longspath, (of whom mention was touched
before,) accompanied with a picked number of English warriors
retaining unto him. But such was the disdain of the Frenchmen against
this William Longspath and the Englishmen, that they could not abide
them, but flouted them, after opprobrious manner, with English tails,
insomuch that the good king himself had much ado to keep peace
between them.

The original cause of this grudge between them began thus: There was,
not far from Alexandria in Egypt, a strong fort or castle,
replenished with great ladies, and rich treasure of the Saracens; the
which hold it chanced the said William Longspath with his company of
English soldiers to get, more by good luck and politic dexterity than
by open force of arms, whereby he with his retinue were greatly
enriched. When the Frenchmen had knowledge hereof, they, being not
made privy thereto, began to conceive a heartburning against the
English soldiers, and could not speak well of them after that. It
happened again not long after, that the said William had intelligence
of a company of rich merchants among the Saracens, going to a certain
fair about the parts of Alexandria, having their camels, asses, and
mules richly laden with silks, precious jewels, spices, gold and
silver, with cart-loads of other wares, besides victuals and other
furniture, whereof the soldiers then stood in great need. He having
secret knowledge hereof, gathered all the power of Englishmen unto
him that he could, and so by night falling upon the merchants, some
he slew with their guides and conductors, some he took, some he put
to flight. The carts, with the drivers and with the oxen, and the
camels, asses, and mules, with the whole carriage and victuals, he
took and brought with him, losing in all the skirmish but one
soldier, and eight of his servitors; of whom notwithstanding some he
brought home wounded to be cured.

This being known in the camp, forth came the Frenchmen, which all
this while loitered in their pavilions, and meeting their carriage by
the way, took all the foresaid prey whole unto themselves, rating the
said William and the Englishmen for so adventuring and issuing out of
the camp without leave or knowledge of their general, contrary to the
discipline of war. William said again, he had done nothing but he
would answer to it, whose purpose was to have the spoil divided to
the behoof of the whole army: when this would not serve, he being
sore grieved in his mind, so cowardly to be spoiled of that, for the
which he so adventurously had travailed, went to the king to
complain. But when no reason nor complaint would serve, by reason of
the proud earl of Artois, the king's brother, which upon despite and
disdain stood against him, he, bidding the king farewell, said he
would serve him no longer. And so William de Longspath, with the rest
of his company, breaking from the French host, went to Acre. Upon
whose departure then said the earl of Artois, Now is the army of
Frenchmen well rid of these tailed people. Which words, spoken in
great despite, were evil taken of many good men that heard him.

Before the arriving of the French army in the land of Egypt, the
soldan of Babylon, having before intelligence of their coming,
committed the custody of Damietta unto a certain prince of his, whom
he specially trusted, committing also to his brother the keeping of
Cairo and Babylon. It followed now after the taking of Damietta, that
the soldan of Babylon accused the prince which had the custody
thereof, before his nobles, of prodition, as giving the city unto the
Christians. Who notwithstanding in judgment did sufficiently clear
himself, declaring how he was certified that the king would land at
Alexandria, and therefore bent all his power to prevent the king's
arrival there. But, by distress of weather, he missing of his
purpose, and the king landing about Damietta, by reason thereof the
city was taken unprovided, he notwithstanding with his company
resisting as well as they might, till they could no longer, and so
departed out, cursing (said he) Mahomet and his law. At which words
the soldan, being offended, commanded him to be had away as a traitor
and blasphemer, and to be hanged, albeit he had sufficiently purged
himself by the judgment of the court. His brother, which was the
keeper of Cairo and Babylon, being therewith not a little grieved,
and bearing a good mind to the Christian religion, devised in himself
how to give the said city of Cairo and Babylon to the French king,
and so in most secret wise sent to the king, showing his full
purpose, and what had happened; and furthermore, instructing the king
in all things how and what be should do, and moreover requiring the
sacrament of baptism, meaning indeed good faith, and sending also
away all the Christian captives which be had with him in prison. The
king, being glad hereof, sent in all haste for William Longspath,
promising a full redress of all injuries past; who, upon hope of some
good luck towards, came at the king's request, and so joined with the
French power again.

To make the story short, the king, setting forward from Damietta,
directed his journey towards Cairo, slaying by the way such Saracens
as there were set to stop the victuals from Damietta. The soldan in
the mean time hearing of the courageous coming of the French host, as
being in great hope to conquer all, sent unto the king by certain
that were next about him, offering to the Christians the quiet and
full possession of the Holy Land, with all the kingdom of Jerusalem,
and more; besides other infinite treasure of gold and silver, or what 
else might pleasure them; only upon this condition, they would
restore again Damietta, with the captives there, and so would join
together in mutual peace and amity. Also they should have all their
Christian captives delivered home, and so both countries should
freely pass one to another with their wares and traffic, such as they
lusted to adventure. Furthermore, it was also firmly affirmed and
spoken, that the soldan with most of his nobles were minded no less
than to leave the filthy law of Mahomet, and receive the faith of
Christ, so that they might quietly enjoy their lands and possessious.
The same day great quietness had entered (no doubt) in all
Christendom, with the end of much bloodshed and misery, had it not
been for the pope and his legate, who (having commandment from the
pope, that if any such offers should come, he should not take them)
stoutly et frontose contradicens (as the words be of the story) in no
wise would receive the conditions offered.

Thus, while the Christians unprofitably lingered the time in debating
this matter, the soldan in the mean time got intelligence of the
compact between the tribune of Cairo and the French king; where upon
he sent in all haste to the city of Cairo to apprehend the tribune
till the truth were fully tried, which seemed to him more apparent,
for that the Christian prisoners were already delivered. Here upon
the soldan, being in some better hope, and less fear, refused that
which before he had offered to the Christians; albeit they with great
instance afterward sued to the soldan, and could not obtain it. Then
the soldan, being wholly bent to try the matter by the sword, sent to
the east parts for an infinite multitude of soldiers, giving out by
proclamation, that whosoever could bring in any Christian man's head
should have ten talents, besides his standing wages. And whosoever
brought his right hand should have five. He that brought his foot
should have two talents for his reward.

After these things thus prepared on both sides to the necessity of
war, the king cometh to the great river Nile, having gotten together
many boats, thinking by them to pass over, as upon a sure bridge. On
the other side the soldan pitcheth himself to withstand his coming
over. In the mean time happened a certain feast amongst the Saracens,
in which the soldan was absent, leaving his tents by the water-side.
Which being foreseen by a certain Saracen lately converted to Christ,
serving with Earl Robert, the king's brother, and showing them withal
a certain shallow ford in the river of Nile, where they might more
easily pass over, the said Earl Robert, and the master of the temple,
with a great power, esteemed to the third part of the army, issued
over the river, after whom also followed William Longspath with his
band of English soldiers. These, being together joined on the other
side the water, encountered the same day with the Saracens remaining
in the tents, and put them to the worse. After this victory gotten,
the French earl, surprised with pride and triumph, as though he had
conquered the whole earth, would needs forward, dividing himself from
the main host, thinking to win the spurs alone. To whom certain sage
men of the temple, giving contrary counsel, advised him not so to do,
but rather to return and take their whole company with them, and so
should they be more sure against all deceits and dangers, which there
might be laid privily for them. The manner of that people (they said)
they better knew, and had more experience thereof, than he; alleging
moreover their wearied bodies, their tired horses, their famished
soldiers, and the insufficiency also of their number, which was not
able to withstand the multitude of the enemies, especially at this
present brunt, in which the adversaries did well see the whole state
of their dominion now to consist either in winning all or losing all,
with other such-like words of persuasion. Which, when the proud earl
did hear, being inflamed with no less arrogancy than ignorance, with
opprobrious taunts be reviled them, called them cowardly dastards,
and betrayers of the whole country, objecting unto them the common
report of many, which said that the land of the holy cross might be
won to Christendom, were it not for the rebellious Templars, with the
Hospitallers and their fellows, &c.

To these contumelious rebukes, when the master of the temple answered
again for him and his fellows, bidding him display his ensign when he
would, and where he durst, they were as ready to follow him as he to
go before them. Then began William de Longspath, the worthy knight,
to speak, desiring the earl to give ear to those men of experience,
who had better knowledge of those countries and people than he had,
commending also their counsel to be discreet and wholesome; and so,
turning to the master of the temple, began with gentle words to
mitigate himself likewise. The knight had not half ended his talk,
when the earl, taking his words out of his mouth, began to fume and
swear, crying out of these cowardly Englishmen with tails. What a
pure army (said he) should we have here, if these tails and tailed
people were purged from it! with other like words of great villany
and much disdain. Whereunto the English knight, answering again,
Well, Earl Robert, said he, where soever you dare set your foot, my
step shall go as far as yours, and, as I believe, we go this day
where you shall not dare to come near the tail of my horse; as in the
event it proved true.

In this mean time the French king, intending to advance forward his
army, thought best to send away such as were feeble and lacked armour
unto Damietta by boats, The soldan, bearing thereof, prepared a great
number of boats to be carried by wain and cart to the water-side,
which, meeting them by the way, drowned and destroyed by wild fire
every one, so that of all that company of our Christians, of whom
some were burned, some slain, some drowned, not one escaped alive,
save one only Englishman, named Alexander Giffard, who, although he
was sore wounded in the chase in five places in his body, yet escaped
to the French camp, bringing word unto the king what was done. And
this was upon the water.

Now upon the land, seeing Earl Robert would needs set forward,
weening to get all the glory unto himself before the coming of the
host, first, they invaded a little village or castle which was not
far off, called Mansor. The country boors and pagans in the villages
by, seeing the Christians come, ran out with such a main cry and
shout, that it came to the soldan's hearing, which was nearer than
our men did think. In the mean while the Christians, invading and
entering into the munition uncircumspectly, were pelted and pashed
with stones by them which stood above, whereby a great number of our
men were lost, and the army sore maimed, and almost in despair. Then
immediately upon the same cometh the soldan with all his main power;
who seeing the Christians' army to be divided, and the brother
separated from the brother, had that which he long wished for, and
so, enclosing them round about that none should escape, had with them
a cruel fight. Then the earl began to repent him of his heady
rashness, but it was too late; who then seeing William the English
knight doughtily fighting in the chief brunt of the enemies, cried
unto him most cowardly to flee, seeing God (said he) doth fight
against us. To whom the knight answering again, God forbid (saith he)
that my father's son should run away from the face of a Saracen. The
earl then turning his horse fled away, thinking to avoid by the
swiftness of his horse, and so taking the river of Thafnis, oppressed
with harness, was there sunken and drowned. Thus the earl being gone,
the Frenchmen began to despair and scatter. Then William de
Longspath, bearing all the force of the enemies, stood against them
as long as he could, wounding and slaying many a Saracen, until at
length his horse being killed, and his legs maimed, he could no
longer stand, who yet notwithstanding, as he was down, mangled their
feet and legs, and did the Saracens much sorrow, till at the last,
after many blows and wounds, being stoned of the Saracens, he yielded
his life. After the death of him, then the Saracens, setting upon the
residue of the army, whom they had compassed on every side, devoured
and destroyed them all, insomuch that scarce one man escaped alive,
saving two Templars, one Hospitaller, and one poor rascal soldier,
which brought tidings hereof to the king.

These things being known in the French camp unto the king and his
soldiers, first of their drowning which were sent to Damietta, then
of the ruin and slaughter of the army, with the king's brother, by
the town of Mansor, there was no little sorrow and heaviness on every
side, with great fear and doubt in themselves what was best to do. At
last, when they saw no remedy, but they must stand manfully to
revenge the blood of their brethren, then the king with his host
passed over the flood of Nile, and coming to the place where the
battle had been, there they beheld their fellows and brethren,
pitifully lying with their heads and hands cut off. For the Saracens,
for the reward before promised by the soldan or sultan unto them that
could bring the head and hand of any Christian, had so mangled the
Christians, leaving their bodies unto the wild beasts. Thus as they
were sorrowing and lamenting the rueful ease of their Christian
fellows, suddenly appeareth the coming of the soldan, with a
multitude of innumerable thousands. Against whom the Frenchmen
eftsoons prepare themselves to encounter; and so the battle being
strucken up, the armies began to join. But alack for pity, what could
the Frenchmen here do, their number first so maimed, their hearts
wounded already with fear and sorrow, their bodies consumed with
penury and famine, their horses for feebleness not able to serve
them? In conclusion, the Frenchmen were overthrown, slain, and
despatched; and seeing there was no flying, happy was he that first
could yield himself. In which miserable conflict the king, with his
two brethren, and a few that clave unto him, were taken captives, to
the confusion of all Christian realms, and presented to the soldan.
All the residue were put to the sword, or else stood to the mercy of
the Saracens, whether to be slain or to remain in woeful captivity.
And this was the end of that sorrowful battle, wherein almost all the
nobllity of France was slain; neither was there one man well near in
the multitude which escaped free, but either was slain or taken
prisoner. Further more, they that were slain or left half alive had
every one his head and hand cut off, upon the soldan's proclamation
above mentioned.

The sultan, or soldan, after the taking of the French king,
fraudulently suborning an army of Saracens to the number of the
French army with the arms and ensigns of them that were slain, made
toward Damietta, where the duke of Burgundy, with the French queen,
and Otho, the pope's legate, and other bishops and their garrisons,
were remaining, supposing under the show of Frenchmen to be let in;
but the captains mistrusting their hasty coming, and misdoubting
their visages, not like to the Frenchmen, shut the gates against
them, and so returned they frustrate of their intent.

The purpose of the soldan was, if he might have gotten Damietta, to
send the French king up higher in the east countries to the caliph,
the chief pope of Damascus, to increase the titles of Mahomet, and to
be a spectacle or gazingstock to all those quarters of the world. The
manner of which caliph was, never to let any Christian prisoner come
out, whosoever came once in his hand. But forso much as the soldan
missed his purpose, he thought, by advice of council, to use the
king's life for his own advantage in recovering the city of Damietta,
as in the end it came to pass. For although the king at the first was
greatly unwilling, and had rather die than surrender Damietta again
to the Saracens, yet the conclusion so fell out, that the king was
put to his ransom, and the city of Damietta was also resigned; which
city, being twice won and twice lost by the Christians, the soldan or
saladin afterward caused it utterly to be razed down to the ground.
The ransom of the king, upon condition that the soldan should see him
safely conducted to Acre, (which I take to be Cesarea,) came to sixty
thousand marks. The number of Frenchmen and others which miscarried
in that war by water and by land come to eighty thousand persons.

And thus have ye the brief narration of this lamentable peregrination
of Louis the French king. In which, when the Frenchmen were once or
twice well offered by the soldan, to have all the kingdom of
Jerusalem and much more in free possession, they, not contented with
that which was reasonable and sufficient, for greediness to have all,
lost all, having at length no more than their naked bodies could
cover lying dead upon the ground; and all through the original cause
of the pope and Otho his legate. By whose sinister means and
pestilent pride, not only the lives of so many Christians were then
lost, but also to the said pope is to be imputed all the loss of
other cities and Christian regions bordering in the same quarters;
forsomuch as by the occasion hereof the hearts of the Saracens on the
one side were so encouraged, and the courage of the Christians on the
other side so much discom fited, that in short space after both the
dominion of Antioch and of Acre, with all other possessions belonging
to the Christians, were lost, to the great diminishing of Christ's
church.

During the time of this good king lying at Acre, or Cesarea, Almighty
God sent such discord betwixt the soldan of Halaphia, and the soldan
of Babylon for letting the king so escape, that the said soldan or
saladin of Babylon, to win the king unto his side, entered league
with him, (whom both his brethren and all his nobles almost at home
had forsaken,) and remitted his ransom, and also restored unto him
such prisoners as were in the said battle found to be alive. Thus the
Lord worketh where man commonly forsaketh.

Another cause, moreover, why the ruin of this French army may
worthily be imputed to the pope is this, for that when Louis the
French king, per ceiving what a necessary friend and helper Frederic
the emperor might be to him in these his affairs against the
Saracens, and therefore was an earnest suitor for him to the pope to
have him released; yet neither he nor the king of England by any
means could obtain it. And although the emperor himself offered to
Pope Innocent, with all humble submission, to make satisfaction in
the Council of Lyons, promising also to expugn all the dominions of
the Saracens, and never to return into Europe again, and there to
recover whatsoever the Christians had lost, so that the pope would
only grant his son Henry to be emperor after him; yet the proud pope
would not be mollified, but would needs proceed against him with both
swords, that is, first with the spiritual sword, to accurse him, and
then with the temporal sword, to depose him from his imperial throne.
Through the occasion whereof, not only the French king's power went
to wreck, but also such a fire of mischief was kindled against
Christendom, as yet to this day cannot be quenched. For after this
overthrow of the French king and his army, the Christians of Antioch,
and of other Christian regions thereabouts, being utterly
discouraged, gave over their holds and cities. Whereupon the
Saracens, and after them the Turks, got such a hand over Christendom,
as to this day we all have great cause to rue and lament. Besides
this, where divers Christians were crossed to go over and help the
French king, the pope for money dispensed with them to tarry still at
home.

But, as I said, the greatest cause was, that the emperor, which could
have done most, was deposed by the pope's tyranny, whereby all those
churches in Asia were left desolate. As touching the which emperor
Frederic, because we have divers and sundry times made mention of him
before, and for that his story is strange, his acts wondrous, and his
conflicts tragical, which he sustained against four or five popes one
after another, I thought (not out of story) in a whole narration to
set forth the same, for the reader to consider what is to be judged
of this cathedral see of Rome, which had wrought such abominable
mischief in the world, as in the sequel of the story following,
faithfully translated out of Latin into English, is to be seen.



56. THE EMPEROR FREDERICK II.

Frederic the Second came out of the ancient house of the Beblins or
Ghibellines, which Ghibellines came of the most famous stock of the
French kings and emperors.

He had Frederic BarBarossa to his grandfather, whose son, Henricus
the Sixth, was emperor after him, who of Constantia, the daughter
(or, as some write, the niece) of Roger the First, king of Sicily,
begat this Frederic the Second.

This Constantia was fifty years of age before she was conceived with
him, whom the emperor, Henry the Sixth, to avoid all doubt and
surmise that of her conception and childing might be thought, and to
the peril of the empire ensue, caused his regal tent to be pitched
abroad in place where every man might resort. And when the time of
his queen's travail approached, Constantia, in presence of divers
ladies and matrons, and other gentlewomen of the empire, a great
number, was brought abed, and delivered of this Frederic, the seventh
day before the kalends of January, in the year of Christ's
incarnation 1193, who by inheritance was king of Naples, Apulia,
Calabria, and Sicily.

HenriCus his father, shortly after he was born, obtained of the
prince's electors, that, by their oath unto him giVen, they would
choose his son Frederic for their emperor after his decease, and so
did, and immediately called him Cæsar, being yet but in his cradle.

This Henry when he died (which was shortly after the birth of
Frederic) committed the protection of him to Constantia his wife, to
Philip his brother, chief governor of Etruria, and to the bishop of
Rome, then Innocent the Third.

Constantia, not long after the death of Henry her husband, being
sickly and growing into age, and thereby not so well able to govern
the troubles and unquiet state of the empire, resigned, and willed by
her testament the safety, both of her son Frederic, and also of his
dominions, to the protection and government of Innocent the Third,
thinking thereby safely to have provided, &c.

This Pope Innocent, as soon as he had the protection of the young
emperor and his seigniories, became, instead of a patron and
protector to him and his dominions, both an enemy and conspirator.
The examples are many. One is, he persuaded Sibylla, the late wife of
Tancred, (whom Henry put from the kingdom of Sicily,) to recover the
same again, and that she should thereunto require Philip the French
king's aid. Whereupon one Walter, being of the noble house of the
earls of Brenno, which in the province of Barrenceeis had great
living, and marrying with Ateria, the eldest daugh ter of Tancred,
once king of Sicily, as is said, now, by the instigation, counsel,
and aid of the French king with the pope, well hoping to recover the
kingdom, entered and invaded with great power Campania and Apulia. At
which time also the same worthy protector, Innocent the Third, sent
his legates with letters of excommunication against all those that
would not admit and take the said Walter for their king.

Another was, that where the prince's electors and other nobles, as
before is said, had promised by their oath to Henricus, that they
would make Frederic his son emperor after his decease, (whom the pope
saw to put their endeavour thereunto to bring it to pass,) absolved
them all from the oath which they had taken and given for the
election of Frederic the emperor, as one not content he should obtain
the same. And further, he raised slanders and defamations against
Philip, whom the electors had chosen to govern the empire, during the
minority of Frederic his nephew. he wrote his epistle, which is yet
extant, to the Duke Barthold of Zaringia to be emperor. Who for that
he gave place to Philip, he went about to procure that Otho, the son
of Henry Leo, should be made emperor, and that the princes and lords
electors of Germany would crown him forth with after the manner of
Aquitaine. He deprived all such bishops as he knew to favour Philip
as emperor, in the defence of his nephew's right. But Philip, whose
cause was better, his skill in martial affairs greater, and in power
and strength mightier, after divers and great conflicts, the
marvellous disturbance and vastation of the whole empire, by God's
help, put the other to the worse. All which calamities and mischiefs
Conrade Lichtenau, at that time living, in his annals most pitifully
complaineth of, and accuseth the bishop of Rome and his adherents to
be the chief authors and devisers of this great and lamentable
mischief, as such that, for to make themselves rich by the spoil
thereof, sought by all means and desired the same.

Not long after, a peace was concluded between Philip and Otho, and
Philip reconciled again to the pope; who within a while after,
between Otho and him, was murdered in his chamber and slain. And then
was Otho again brought tO the imperial seat, and newly elected for
emperor, with the counsel and consent of this Innocent the Third, and
so continued, until that a great variance and discord chanced to
arise between the said Otho and the pope. Whereupon Innocent sought
by all means how against him likewise he might work mischief, and
bring him unto his end. The occasion of this sudden change and
alteration my author maketh no mention of, but that Otho (now being
of great power) invaded and destroyed the dominions of Frederic, as
Flaminia, Picenum, Umbria, Etruria, but chiefly Campania and Apulia,
for that those properly appertained to the inheritance of Frederic.

Thus you see how, first by the counsel and consent of Pope Innocent,
and by his instigation, besides his secret conspiracies, this good
Frederic and his dominions were hurt and endamaged. Then again
through his default what damage he sustained by Otho, who by him and
his means was made so strong as he was; notwithstanding the great
trust he was put in for the protection both of Frederic and his
dominions.

At this time Frederic was come unto the age of twenty years; who in
his youth, by the provision of Constantia his mother, was so well
instructed in letters, and with other arts and virtues so endued,
that at these years there appeared and did shine in him excellent
gifts, both of wisdom and knowledge.

He was excellently well seen in the Latin and Greek tongues, although
at that time learning begun to decay, and barbarousness to increase.
He had also the German tongue, the Italian tongue, and the Saracen
tongue. He daily exercised and put in practice those virtues which
nature had planted in him, as piety, wisdom, justice, and fortitude
insomuch that well he might be compared and accounted among the
worthiest and most renowned emperors his predecessors.

Fazellus (the historian of Sicily in this time) writeth, that
Frederic was again after this had in great honour and estimation with
Innocent; but yet notwithstanding he had no sure confidence in him,
for that he had the suspected name of Frederic his grandfather often
in remembrance, and for that occasion was much desirous to have him
far from Italy.

When Frederic had gathered his power, he purposed to set upon Otho
his enemy; of which thing Otho hearing, (as he was painful in
travel,) came out of Italy with his army into Germany, thinking to
have met Frederic at the river of Rhine, and to have stopped his
passage; but he was deceived of his expectation, and Frederic was
crowned, as the manner of Aquitaine is, before he came. And after
that Frederic in the winter time took his journey to Frankfort; and
after many meetings held in Nuremburg, and after that Otho was dead,
he set the empire in a stay, and the whole country of Germany he in a
manner appeased. And then with all his nobles and princes he returned
to Rome, and by Honorius the Third was with great solemnity
consecrated and called Augustus. Which Honorius succeeded Innocent
the Third in the papal see, and was a great help to Frederic
(although he loved him not) in this behalf, to revenge himself upon
Otho.

After the consecration of Frederic the Second, he gave many great and
liberal gifts, as well unto the bishop of Rome himself, as also unto
the court of Rome besides. Also he gave and assured by his charter to
the Church of Rome the dukedom of Fundanum. For by the insatiable
covetousness of the Romish bishops this wicked use and custom grew,
that unless the emperors elect and crowned would give unto them such
like great and large gifts, they could not obtain of them their conse
cration or confirmation, which for that intent they devised.

Furthermore, Frederic the emperor, willing to show himself more
bountiful and liberal unto the church, neither yet to restrain any
privilege that might benefit the same, gave and admitted those
constitutions which the pope himself would desire, and are yet extant
in their civil law; by which his doings he delivered to their hands a
sword, as it were, to cut his own throat; for the bishops of Rome now
having even what they listed, and all in their own hands, might, by
the pain of proscription, bring what emperor or king they listed
under, and keep them by their own laws, as if they were bound in
certain bands, out of which they might not start. For whatsoever he
were which, for the diminution of the liberties of the church, were
excommunicated, and so continued a year's space, then he should be
within the danger of this proscript, and should not be released
before he had made satisfaction, and were admitted by the pope to the
church and congregation of good men again. Whereby it came to pass,
that whatsoever emperor, in the government of his dominions, should
in any point displease or do contrary to the lust of the bishop of
Rome, he then as enemy to the church was excommunicate. And unless
within a year he were reconciled to them again, by this their
principal law, he was in the proscript. And often it chanced that
princes, to avoid the pain of this proscript, were ready to do
whatsoever the pope would have them, and commanded them to do.

After the consecration of Frederic was with great solemnity finished,
and that the pope and Church of Rome in all ample manner (as is
partly described) were gratified, and yet larger constitutions to
them confirmed, he departed from Rome, and went into Italy, there to
set in order and stay the cities and great towns, for the better
tranquillity of himself, and safety of his subjects, and from thence
into his own provinces and dominions; where he heard of certain that
began to raise and make new factions against him. Amongst whom were
found Thomas and Richard, the brethren of Innocent the Third, earl of
Anaquinos, that held certain castles in the kingdom of Neapolitans
from him by force; which castles he besieged and beat down, and took
from them all that he in them found. Richard he took and sent as a
prisoner into Sicily; but Thomas escaped and came speedily to Rome,
whither also repaired certain bishops and others that were
conspirators against Frederic, as also such others as the fear of the
emperor's laws and their own guilty consciences caused to fly, and
were (that notwithstanding) of this bishop of, Rome, Honorius the
Third, to gratify again the liberality of the emperor bestowed upon
him, under his nose succoured, maintained, and defended. Which thing
when Frederic understood, he began to expostulate with the bishop,
considering the unseemliness of that his deed. Against whom the pope
on the other side was so chafed and vexed, that immediately without
further delay he thundereth out against him, like a tyrant, his
curses and excommunications.

Thomas Fazellus declareth the detestation or defiance to happen
between them somewhat otherwise. There were (saith he) amongst those
which were found traitors to the emperor certain bishops, who, flying
to the pope, requested his aid; whereupon the pope sent his legates
to the emperor, and requested him that he would admit and receive to
favour those bishops which he had banished and put from their
offices, and that he would not intermeddle with any ecclesiastical
charge wherewith he had not to do; and said further, that the
correction and punishment of such matters pertained to the bishop of
Rome, and not to him. And, moreover, that the oversight of those
churches in that kingdom, from the which he had expelled the bishops,
pertained and belonged unto him.

Whereunto Frederic thus replieth: That forasmuch as now four hundred
years and more from the time of Charlemagne, all emperors and kings
in their dominions might lawfully commit to apt and fit men for the
same such ecclesiastical functions and charges as within their
territories and kingdoms fell, that he looked to have the like
privilege and authority also that other his predecessors before him
had. And further said; that he had the same and like authority in the
empire that his father Henry; and Frederic his grandfather, and other
his predecessors, before them had; neither had he so deserved at the
hands of the Church of Rome, either of Honorius himself, to be
deprived of those privileges which his ancestors before him had and
kept. And further, Frederic being chafed and moved with these demands
of the pope, breaketh forth and saith, How long will the bishop of
Rome abuse my patience? When will his covetous heart be satisfied?
Whereunto will his ambitious desire grow? With such-like words more,
repeating certain injuries and conspiracies, both against him and his
dominions, as well by Honorius as Innocent the Third, his
predecessor, as also other like injuries of popes to his ancestors
practised. What man (saith he) is able to suffer and bear this so
incredible boldness and intolerable insolency of so proud a bishop?
Go, saith he, (unto the legates,) and tell Honorius, that I will
hazard both the seigniory of my empire, and crown of my kingdom,
rather than I will suffer him thus to diminish the authority of our
majesty.



57. THE RIGHT OF PRINCES TO APPOINT BISHOPS

Now because much disquietness and controversy hath arisen (for the
most part through all Christendom in every kingdom and realm
severally) for and about the authority of choosing and depriving of
bishops, (as may be seen by the example of this Frederic,) which the
pope only and arrogantly challengeth to himself, and saith it doth
not appertain to another, I thought good not with silence to
overpass; but somewhat to say and to prove the authority of Christian
kings and princes in this behalf to be both sufficient and good.
Which thing not only by the Holy Scriptures is right easy to be done;
but also that it is by synodal decrees and councils divers and sundry
established and confirmed may easily be proved; as also by the
ancient custom and manner of the primitive church may further be
corroborated and made good.

Whereunto appertain certain places collected and gathered out of the
decrees of Gratianus, and especially in these canons, 12; 13, 14, 26,
27, 32, and 63, distinctions. Furthermore, when Christian kings and
princes began to embrace Christ's religion, both for honour and
order's sake it was granted, that when the people desired such
ministers as were convenient, and by them thought meet, that they
which were then in the ecclesiastial function, and chiefest in
authority, should either confirm such as were presented, or else
themselves, should place fit men in their churches as need required.
So did the emperors of Constantinople (receiving the order and manner
from Constantine the Great) use and give the right of ecclesiastical
function, with the consent both of the people and ecclesiastical
persons, and long so retained the same. As Honorius the emperor unto
Boniface, can. 8; dist. 79, and can. 2, dist. 97.. Also by the
example of Pelagius and Gregorius Magnus; of which one in the reign
of. Justinian the emperor and Totila governing Italy, the other in
the time of Mauricius the emperor, (when the Lombards possessed
Italy,) were appointed bishops to the church of Rome.

And whereas Gratianus in the beginning of the 96th and 97th
distinction doth declare, that, the rescript of Honorius the emperor
is void and, of none effect, for that he determined the election of
the bishop of Rome, contrary to the authority of the holy canons,
when as yet neither to the civil magistrate, nor to any of the
ecclesiastical order, can there be read of any licence given them to
dispense it withal, each man may plainly see and discern his great
folly and want of understanding. As though at that time any decrees
were made which should debar emperors from the constituting of the
ecclesiastical ministers; or that it were doubtful whether the
emperors at that time had passed any constitutions touching the
causes of ecclesiastical discipline, and the same laws then put in
use; when the contrary most manifestly (both by the laws and
histories of that age and time, as well of the church as of the
empire) may appear. And, that we need not seek, far for the matter,
this thing is sufficiently proved by these titles; De sacrosanctis
ecclesiis, episcopis, clericis, besides other ecclesiastical chapters
and matters touching religion. All which are to be seen in the books
of the principal and chiefest constitutions, collected and set forth.
by Justinian. Amongst the which many of the chapters are said to be
accepted and allowed of Honorius and Theodosius; so in like case the
21st can. in the 63rd distinction doth declare, that the Grecian
emperors, that next ensued after Justinian, did observe that manner
of ordaining and election of the bishop of Rome, although then at
that time it was somewhat spurned at. Amongst whom mention is made of
Constantiaus the Fourth, which was surnamed Pogonatus.

Charlemagne in like manner followed their steps and manner in the,
same, as in the 22nd canon and the same distinction is declared. And
further, it was at a synodal council, in Lateran (Adrian being high
bishop, where were csqnvented and assembled one hundred and fifty-
three other bishops) decreed; that the power and authority of
creating the bishop of Rome, and ordaining of all other prelates and
ecclesiastical otders, should be in the power and will of
Charlemagne, as well in Italy as in his other dominions and
provinces; and that whosoever was not promoted and allowed by him
should not be consecrated of any; and that those which repugned and
disobeyed this decree should incur the most sharp pain of
proscription and publication of law. The worthy example hereof is
extant in the 18th can. and 18th title. Yet, notwithstanding,
Stephanus the Fourth, author of this rescript against the said
decree, without the emperor's consent, was: made bishop of Rome; who,
to the intent he might elude the decreed and solemnized penalty,
thereby to excuse himself went into France to Ludovicus Pius, the son
of Charlemagne, and at Rheims crowned he him with the imperial
diadem. Neither could this bishop here stay himself; but, spying the
great lenity of the emperor, assayed to make frustrate the foresaid
constitution. For his purpose was, and so he brought it to pass, as
in the 27th can. and the same distinction appeareth, that it might be
lawful for the ecclesiastical order, with the people and senate of
Rome, (without the authority of the emperor,) to choose the bishop of
Rome, reserving that he should not be consecrated without the will
and consent of the emperor. Thus it is manifest that the bishops of
Rome themselves, not regarding, but despising, the strict penalty and
sanction of the foresaid decree of the Lateran council, were not only
the first that brake thesame, but also, by contrary respripts and
constitutions laboured and endeavoured to extol and set up themselves
above all others.

Whereupon Lothaire, afterward being emperor, and nephew to
Charlemagne, coming into Italy; there to dissolve the conspiracy and
confederacy of Leo the Fourth, about the translation of the empire;
renewed and established again the synodal decree of Lateran, touching
the jurisdiction of the emperor for the election of the bishop of
Rome and other ecclesiastical persons. And hereof it came that those
epistles were written of Leo in the 16th and 17th canon, and the same
distinction, which also,.as in the 9th can, and 10th distinction,
made a profession, that the same imperial precepts should be kept in
all ages. This Leo, when he was reproved of treason and other evils,
pleaded his cause before Louis the Second, emperor of Rome, and son
of Lothaire above recited, 2nd question, 7th can. 40.

But after this, as time grew on, the bishops of Rome, nothing
relinquishing their ambitious desires, Otho, the first emperor of
that name, deprived and put from the see of Rome that most filthy and
wicked bishop John the Thirteenth, both for divers and sundry wicked
and heinous acts by him committed, as also for his great treasons and
conspiracies against his royal person, and did substitute in his
place Leo the Fifth; who, calling a synod at Lateran in the same
temple and place where the other before was kept,, did promulgate a
new constitution, with consent of the senate and people of Rome,
concerning the emperor's jurisdiction in the foresaid election; which
in the 23rd canon is contained, and 63rd distinction. Whereby the old
right and power of the emperor in the election of the bishop of Rome,
and other ecclesiastical prelates, was again with sharper and
stricter sanction confirmed and ratified. Again, John the Eighteenth,
whom Crescentius the Roman (usurping the imperial crown) had made
bishop by the consent of the people of Rome and the ecclesiastial
order, having his nose cut off, and his eyes put out, and so thrust
out of the capitol, was again of Otho the Third established and made
bishop. But when as yet notwithstanding the bishops of Rome would not
alter their old accustomed disposition, but with all their industry
endeavoured to abrogate that jurisdiction of the emperor over the
bishop of Rome, (as people loth to be under subjection,) Henry the
Third (then Leo the Ninth, being constituted bishop) did once again
ratify the same, and caused the bishop (which extolled himself,
before all his fellow bishops) to stoop and give place to Moguntius.

So after the death of Henry the Third, emperor, Nicholas the Second,
although in his decree (which in the lst canon and 23rd distinction
is recited) he gave the primacy for the election of the bishop of
Rome, by the means of the priests and people of Rome, unto the
cardinals; yet he would after that that the prerogative therein
should be reserved to Henry the Fourth; the young emperor, from whom
the empire afterwards was for a time wrested and taken.

But now after this, when Hildebrand, which was called Gregory the
Seventh, was pope, this prerogative of the emperor's in their
election, which before in the creation of Alexander the bishop was
neglected and broken, the bishops of Rome not only did seek to
diminish the authority thereof, but also to evacuate and quite undo
the same. For he not only aspired to that dignity without the consent
and appointment of the emperor, but also made restraint, that no
emperor, king, duke, marquis, earl, or any civil magistrate; should
assign and appoint to any, any ecclesiastical function and charge,
neither that any of his prelates should be so hardy as to take them
at any of their hands; as quest. 16, can. 7, 9, and 10, may be seen.

Yet notwithstanding, after that this horrible monster Hildebrand was
proscript and thrust out of the papal seat, and Clement the Third put
in his stead, Henry again challenged his imperial prerogative of
election. But yet, when the bishops which succeeded after this
Hildebrand, and led by his example, began to derogate from the
imperial prerogative of election, and Henry on the other side, by all
the means possible, sought to defend and maintain the same, by the
subtle fraud and mischievous policy of the bishops, which set the son
against the father, and found means to steal from him the hearts of
his nobles and subjects, and to set them all against him, and
especially the princes of Germany, he was deposed and disappointed of
his purpose.

And although Henry the Fifth (coming to Rome) brought Paschalis the
Second to that point, that he, both in public council, and in writing
sealed, and also by oath confirmed, restored again to the emperors of
Rome the prerogative of election, and of giving ecclesiastical
dignities; yet notwithstanding, after that Henry the emperor was gone
from Rome, Paschalis the pope, greatly repenting and sorrowing that
he had done, (in allowing and confirming the privileges of emperors
through fear,) touching the giving and disposing of ecclesiastical
functions, excommunicated the emperor, and in a synodal council at
Lateran ordained and decreed that he should be had and accounted a
wicked enemy, that would take any ecclesiastical function or
preferment at the hands of a civil magistrate; whereupon were made
these decrees, qtr. 16, chap. 7, 13, 14, 15, and 16.

Therefore when these decrees touching the designation of bishops, in
spite and contempt of the emperor, were practised and put in use, and
when that now (especially by the means and procurement of the
bishops) intestine and civil wars began to rise in the empire, the
imperial jurisdiction in this matter was not only weakened and much
debilitate, but also in manner utterly broken and lost. For when
Henry the Fifth, emperor, was sharply of Lotharius and his vassals
the bishops beset, and laid unto by the provocation of the pope, and
was mightily, by the bishops that took his part on the other side,
requested and entreated (in hope of public peace and tranquillity)
that he would condescend and somewhat yield to the pope's demands; he
at length, (the more was the pity,) that he might be reconciled and
have peace with Pope Calixtus the Second, in the city of Vangio,
departed from and with that his prerogative or jurisdiction of giving
ecclesiastical preferments to the pope and his prelates, now more
than three hundred years, from the time of Charlemagne, in the hands
of the emperors of Rome, and until this time with great fortitude and
princely courage conserved and kept; which resignation turned to no
small detriment both of the church of Christ and Christian
commonwealth.

Then first, and never before, obtained the bishop of Rome, and
quietly enjoyed, that prerogative of election and bestowing of
benefices, which he so long before with such great policies, now
secretly, now openly, and now with force, had sought for. And with
what sufficient and good authority Gratianus will prove, that before
this time the same authority was given to the city of Rome for the
election of the pope without the consent of the emperor, he showeth,
as in the 29th and 30th canon, and what good stuff he putteth in the
latter, and how subtlely that papistical flatterer or pontifical
parasite hath forged the same, both Carolus Molinæus sufficiently in
divers places hath noted, and by the observation of times may of a
mean historiographer, that hath read the French and German histories,
soon be espied and discerned. For, first, five bishops one after
another succeeded this Gregory the Fourth, upon whom the 29th canon
is entitled or fathered; that is, Sergius the Second, John the
Eighth, Adrian the Second, John the Ninth, and Adrian the Third.
Which Adrian, by force, wresting the authority of the election from
the people, was made pope; whenas Gregory (specially to be noted)
would not take on him the papacy before that the emperor had
consented to his election. After this, Molinæus compareth Raphael
Volateran with the 30th canon, which again is suspected. For why?
When Eugenius was bishop, who was the successor of this Paschal, with
whom Louis the Pious is said to have made a league or paction, the
same Louis the Pious, with his son Lotharius, together with the help
of the king of Romans, at Rome made laws both to all his subjects in
the empire, as also to the Romans themselves; speaking nothing of the
renewing of the decree made by Lotharius. Then again, how could Leo
the Fourth write to Lothaire and Louis, emperors, that counterfeit or
forged decree beginning with Constitutio, &c., when in the same
mention is made of Henry the Fowler, and Otho the First, which
reigned more than fourscore years after them, and Leo the Fourth,
bishop of Rome?

Now with what face dare this fond fellow Gratianus make Otho the
First to be author of the 31st canon, whenas Otho deprived the same
John the Twelfth of the papacy; and not only took nothing from the
imperial jurisdiction concerning the election, nor from the city of
Rome, nor any other bishops subject to the Roman empire, but added
somewhat more thereunto, as was said before. And yet,
notwithstanding, so shameless and senseless was this Gratian, that he
durst obtrude and lay before the reader so manifest fraud and evident
legerdemain, (feigned, and made of his own brains in the compiling of
this decree,) being so necessary, as he thought, for the dominion and
primacy of the Roman bishops, in the stead of good and true laws;
neither fearing that the same might be after his days reprehended,
neither to his great shame and discredit to him attributed. Where
also, by the way, is to be noted, that as this graceless Gratianus,
to please these holy fathers, and to erect their kingdom, would give
so impudent an attempt to the blinding and deceiving of all
posterities, inserting for grounded truths and holy decrees such loud
lies and detestable doctrine, what may be thought of the rabble of
the rest of writers in those days? what attempts might hope of gain
cause them to work! by whom, and such like, is to be feared the
falsifying of divers other good works now extant, in those perilous
times written.

Thus when the bishops had once wrested this authority out of the
emperor's hands, they then so fortified and armed themselves and
their dominion, that although afterwards Frederic the First,
grandfather unto this good emperor Frederic the Second, as also Louis
the Pious, and Henry of Luxemburg, (as men most studious and careful
for the dignities of the empire, unfeigned lovers and maintainers of
the utility of the commonweal, and most desirous of the preservation
and prosperity of the church,) did all their endeavours with singular
wisdom and strength, as much as in them lay, to recover again from
the bishop of Rome this authority of the imperial jurisdiction lost,
most cruelly and wickedly abusing the same, to the destruction both
of the empire, undoing of the commonwealth, and utter subversion of
the church of God; yet could they not be able to bring the same to
pass in those dark and shadowed times of perverse doctrine and errors
of the people, and most miserable servitude of civil magistrates.

The same and like privilege also in the election of their bishops and
prelates, and disposing of ecclesiastical offices, as the emperor of
Rome had, every prince and king in their several dominions had the
like. For by the decree of the Council of Toletan, which in the 25th
canon and 63rd distinction is mentioned, the authority of creating
and choosing bishops and prelates in Spain was in the power of the
king of Spain. The like also by the histories of Clovis, Charlemagne,
Louis the Ninth, Philip Augustus, Philip the Fair, Charles the Fifth,
Charles the Sixth, Charles the Seventh, kings of France, is apparent
and well known; for all these kings had the chief charge and
government of the French Church, and not the bishops of Rome.

And by our English histories also, as you heard, it is manifest, that
the authority of choosing ecclesiastical ministers and bishops was
always in the kings of England, till the reign of King Henry the
First; who, by the labour and procurement of Anselm, archbishop of
Canterbury, was deprived and put from the same.

Also the princes of Germany and electors of the emperor, till the
time of Henry the Fifth, had all (every prince severally in his own
empire and province) the same jurisdiction and prerogative to give
and dispose ecclesiastical functions to their prelates at their
pleasure, and after that it appertained to the people and prelates
together. And how, in the reign of Frederic, the prelates gat unto
themselves alone this immunity, John of Aventine in his seventh book
of the Annals of the Boiores doth describe.

Also it is probable that the kings of Sicily had the same faculty in
giving and disposing their ecclesiastical promotions and charge of
churches. And that because Frederic defended himself against the
tyranny of the bishop of Rome, therefore (as Fazellus saith) he was
excommunicated of Honorius; but that Platina and Blondus allege other
causes wherefore he was excommunicate of Honorius, I am not ignorant;
howbeit, he that will compare their writings with others, that write
more indifferently between Honorius and him, shall easily find that
they more sought the favour of the Roman bishops than to write a
verity. But now again to the history of Frederic.



58. THE EMPEROR FREDERICK II. (contd.)

Nicolaus Cisnerus affirmeth, that whilst Frederic the emperor was in
Sicily, his wife Constantia died at Catiana, or Catana. In the mean
time the Christians, which with a great navy sailed into Egypt, and
took the city Heliopolis, commonly called Damietta, and long ago
named Pelusinum, being in good hope to have driven Sultanus the
soldan out of Egypt, had a great and marvellous overthrow by the
conveying of the water of the flood Nile, (which then overflowed into
their camp,) and were fain to accord an unprofitable truce with the
soldan for certain years, and to deliver the city again; and so,
departing out of Egypt, were fain to come to Acre and Tyrus, to the
no small detriment and loss of the Christian army. Whereupon King
John, surnamed Brennus, (being king of Jerusalem,) arrived in Italy,
and prayed aid of the emperor against his enemies, in whom he had
great hope to find remedy of the evils and calamities before
declared; and from thence he went to Rome to the pope, declaring unto
him the great discomfit and overthrow past, as also the present peril 
and calamity that they were in, desiring also his aid therein. By
whose means (as Cisnerus saith) the emperor was reconciled again to
the pope, and made friends together; to whom also King John gave Joel
his daughter in marriage, which came of the daughter of Conradus,
king of Jerusalem, and marquis of Montserrat; with whom he had for
dowry the inheritance of the kingdom of Jerusalem, as right heir
thereunto by her mother. By whom also he after obtained the kingdom
of Naples and Sicily, and promised that, with as much expedient speed
as he might, he would prepare a power for the recovery again of
Jerusalem, and be there himself in proper person; which thing to do
for that upon divers occasions he deferred, (whereof some think one,
some another,) Honorius, unto whom he was lately reconciled, purposed
to have made against him some great and secret attempt, had he not
been by death before prevented.

After whom succeeded Gregorius the Ninth, as great an enemy of
Frederic as was Honorius; which Gregory came of the race whom the
emperor (as before ye heard) condemned of treason which they wrought
against him. This Gregory was scarcely settled in his papacy, when
that he threatened him greatly with excommunication, unless he would
prepare himself into Asia, according to his promise, as ye heard
before, to King John; and what the cause was why the pope so hastened
the journey of Frederic into Asia you shall hear hereafter. In
effect, he could not well bring that to pass which in his mischievous
mind he had devised, unless the emperor were further from him.
Notwithstanding, Frederic, it should seem, smelling a rat, or
mistrusting somewhat, (as well as he might,) alleged divers causes
and lets, as lately and truly he did to Honorius.

Fazellus, a Sicilian writer, saith that the special cause of the
emperor's stay was, for the oath of truce and peace during certain
years, which was made between the Saracens and Christians, as you
heard, which time was not yet expired.

The same Fazellus also writeth thus of King John of Jerusalem, that
when his daughter was brought to Rome, the emperor and the pope were
reconciled together. And being called up to Rome to celebrate the
marriage, Pope Gregory (as the manner of those proud prelates is)
offered his right foot unto the emperor to kiss. But the emperor, not
stooping so low, scarcely with his lip touched the upper part of his
knee, and would not kiss his foot; which thing the pope took in very
evil part, and was therewith marvellously offended. But for that no
opportunity at that time served to revenge his conceived grudge and
old malice, he dissembled the same, as he might for that time,
thinking to recompense it at the full, as time would serve and fall
out therefore.

After this, it fortuned that the emperor, hearing how the Christians
were oppressed by the soldan in Syria, and that from Arsacida there
came a great power against the Christian princes, he made the more
haste, and was with more desire encouraged to set forward his journey
into Asia. Wherefore, assembling the nobility of the empire at
Ravenna and Cremona, he gave in commandment to Henry his son, (whom
not long before he caused to be created Cæsar,) that he should
persuade the nobles and princes of the empire, that they all would be
ready to put to their helping hands, in furthering this his journey
and enterprise. This writeth Fazellus. Howbeit, some others affirm
that these things were done in the time of Honorius. But howsoever
the matter is, this thing is manifest, that Frederic, to satisfy the
pope's desire, which never would give over, but by all means sought
to provoke him forward, gave him at length his promise, that by a
certain time he would prepare an army, and fight himself against
those which kept from him the city of Jerusalem, (which thing he also
confesseth himself in his epistles, and also how he desired and
obtained of the peers and nobility of the empire their aid
thereunto,) and also appointed a convenient time when they should be
at Brundusium.

In the mean season, he with all his power and endeavour made speedy
and hasty preparation for the wars; he rigged and manned a puissant
navy; he had the most picked men and best soldiers that were in every
country; and made warlike provision and furniture for every thing
that to such a voyage and expedition appertained. Neither was the
matter slacked, but at the time appointed great bands assembled and
mustered, both of German soldiers and others, and, under their
captains appointed, set forth and marched to Brundusium; (their
generals were Thuringus and Sigibert, and Augustin the bishop;) where
they long time lying, and attending the emperor's coming, being let
by infirmity and sickness, great pestilence and sundry diseases
molested them, by reason of the great heat and intemperance of that
country; and many a soldier there lost his life; among whom also died
Thuringus, one of their generals. The emperor, when he had somewhat
recovered his health, with all his navy launched out and set forward
to Brundusium. And when he came to the straits of Peloponnesus and
Creta, being islands lying in the sea, and there for lack of
convenient wind was stayed, suddenly the emperor (his diseases
growing upon him again) fell sick; and sending before all or the most
part of his bands and ships into Palestine, promising them most
assuredly to come after and follow them so soon as he might recover
and get never so little health, he himself with a few ships returned
and came to Brundusium, and from thence, for want of health, went
into Apulia.

When tidings hereof came to the pope's ear, he sent out his
thundering curses and new excommunications against the emperor. The
causes whereof I find noted and mentioned by his own letters; that
is, how that when he had robbed and taken from Brundusius, prince of
Thuring, his horses, his money, and other rich furniture of his house
at the time of his death, he sailed into Italy; not for the intent to
make war against the Turk, but to convey his prey that he had stolen
and taken away from Brundusius; and so, neglecting his oath and
promise which he had made, and feigning himself to be sick, came home
again: and that by his default also Damietta was lost, and the host
of the Christians sore afflicted. Fazellus, besides these causes
spoken of before, doth write that the pope alleged these also: that
he defiled a certain damsel, which was in the queen's nursery; and
that he slew his wife when he had whipped her in the prison, for
declaring the mischievous act to her father King John. But all the
writers, and also Blondus himself, doth declare, that this Joel died
after the publication of the proscript and excommunication; wherefore
the pope could not without great shame allege the cause upon the
death of Joel; for undoubtedly the truth is, that she of her son
Conrad died in childbed. Then Frederic, to refel and avoid the
foresaid slanders, sendeth the bishop of Brundis and other legates to
Rome, whom the pope would not suffer to come to his presence, neither
yet to the councils of the cardinals, to make his purgation.
Wherefore the emperor, to purge himself of the crimes which the pope
did so falsely accuse him of, both to all Christian kings, and
especially to the princes of Germany, and all the nobles of the
empire, writeth his letters (which are to be seen) that those things
are both false and also feigned, and of the pope's own head invented;
and showeth how that his ambassadors with his purgation could not be
suffered to come to the pope's presence: also doth largely treat how
unthankful and ungrateful the bishops of Rome were towards him for
the great benefits which both he and also his predecessors had
bestowed upon them and the Roman church; which letter, for that it is
over-tedious here to place, considering the discourse of the history
is somewhat long, the sum of the purgation is this.

He protesteth and declareth universally, that he had always great
care for the Christian commonwealth, and that he had determined even
from his youth to fight against the Turk and Saracens. And for that
occasion he made a promise to the prince's electors of Aquisgrane,
how that he would take the war upon him. Afterward he renewed his
promise at Rome when he was consecrated of Honorius; then when he
married the daughter of the king of Jerusalem, which was an heir of
the same. And for because that kingdom might be defended and kept
from the injuries of the enemies, and because he favoured it even as
he did his own, he prepared a huge navy, and gathered together a
strong army of men; neither did he neglect any thing that belonged to
the furniture of the war. But when the time was come, and his band
was gathered together, his sickness would not suffer him to be there.
And afterward, when he had recovered the same, and came to
Brundusium, and from thence without any disturbance went forthwith to
sea, he fell into the same sickness again, by the which he was let of
his purpose, which thing (saith he) he is able to prove by sufficient
testimony. How the pope also doth lay the losing of Damietta, and
other things which prospered not well with him, unjustly to his
charge, whenas he had made great provision for the same journey, both
of soldiers and other necessary things. But he that will understand
these things more plainly, among other epistles of Petrus de Vineis,
written in the name of Frederic, let him read these especially which
begin thus: In admirationem, et justitiam, et innocentiam, et Levate
oculos. And truly, even as Frederic the emperor declareth in his
letters concerning this matter, all the old writers of Germany do
accord and agree in the same.

Matth. Parisiensis also briefly collecteth the effect of another
letter which he wrote to the king of England, complaining unto him of
the excommunication of the pope against him, whose words are these:
"And amongst other catholic princes (saith he) he also wrote his
letters unto the king of England, embulled with gold, declaring in
the same that the bishop of Rome was so inflamed with the fire of
avarice and manifest concupiscence, that he was not contented with
the goods of the church, which were innumerable, but also that he
shamed not to bring princes, kings, and emperors to be subjects and
contributors to him, and so to disherit them, and put them from their
kingly dignities; and that the king of England himself had good
experiment thereof, whose father (that is to say, King John) they so
long held excommunicate, till they had brought both him and his
dominions under servitude, and to pay unto him tribute. Also that
many have experience of the same by the earl of Toulouse and divers
other princes, which so long held their persons and lands in
interdict, till they might bring them into like servitude. I
pretermit (saith he) the simonies and sundry sorts of exactions (the
like whereof was never yet heard) which daily are used amongst the
ecclesiastical persons, besides, their manifest usury (yet so cloaked
and coloured to the simple sort, that therewithal they infect the
whole world). They be sugared and embalmed simonists, the insatiable
horse-leeches or blood-suckers, saying that the Church of Rome is our
mother and nurse, whereas it is indeed the most polling court in the
universal world, the root and right mother of all mischief, using and
exercising no motherly doings or deeds, but bringing forth the right
exercises of a wicked stepdame, making sufficient proof thereof by
her manifest fruits to all the world apparent. Let the barons of
England consider whether this be true or not, whom Pope Innocent by
his bulls with one consent encouraged to rise and rebel against their
sovereign lord and prince, King John, your father, as an obstinate
enemy to the Church of Rome. But after that the king (far out of
square) remembering himself had crouched unto him, and obliged both 
himself and kingdom to the Church of Rome, more like a woman than a
man, and that the wise barons, whom the pope had first maintained and
stirred up, without all shame, either of the world or fear of God,
had done the same, he sought how he might with gaping mouth devour
and consume the sweet fat from them, whom he had miserably to death
betrayed and disherited, as the manner of the Roman bishops is. By
whose greedy avarice it came to pass that England, the prince of
provinces, was brought under miserable subjection and tribute. Behold
the manners and conditions of our Roman bishops; behold the snares
wherewith these prelates do seek to entangle men withal, to wipe
their noses of their money, to make their children bondmen, to
disquiet such as seek to live in peace; being clothed with sheep's
clothing, when indeed they be but ravening wolves; sending their
legates hither and thither to excommunicate and suspend, as having
power to punish whom they list; not sowing the seed, that is, the
word of God, to fructify, but that they may bribe and poll men's
persons, and reap that which they never did sow. Thus cometh it to
pass that they spoil the holy churches and houses of God, which
should be the refuge for the poor, and the mansion-houses of saints,
which our devout and simple parents to that purpose builded and
ordained to the refection of poor men and pilgrims, and to the
sustentation of such as were well disposed and religious. But these
degenerate varlets, whom only letters have made both mad and
malapert, do strive and gape to be both kings and emperors.

Doubtless the primitive church was builded and laid in poverty and
simplicity of life, and then as a fruitful mother begat she those her
holy children, whom the catalogue of saints now maketh mention of;
and verily no other foundation can be laid of any other church than
that which is laid by Jesus Christ. But this church, as it swimmeth
and walloweth in all superfluity of riches, and doth build and raise
the frame in all superfluous wealth and glory; so is it to be feared
lest the walls thereof in time fall to decay, and when the walls be
down, utter ruin and subversion follow after. Against us, he knoweth
that is the searcher of all hearts, how furiously these Catholics
rage and go to work; saying, and therefore excommunicating me, that I
will not take upon me the journey I have promised beyond the seas;
whereas inevitable and most urgent causes and perils, as well to the
church of God as also to the empire, besides the annoyance of mine
infirmity and sickness, do detain me at home, and stay the same, but
specially the insolency of the rebellious Sicilians. For why? Neither
do we think it safety to our empire, nor expedient to the Christian
state, that we should now take our journey into Asia, leaving behind
us at home such intestine and civil wars; no more than for a good
surgeon to lay a healing plaster to a grievous wound new made and
stricken with the sword. In conclusion also this he addeth,
admonishing all the princes of the world, that they would beware and
take heed (by their avaricious iniquity) of like peril and danger to
themselves, because that, as the proverb is, It behoveth him to look
about that seeth his neighbour's house on fire."

But now, that Frederic the emperor might in very deed stop the
slanders of the cruel pope, which did persist and go forward still in
his excommunication against him; and that he might declare to the
whole world, how that the last year he delayed not his journey by his
own voluntary will, but by necessity; when he had devised and
prepared all things meet for the war, and that he had gathered
together and levied a great army of men, he departed from thence to
Brundusium, committing the government of his kingdom to Reinald, the
son of Duke Spoletus, and to Anselm, a baron of Instigensis, and came
by sea to Cyprus with his host.

From Cyprus the emperor with his whole navy sailed into Joppa, which
city he fortified, for that the passages by land were stopped and
kept of the enemies; and by sea he might not pass nor travel, by
means of the extreme weather and tempest; whereby it came to pass
that within short space they lacked victuals, and were sore afflicted
with famine. Then fell they to prayer, and made their humble
supplication to God; with whose tears his wrath being appeased, the
great tempest and long continued foul weather ceased, whereby (the
seas being now calm) they had both victuals, great plenty, and all
other necessary things for their need brought unto them, whereby,
immediately it came to pass, that both the emperor and his army, as
also the inhabitants of Joppa, were greatly refreshed and animated;
and, on the other side, their enemies being disappointed of their
purpose, were greatly discouraged; insomuch that the king of Egypt,
who with great power, accompanied with Scarapho his brother, prince
of Gaza, and the prince of Damascus, their nephew, with many other
dukes and nobles, had encamped themselves within one day's journey of
Joppa, thinking to have besieged the same, were contented upon the
coming of the emperor's heralds unto them to treat of a peace.
Whereupon ambassadors were sent unto them with the emperor's demands,
right profitable to the Christian commonwealth. The Saracens
(immediately consulting upon the same) granted thereunto; so that a
peace for ten years was concluded, and was confirmed by solemn oath
on the behalf of both princes, according to their several usages and
manner, the form and condition of which articles of peace briefly
collected are these:

First, that Frederic the emperor should be crowned and anointed king
of Jerusalem, according to the manner of the kings of Jerusalem
before him.

Secondly, that all the lands and possessions which were situate
betwixt Jerusalem and Ptolomaida, and the greatest part of Palestine,
and cities of Tyrus and Sidon, which were in Syria, and all other
territories which Baldwin the Fourth at any time had and did occupy
there, should be delivered unto him, only certain castles reserved.

Thirdly, that he might fortify and build what fortresses and castles,
cities and towns, he thought good, in all Syria and Palestine.

Fourthly, that all the prisoners which were in the Saracens' hands
should be ransomed freely and sent home; and again, that the Saracens
might have leave without armour to come into the temple where the
Lord's sepulchre is to pray; and that they should hold and keep still
Chratum and the king's mount.

Frederic now, for that he thought the conclusion of this peace to be
both necessary and also profitable for all Christians, and had also
gotten as much thereby as if the wars had continued he should, sent
his legates with letters into the west to all Christian kings,
princes, and potentates, as also to the bishop of Rome, declaring
unto them the circumstance and success of his journey and wars, as
partly ye have heard; requiring them that they also would praise and
give God thanks for his good success and profitable peace concluded;
and desireth the pope, that forsomuch as he had now accomplished his
promise, neither was there now any cause wherefore he should be with
him displeased, that he might be reconciled and obtain his favour.

In the mean season the emperor with all his army marcheth to
Jerusalem; where, upon Easter day, in the year one thousand two
hundred and twenty-nine, he was with great triumph and comfort of all 
his nobles, and also the magistrates of that kingdom, (only the
patriarch of. Cyprus, the king's legate, and Oliver, the master or
captain of the temple, with his company excepted,) solemnly and with
great applause crowned king.

After this, he re-edifieth the city and walls thereof, which by the
Saracens were beaten down and battered. After that, he furnisheth it
with munition, he buildeth up the churches and temples that were
ruinous, he fortifieth Nazareth and Joppa with strong garrisons,
victuals, and all other things necessary.

Now see and behold, I pray you, whilst Frederic was thus occupied in
the kingdom of Jerusalem, what practices the pope had in Italy; not I
warrant you any whit at all careful in the affairs of the Christian
commonwealth, but studying and labouring what mischief and spite he
might work against the emperor, whom of set purpose he had so
occupied, partly for hate, and partly to enrich himself, in Asia and
Jerusalem, so far out of Italy ye may be sure. First, he caused the
soldiers, which the emperor sent, for out of Germany to the
maintenance of the holy wars, to be stayed as they passed through
Italy, letting them of their journey, and took from them and spoiled
them of all such provision as they had. And not only this, but he
sent secretly also his letters into Asia to those that were of his
own faction, that is, to the patriarch of Jerusalem, and soldiers
that kept the temple and the hospital, enticing and inciting them to
rebel against the emperor; which thing Blondus himself, that popish
parasite or historiographer, dissembleth or hideth not. But
furthermore, he dissuaded the princes of the Saracens, that they
should make no league nor take any truce with Frederic, neither
deliver up unto him the crown and kingdom of Jerusalem. Which
letters, as they were manifest testimonies of his treachery and
treason towards him, whom God had instituted and made his liege lord
and sovereign, and mightiest potentate upon earth; so was it his will
that he should come to the knowledge thereof, and that those letters
should fall into his hands. And that he kept the same letters for the
more credible testimony thereof, in the same his last epistle unto
the Christian princes he protesteth. The copy of which letters
amongst his other epistles you shall have expressed.

Neither were the pope's letters written to that leavened and factious
sect in vain; for the patriarch and his collegians, which took their
name of the temple, did mightily repugn against Frederic. They raised
a tumult in Ptolomaida against him; they accused him and his legates
openly of treason; and did malapertly and boldly withstand the right
worthy and good order he made amongst them. But, as God would, by the
help of the inhabitants of Pisa and the Genoese, and the Dutch
soldiers, both their false accusations were refelled, and also their
seditious purpose and tumult repressed. And this was the cause that
when all other men rejoiced and were glad of the emperor's
coronation, they, as wicked confederators, were heavy therefore, and
detractors of his worthy laud and fame.

The pope, when he had thus conspired against Frederic, and had
betrayed him to the public enemy of all Christian men, the Turk, he
could not dissemble this his mischievous fact, nor content himself
therewith, but he would devise and practise yet another. For by
reason of those slanders (which a little before I touched) of the
death and slaughter of his wife Joel, he incited John Brennus his
father-in-law to make war against him, who caused the subjects of his
empire to withdraw from him their allegiance, as also the inhabitants
of Picenum, and inhabitants of Lombardy. And thus joining themselves
together, they craved further aid of the French king, whereby they
made a great power. That done, they divided their host in two armies,
invading with the one the empire, and with the other the proper
territories and dominions belonging to the inheritance of Frederic;
John Brennus and Pandolph Savellamis leading the one (as generals)
into Campania and the kingdom of Naples, and the other (with John
Columna, cardinal, his legate, and that Thomas before convicted of
treason, being his lieutenants) he sendeth into Picenum.

Of this treason of the pope against Frederic doth also Matth. Paris
make mention, during his wars in Asia, who saith he purposed to have
deposed him, and to have placed alium quemlibet filium pacis et
obedientiæ loco ejus subrogare; that is, any other, he cared not
whom, (so that he were the child of peace and obedience,) in his
stead. And, for the more certainty there of, the said Matth. Paris,
pag. 71, repeateth the letter which a certain earl of Syria wrote
unto him concerning the same, which letter hereunder ensueth word for
word.

"To the high and mighty prince, Frederic, by the grace of God emperor
of Rome, and ever Augustus, and most puissant king of Sicily, Thomas,
earl of Actran, his faithful and trusty subject in all things, humble
salutation. After your departure, most excellent prince, Gregory, the
bishop of Rome, and public enemy to your magnificence, gathering
together a great power and host of men by Johannes Brennus, late king
of Jerusalem, and other stout captains, whom he hath made generals of
the same his host, as a foreign enemy invading your dominions and
possessions of your highness's subjects, against the law of
Christianity, hath purposed and determined to vanquish and subdue you
with the material or temporal sword, whom he cannot master and
overcome with the spiritual sword, he saith. For the aforesaid John
Brennus, gathering out of France, and other provinces near adjoining,
a great army, giveth unto them of the treasure he hath gotten
together, by what means I cannot tell, great wages, in hope to
recover and get from you the empire. And furthermore, the same John
and others, the captains of the see apostolical, invading your land,
burn and destroy all as they go, driving away and taking for their
booties all that they can come by, as well cattle as other things,
and such as they take prisoners they constrain, by afflicting them
with grievous punishments, to ransom themselves for great sums of
money; neither spare they man, woman, nor child, but take and keep
your towns and castles, having no regard that you be in the service
of Jesus Christ. And further, if any make mention of your Majesty
unto him, he saith there is none other emperor but himself. Your
friends and subjects, most excellent prince, much marvel hereupon;
yea, and also the clergy themselves of the empire do marvel with what
conscience, or upon what consideration, the bishop of Rome can do the
same, making such bloody wars and slaughter upon Christian men;
especially seeing that Christ commanded Peter, when he struck with
the material sword, to put up the same into the scabbard, saying, All
that strike with the sword shall perish with the sword. Or else by
what law he daily can excommunicate such pirates, burners of men's
houses, and robbers, when he is the patron and maintainer of such
himself, hereat they greatly muse and marvel. Wherefore, most mighty
and renowned emperor, I beseech your Highness to consider your own
safety, for that the said John Brennus hath laid and fortified all
the ports and havens with no small company of men and soldiers; that
if, not knowing thereof, your Grace should arrive in any of them, the
same garrisons of his may apprehend and take you as a prisoner, which
thing to chance God forefend."

Thus, whilst the host of this hostile enemy the pope was encamped in
the dominions of Frederic, he received the letters which Frederic by
his legates sent into Europe, as you heard, whereby he understood the
good success he had in Asia; who not only took no delectation at all
therein, but was also in a vehement perturbation therewith. Whereby
manifestly it may appear what was the cause and meaning of the pope,
that he was solicitous and urgent to have Frederic the emperor make a
voyage into Asia. Doubtless even the same that Pelias had, when by
his instigation he procured Jason with all the chosen youth and
flower of Greece to sail into Colchis, to fetch away the golden
fleece; and that by the opportunity of his absence he might use, or
rather abuse, his power and tyranny; and that Frederic might either
be long afflicted and molested in the Asian war, or that he might
perish and lose his life therein, was that he sought, and all that he
desired.

And when he saw that fortune neither favoured his fetches, nor served
to his longing lust, he was, as a man bereft of his wits, specially
at these tidings of the prosperous success of the emperor. He tore
and threw his letters on the ground, and with all opprobrious words
rebuked and reviled the legates for the emperor their master's sake;
which thing also Blondus himself denieth not, though he write
altogether in the favour of the pope. And to the intent that he might
cover this his rage and unbridled fury with some cloak and colour of
just deserved dolour, he feigned himself therefore so much to mislike
therewith, as though the emperor therein had only respected his own
private commodity, not regarding the utility of the Christians, for
that the Saracens had licence (although without armour and weapon) to
have repaired unto the sepulchre of Christ, and had left for them
somewhat near the same an hostery or lodging-place; for which
occasion (saith Blondus) his lord pope rebuked the emperor's legates
by the name of traitors and suchlike other opprobrious words. Now go
to, friend Blondus, by what strong arguments prove you and your lord
pope, either that the peace which the emperor hath concluded was
against the Christian commonwealth, or that the emperor was a
traitor? But who is it that seeth not these things, either by reading
of old and ancient writers, or else partly by me that have gathered
and collected the same out of divers monuments and histories, and
plainly perceiveth not the conspiracies and treasons of your good
lord the pope, so notable and filthy, as also his manifest shame and
infamy? What! there be divers that write how the pope commanded these
legates of Frederic to be made secretly out of the way, and also how
he commanded divers soldiers, returning out of Asia, to be slain, to
the end that none should hear the report of those good news which
were in Asia, nor any go thither to tell the fetches he had in hand
at home. But I will make report of no more than of those things which
all the writers with most consent agree upon. This is most certain,
that the pope caused this rumour to be spread of the death and taking
of the emperor upon this consideration, that he might allure unto him
the fidelity of those cities in the kingdom of Naples which yet kept
their allegiance unto Frederic, of whom they should now hope for no
longer refuge. And of that doth the emperor, in his epistle entitled
Levate oculos, greatly against him complain.

Great are these injuries of the pope against Frederic, and most
wicked treasons. But herewith could not the cruel and tyrannical mind
of him be contented, nor his lust satisfied, but it so far exceeded,
as scarce is credible that it could; for he presumed not only to set
variance between Henry (whom Frederic his father had caused to be
made king of Germany) and him, but also by his allurements he caused
him to become an enemy unto him. To whom when his father had assigned
the duke of Boioria (named Ludovicus) to be his overseer and
counsellor; neither knew he amongst all the princes of Germany a man
more faithful to him in his office and duty, or else more virtuous,
or else more grave and apt to be in authority; Henry, fearing lest he
should understand and know of these secret counsels, which he with
his conspirators had in hand against his father, or that he should
utter the same unto him, or that he should go about to dissuade him
from that he was purposed to do by authority of the court and senate
of Rome, he put him out of office. And this was the fetch of all
their policy, that together and at one instant, but in divers and
sundry places far one from another, sharp and cruel war might be made
against the emperor, so that, his power being divided to the
appeasing of variable contention, he might himself be the easier
oppressed of a few.

When the emperor now understood what stir the pope kept in all his
dominions in his absence, and when he had somewhat reformed and
appeased the troubles which he secretly had wrought him in the
kingdom of Jerusalem, thinking to prevent the pope's purpose in that
he went about, and also to confirm the friendship towards him of them
whom in his absence he found his trusty subjects, he left in Asia
Reinaldus, with his garrisons, commanding all the other bands to be
under his appointment; and with all speed he came forth in certain
galleys to Calabria. During the time of his there being, which
unlooked for came thither, he assembled his power, and made with his
friends all the speedy preparation that he might. From thence he went
to Berletta, where he tarried twenty days, to whom came the duke of
Spoletanum, with all his garrisons; and so from thence, with all his
power, he came into Apulia, and removed John Brennus his father-in-
law from the siege of Calatia, and within short time, by God's help,
recovereth again all his holds and dominions there. And from thence,
going into Campania, he winneth Beneventum, and as many other towns
and holds as the pope had there, even almost to Rome, and so after
that Umbria and Picena. And now, although the emperor (being moved
thereunto upon good occasion, and upon the pope's worthy desert) had
gotten and recovered this so, likely an entrance upon the pope's
dominions, whereby he might have revenged him of all the injuries
done to him; yet, notwithstanding, for that he preferred nothing
before the Christian and public tranquillity, (for the love of which
he restrained his wrath so vehemently urged and kindled,) he sendeth
unto him his legates to entreat a peace, declaring unto him, that if
no other conceived grudge towards him were than that he dissembled
and pretended, he promiseth that he would make to him an account
voluntarily of all things that ever he had done in his life, and that
he would and was contented to submit himself unto the church, and
also that for this cause he willingly offered unto him both duty and
observance. Furthermore, to the entreating of this peace, and
deciding of all controversies, he sent to the pope eight or ten of
the noblest and chiefest about him that were princes and dukes of the
empire; as Barthold, the patriarch of Aquileia, and his brother Otho,
prince of Dalmatia and Istria, Eberhardus Juvanensis, Sigifridus,
Reginoburgensis, Sibbotus, Augustanus, a worthy prelate, Leopold of
Austria and Styria, and Bernhardus, being all dukes, besides others
of the nobility to accompany them.

But yet so great was the insolence and pride of the stubborn pope,
that by no gentleness or beneficence he could of those princes be
brought that year to the profitable concord of the church and
Christian commonwealth. O worthy head, that challengeth all authority
to himself in the church of Christ, and, in respect of his own wilful
revenge, setteth nothing by the health and utility of all
Christendom! Then, therefore, when nothing could be done in the
matter, and the most part of these noblemen departed from Rome, the
next year after, with much ado, a peace was made and concluded
between them, by the help and industry of Leopold of Austria,
Hermanus, captain of the Dutch soldiers, and the president of
Messina. The pope then absolving the emperor Frederic of his
excommunication, took therefore of him one hundred and twenty
thousand ounces of gold, restoring unto him again the titles both of
his empire and also of his kingdoms. Now, considering the uncourteous
dealing of the pope with Frederic the emperor herein, who can
sufficiently muse and marvel at the unshamefacedness of Blondus,
which hath the face to write, that the pope (yet notwithstanding) had
dealt more gently and courteously with Frederic than was meet or
beseemed him to do? Who is it that doth not see his manifest
flattery, coloured neither with reason nor secret dissimulation? But
much more truly and better writeth Cuspinian concerning this matter,
which saith that the pope doth occupy very profitable merchandise,
which for so much money selleth that he received freely, paying
nothing therefore, if he had received it of Christ indeed, as he
saith he had.

And yet although the emperor Frederic concluded with the pope this
unprofitable peace for himself, yet he performed those things that
were agreed upon faithfully and diligently. But the pope, which
thought it but a trifle to break his promise, would not stand to the
conditions of that peace he. made. For, by the way, to pass over
other things, neither had he restored, as he promised, the customs of
the land of Sicily, neither yet the city Castellana, which he before
the peace concluded between them did occupy and enjoy. And that do
both Frederic in his epistles testify, and also Fazellus in his
eighth book, writing of the affairs of Sicily. Yet, notwithstanding,
Frederic, for the quietness and utility of the commonwealth, purposed
with himself to bear and suffer these small injuries, and further
studied in all that he might, as well by liberal gifts as otherwise,
to have the pope to be to him a trusty friend. As when the Romans and
others of the ecclesiastical number made war against the pope for
certain possessions which he kept of theirs, he coming to him at
Reat, and as one that tendered the unity of the church, and thinking
to help the pope at his earnest request in these matters, sent his
legates unto them, willing them to lay down their armour which
against the pope they bare. And when that would not serve, at the
pope's further request and desire, he levied an army against them at
his own charge, and drave them from the siege of Viterbium, with
other such-like assured tokens of amity and friendship which he
showed him. Who, notwithstanding, so soon as the emperor was departed
with a small company which he took with him into Sicily, leaving with
him the greater and most part of his army for the maintenance of his
wars, concluded a peace with the Romans, unknown to the emperor, whom
he had procured to travel and labour therein with great expenses;
affirming that, without his 'will and commandment, the emperor had
expelled them, and driven them out of the territories of Viterbium.
And hereof doth Frederic also himself make mention in his second and
third epistle, where he complaineth of the injuries of the pope
towards him.

Therefore greater commendation had Blondus deserved, if he had
written of these treacheries of the pope, than forgetting himself, as
unto liars often it chanceth, in writing, both contrary to himself in
the effect of this matter, and contrary to the verity of Frederic's
story; which saith, that the Romans were incited to these new tumults
by his enticing and setting on. As though simple men of understanding
could not both by the offering of his son in hostage, by the great
preparation of the wars, and by the event especially of the thing
itself, gather the contrary. But too impudent will Blondus needs show
himself.

Whilst that these things were done in Italy and Sicily, great
rebellions were moved in Germany against the emperor by Henry Cæsar
and Frederic of Austria, his sons, being the chief authors thereof.
For Henry, being disappointed and shaken off from his lord pope, and
other conspirators, by reason of the peace between his father and
him, (as ye heard,) began now to make open challenge to the empire.
And for that cause he (as before is said) put from him Louis, whom he
knew to be unto the emperor his father so loving and assured a
friend; who as willingly (perceiving and smelling what mischief he
went about) forsook his court, and came to Boioria; who had not there
remained a year, but was, as he walked abroad at a certain time,
stabbed in with a dagger of one Kelhemius, and presently died, his
servants not being far from him; of whose death divers diversely
write. Notwithstanding the sequel doth show them to write truliest,
that affirm the said striker to be suborned by Henry Cæsar who,
coming unto him in the habit of a messenger, delivered unto him
certain letters, which he feigned to be sent from the emperor. And
whilst Ludovicus was in reading the same, he struck him in with a
dagger, and gave him his mortal wound, and with speed fled upon the
same. After whose death succeeded in that dukedom his son Otho; who,
when solemnly, according to the manner of the Boiores, he should have
been created, was also let by the same Henry Cæsar; who forbade the
assembly of the magistrates and citizens the same. They,
notwithstanding, neglecting his unjust restraint, created him;
wherefore he first besieged Reginoburgh, and with another company
sacked, burnt, and wasted Boioria; with many more such great outrages
and rebellions.

When intelligence was brought of these things to the emperor, he sent
his legates, and commanded that both the Cæsar his son, and other
princes of Germany, which had assembled their armies, should break up
and disperse the same. And because he saw and perceived now
manifestly that his son made so apparent rebellion against him, and
fearing greater insurrections to ensue in Germany, he thought good to
prevent the same with all expedition. Wherefore he determined to go
in all haste to Germany with his army, from whence he had now been
absent fourteen years, and hereunto he maketh the pope privy. The
pope promised the emperor hereupon, that he would write his letters
in his behalf to all the princes of Germany; but persuaded him to the
uttermost of his power that he should in no case go into Germany
himself. For why? His conscience accused him that he had written to
the nobles in Germany, even from the beginning of his papacy, for the
hate and grudge he had against the emperor, that they should not
suffer him, nor any of his heirs, to enjoy the empire ; and further,
had stirred them all up to rebel against him ; and had moved Henry
the emperor's son, by his bribes and fair promises, to conspire
against his father. And, to conclude, he was the author and procurer
of the conspiracy which the Lombards made then against him ; and
fearing lest these things should come now to the emperor's ear, he
was greatly troubled and careful. But the emperor, not thinking it
good at so needful a time to be absent, he, all doubt set apart, with
his second son Conrad, went speedily into Germany. And assembling
there a council in the city of Nuremburgh, Henry Cæsar his son, after
his conspiracy was manifestly detected, which he had in practice with
the Longobards, (whereof the pope was chief author,) was by judgment
and sentence of seventy princes condemned of high treason, and being
commanded by his father to be bound, was as prisoner brought to
Apulia, where not long after in prison he died. In whose stead he
ordained Conradus his second son Cæsar, by consent of all the peers
and princes. Furthermore, by public commandment he renounced Frederic
of Austria for his son, and he caused him to be proclaimed an enemy
to the public weal. And further, when he saw that neither that
punishment could cause him to remember himself, and acknowledge his
abuse, the emperor with a great army, accompanied with divers of the
noblemen of Germany, took from. him all Austria and Styria, and
brought them again under his own obedience and fidelity.

The same year married he with his third wife, named Isabella, the
daughter of King John of England. Then, when he had set Germany in a
stay and quietness, he left there Conrad Cæsar his son; and with his
host returneth again into Italy, thereto punish such as had with
Henry his eldest son conspired against him ; whose treasons were all
detected at the condemnation of Henry Cæsar his son, chiefly set on
by the pope. When the pope had understanding that the emperor with
warlike furniture marched toward Italy, although he feigned himself
reconciled, and to be a friend to Frederic, yet was he
notwithstanding to him a most secret and infestive enemy. And
understanding that he brought with him such a power, both of horsemen
and footmen, to do execution of such as he understood to be
conspirators against him in the late tumult and rebellion, those
which were faulty herein and guilty, and all other that took their
parts, he admonished to join themselves together, and that they
should furnish strongly their cities with garrisons, that they should
send for aid to their friends, and that with all the force they were
able they should prepare them for the war. The rest of the cities
also in Italy, whether they were the emperor's or his own, he
endeavoureth to make them all his, and proper to himself.

Furthermore, unto the emperor he sendeth his ambassadors ; to whom,
under the pretence of nourishing a peace, he had given a secret
commandment, that they should interdict him and his host, so soon as
he came within the borders of Italy. To the preservation of which
peace, saith he, he had, but late since, promulgated a subsidy to be
gathered amongst the Christians, when he began the holy war. And also
to say, not by way of entreaty, but commandingly, that what cause of
controversy he had with the Longobards, the same he should commit to
him, and stand to his arbitrement. Whereunto the emperor replying
maketh his legate this answer :

Shortly after, saith he, the peace was made between the pope and me,
he called me for a chief defence, both of the church and himself,
against the Romans which made war with him ; and, at his request,
with mine own proper charge I maintained that his war, and gave his
enemies the overthrow. And further said, that he should not do well,
through the pretence of peace, to be a let to him from that which
both by law and right he might and ought to do ; but rather he ought
to dispose himself with force to distrain and expel them, which
gathered them together as rebels, thinking to exclude themselves from
the subjection both of him and the empire; and that such rebels as
both had restrained the soldiers which the emperor sent for when he
was in Asia, and divers others also, (which for necessary causes he
had called to him,) which they had so wickedly dealt with and abused,
he (as they had deserved) should rather desire to see punished and
reformed, than to maintain them, under colour of peace, being so
wicked and manifest evil-doers. And touching that he demandeth of
him, that he should commit and defer so great a cause, wherein the
wealth and safety of the empire consisteth, to his arbitrement, by
him to be determined, without either assignment of any time when, or
adding thereunto any condition or exception for not doing the same,
neither the diminishing and impairing the dignity and regality of his
empire considered, he could not but marvel; seeing that neither it
appertained to his calling and faculty, nor to the benefit or
commodity of the empire. To this effect also writeth Frederic in his
last epistle unto the pope; the effect whereof amongst other epistles
you may read.

And in the same his letters he showeth, that when the emperor at a
certain time had been with the pope, at his going away he requested,
that when he came again, he would come into Italy, but with his
household band and family; for that if he should come as before he
did accustom with his army, he should terrify them overmuch; amongst
whom (saith he) you may assure yourself to be in great safety, and
find all things in rest and quiet; when, quite contrary, (as the
emperor for a certainty had tried,) he had there all things ready and
prepared for his destruction; so that when he pretended unto him
greatest friendship, he was busiest in conspiring his death. The
certain time when the pope had this exercise in hand against the
emperor I cannot search out, neither may it be in his epistles
undated easily found out; but that of the certainty thereof no man
need to doubt, I have assigned you to the emperor's epistle, where he
maketh mention of the same.

The emperor then, as he had determined, prosecuteth his purpose, and
marcheth into Italy, where he brought under his subjection those
cities that against him rebelled, as Mantua, Verona, Ternisium,
Patavium, and others. And then he afterward set upon the great host
of the Mediolanenses, the Brixians, the Placentines, and other
confederators, unto whom the pope's legate, Georgius Longomontanus,
had joined himself; of whom he took one thousand prisoners, and also
their general, being the chief magistrate in the city of Mediolanum,
and Petrus Tenopolus, the duke's son of Venice, and slew divers
captains more, and took all their ensigns. And in this battle,
especially at the recovering of Marchia and Ternissana, he used the
friendly aid of Actiolinus.

The pope now somewhat dismayed at this overthrow of his confederates
and mates, though not much, began yet somewhat to fear the emperor;
and whereas before that which he did he wrought secretly and by
others, now he goeth to work with might and main to subdue and
deprive the emperor. And although the emperor saw and perceived what
inward hate and mortal malice he bare towards him, not only by that
he so apertly stood with his conspirators against him, but also that
on every side he heard, and from all parts was brought him certain
word, how greatly he laboured against him, as with opprobrious words,
naughty reports, and slanders, to the intent to pull from him the
hearts and fidelity of his subjects, and make those that were his
friends his enemies, neither that he meant at any time to take up and
cease from such evil and wicked practices; yet, notwithstanding, for
that there should be no default in him found for the breach of the
league and peace between them a little before concluded, he sendeth
four legates to the bishop of Rome, which should answer unto and
refute those iniquitous objections which he laid unto him, as also
make him privy unto his purpose, and what he meant to do, thereby to
declare his innocency towards him in such causes, and simplicity.

The bishop, when he understood these ambassadors to be not far off
from Rome, and knew the cause of their coming, he thought with
himself, that, in hearing the excuse and reasonable answer of the
emperor, perhaps he might be provoked to desist from his purpose, and
so degenerate from others of his predecessors, he refuseth to speak
with them, and, at the day appointed, pronounceth the sentence of
proscription against him, depriving him of all his dignities,
honours, titles, prerogatives, kingdoms, and whole empire. And that
he had no occasion hereunto, as well Pandulph and Colonucius, as the
letters of the emperor himself, do both right well declare. For it
may appear he dedicated, as it were, himself to his utter ruin and
destruction, when he did solicit against Frederic Jacobus Tenopolus,
the Venetian duke; whom, for the displeasure he took with the emperor
in the imprisoning of his son, he was in good hope he should allure
unto him, he being in so troublous a time such a comforter and aider
unto him, that, as Blondus writeth, in a certain epistle gratulatory,
he calleth him lord of the fourth part of Croatia and Dalmatia, and
lord of half of the Roman empire. And calling unto him the Venetian
and Genoese legates, he made a peace betwixt them, (which for certain
causes about their sea-coasts were at variance,) and covenanted with
them upon this condition, that at their public charges they should
rig and man five and thirty galleys, which should spoil and burn all
along the sea-coasts of the kingdoms and dominions of Frederic.

But the pope, when he saw the good-will and fidelity which the duke
of Venice bare unto the emperor, and saw also what aid the emperor
had of him, neither that he was like to win him to his purpose, then
had he recourse again to his old crafty practices and subtleties. And
further, he devised to put forth an edict at Rome to the universal
church and people, the beginning whereof is, Ascendit de mari bellica
bestia; wherein he declareth the causes wherefore he curseth and
giveth the emperor to the devil of hell, and hath dejected him from
all his princely dignity. He in the same accuseth him of so many and
so huge a heap of mischiefs, as to nominate them my heart detesteth.
And besides that, he restraineth his sovereign lord and emperor of
the appellation, which every private man by law may have. He
slandereth him of treason, perjury, cruelty, sacrilege, killing of
his kindred, and all impiety; he accuseth him for a heretic, a
schismatic, and a miscreant; and, to be brief, what mischief soever
the pope can devise, with that doth he charge him and burden him. All
this doth he, saith the pope, that when he hath brought our Holiness
and all the ecclesiastical estate to beggary, he might scoff at and
deride the religion of Christ, which as a miscreant he detesteth. And
now for that the pope had a great and special trust in Albertus
Behavus, of the noble house called Equestri, as crafty an apostle as
the best, as one whom he saw ready to lean to his lust, to him the
pope delivered two other mandates in several letters sealed, in which
he commanded all bishops, prelates, and other of the clergy, that
they should solemnly recite the same in their churches instead of
their sermon, that by his decree he had excommunicated Frederic out
of the fellowship of Christian men, put him from the procuration or
government of the empire, and that he had released all his subjects
of their allegiance and fidelity towards him. And furthermore
chargeth them, and all other Christian men, under pain of cursing and
damnation, that neither they succour the emperor, nor yet so much as
wish him well. Thus he, being the pope's special and trusty servitor,
and made to his hand, caused a most horrible confusion and chaos of
public unquietness, as shall after appear.

Amongst all other noblemen of Germany at that time, was Otho, the
governor of the Rhine, and duke of Boioria, towards the emperor both
most serviceable, and also a prince of great honour, riches, and
estimation. This prince, both with fair promises and also rewards, he
enticed from him; for that he was made by him to believe that Louis
his father, of whom we spake before, was by the emperor murdered and
slain. And the same Otho again caused three other princes and dukes
to revolt from the emperor to the pope, which were neighbours and
near adjoining unto him, as Uvenceslaus and Belus, princes of the
Hungarians, and Henry, duke of Polonia. To whom came also Frederic of
Austria, his son; who, because he was proscript or outlawed of his
father, and had his dukedom wasted and burnt, as you heard, was
easily won unto the pope. These, gathering a council, (when they had
thought to have translated the empire unto the king's son of
Denmark,) desired to have the pope's legates to be sent from him, to
the effect of that election.

The emperor was at Patavium when these news were brought unto him
what the pope had done at Rome. Therefore he commanded Peter of
Venice, his secretary, (upon Easter day,) to make a narration to the
people of his great and liberal munificence to the bishops and Church
of Rome; and again, of the injuries of them toward him in recompence
thereof; of his innocency also in that whereof he had accused him,
and of the unseemliness of such an act or deed; of the right use of
the ecclesiastical censure, and of the errors and abuse of the Church
of Rome. By which oration of his he so removed the cloud from many
men's hearts of blind superstition, and the conceived opinion of
holiness of the Church of Rome, and bishops of the same, and also of
their usurped power and subtle persuasion, that both they plainly,saw
and perceived the vices and filthiness of the Church of Rome and
bishops of that see, as also their fraudulent deceits and flagitious
doings, most vehemently lamenting and complaining of the same. Albert
maketh mention of certain verses which were sent and written between
the bishop of Rome and the emperor. The which verses, in the latter
end of this present history of Frederic, you shall find.

The emperor moreover, both by his letters and legates, giveth
intelligence unto all Christian kings, to the princes of his own
empire, to the college of cardinals, and people of Rome, as well of
the feigned crimes wherewith he was charged, as also of the cruelty
of the bishop of Rome against him. The copy of which letter or
epistle follows hereunder inserted.

The emperor to the prelates of the world.

"In the beginning and creation of the world, the inestimable
foreknowledge and providence of God (who asketh counsel of none)
created in the firmament of heaven two lights, (a greater and a
less,) the greater he created to govern the day, and the less to
govern the night; which two so do their proper offices and duties in
the zodiac, that although oftentimes the one be in an oblique aspect
unto the other, yet the one is not enemy to the other, but rather
doth the superior communicate his light with the inferior. Even so
the same eternal foreknowledge hath appointed upon the earth two
regiments, that is to say, priesthood and kingly power; the one for
knowledge and wisdom, the other for defence; that man, which is made
of two parts, (over-wanton and dissolute,) might have two reins to
govern and bridle him withal, that peace thereby and love might dwell
upon the face of the earth. But, alas, the bishop of Rome, sitting in
the chair of perverse doctrine or pestilence, that Pharisee anointed
with the oil of iniquity above the rest of his consorts in this our
time, which for his abominable pride is fallen from heaven,
endeavoureth with his power to destroy and undo all, and thinketh, I
believe, to stellify again himself there from whence he fell. His
purpose is to darken and to shadow the light of our unspotted life,
whilst that, altering the verity into lies, his papal letters,
stuffed with all untruths, are sent into sundry parts of the world;
of his own corrupt humour, and upon no reasonable cause, blemishing
the sincerity of our religion. The lord pope hath compared us unto
the beast rising out of the sea, full of names of blasphemy, and
spotted like a leopard. But we say that he is that monstrous beast,
of whom it is said, and of whom we thus read: And there shall come
another red horse out of the sea, and he that shall sit upon him
shall take peace away out of the earth: let them therefore that dwell
upon the earth destroy him. For since the time of his promotion he
hath not been the father of mercy, but of discord; a diligent steward
of desolation, instead of consolation; and hath enticed all the world
to commit offence. And to take the words in right sense and
interpretation, he is that great dragon that hath deceived the whole
world; he is that antichrist, of whom he hath called us the
forerunner; he is that other Balaam hired for money to curse us; the
prince of darkness, which hath abused the prophets. This is the angel
leaping out of the sea, having his vials filled with bitterness, that
he may both hurt the sea and the land; the counterfeit vicar of
Christ, that setteth forth his own imaginations. He saith that we do
not rightly believe in the Christian faith, and that the world is
deceived with three manner of deceivers, which to name God forbid we
should open our mouth; seeing that openly we confess only Jesus
Christ our Lord and Saviour to be the everlasting Son of God, coequal
with his Father and the Holy Ghost, begotten before all worlds, and
in process of time sent down upon the earth for the salvation of
mankind; conceived, not by the seed of man, but by the Holy Ghost;
which was born of the glorious Virgin Mary, and after that suffered
and died, as touching the flesh; and by his Godhead the third day he
raised from death that other nature which he assumed in the womb of
his mother. But we have learned that the body of Mahomet hangeth in
the air, and his soul is buried in hell; whose works are damnable,
and contrary to the law of the Most High. We affirm also, that Moses
was the faithful servant of God, and a true teacher of the law; and
that he talked with God in Mount Sinai, unto whom the Lord spake,
Exod. 4; by whom also God wrought miracles in Egypt, and delivered
the law written to the Israelites; and that afterwards with the elect
he was called, to glory. In these and other things our enemy and
envier of our state, causing our mother the church to accuse her son,
hath written against us venomous and lying slanders, and sent the
same to the whole world. If he had rightly understood the apostle's
meaning, he would not have preferred his violent will, which beareth
such sway with him, before reason; neither would he have sent out his
mandates to the suggestion of those which call light darkness, and
evil good; which suspect honey to be gall, for the great good opinion
they had conceived of that holy place, which indeed is both weak and
infirm, and converteth all truth into falsehood, and affirmeth that
to be which is not.

Truly my opinion (so indifferent on every side) ought not in any case
to be infringed and averted from the faith to such enemies of so
corrupt a conscience. Wherefore we greatly are enforced not a little
to marvel, which thing also doth much disquiet us to see, that you,
which be the pillars and assistants in office of righteous dealing,
the senators of Peter's city, and the principal beams in God's
building, have not qualified the perturbation of so fierce a judge;
as do the planets of heaven in their kind, which, to mitigate the
passing swift course of the great orb or sphere of heaven, draw a
contrary way by their opposite movings. In very deed, our imperial
felicity hath been, almost even from the beginning, spurned against
and envied at of the papal see and dignity; as Simonides, being
demanded why he had no more enemies and enviers of his state,
answered and said, Quia nihil feliciter gessi. Because, saith he, I
have had no good success in any thing that ever I took in hand. And
so, for that we have had prosperous success in all our enterprises,
the Lord's name be blessed therefore, especially in the overthrow, of
late, of our rebellious enemies, the Lombards, to whom in their good
quarrel he promised life and absolution with remission of their sins,
is the cause wherefore this apostolical bishop mourneth and
lamenteth. And now, not by your counsels, I suppose, he laboureth to
impugn this our felicity, but out of his own power of binding and
loosing, whereof he glorieth so much, he impugneth it. But presently,
where power and ability wanteth to redress, there doth abuse take
place. We see in him which was so mighty a king, and the worthiest
prince amongst all the prophets, to desire and crave the restitution
of God's Holy Spirit, when he had polluted the dignity of his office.
But the proverb is, As things indissoluble are not to be loosed, so
things that cannot be bound are not to be bound. Which thing
manifestly is proved in him. For why? The Scriptures of God do
instruct men how to live; they mortify our souls which are immortal,
and quicken the same which are dead for want of life. And doubtless
he is able to humble and bring down those that are unworthy of
dignity as much as him pleaseth, and when him pleaseth. Doubtless, if
the bishop of Rome were a true bishop indeed, innocent, unpolluted,
and not associated with wicked livers and evil men, his life should
declare him so to be. He would not then be an offerer of dissentious
sacrifice, but a peaceable offerer of love and charity; and would
cense, not with the incense of grief and hatred, but with the sweet-
smelling incense of concord and unity; neither yet would alter suum
pontificium in maleficium; that is, make of a sanctified office an
execrable abuse. If he were such a bishop as he ought to be, he would
not wrest or abuse the preaching of the word into the fruit and gain
of his own dissension, neither should we be accused for such an enemy
of our mother the true church, as is laid unto her son's charge by
such a bishop. Which true and mother church with all reverence we
honour, and benignity embrace, so beautified and adorned with God's
most holy sacraments. Some singular persons notwithstanding, feigning
themselves to be our brethren by that mother, and yet are not, but of
a strumpet begot; such, I say, as are subject and slaves to
corruptible things, putting them from amongst us, we utterly reject;
especially for that injuries by them done are not only transitory and
mundane, wherewith our majesty is so molested, vexed, and grieved.
Wherefore we cannot so easily mitigate our mood, neither ought we in
very deed so to do, and therefore are we enforced the more to take
the greater revenge of them. You therefore that are men of grave and
deliberate counsel, having the excellent gift, as from God, of wisdom
and understanding, refuse you that roaring enemy of ours in these his
proceedings, whose be ginnings are so wicked and detestable, wisely
comparing things past with those to come. Otherwise, you that are
under our subjection, as well of our empire as other our dominions,
shall feel and perceive (both of my chief enemy and persecutor, as
also of the princes that are his fautors and adherents) what revenge
by sword Fredericus Augustus shall take upon them, God so
permitting."

This done, he denounceth a solemn parliament or council of all the
princes and other nobility of the empire at Ægra; whither came Conrad
Cæsar, Moguntine the Presul, the Saxon dukes, the lords of
Brandeburgh, Misna, Thuringus, and the legates of all the nobles of
Brabant, to aid the emperor. But the princes Boiemus and Palatinus,
being dissuaded by the legates, unto whom the Austrians had joined
themselves, refused to come to the council holden at Ægra. And being
at their wit's end, not knowing well what they might do, forsook at
last the emperor, and took part with the pope and the other
conspirators. Then Frederic of Austria, the emperor's second son,
whom he disherited, as ye heard, by the aid of the Boiores and
Bohemians, recovered again the dukedoms of Austria and Styria,
putting to flight and discomfiting the emperor's bands and garrisons
which he had there. And although the cardinals, especially that
honest man, Albertus Boiemus, had allured to the pope Otho the duke
of Boioria, as ye heard, and divers other noblemen of Germany; yet,
notwithstanding, certain bishops in Boioria (as Eberhardus
Juvanensis, and Sigrefridus Reginoburgensis, being at that time the
emperor's chancellor, Rudicenus Ratheviensis, Conradus Frisingensis,
and others) left not nor yet forsook the emperor. All which the fore-
said Albertus not only did excommunicate, but also by process sought
to bring them up to Rome before the pope, giving commandment to their
collegians and cloisterers that they should deprive them of their
offices, and choose such others in their stead as would obey the
pope. All which things the pope understanding by Albertus, and of
this their fidelity to the emperor, corroborated and confirmed the
same his doings, commanding them to choose other bishops in their
steads.

But the bishops and prelates, with one consent contemning the pope's
mandates and writs, and also the curses and threatenings of Albert,
accused, reproved, and greatly blamed his temerity and also tyranny
which he usurped against the churches of Germany, and especially
against the good emperor, that without his consent he durst be so
bold as to meddle in churches committed to the emperor's government
against the old and ancient customs; and that he had excommunicated
the emperor without just cause; that he had condemned the emperor's
faithful subjects as enemies to the church, for standing with their
liege and sovereign prince, (which allegiance to violate, without
horrible iniquity, they might not,) and so had sought to disquiet
them likewise in their charges and administrations, and had also in
that quarrel given such defiance to the emperor. They accused and
condemned the same Albertus also for a most impudent impostor and
wicked varlet, and for a most pestiferous botch and sore of the
Christian commonwealth; and they do give him to the devil as a
ruinous enemy, as well of the church as of his own natural country,
and further think him worthy to have his reward with the rest of the
pope's pursuivants, being the most wicked inventors and devisers of
mischief that were in all Germany. This done, they make relation
hereof to the emperor by their letters; and further, they advertise
all the princes of Germany, (especially those which were of the
pope's faction or rebellion, and were the favourers of Albertus,)
that they should take heed and beware in any case of his subtle
deceits and pernicious deceivable allurements, and that they should
not assist the pope for all his words against the emperor. And
doubtless by the counsel of the high prelate or archbishop of
Boioria, (whose name was Juvanensis,) and by his industry and
persuasion, Fredericus Austriacus was again reconciled unto the
emperor his father, from whose aid and obedience after that, by no
promises, threatening, bribes, nor pains, no, nor for the execrable
curses of the pope's own holy mouth, he would be induced or removed.
But Albert prosecuteth still his purposed mischief, alluring and
enticing by all means possible, and that not amongst the worst, but
the best, friends to the pope, and enemies to the emperor. Unto some
he gave their tithes to fight against the emperor, to other some he
gave the glebe lands of benefices, and to other some he gave the
spoil of such colleges and monasteries as took not part with the
pope; and to some other also he gave the colleges and monasteries
themselves. And assuredly I find by Johannes Aventinus, that there
were certain of the pope's own birds that had their ecclesiastical
tithes taken from them; and other some had the rents and revenues of
their colleges plucked away by force to the maintenance of the pope's
quarrel against the emperor. Hereby was there a window opened to do
what they lusted, (every man according to his ravening and detestable
lust,) and all things lay open unto their greedy and insatiable
desires. Who listeth to hear more hereof, let him read Aventinus in
his book before noted, and there shall he see what vastation grew
thereby to the whole state of Germany, who largely treateth of the
same.

While these things were thus in working in Germany, Frederic, leaving
in Lombardy Actiolinus with a great part of his host, (he passing
with the rest by Apeninum,) came to Hetruria, and set the same in a
stay, after that he had allayed certain insurrections there; and from
thence to Pisa, where he was with great amity and honour received and
welcomed. This city was always assured and faithful to the emperors
of Germany. The pope understanding of the emperor's coming into
Etruria, and knowing what power the emperor had also left in
Lombardy, with a great army besieged the city Ferraria, that always
loved the emperor full well; which city when the pope's legate had
assaulted sharply the space of five months, and could not win the
same, he devised with himself to send for Salingwerra out of the
town, by way of a parley, promising his faith and truth to him for
his safe return. Who, by the persuasion of Hugo Rambartus, that said
without peril he might do the same, (being but by way of parley,) was
coming to the legate; who, preventing him in his journey, took him as
prisoner, contrary to his truth and fidelity. And thus got he
Ferraria, and delivered the keeping thereof to Azones Astensis. And 
that the pope's legate thus falsified his truth, and circumvented the
captain and old man Salingwerra, the same is confessed of the pope's
friendly historiographers to be but a stratagem or warlike policy.
But to return again. About the same time also the Venetian navy, at
the mount Garganum, chased twelve galleys of the emperor's, which
were appointed to the keeping of that coast, and spoiled, burnt, and
wasted all the region; and further took one of the emperor's great
ships, being driven by tempest and weather into the haven Sipontium,
fraught with men and munition.

Frederic again getting on his side the Lucenses, the Volaterans, the
Genenses, the Aretines, and divers cities besides in Hetruria to help
that country, came to Pisa and Viterbium, which took part with him.
Some say that the names and factions of Ghibellines and Guelphs
sprang from Frederic, that by them he might spy and know, having
recourse to all the towns and cities in Italy, which took part with
and favoured the pope, and which the emperor; and called the one by
the name of Ghibellines, and the other by the name of Guelphs. But
for that both Blondus, and Platina, and some others, bring no
sufficient proof thereof, but only slender conjecture, I rather 
cleave to the opinion of Nauclerus, Hermannus, Antoninus,
Florentinus, and other such writers, which say that these Guelphs and
Ghibellines in Italy took their beginning of Conrad the Third,
Frederic his great uncle being emperor; and that these Guelphs were
dedicated to the pope by Guelph, the younger brother of Henry the
Proud; and that those which were called the Ghibellines were
appointed either of Conradus himself, or else of his son, being
brought up in the lordship of Vaiblingen. But to our purpose.

The pope, when he understood that Frederic was come to Viterbium, he
was very heavy, for that he feared he would come to Rome, the good
will of which city the pope much mistrusted. He therefore caused a
supplication to be drawn, portraying about the same the heads of
Peter and Paul, and with a sharp and contumelious oration he much
defaced the emperor; promising them everlasting life, and gave the
badge of the cross to as many as would arm themselves and fight
against the emperor, as against the most wicked enemy of God and the
church. Now when the emperor, marching somewhat near to Rome gates,
beheld those whom the pope had, with his goodly spectacle of St.
Peter and St. Paul, and with his alluring oration, stirred up against
him, and marked with the badge of the cross to come forth in battle
against him, disdaining to be accounted for the enemy of the church,
who had been thereunto so beneficial, giving a fierce charge upon
them, he put them soon to flight; and as many as he took (cutting off
that badge from them) he caused to be hanged. From thence he,
marching into Campania and his own kingdoms, levied a great mass of
money, and mustered the new bands, and augmented his army; and in
these bands he retained the Saracens also. And to the intent he might
find the Saracens the more trusty unto him, he appointed them to
inhabit in a city named Luceria. For which thing, although the
papistical writers do greatly blame and opprobriously write of
Frederic, yet notwithstanding Nicholaus Machiavellus doth write, that
therefore he retained them, lest that through the pope's execrable
curses he should be quite destitute of soldiers, as was Frederic
Barbarossa, his grandfather, a little before, when that of Alexander
the pope he was excommunicated, as ye have heard.

After this, when the emperor had greatly afflicted by battle the
pope's ecclesiastical consorts, such as conspired with the pope
against him, and that he had wasted and destroyed Beneventum, the
mount Casenum, and Sora, for that they took part with the pope
against him, Frederic, when he had manned the city of Aquilia,
marched forth with a great host both of horsemen and footmen to
Picenum, that he might vanquish his enemies in Italy. And by the way
he besieged the strong town of war named Asculinum, which was also
converted to the pope's faction and rebellion. He there having
understanding what the pope's assistants had done with the prince's
electors and other princes of Germany, especially with Wenceslaus,
king of Bohemia, and Otho Palatine, writeth his letters unto them. In
the which, first, he showed how that those contumelies and spiteful
words, which the pope blustered out against him, are lighted upon
himself, and how the bishops of Rome have taken to them of late such
heart of grace, and are become so lofty, that not only they seek to
bring emperors, kings, and princes under their obedience, but also
seek how to be honoured as gods, and say that they cannot err,
neither yet be subject or bound to any religion, and that it is
lawful for them to do all things what they list, neither that any
account is to be sought or demanded of their doings, or else to be
made of them to any, so impudent are they in these their
affirmations. And further, as princes they command, and that under
pain of cursing, that men believe every thing they say, how great a
lie soever it be. Insomuch that by this covetousness of his all
things go backward, and the whole state of the commonwealth is
subverted, neither can there any enemy be found more hurtful or
perilous to the church of God than he. He wrote unto them
furthermore, that he, (to whom the greatest charge and dignity was in
the whole commonwealth appointed and committed,) seeing and
perceiving to his great peril their good hearts, wills, and practices
towards him, would with all the power and ability that God had given
him do his endeavour, that he, which in the likeness of the shepherd
of the flock, and the servant of Christ, and chief prelate in the
church, showeth himself so very a wolf, persecutor, and tyrant, may
be removed from that place, and that a true and careful shepherd of
God's flock may be appointed in the church. Wherefore he exhorteth
them, if they desire the safety and preservation of the whole state
of the commonwealth and empire, that they be unto him no hinderers,
but furtherers of his purpose and proceedings, lest otherwise they
also should happen to fall into the same snare of servitude with the
bishop of Rome. And further, he gave them to wit, that if he should
aspire to that he sought for, that is, to be emperor and king over
kings, yet should that be no stay of his insatiable desire, but he
would be as greedy and ravenous as now he is. Therefore, if they be
wise, to withstand him betimes, lest hereafter, when they would, it
should be too late, neither were able to withstand his tyranny. The
effect of this epistle I took out of Aventine, which more largely
dilateth it, who also writeth that the emperor, by his legates, sent
the same to Wenceslaus.

Boiemus, somewhat relenting at this letter, promiseth to accomplish
the emperor's biddings and precepts, and forthwith gathereth the
assembly of princes and nobles at Ægra; where by common consent they
think to renovate with the emperor a new league and covenant. And
furthermore, they find Otho Boius (which was absent, and would not be
at this their assembly) to be the author of this defection, and an
enemy to the commonwealth. Otho then seeing himself not able to stand
against Cæsar and the other princes with whom he was associate,
desiring aid of the pope by his letters, came with all speed to
Boiemus his kinsman; whom when he could not persuade unto him again,
neither would he to their parts also be won, he obtaineth
notwithstanding yet thus much at their hands, that the league and
covenant (which they were in hand to make with the emperor) might for
a time be deferred, and that another assembly might be made, whereat
he also would be, and join himself with them. Thus had they, who
killed (as you heard) his father, bewitched also his son, and brought
him to be both a rebel and a traitor. In the mean season the pope
sent his rescript unto the king of Bohemia, and to Otho, tending to
this effect; that in no case they should either forsake him, or else
the church, to take the emperor's part. And so much prevailed he by
the means of Bohuslaus and Budislaus, which were the chiefest of the
senate regal, and by his fair promises and bribes to such as he
before had made to him, that again at Libussa by Boiemus and Boius
new assemblies were gathered for the creation of a new emperor, in
despite of Augustus the emperor and Cæsar his son. And whilst that
this was thus in hand, Conrad Cæsar casteth Landshuta the wife of
Otho, being absent, in the teeth for great benefits and possessions
which her husband had and possessed by the ancestors of him, and that 
unless her husband took a better way with himself, and showed his
obedience to the emperor his father, that he should not enjoy one
foot of that land which now he had by his predecessors. The promotion
and dignities which Otho had by the ancestors of Conrad Cæsar came
thus: Frederic Barbarossa, in the year of our Lord 1180, at a
parliament holden at Reginoburgh, condemned Henry Leo of high
treason, and deprived him of his dominions of Boioria and Saxony, and
gave Boioria to Otho Wiltaspachius, for that he had done him so
faithful service in his Italian wars. After that, Ludovicus, the son
of this Otho, obtained of this emperor. Frederic• the Second, in
recompence of his assured and trusty fidelity, the dominion of
Palatinatum Rheni so called, which gave also Agnetes, the daughter of
Henry, earl of Palatine, to Otho his son in marriage. This Henry was
the son of Henry Leo the traitor, unto whom Henry the. Sixth, the
father of Frederic, gave in marriage Clementia his brother's
daughter, Conrad, Palatine of Rhenus, and gave unto him the keeping
of the palace of the same. And as touching the inheritance of
Boioria, that he had also now long possessed by the heirs of Otho
Wiltaspachius. But to our purpose again.

At the same time also the governor of Colonia Agrippina revolted to
the pope; who not long after, in a skirmish between Brabantinus and
him, was vanquished and taken prisoner. And doubtless Fredericus
Austriacus, after he was received into favour again with the emperor,
(keeping most constantly his promise and fidelity renewed,) during
this time made sharp war upon the Hungarians, which took part with
the pope, and greatly annoyed them. As these things thus passed in
Germany, the emperor when he had gotten Ascalum and led his host into
Flaminia, having Ravenna at his commandment, from thence came to
Faventia; which city never loved the emperor, the circuit of whose
walls is five miles in compass, and pitched his camp round about the
same. And although the siege was much hindered by austerity of the
time and weather, being in the very dead time of winter, yet,
notwithstanding, through his great fortitude and courage, so
animating his soldiers in the painfulness of the laborious siege, he
endured out the same, who thought it no little shame, having once
made that enterprise, to come from thence without any assault given.
And therefore when now the winter (so extreme cold and hard) was well
near ended, and the spring time now hard at hard, and by long battery
he had made the same in divers places assaultable, the citizens,
being greatly discouraged, and in no hope of the defence thereof,
sent their legates to the emperor, craving pardon for their offence,
and that he would grant unto them their lives, and so yielded
themselves unto his mercy.

The emperor, having against them good and sufficient cause of
revenge, yet for that his noble heart thought it to be the best
revenge that might be, to pardon the offence of vanquished men, he
thought it better to grant them their requests, to save the city and
citizens thereof, with innumerable people, than by arms to make the
same his soldiers' prey, to the destruction both of the city and
great number of people therein. So doth this good emperor in one of
his epistles, Adacta nobis, confess himself. Which epistle, to
declare the.lenity and merciful heart of so worthy a prince, if that
with great and marvellous provocations and wrongs he had not been
incited, I thought good in the midst of the history here to have
placed. But thus I have kept you long herein, and yet not finished
the same.

In this siege the emperor, having spent and consumed almost all his
treasure, both gold and silver, caused other money to be made of
leather, which on the one side had his image, and on the other side
the spread eagle, the arms of the empire, and made a proclamation
that the same should pass from man to man for all necessaries instead
of other money; and therewithal promised, that whosoever brought the
same money unto his exchequer when the wars were ended, he would give
them gold for the same, according to the value of every coin limited;
which thing afterward truly and faithfully he performed, as all the
historiographers do accord.

Thus when the pope, as before said, had stopped his ears, and would
not hear the emperor's legates that came to entreat for peace, but
rejected and despised his most courteous and equal demands; neither
yet had he left any wily policy unattempted, or force unpractised,
that with his confederates he thought himself either able to revenge
or else resist; he by his legates calleth to a council at Rome all
such prelates out of Italy, France, and England as he thought to
favour him and his proceedings, that hereby, as his last shift and
only refuge, he by their helps might deprive Frederic of his empire,
as an utter enemy to God and to the church. All which things Frederic
having understanding of, and knowing that these assemblies should be
but to the destruction and supplanting of him, determined to stop and
let their passages to Rome, as well by sea as by land, in all that
ever he might. So that all the passages by land being now stopped and
prevented, he commanded his son Henry with certain galleys to go and
keep the coasts of Sardinia, which kingdom the Italians call Entimum;
and from thence to go to Pisa, and with the Pisans to rig out a navy
to meet with (if it were possible) such as should come to aid the
pope at Rome. The pope's champions understanding that by land they
could not safely repair to Rome, they procured of galleys and ships
out of Genoa (having Gulielmus Braccius for their chief captain or
admiral) forty sail for their defence; thinking hereby, that if they
should fortune to meet with any of the emperor's ships or galleys,
which should lie for them in wait, they should be able to make their
part good, and give them also the repulse. Encius in like manner and
Huglinus (being captain and admiral of the Pisan navy for the
emperor) launched forth to sea with forty ships and galleys; and
betwixt the isles of Lilium and Mons Christi, which lie between
Liburnium and Corsica, they met with the Genoese ships; and straight-
ways fiercely began to grapple with them and board them; in which
fight at length were three of the Genoese ships both bulged and sunk,
and two and twenty taken and brought away, with all the riches and
treasure in them. In these were taken three legates of the pope's,
whereof were two cardinals, Jacobus Columna, Otho Marchio, and
Gregory of Romania, (all cruel enemies against the emperor,) and many
other prelates more; besides a great number of legates and
procurators of cities, with an infinite number of monks and priests,
besides of Genoese soldiers six thousand, with divers others.

Pandolphus Colonutius, in describing the circumstances of the great
loss and misfortune of these champions of the pope by sea, amongst
the rest declareth, that besides the great prey and booty which the
takers had from them, they also found many writings and letters
against Frederic, which much helped him in the defence of those
causes wherein they had laboured against him. The like mischance also
almost about that time happened on the pope's side, by the emperor's
soldiers which lay in the garrison at Ticinum, thus: There went forth
upon a time out of Ticinum into the larders of Genoa, certain bands
to give them larums in the country; which bands the scurriers of
Mediolanum (where lay a great garrison of the pope's) descrying, told
the captain of the town, that now a very opportune and fit time was
to give an assault to Ticinum; for that (say they) the greatest part
are now gone a foraging. 'Whereupon they immediately calling together
the captains and such as had charge, set their soldiers in array, and
marched forward to Ticinum. And now when they were come almost
thither, the Ticinian bands (whom they thought to have been far a
foraging) were returned and met with them, and fiercely gave a full
charge upon them; who being dismayed at the suddenness of the matter,
fought not long, but gave over and fled. In which skirmish were taken
(besides those that were slain) three hundred and fifty captains, and
brought prisoners into Ticinum with all their ensigns with them.

News hereof was brought to the emperor not long after, who then was
removing from the siege of Faventia (as ye heard) to the city of
Bononium, thinking to have destroyed the same. But upon the hearing
of these good news he altereth his purpose, and thinking to have
hereafter a more convenient time thereunto, leadeth his army towards
Rome; and in the way he reconciled to him the city of Pisarum. But
Fanum, for that the townsmen shut their gates and would not suffer
the emperor to come in, he took by force and destroyed. For the
emperor, seeing that neither by petition made to the pope, nor yet by
his lawful excusation, he could do any good with him, thought that by
his sudden coming thither, and with fear of the peril imminent, he
might be brought to some uniformity, and caused to leave off his
accustomed pertinacy. And although the emperor was too strong for
him, yet for that he regarded nothing more than the public
tranquillity of the empire; and that he might then take the Tartarian
wars in hand, if he could by any means conclude, he refused not so to
entreat a peace with him, as though he had been both in force and
fortune much his inferior.

Whilst that this ruffle was betwixt the emperor and the pope,
Ochodarius, the emperor of the Tartarians' son, with a great power
and provision made, invaded the borders next adjoining unto him, and
there won Roxolanum, Bodolium, Mudanum, with divers other cities,
towns, and villages, destroying, wasting, and burning the countries
all about, killing and slaying man, woman, and child, sparing none of
any sex or age. At whose sudden invasion the people, being in such
fear and perplexity, (having no city, no refuge, nor aid to stand in
defence for them,) were fain to leave all that ever they had, and
diverse themselves into woods, and fly into marshes and mountains, or
wheresoever any succour else did offer itself to them. And by this
time the Tartarian host was come as far as Uratislavia, where Henry
of Polonia and the duke of Silesia with their armies met with them;
who, for the inequality of the number and small strength they were
of, had soon an overthrow, and almost all their soldiers being slain,
they themselves were taken and put to the sword. From thence they
came to Moravia, and from thence to the kingdom of Bohemia; which
country, while the king kept himself in strong defenced forts, and
durst not come abroad, he invaded, and destroyed all Hungary, putting
to flight and vanquishing Colmannus, the brother of Belus the fourth
king of Hungary, by whom also was great spoil made in both the
Pannonias, Misiarum, Bulgaria, and Servia. When Belus, the king of
Hungary, had gotten to Pola, (which is a city of Istria,) unto Otho,
the duke of Dalmatia, he sent his legates to Frederic the emperor,
promising that if he would send him aid that the Tartarians might be
expelled, then Hungary should ever after be under the jurisdiction of
the emperor; which thing if he refused to do, that then the same were
in great danger to be subject to the Tartarians, to the no little
peril of the whole empire. And he said further, that the cause
whereof he with more instance required the same, was, that so many
Christian men and countries made such pitiful lamentation in this
their great calamity and misery, and that there was none able to help
them; which (saith he) is as great shame as may be to the whole
Christian state and empire. And also he said, that if the malice of
this barbarous people were not suppressed, then he thought they would
make invasion upon the empire and provinces of the same.

The emperor, although he thought it very requisite, that with all
convenient speed this mischief should be remedied and prevented; yet,
notwithstanding, his great enemy the pope, with his confederates, was
the only let and hinderance thereof. For when he saw and perceived
that he himself could do no good, and only laboured in vain in
seeking peace with the pope, he gave commandment to Boiemus and Bolus
to entreat and persuade with him; and (considering the imminent peril
like to ensue by reason of such civil dissension to the whole state
of Christendom) that he would take up and conclude a peace, and
mitigate somewhat his fierce and wrathful mood. Wherefore, when he
saw further, that neither by that means of entreaty, nor any other,
the pope would desist from his stubborn and malicious froward
purpose, he writeth again to the king of Hungary, that he was right
sorry, and greatly lamented their miserable state, and that he much
desired to relieve the need and necessity that he and all the rest
stood in. But why that he could not redress the same, nor stand him
then in any stead, he blamed greatly the bishop of Rome; who refusing
all entreaty of peace, he could not without great peril to himself
depart out of Italy, lest that when he should come to the aid of him,
(by the pope's mischievous imaginations,) he should be in peril of
losing all at home. Notwithstanding, he sent Conrad Cæsar, king of
Bohemia, and other princes more of Germany, to resist and withstand
the enemy, as much as in them lay to do. The great army and number of
such soldiers as wore the cross by the pope's assignment deferred
their journey against the Tartarians, and had commandment given unto
them by one Albert, the pope's procurator, to tarry and abide at
home, until they should be called for in battle to fight against the
emperor. This was the loving zeal and affection of the pope and his
adherents (to conclude) in this time of calamity towards the
Christian state and commonwealth, that he had rather bend his force
and revenge his malice upon the Christian and good emperor, than
either he himself to withstand, or suffer and permit, by conclusion
of any profitable peace, that this most bloody and cruel Tartarian
should be let and restrained from so great havoc, spoil, and
slaughter of the Christian men; and yet forsooth these men will seem
to have the greatest regard of all others to the Christian
preservation, and think to have the supremacy given therein: what
thing else is this, but manifest mockery and deceiving of the people?
But, notwithstanding, even in the midst of this spoil and havoc of
PoIonia, Bohemia, and Hungaria, was it determined, that at Libussa
the princes confederate should be assembled about the deposing of the
emperor, and creation of another.

But now, notwithstanding the provident foresight and wise policy of
the emperor, (as you heard before,) in restraining the passages both
by the sea and land, who had special regard thereunto, and gave most
strict charge that none should pass without privy search and
examination, as one having sufficient trial as well in his own person
as by the example of his predecessors, what great mischief and
dissension by their legates every way sent out they had procured,
both to the imperial state and dignity, and to the whole country of
Germany; yet found they such means, and wrought such policies, that
they had not only secret passage and re-passage with their letters
and spials into all Christendom where they listed, but also so
laboured the matter, and handled the same, that the long-continued
league of amity between the French king and the emperor, whose
predecessors as also they themselves had many years reverently
observed it in Christian concord and unity, was, by this seditious
prelate and arrogant vicar of Satan, now either utterly infringed, or
else in variable suspense; as by their letters each to other, and
hereunder ensuing, is to be read and seen; which, for the more
probability of this history of Frederic, not being long or greatly
tedious, I thought meet here to intext and place.

"Hitherto, noble emperor, hath the good opinion and great confidence,
many years in mutual love established betwixt us, lasted and
continued well, hoping that no such cause should rise betwixt us to
hatch either hatred or other occasion offensive between your
Highness's empire and our kingdom. Especially, seeing that all our
predecessors, kings of France, late of most worthy memory, till these
our days, have been so zealously affected to the most high and regal
state of your empire; and also that we, whom God hath placed
successively to reign as king, have been no otherwise minded nor
affected towards the same. None otherwise also on their behalf have
the ancient and renowned emperors of Rome, our neighbours and your
predecessors, showed themselves towards us, (each other esteeming the
empire and kingdom of France as one,) and faithfully conserving
together the unity of peace and concord. Insomuch that there hath not
chanced between them these many years so much as one spark of discord
and dissension. But, this notwithstanding, we for our part cannot but
greatly marvel, and not without good cause are troubled and vexed,
that without desert or any offence you have taken the prelates of our
realm upon the sea,making their repair to the see apostolical; to the
which, as well by their faith as their obedience, they stand bound
and are obedient, neither could they withstand the pope's
commandment; these have you imprisoned, and so still detain the same.
Whereat (we do your Majesty to wit) we are not well pleased, neither
yet take in so good. part as you peradventure think ire do. For by
their own letters we understand they had excogitate nothing
prejudicial to your imperial estate and celsitude, although the pope
had prosecuted therein more than became him to do. Wherefore, seeing
that there is no cause why you should detain them, it is meet, and
becometh no less your magnificence, but that you restore unto us and
set at liberty the said prelates of our realm; wherein also you shall
appease our grudge, and keep us your friend, which account the
displeasure you do to them as our own and proper injury. For why? It
were a great dishonour to our realm and kingly estate, if we would
wink hereat and overpass the same with silence. Wherefore if you will
consider and respect the thing that we have said, we doubt not but
that you will release the bishop of Penestrum, with the other legates 
and prelates of the church, which you to our prejudice do detain. In
desiring of our aid doubtless we gave unto them a manifest nay;
neither could they obtain in our kingdom any thing at all which
seemed to be against or prejudicial to your Majesty. Let therefore
your imperial providence ponder in the balance of justice those
things which we write unto you, neither let our lawful request unto
you be frustrate or made in vain. For our realm and kingdom of France
is not so debilitate or impoverished that it will be spurned at, or
trodden under your feet. Fare ye well."

The rescript of the emperor to the same letter of the king of France.

"Our imperial magnificence hath perused your kingly letters, wherein
if we had not found manifest contradiction, they might peradventure
have obtained at our hands all that they required. But even as with a
little leaven a whole lump of dough is soured, so a manifest untruth
alleged hath made the whole argument of your letter both faulty and
unsavoury. It is apparent that you wanted the virtue of mediocrity in
the conclusion of the same your Grace's letter; for that they
themselves bewray no less than we give you manifestly to understand,
and many more besides do know. It is notorious also, and to all the
world revealed, in what sort that apostolical father had impugned our
innocency, as well with the one sword as with the other; and how that
whilst we at his commandment took our journey beyond the seas, the
same our great enemy and hostile adversary invaded our kingdom of
Sicily; and the same, not in one place or two, but in divers and
sundry parts thereof, hath wasted, spoiled, and destroyed. After
this, when with great entreaty, at our return from Asia, we had
concluded a peace with him, which with us at his own pleasure he
made, and had taken and received our devotion for the same, which in
serviceable manner we granted him, the said apostolical father (that
notwithstanding) hath since that time rather aggravated his
displeasure toward us, than any thing at all qualified the same; and
further, hath to our deprivation and subversion excogitate and
devised against us all the mischief he might or hath been able, no
cause in all the world given of us to provoke the same; and further,
hath promulgated to our great defamation and shame, as well by his
letters as legates, the sentence of excommunication against us unto
all nations. Lastly, he, aspiring to our imperial state, and
conspiring our supplantation, hath made war against us, as against
King David, God's anointed; and hath unto a private council for that
purpose called all the prelates he can get, as one that meaneth to
set all the whole world together by the ears. But such is the
marvellous wisdom of God, by whom we live and reign; who, beholding
the wicked purpose he went about, confounding the crafty in their
craftiness, hath given into our hands as well your prelates of the
realm of France, as also of other regions and provinces; all which we
imprison and detain, as enemies and adversaries to our imperial crown
and person. For where there desisted not to be a persecutor, there
hath not wanted also a sufficient withstander and defender. Let not
therefore your kingly Highness marvel, although Augustus detaineth in
prison your French prelates, which have endeavoured themselves to
conspire, and so to disturb, our imperial estate and regiment. Fare
ye well."

When Frederic now saw there was none other remedy, and that in vain
he laboured to have peace with the pope, he prosecuteth this war to
the uttermost; and when he had gotten Tudertum, and reconciled the
same, he destroyed the town of Geminum and Narvia, and giveth the
spoil of them unto his soldiers; he gently received the yielding up
of Siburnum, and wasteth all the country round about Rome. The pope
herewith dismayed and troubled with such as otherwise dissuaded and
counselled him, and seeing that things prospered not so well with him
and against the emperor as he wished and desired, being in despair of
obtaining his purpose, died for very anger and thought.

What opinion the prelates of Germany at that time had of this Gregory
is extant, and to be seen by the oration of Eberhardus, bishop of
Juvanence, that he made to the nobility of Boioria, in the parliament
at Reginoburgh, written by Johannes Aventius in his seventh book.
Doubtless he not only brought great and ruinous calamities to the
whole Christian commonwealth and also empire, whilst he sought thus
to depress and bridle the emperor, and advance his papal see and
dignity, but also brought into the church of God much horrible
impiety, blasphemy, and wickedness, whereof both Blondus, Platina,
Balæus, and others make mention; and, amongst others, that most
detestable canticle Salve Regina, in the which he attributeth the
honour and worship proper only to Christ unto the Virgin his mother.
This is he in whose name the book of the decretals was set out, which
(to omit the opinion of divers other learned men) Johannes Balæus
calleth " the sink or puddle of foolishness and impiety." Doubtless
Carolus Molinæus, a man both of singular judgment in that law, which
in tribunal courts and judgments is used, as also in this, painted
forth the decree of this Gregory in his book of annotations unto
Platina, whose words thereof are these: Doubtless divers chapters in
the same book of decretals be mangled and imperfect, that many
contentious arguments therein might lurk. For when the ambitious
desire of reigning like kings took them, they studied nothing else
but how to enlarge and advance their see and dominion with the empire
itself and other kingdoms, oft shaken and weakened through
contention; and this purpose and end had they none other in all their
constitutions. The proof whereof Molinæus declareth in his book De
Regibus Galliæ et Angliæ. But many more examples by the emperors,
princes, and lords electors of the empire may be gathered, whereof to
speak more convenient place shall serve hereafter.

In the stead of this Gregory was placed Celestine, born in Mediolanum
amongst the Castellians, who, as Blondus declareth, by feigned
promises offered a league with Frederic, and the eighteenth day after
he was created pope he also died.

Thus when the author of all this conspiracy was gone, Frederic now
thinking himself free and void of that fear which before he had, and
not daring to be absent out of Italy, with all his endeavour levieth
an army, and prepareth his furniture and other necessaries for the
delivery of the Christians, so mightily oppressed as ye heard by the
Turk or Tartarians. Who, hearing of the coming of the emperor, left
the straight way through Hungary, which they came, and returned by
the river Danube to Taurica, and so through the fens of Meotida, and
by the river Tanaum, into Sarmatia Asiatica. When the cardinals had
now a long time protracted the creation of the pope, and would not
agree upon the same, the emperor put them in remembrance of their
duty, and blameth them for their disagreeing, and exhorteth them to
be more careful for the Christian commonwealth. His two epistles
touching this matter are extant; whereby appeareth, that only for the
care and desire he had of peace and of the Christian unity and state
he did the same; and for that (peradventure) the cardinals refused to
make peace with him before they had created a new pope: the one for
more brevity I have omitted, and here inserted the other.

"Unto you I write, O you children of Ephraim, which evil have bent
your brows, and worse have shot your arrows, filthily turning your
backs in the day of battle; unto you I speak, O you children of
Belial, and dispurpled flock, you insensible people and assistants of
the great Judge; unto you I write, O you dissentious cardinals, whom
the world for your deserts doth hate; for whose causes the whole
world being at variance is evil spoken of. Doubtless, I cannot speak
unto you, but to your detraction, because I am worldly and you
spiritual. I am unperfect, wherefore I must do as the unperfect world
doth; neither can the part be dissonant to the whole, nor I contrary
to myself that writeth. Attend ye therefore my rude epistle, wanting
the dignity of rhetorical style. My provoked tongue bursteth forth
into words, before my conceiving spirit hath delivered the same; and
so, not attending to the higher regiment, hath hastened to express my
words not fully conceived or premeditate. Thus, I say, a troubled
mind oftentimes doth beget disordered talk, and untimely uttereth the
same. This therefore it is that our heart hath conceived, that we
believe, and all men confess, that Jesus Christ, the Mediator between
God and man, who came from heaven to make peace upon the earth, is
not divided and at variance, being also the Master and Lord of the
apostles. But Satan, being divided in himself, that blustering prince
is amongst you, as those to whom he ministereth; he, even he, the
persuader of discord and dissension, that man-killer, father of lies,
and spirit of darkness, that hath divided your tongues, and set
dissension amongst yourselves; neither do ye good one to another, nor
yet to the world, being by you into so perilous a state brought; and
the little ship of Peter, which is tossed upon the sea by the
vehement winds, you nothing regard; which ship, though it need not
indeed utterly to fear drowning, yet suffereth it by your negligence
many great storms and perilous tempests. Doubtless, if ye would
diligently consider how the nations and people whom ye were wont to
judge in scorn shake their heads at you, every one of you would be
ashamed of another. And, to say the truth, they cannot do too much to
detect your so detestable opprobry; for whilst every one of you
aspireth to the chair, every one is at variance with his fellow; and
whilst one of you cannot agree with another, none is promoted; and
whilst none is promoted, the cathedral dignity vanisheth. And thus by
your discord the peaceable state and concord of the church is
confounded, and the perfection of the faith and religion, whereby ye
should live, perisheth. And surely through your default it perisheth;
so that where nature hath placed the sense and understanding to be,
that part, like a monster, remaineth with you both senseless and
headless. And no marvel; for why? your hearing is impaired, and that
sound of the mouth which shrilly was heard throughout the whole earth
is utterly dumb, and become a scoffing echo. For why? The thunderings
of Peter and Paul are now no more heard, the preachers are become
dumb dogs, and are commanded to silence. Perhaps you have hands ready
to receive, but there be no bribes; for why? those that were wont to
come from Saba and bring gold with them, now come no more, seeing the
Lord is not in the manger, and the celestial shining star refusing to
be their guide. Moreover, ye want feet to walk withal; for seeing
there is no man to give you ought, you will not remove one foot for
any man's pleasure. Fie, shameless people, the least and simplest
beast may learn you obedience; for the birds have their captain, and
the silly bees their king, but you will come under no government,"
&c.

The emperor yet after this, at the request of Baldwin, the emperor of
Constantinople, who came to Frederic to Parma, released the cardinals
out of prison, thinking thereby not only to gratify the emperor
Baldwin, but also thinking that thereby things would have the better
grown to public tranquillity on every side. When the cardinals were
all assembled at Avignia, they made Sinibald, a Genoese, pope, whom
by a contrary name, for that he had determined (as I suppose) to be
hurtful to the commonwealth, they called Innocentius the Fourth. Of
which election when Frederic understood, he was well pleased
therewith. And for that he had in all this troublous time been his
friend, he well hoped that the Christian commonwealth should by him
have been brought to much peace and concord. Wherefore he sent both
his legates and letters gratulatory unto him, letting him to
understand how well it contented and pleased him that he was made
pope; and what peace and quietness thereby he promiseth, as it were
to himself, he maketh full relation thereof; offering again unto him
observance, help, and aid in all things, commending his dignity to
the public state and quietness of the Christian commonwealth and
empire, &c.

He also wrote his letters to Otho, duke of Boioria, who, a little
before, was reconciled to the emperor, that he which was elected pope
was a good man, a lover of peace, and studious as well for the
tranquillity of the Christian commonwealth as of the empire.
The legates of Frederic also, with the furtherance of Baldwin, the
emperor of Constantinople, laboured very diligently for the
conclusion of the promised peace. And, to be brief, every man was in
good hope, and looked for no less. But far otherwise fell the matter
out, and contrary to all their expectation. For the pope, set on and
encouraged by the cardinals and others against Frederic, secretly and
amongst themselves wrought contrary to that they openly pretended,
and not a little disappointed both Frederic and others of their
expectation and good opinion they had of the pope's Holiness. For
whilst the emperor's legates attended the answer of their peace
before promised, Rainerus, the cardinal, went secretly to Viterbium
with a certain number of soldiers, and took the town which before was
on the emperor's part.

The emperor having understanding hereof, mustereth his bands, and
with a sufficient power entereth the pope's dominion again to recover
Viterbium; but yet, taking this war so in hand, (not thinking thereby
to expel all conditions of peace,) at the request of certain of the
cardinals he was contented to leave Viterbium, being furnished by the
emperor of warlike provision before, and came to Aqua. From thence he
sent again other ambassadors to Rome, and with them also the emperor
of Constantinople, with the earl of Toulouse, who he thought were
able to do much with the pope in the prosecuting of this peace. And
although at the time of Easter the matter seemed to have been
through, and peace concluded, for that his legates had sworn in the
behalf of the emperor (and as he willed them) that he would submit
himself to the pope; and again, for that the cardinals and others
commonly called and named him Frederic the Christian prince; yet all
this was no more but for a further fetch and purpose. Not for that
they meant indeed to conclude any peace with him, or to go through
there withal, but that through this dissimulation and likelihood of
peace, which they understood the emperor much desired, he should set
free and open the passages which he straitly kept, that no man could
pass and come to Rome, whither a great multitude daily resorted and
flocked for religion's sake. But when all came to all, and that the
legates perceived no conclusion of peace was simply purposed on their
behalf, they began to despair of the matter; letting the emperor so
to understand. The emperor yet notwithstanding doubted not, but if he
might himself speak with the pope, he, upon reasonable conditions,
should well enough accord with him; wherefore he, by his legates and
letters, desired him to appoint a place where the emperor might
resort to him. The pope seemed to be contented here-withal, and
appointed a day at Fescennia, where they would talk together; and the
pope promised that he would be there before him, and expect the
emperor's coming. But the pope in this while had made a confederacy
with the French king against Frederic; who, when he knew those three
galleys to be ready and brought unto Centincellas, which he before
had spoken for unto the Genoese, secretly in the night with his
company (hastening thither in post speed) took ship, and first came
to Genoa, and from thence to Lyons in France; where he, calling a
council, with a loud voice summoneth Frederic, and appointing him a
day, commanded him there personally to plead his cause.

And yet although he understood that the sudden departing of him out
of Italy made plain demonstration of no conclusion or meaning of a
peace; and also knew the council which the pope had called, wherein
he was himself both plaintiff and judge; and at the same council
those, which he had by bribes allured, pretended the destruction of
the emperor; with many other such evident demonstrations, both of his
envious and hateful heart towards him; yet the most modest emperor,
using the innocency and uprightness of his cause, and as one most
desirous of peace and Christian concord, sent the patriarch of
Antioch, which lately was come out of Syria, the bishop of Panormia,
and Thadeus Suessanus, the president of his court, (a most skilful
and prudent civilian,) to the council at Lyons; which signified unto
them that the emperor would be there for the defence of his own
cause; and, for that the day was very short, required a time more
convenient for him thither to make his repair. The emperor also being
onward on his way, and come as far as Taurinum, sent before other
messengers, as the master of the Flemish order, and Peter of Venice,
to give them understanding of the emperor's coming, and to entreat
that he would prorogue the day of hearing, till that he might
conveniently travel thither. But for any thing that could be either
said or done, or upon how just cause soever required, the pope would
not give so much as three days' space, in the which time the
ambassadors assured them of the emperor's presence; as though there
had been no common proviso for every man in that case by the law to
have used upon any reasonable let. What should I longer protract the
time? When the day by them appointed was come, the pope with his
confederates, (whom for money and bribes he had gotten to that
council,) against God's law, against Christian doctrine, against both
the prescript of the law of nature and reason, against the rule of
equity, against the order of law appointed, against the constitutions
of emperors, and also the decrees of the empire, without any
observation of the law, or granting dilatory days, without probation
of any crime, or his cause suffered to be pleaded unto, or heard what
might be answered therein, taking upon him to be both adversary and
judge, condemned the emperor being absent. What more wicked sentence
was ever pronounced? What more cruel fact, considering the person,
might be committed? Or what thing more brutish and beastly could have
been imagined or devised? And yet hereat were those bishops nothing
ashamed; but meaning to leave their doings in writing, (as an
impudent testimony to their posterity,) established the same for a
law to continue.

But mark what vengeance God took upon this wicked judge. The writers
of the Annals record, that when Fredericus the emperor, and Conradus
his son, being Cæsar, were both dead, the pope, gaping for the
inheritance of Naples and Sicily, and thinking by force to have
subdued the same, came to Naples with a great host of men, where was
heard in the pope's court manifestly pronounced this voice, Thou
wretch, come to receive thy judgment. And the next day after the pope
was found in his bed dead, all black and blue, as though he had been
beaten with bats, as before in the history of King John is declared.

When the emperor had understanding of this cruel and tyrannical
sentence of the pope, passed and pronounced against him, considering
his furious purpose and mind therein, thought good by his letters to
let all Christian princes and potentates understand, as well the
injuries and manifold displeasures he had sustained by the four popes
in all their times, as also the cruelty and tyranny of this pope, in
pronouncing the sentence of judgment and condemnation against him,
(passing the bounds both of justice, equity, and reason,) which
letter as he wrote the same hereunder followeth to be seen.

"Although we suppose not the contrary, but that both by true
certificate and common rumour you have heard of the indifferency of
our cause and good handling thereof; yet for that more credit is
commonly given to that the eye seeth than to that the ear receiveth,
we thought good to present unto you the naked truth of such things
which the popes successively have put forth and forged against us. To
the perusing and consideration of which my case and letter, I beseech
your gentleness, amongst other times of leisure, that you will spy
out some fit and convenient time therefore. And all other whatsoever
that shall have desire to hear princes' counsels and affairs, let
them in like sort attentively consider, first, whether our
predecessors have been destitute or not of godly zeal, just dealing,
and righteousness; and whether we may not lawfully revenge ourselves,
being so much provoked, of such evils and injuries as have been
wrought against us. Secondly, let them consider whether Christ's
vicar doth follow Christ's steps or not; and whether Peter's
successors do follow his example or not; and also by what law,
equity, and right that sentence which they have pronounced against us
may be maintained and allowed; as also what name they may justly give
it, and whether that may be said to be a sentence which is given by
an unsufficient judge or not. For although we acknowledge that the
Lord hath given full power in spiritual things unto his church, that
whatsoever the same bindeth in earth is bound in heaven, and
whatsoever the same looseth is also loosed; yet we read neither by
God's law, nor by any law of man, that we ought of duty to be subject
unto him, or that an empire ought at his pleasure to be transformed
and transposed, or that he may give any such sentence or judgment to
punish princes temporally, and deprive them of their kingdoms. For
why? Although our consecration belongeth unto him by right and
custom, (as he challengeth,) yet our deposing and depriving doth no
more belong to him, than doth that presumption belong to any other
prelate of other realms, which do consecrate and anoint their kings,
as the custom and manner is. Or put case it were so, (we nothing
hindered hereby,) that he had such power; hath he that power to the
intent to revenge himself upon whomsoever his malicious mind
consenteth, and without all equity and law to bring them under his
jurisdiction? He hath proceeded of late against us, as is said, but
not by the order of accusation, forsomuch as neither was there any
sufficient accuser, neither went there out any inscription or process
before; neither yet by denunciation, forsomuch as there lacked a
lawful denouncer; neither yet by the way of inquisition, for that
there went before it no manifest accusation. But he peradventure will
say that all things that he layeth against us were manifest and
notorious. But that do we deny, and nothing to be notorious, but that
which may by a sufficient number of witnesses be approved and tried.
For so may every judge himself (contemning the order of law) affirm
what he lust to be notorious, and thus condemn whom he list. There
were against us (as well it may be said in council) certain false
witnesses, although not many, of whom the bishop of Calin was one,
whose near kinsman or nephew (by our laws condemned for treason to be
hanged) maketh also to us an infestine enemy." To such-like effect
prosecuting the rest of his epistle, which for brevity sake I omit.

This policy used the pope to vex and disturb both the country of
Germany and the whole empire; and not so only, but also utterly to
destroy and subvert the same; by the ruinous decay whereof the pope
and his prelates thought to make up their mouths. And thus, whilst
that Germany was now newly again divided, some taking part with
Frederic the emperor, and Conrad Cæsar, his son, and other nobles and
princes of the empire, some with those that should by the pope's
procurement be the electors of the new emperor, other some with
neither of both, as men not minding nor tending to the public
utility, but to serve their own purposes, armed themselves; and thus
was the public peace and quiet broken and disturbed, and all together
in tumult and hurly-burly. For whilst the one part laboured by all
force to retain the dominion by public and common consent first to
him committed, the other part in like sort endeavoured themselves
with all their force and power to use and occupy the same, according
unto the decree of the bishop of Rome, and to take it from Frederic:
thus great conflicts grew on all parts.

By these civil wars Germany suffered no little calamity; in every
place was manslaughter and murder; the country spoiled, the towns and
villages set on fire and burnt, the churches and temples, wherein the
husbandmen had put their goods and substance, violated and robbed;
houses were pulled down, the goods divided, and every man's cattle
driven away. To conclude, in this turmoil and contention of deposing
and choosing another emperor, in this faction of princes, and this
liberty of wearing armour, in this licence of hurting and sinning,
the impudent boldness of divers private soldiers, and especially of
such as were the horsemen, then counted the better sort of soldiers,
was so great, and their unbridled and insatiable desire in robbing,
spoiling, and taking of booties, catching and snatching all that came
to hand, so much, that nothing could be sure and in safety that any
good man enjoyed. Wherefore, a little before the deathof Gulielmus
the king, threescore cities and towns which were belonging to Louis
Palatinus, duke of Boioria and Rhenus, and Otho his son, and other
princes, whose names Aventinus, in his seventh book of the Annals of
the Boiores, maketh mention of, joined themselves in a league for the
expelling of these rebels, and repressing of their so great injurious
rapines and slaughter of men. Of which army the said Louis being
captain, he chased and drave the whole rout of them to the uttermost
parts of Germany, and pulled down and overthrew their castles and
fortresses, and every other place where they had intrenched
themselves.

Otho Boius yet notwithstanding keepeth his promise and faith most
constantly made before to the Emperor Frederic and Conradus his son.
Whereupon, Philippus Juvanensis, Albert, and others, calling a
council at Mildorsus, (by the pope's commandment,) sent for Otho unto
them, unto whom they opened the pope's pleasure and commandment. To
all which, when he had heard, Otho answered, I cannot marvel at some
of you enough, that whenas heretofore you persuaded me to leave and
forsake the part I took with the bishop of Rome, whom you yourselves
affirmed to be antichrist, and that I should take part with the
emperor, why that you yourselves will not keep your fidelity and
promise made unto those good princes: and he said that he perceived
in them a great inconstancy and levity, both in their words and
deeds, which now call that wicked, unjust, and violent wrong, that
but lately they thought equal, just, and right. He said further, that
they were overcome with pleasures, corrupted with superfluity, won
with bribes, gaping for honour and estimation; and that they neither
regarded honesty, godliness, nor their duty and office; but studied
how to make dissension and commotions, and longed after war and
bloody battle.

He said further, that for his part he would obey God and his prince,
to whom he had sworn fidelity, and that he nought esteemed the
feigned holiness and detestable practices of such prelates. He said
he believed in Christ, and would trust to his mercy, and that he
believed how those whom they cursed and gave to the devil were in
greatest favour with God. Howbeit, and notwithstanding those prelates
took in good part this expostulation of his, and seemed to bear Otho
no malice or grudge for that he had said, but to be desirous of peace
and unity; yet not long after Otho was cursed as black as all the
rest, and counted as bad as the worst.

Albertus, the pope's champion now in Germany, playeth not only rex
amongst the citizens, but also bethought him of a mischievous device
against Conrad Cæsar, the emperor's son. When by fraud end subtlety
he had gotten and taken many of the rich burgesses and citizens of
Reginoburgh, which bare the emperor good-will, and had sent them
prisoners to Staffum, Conrad, joining with other noblemen of the
empire, (after he had spoiled and wasted much of his lands and others
his companions,) drave him so near, that upon certain other
conditions he delivered again the citizens. And shortly after coming
again to Reginoburgh, and being received and welcomed into the
college of D. Hamaranus, Albert, with certain of his confederates, by
the means of Ulricus, a chief officer of the monks, came in the dead
time of the night into the chamber, where the Cæsar with a few others
about him did lie; and falling upon them, some they took, and other
some they slew; and finding no other body in the chamber or lodging,
they thought that Cæsar had been slain among the rest. But he,
hearing the noise, forsook his bed, and hid himself under a bench,
and so escaped their hands. The next day he outlawed or proscribed
the bishop and his mates, and also the monk's bailiff, of treason,
and seized upon all the goods of the house. But at the suit of the
guiltless monks he released all to them again, taking by way of fine
one hundred pounds. Ulricus lost his office, and Albertus, thereby to
escape danger of punishment, took upon him the habit of a monk.
Conrad Hochenfolseus, which was the murderer of these men, though he
escaped the punishment of man's hand, yet the vengeance of God for
the fact be escaped not. For as he rode in the day time abroad, he
was suddenly struck with a thunderbolt and died.



59. FREDERIC'S LAST CAMPAIGN AND DEATH. SUMMARY OF HIS CHARACTER

During all this busy and contentious time, it may well be gathered,
that Frederic the emperor lay not still, but had his hands full; who
notwithstanding (by God's help overcoming and suppressing these or
the greater part of these rebellious popish tumults, and having done
strict execution on those especially that had conspired against his
person) calling a council, and setting in some stay the troublesome
affairs of his kingdom, came to Cremona with Frederic, prince of
Antioch, Richard, earl of Umbria, the governor of Flamminia, and
Encius, king of Sardinia, with a great number besides of soldiers and
men of war. And besides, he took with him (which he sent for out of
every part) the wisest, most virtuous, and best learned men that
there were, thinking with them to have gone himself to Lyons to the
pope, and there to have with him communication, as well concerning
the sentence definitive, as also about the conclusion of any peace,
if by any means he might. And when all things were prepared and
ready, he took the journey in hand, and came to Taurinum, having with
him both a great army of soldiers, and also a great company of
legates and ambassadors. From thence sending his carriages before,
within three days' journey of Lyons he was certified that Parma was
taken and kept by the outlaws of divers and sundry factions of the
pope, his near neighbours and friends; as by the pope's legate, and
other citizens, as of Brixia, Placentia, and such like. Which thing
when he understood, and that the pope herein was the only and chief
doer, he saw manifestly it should little prevail to attempt any
further the thing he went about; and then at length, when he saw no
other remedy, putting from him all hope of peace, determined himself
to the wars with all his force and might. Thus, altering his purpose
and journey, he took the straightest way into Lombardy, and with an
army of sixty thousand men he besieged Parma. And to the intent he
might more aptly and near the town plant his siege and battery
without disturbance, first he entrenched his camp, and fortified the
same about with bulwarks and other defensible munition. After that,
he caused divers victualling houses and taverns in his camp to be
slightly builded of timber; and without the camp be appointed the
place where the market should be kept, and all victuallers resort
that would. He appointed places for their churches and temples, and
in seemly manner adorned the same; and for the most part their tents
were builded with wood, so that it was like another Parma. All which
things when he had finished, which was not long in doing, for this
happy and prosperous success he called and named it Victoria, and had
thought to have made the same to be in the stead of the city of
Parma, the which he purposed to have made level with the ground. And
in the beginning, both there and elsewhere, all things prospered well
with Frederic, and had good success; for he sharply laid to their
charges that defended and kept the city of Parma. And further, Robert
Castilioneus, which was the emperor's lieutenant in Picenum, near
unto Auximum, discomfited the pope's army, and slew of them more than
four thousand, and took many such as were of the confederate cities
prisoners. And when the factions or companies of the Ghibellines and
Guelphs in Florentia were at controversy, when Frederic of Etruria
came to the Ghibellines, to whom they had sent for aid, the Guelphs,
therewith dismayed, fled from thence to Bononia, whose goods and
substance came all to the emperor's coffers, and Florentia also
itself to the emperor's obedience. But this good success and
prosperous fortune lasted not long. For as at a time Frederic to
recreate himself (which seldom had his health) rode about the fields
with certain of his horsemen to hawk and hunt, many of the emperor's
soldiers, thinking nothing less than of such a matter to be attempted
of a many starvelings within the town of Parma, wandered and ranged
unarmed out of their city Victoria about the fields. The soldiers in
Parma, having this occasion offered, with all force and speed
possible entered the emperor's camp or town Victoria; which being not
strongly fenced, nor having gates to shut against them, was a thing
easy enough to do. The sudden strangeness of the matter much abashed
the soldiers, and they rang out their larum bell. The first assault
was given upon Marcus Malaspina's charge; whom when the emperor,
returning in all haste, found to be hard beset, he had thought to
have rescued him. But when that was perceived of the enemy, they bent
all their force altogether on that side, insomuch that the emperor
was forced to take the trench, lest he should have been of the enemy
environed; and from thence he retired into the city or camp, where he
had thought to have gathered further aid. But the enemy, giving not
so much time thereunto, with all force entered the city Victoria. The
emperor now, when the enemies were entered, left the camp, and came
to Dominum; who, when they had killed and slain a great number of the
emperor's soldiers, and had burnt and destroyed the same camp
Victoria, came again to Parma. The emperor then suspecting this thing
to be wrought by treason, whereby the enemy had understanding as well
of the emperor's absence, as also of the negligence of his soldiers,
imprisoned certain of the chiefest about him, amongst whom also was
Peter of Venice. Yet whilst he was at Dominum, gathering together his
soldiers and residue of his bands, Encius getteth a great victory of
the Mansuanos, who, coming to the rescue of Parma, lost fifty of
their ships, and all that they had in them.

After this also, Richard in another conflict in Picenum discomfited
the pope's soldiers, and slew their captain Hugolinus, besides two
thousand others slain and taken prisoners. When now Frederic had
gathered again, and new-mustered his bands at Dominum, he marched
forth to Cremona; and notwithstanding that there he understood of the
good success and victory that Encius had at Rhegium, yet for that he
perceived the defection and backsliding of all or most part of
Lombardy from him, he determined to take his journey into Apulia. And
when he had there levied a strong and sufficient power, he purposed
to make a speedy return again into Lombardy. Therefore, in his
journey through Etruria into Apulia, he joined with his son Frederic,
which besieged Capras, and took the same; and led with him divers of
the chiefest captains prisoners, and after that, subduing unto the
obedience of the empire Miniatum, he came into Apulia.

When news was brought him thither, that Encius his son (coming to aid
the Mutinenses against the Bononians) was taken prisoner two miles
from Mutina; and that in his absence the pope's captains, with their
bands and garrisons, went throughout all Lombardy, Emilia, Flamminia,
and Etruria, to stir and procure the cities to revolt from the
obedience of the emperor; and working the same, partly by subtle
policies, and partly by force and sinister means, to bring them to
his purpose; he determined with himself, with all the force and power
he might by any means procure and make, to have begun afresh, and
prosecuted his war to the uttermost. Neither was it to be doubted (as
Pandolphus Colonucius writeth) but that he would have wrought some
marvellous exploit and great attempt, but that he was of this his
purpose (whereunto he was both willing and bent) prevented by
unlooked-for death. For when he fell into this ague, being at a
certain castle of his in Apulia, called Florentinum, and saw by the
extremity thereof his days to be short, he remembered that which was
once showed him, how he should die at Florence; whereupon he made and
ordained his testament. And when unto Conrad and other his children
he had given and appointed the great and innumerable mass of money
which he had collected and levied for the maintenance of his wars,
and godly purpose, (as it is called,) and unto them also had given
all other his kingdoms and dominions, (to every one according to
their ages and years,) he departed this wretched and miserable world.

Pandolphus writeth, that Frederic was very willing to die, and, as
they made certain report to him which were present at his death, that
his mind was altogether set and bent on the heavenly joy and
felicity. Which thing also William Putranus, Andrew Pandalus, and
Manardus, the bishop, being Italian writers, do all affirm; of whom
this last writeth, that he assuredly believeth Frederic to be one of
the number of God's elect.

The writers, notwithstanding, are of sundry judgments and opinions
touching this good emperor's death. Some write that he was
traitorously poisoned by his cup-bearer, being hired thereunto. Some
others, that he was strangled with a pillow of Manfred, the son of
Pherus. But Pandolph, as good a writer as the best, maketh no mention
of any poison that was given him, but only that he died of an ague.
The last opinion of Manfred he manifestly refuteth, and showeth that
there is no manner of likelihood of the same; and further, that the
contrary is affirmed by divers other writers that were of that time.
He died in the year of our Lord 1268, the thirteenth day of December,
in the seven and fiftieth year of his age, and seven and thirtieth
year of his reign, whose corpse was brought to Panormum, and there
entombed.

Frederic had three wives: the first was Constantia, the daughter of
the king of Arragon; of whom he begat Henry, the duke of Suevia and
king of the Romans: the other Jole, the daughter of Johannes Brennus,
king of Jerusalem, by whom he had the inheritance of Jerusalem,
Naples, and Sicily; of whom he begat Conrad, duke of Suevia, king of
Jerusalem and Naples, being Cæsar: the third, Isabella, the daughter
of King John of England; by whom he had a son named Henry, which is
said to die in his childhood. This Frederic had not his peer in
martial affairs and warlike policies to be compared unto him amongst
all the princes of that age: a wise and skilful soldier he was, a
greater endurer of painful labours and travels, most bold in greatest
perils, prudent in foresight, industrious in all his doings, prompt
and nimble about that he took in hand, and in adversity most stout
and courageous. But as in this corruption of nature few there be that
attain perfection, neither yet is there any prince almost of such
government and godly institution both in life and doctrine as is
required of them; so neither was this Frederic without his fault and
human fragility; for the writers impute to him some fault of
concupiscence, wherewith he was stained and spotted. And it appeareth
that he was not all clear thereof, forasmuch as by sundry concubines
he had sundry children; as Encius, the king of Sardinia, Manfred, the
prince of Sarentinum, and Frederic, king of Antioch. And this is all
that I find of the description of Frederic by Colonucius, which he
affirmeth that he gathered out of good and probable authors. But as
touching the heinous acts and flagitious deeds which the pope
burdeneth him withal, and in his sentence against him maketh mention
of, Frederic not only purgeth himself thereof, but also divers
historians (as well German writers as Italians) affirm the same to be
false, and of the pope's own brains invented to do him injury. Of
which matter those things which Pandolph, touching the commendation
or dispraise of Frederic, writeth I thought good out of Italian to
translate; whose words be these.

"Albeit the emperor Frederic was endued with many goodly gifts and
virtues, yet, notwithstanding, was he accounted an enemy of the
church, and a persecutor of the same; of which both Innocent the
Fourth in his sentence hath pronouncedhim guilty, and the same
sentence have other popes registered in their six books of decretals,
and stablished the same for a law, how that he ought to be taken for
no less. Therefore peradventure it should not become me to falsify or
call in question that which others have confirmed, or else to dispute
and argue much of that matter. Yet, notwithstanding, as much as his
acts and deeds in writing declare, and the books of the chiefest
authors affirm, as also his own epistles do testify, I cannot
precisely say, whether the bishops of Rome so call him and judge him
therefore; or else for that he was somewhat too bold in speaking and
telling them but the truth, and reproving the ecclesiastical order of
their great abuses; or else, whether for that he would have had them
gone somewhat more near the conditions and lives of the ancient
fathers of the primitive church and disciples of Christ; or whether
for that he defended and stood with them for the prerogative and
dignities belonging to the empire or not; or else, whether they stood
in fear and awe of the great power he was of in Italy, which thing
indeed Gregory the Ninth in a certain epistle of his confesseth: but
of these things let them judge and discern that shall read the
monuments and histories of Frederic. Truly, saith he, when I consider
with myself that Christ, whose vicar the Roman bishops boast
themselves to be, said unto his disciples, that they should follow
him, and also imitate his example, as of their Master and Teacher;
and commanded them furthermore, how they should not draw the sword,
but put up the same into the scabbard; and further, gave them in
precept that they should not only forgive injuries seven times, but
seventy times seven times to those that offended them; and when I now
compare the lives of the bishops of Rome, how near they follow him
whose vicar they say they be; and consider so many and great
conspiracies, treasons, rebellions, disloyalties, lyings in wait, and
treacherous devices, so many legates of the pope's, (being
ecclesiastical persons,) which will needs be called the shepherds of
Christ's flock, to be such warriors and captains of soldiers in all
the parts of Italy, Campania, Apulia, Calabria, (being the emperor's
dominions,) in Picenum, Emilia, Flamminia, and Lombardy, to be sent
out against him; and also when with myself I meditate the destruction
of so many great and famous cities, the subversion of such
commonwealths, the slaughter of so many men, and the effusion of so
much Christian blood; and lastly, when I behold so victorious,
prosperous, and fortunate emperors to be, and so many miserable,
unfortunate, and vanquished popes put to flight; I am persuaded with
myself to think and believe, that the judgments of God are secret 4nd
marvellous, and that to be true which Æneas Sylvius, in his history
of Austria, writeth, that there is no great and marvellous slaughter,
no notorious and special calamity, (that hath happened either to the
public weal, or else to the church of God,) of the which the bishops
of Rome have not been the authors. Nicholas Machiavel also saith,
that all the ruinous calamities and miserable chances that the whole
Christian commonwealth and also Italy hath suffered, have been
brought in by the popes and bishops of Rome.

Many epistles of Frederic there be which he wrote unto the bishops of
Rome, to the cardinals, and to divers other Christian princes, all
which I have read, and in them is to be seen nothing contrary unto
Christian doctrine, nothing wicked and ungodly, nothing injurious to
the church of God, nothing contumelious or arrogantly written of
Frederic. But indeed I deny not the same to be fraught and full of
pitiful complaints and lamentations, touching the avaricious ambition
of the ecclesiastical persons, and pertinacy of the bishops of Rome,
and that he would receive and take no satisfaction nor yet excuse in
the defence of the right and privilege of the empire which he
maintained; also of their manifold and infinite conspiracies which
they practised both secretly and openly against him; and of the often
admonitions which he gave to the whole multitude and order
ecclesiastical to attend upon and discharge their functions and
charges. And who that further is desirous to know and understand the
truth, and coveteth to search out the renowned virtues of magnificent
princes, let them read the epistle of Frederic, dated to all
Christian princes, which thus beginneth, Collegerunt principes,
pontifices et Pharisæi concilium; and another, wherein he persuadeth
the college of cardinals to take up the dissension between the
emperor and the pope, which beginneth, In exordio nascentis mundi;
and also another which thus beginneth, veritatis testem; besides yet
another, Ad reges et principes orbis Christiani; with divers others
more, wherein may well be seen the princely virtues of this so worthy
a peer: all which epistles, collected together in the Latin tongue,
the learned sort I wished to read, whereout they may pick no little
benefit and commodity to themselves. In his epistle last recited
these are his words: Think ye not that we so earnestly desire or
crave this peace at your hands, as though our Majesty were terrified
with the pope's sentence of deprivation; when God, upon whom we trust
and invocate, is our witness, and judge of our conscience, that when
we went about to reform the ecclesiastical state, but especially the
ringleaders of the same, and should restrain their power, and
extirpate their great tyranny, and reduce the same to the state and
condition of the primitive church, we looked for no less at their
hands.' For these causes peradventure those which had the government
of the ecclesiastical dignity decreed and pronounced Frederic to be
an enemy to the church; which, as I have said, I leave to others to
judge thereof." Hitherto Pandolphus Colonucius.

And doubtless examples to the contrary do appear, that Frederic was
no enemy to the Church of Rome, for that he both gave large and great
gifts thereunto, and also franchised the same with great privileges
and immunities, which things by his own constitutions, statutes, and
customs may be perceived and understood. But rather contrariwise,
that the bishops of Rome most filthily recompensed the same his great
liberality and princely benevolence again, which he gave and bestowed
upon the same, as partly in the discourse of this history you have
heard; who, notwithstanding they so molested and tired him with such
and so many injuries as you have seen, he nevertheless, forgiving and
pardoning all the same, for the great zeal he had to the common
Christian wealth, (whereof he more forced than of any other thing,)
sought by all means he might for to have peace, although it were to
his own great hinderance. Therefore, seeing he was of necessity by
the bishops of Rome provoked to that war, if he did them any scath in
revenge of his imperial dignity, let them thank their own selves,
which might otherwise have remedied the same. Notwithstanding, upon
this occasion divers (both Italian and German writers, which at that
time sought for fat benefices, and ever since, even unto these our
days, have done the like, by flattery rather to obtain that which
they hunted for, than to bear true and faithful testimony of things
as they were indeed) took great occasion to write and slander this
good emperor. But let us pass over these parasites, and return to
those which, although they themselves were of that calling, I mean of
the ecclesiastical order, yet, notwithstanding, for that they rather
preferred the study of verity, and to reverence the truth before
popish authority and flattering servitude, greatly extolled and
commended this good emperor Frederic. So did Nicolaus Cusanus, a
cardinal, in his writing affirm this emperor to be a Charlemagne,
both for his wisdom and also diligent regard to the commonwealth. So
also writeth Ægidius Biturigum, the bishop, in his books of the
institution and bringing up of a prince, which he wrote to the French
king, exhorting him and all others to take a pattern of this most
worthy and excellent prince.

Wherefore, insomuch as it appeareth by the approved writers of whom I
have made mention,who and what manner of prince Frederic this emperor
was, and that because he diligently laboured as well in the
preservation of the Christian commonwealth, as in the conservation of
the imperial dignity, he procured to himself the great hatred and
displeasure of the Roman bishops, (who have been to all the good
emperors for the most part utter foes and enemies,) and with what
wicked slanders and other injuries both by them and by their
ministers they continually molested him; this lesson ought to be
ours, that having the same in our memory, we imitate and follow his
virtues, hating and detesting the wicked and flagitious doings of
those holy fathers that will so be called, and bishops of Rome;
desiring God that he will so guide the hearts of all kings and
princes, that they may by his grace advance and set forth his glory,
and reform the corrupt and vicious manner and order of the church to
all sincerity and purity both of life and doctrine.



60. GULIELMUS AND OTHER CHAMPIONS OF CHRIST

As ye have heard of the iniquity and raging pride of the popish
church against their lawful emperor; so now shall ye hear (Christ
willing) how God beginneth to resist and withstand the corruption of
that whorish church, by stirring up certain faithful teachers in
sundry countries; as in the country of Suevia about the time of this
emperor, A.D. 1240, or near upon the same, where were many preachers,
mentioned in the Chronicle of Urspergensis, and also in Crantzius,
which preached freely against the pope. These preachers, (as
Crantzius saith,) ringing the bells, and calling the barons in Hallis
of Suevia, there preached that the pope was a heretic, and that his
bishops and prelates were simoniacs and heretics; and that the
inferior priests and prelates had no authority to bind and loose, but
were all seducers. Item, that no pope, bishop, or priest could
restrain men from their duty of serving and worshipping of God, and
therefore such cities or countries as were then under the pope's
curse might, notwithstanding, lawfully resort to the receiving of
sacraments as well as before. Item, that friars, Dominic and
Franciscan, did subvert the church with their preaching. And that the
indulgence of the pope and his popelings was of no regard; but that
remission which they did preach unto them, they preached it not from
the pope, but as from the Lord. And thus much I thought here to
recite, whereby it may appear how the resisting of the pope's usurped
power and corrupt doctrine is no new thing in these days in the
church of Christ, &c.

And not long after these aforesaid, rose up Arnoldus de Nova Villa, a
Spaniard, and a man famously learned, and a great writer, A.D. 1250,
whom the pope with his spiritualty condemned among heretics for
holding and writing against the corrupt errors of the popish church.
His teaching was, that Satan had seduced the world from the truth of
Christ Jesus. Item, that the faith (which then Christian men were
commonly taught) was such a faith as the devils had; meaning belike
(as we now affirm) that the papists do teach only the historical
faith, which is the faith historiæ, non fiduciæ. Item, that Christian
people (meaning belike for the most part) are led by the pope unto
hell. Item, that all cloisterers are void of charity, and damned; and
that they all do falsify the doctrine of Christ. Item, that the
divines do evil in mixing philosophy with divinity. Item, that masses
are not to be celebrated; and that they ought not to sacrifice for
the dead. Certain other opinions there be which the slanderous sects
of monks and friars do attribute unto. him; but (as they are wont in
all other to do) rather upon envious taking, than of any just cause
given.

And as this Arnold was condemned, so also the same time Johannes
Semeca, the gloss-writer of the pope's decrees, and provost of
Halberstat, was excommunicated and deprived of his provostship, for
resisting Pope Clement the Fourth, gathering certain exactions in
Germany; and therefore he appealed from the pope to a general
council, and had many great favourers on his side, till at last both
the pope and he died.

Consequently in this order and number followeth the worthy and
valiant champion of Christ and adversary of antichrist Gulielmus de
S. Amore, a master of Paris, and chief ruler then of that university.
This Gulielmus in his time had no small ado, writing against the
friars, and their hypocrisy, but especially against the begging
friars, both condemning their whole order, and also accusing them as
those that did disturb, and trouble all the churches of Christ, by
their preaching in churches against the will of the ordinaries and
pastors, by their hearing of confessions, and executing the charges
of curates and pastors in their churches. All the testimonies of
Scripture that make against antichrist he applieth them against the
clergy of prelates, and the pope's spiritualty. The same Gulielmus is
thought to be the author of the book, which is attributed to the,
school of Paris, and entitled De Periculis Ecclesiæ, where he proveth
by nine and thirty arguments that friars be false apostles.

Moreover, he doth well expound this saying of Christ, If thou wilt be
perfect, go and sell away all thou hast, and come follow me;
declaring there poverty to be enjoined us of Christ, not in such sort
as standeth in outward action, when no need requireth; but inward
affection of heart, when need shall require. As though the meaning
and precept of our Lord were not, that we should cast away actually
all that we have; but that, when the confession of the name of God
and the glory of Christ shall so require, then we be ready to leave
and relinquish what things soever for the sake of him, &c. As when he
requireth in us, after the like phrase, hatred of father and mother,
and of our own lives, he biddeth us not to dishonour father or
mother, much less to hate them; but that then, when case shall
require, we set all things behind the love of Christ. Many other
worthy works he compiled, wherein albeit he uttered nothing but what
was truth, yet notwithstanding he was by antichrist and his rabble
condemned for a heretic, exiled, and his books burnt; whose heretical
arguments, as they called them, that thou mayest better judge
thereof, hereunder I thought good to place.

Against false prophets, with signs to know them by, these his words
do follow. For because these seducers (saith he) name themselves to
be apostles, and say that they are sent of God to preach, to absolve
and dispense with the souls of men, by means of their ministry, read
the saying of the apostle in his Second Epistle to the Corinthians,
chap. xi., For such apostles are subtle and crafty workmen,
disguising themselves to be like the apostles of Christ. Therefore we
mean to show some certain infallible tokens and probable, by the
which false apostles may be discerned from the true preachers and
apostles of Christ.

The first sign or mark is, that such as be true preachers do not
enter into simple women's houses laden with sin, and take them as it
were captive, as many of the false preachers do; as in the Second
Epistle of St. Paul to Timothy, the third chapter, is manifest,
saying, Of those sorts are they which enter into women's houses, &c.
Therefore those preachers which come into women's houses, to the
intent they may take them captive, be not true preachers, but false
apostles.

The second sign and token is, that those that be true preachers do
not deceive simple men with painted and flattering words, whereby
they prefer their own trash and tradition, as all false prophets do,
as in the last chapter to the Romans appeareth, saying, By their
pleasant and sugared talk, and by their blessing and crossing, they
deceive and beguile the hearts of innocent men and women. Glossary.
Which gay, glorious words they extol and set forth their traditions,
whereby they deceive simple men. Very greatly do they deceive the
souls of simple men, which cause them to enter intotheir sect, which
they term religion. And they which before led a naughty life, by
reason of their ignorance or simplicity, after their entrance become
subtle and false deceiving hypocrites, entering together with the
rest into poor men's houses; yea, and oftentimes become worse than
the others. Whereupon Matt. xxiii., Woe be unto you, scribes and
Pharisees, hypocrites! which go about, &c. Therefore they which do
this are no true messengers, but false apostles.

The third sign is, that the true apostles, if they be reproved,
suffer the same patiently, 2 Cor. xii., saying, The tokens of my
apostleship are accomplished among you in all patience and
sufferance, meaning that patience which pertaineth to the manners of
the preachers. Therefore they which suffer not correction or
punishment be no true apostles, but rather show themselves to be no
Christians at all: 1 Cor. xii., No man can say that Jesus is the
Lord, but by the Holy Ghost. Glossary. It is meet that Christians
should be humbled, to the intent that they may suffer themselves to
be reproved, and not to be holden up with yea and nay. And also such
men do show themselves to be carnal, and not spiritual at all,
although they feign themselves to be spiritual: Gal. iii., Therefore
am I become an enemy unto you. Notwithstanding the Glossary saith, No
carnal man will be reproved, although he err. Wherefore those
preachers which suffer not correction seem not to be true apostles,
but false prophets.

The fourth sign is, that true apostles commend not themselves: 2 Cor.
iv., For we dare not join ourselves, nor yet compare ourselves, unto
others, which commend and boast of many of their acts, when God
alloweth none of them at all. Also true preachers, although they be
indeed praiseworthy for their good deserts, in the consciences of men
are they praiseworthy, and not to the outward show alone: 2 Cor. We
commend ourselves (saith the apostle) to the consciences of all men.
Then they do not commend themselves in comparison of others.
Wherefore the Glossary saith upon the same place, Those that deserve
no commendation but in comparison of others, do challenge to
themselves other men's deserts and praise. Wherefore in the Second
Epistle of St. Peter, the last chapter, it is said, Even as our well
beloved brother Paul, according to the wisdom that God hath given
unto him, hath written unto you. Glossary. The chiefest of the
apostles hath here forgotten his papal authority, and also his keys
that were delivered unto him; for he is astonished as it were at the
great wisdom given unto his brother Paul. For indeed it is the manner
of the elect children of God, to be more in love with the virtues of
other men than with their own. Wherefore in Phil. ii it is written,
Let those that are superiors esteem of themselves in all humility.
They therefore that do the contrary, saying that their state or
doings be better than other men's, although they be preachers, yet
are they no true apostles indeed, but false prophets.

The fifth sign is, that true apostles need no letters of
commendation, nor yet desire to have themselves praised of men; as in
2 Cor. iii. the apostle saith, We need not the letters of
commendation of any man, that is to say, of false prophets.

The sixth sign is, that true apostles do not preach unless they be
sent, as in the 10th chapter to the Romans, How shall they preach
unless they be sent? There be no true apostles but those that be
sent; for they have no need of signs which are true witness-bearers;
but those that be not sent and do preach are false prophets.

The seventh sign is, forasmuch as false prophets have their authority
in their own names; wherefore, in the Second Epistle of St. Paul to
the Corinthians, it is written, For we dare not boast of ourselves or
make comparison; that is to say, with those that be false prophets,
not taking their authority from God, but usurping the same, desirous
to bear rule, claiming in their own name their authority. And
therefore, although peradventure by presumption they say that they
are sent of God, as all heretics will say; yet notwithstanding,
unless they shall prove their sending either by spiritual prophecy,
as John Baptist did, saying, I am the voice of a crier in the desert;
as out of the prophet Isaiah in the 1st chapter of St. John's Gospel
is alleged; or else by miracles, as Moses did, which turned his rod
into a serpent, and again, from a serpent to a rod, as in Exod. vii.;
they ought for to be excommunicated, till such time as they cease
from preaching. Yet, notwithstanding, a miracle ought not to be a
sufficient testimony of their sending, forasmuch as they be done
oftentimes, and that of evil and wicked men: 1. q. 1. we may perceive
towards the end. But miracles ought to be suspected, forasmuch as our
Saviour saith, Matt. xxiii., Then shall false prophets arise, &c.
Therefore they which do challenge authority in their own name,
forasmuch as they have not their authority from God, they are not
true apostles, but false. preachers.

The eighth sign is, that false prophets, pretending great wisdom and
holiness to be in superstition, have named their own traditions to be
religion, the which are rather to be counted sacrilege or church
robbery, and do usurp unto themselves, for due deserts of other men,
by boasting, and bragging among strange and unknown people. Wherefore
the apostle, speaking of false prophets in Col. ii., saith, According
to the precepts of men, which having a face of wisdom, consist in
superstition, interlaced with humility; that is to say, mingled with
feigned religion, that it might be called religion, when in very deed
it is nothing else but sacrilege, because it is contrary to all
authority, that is, contrary to God himself, that any man should
desire to have government of a multitude without public commandment;
as in Deut. xxiii., Thou hast entered into thy neighbour's vineyard,
that is to say, into the church of another bishop. May a man warn and
admonish others, or else correct that congregation which is not
lawful for him to govern, nor yet to take so great a charge on him?
No. And that it is not lawful to enter into another bishop's diocess,
it is apparent, because it is not lawful for the archbishop so to do.
To this effect appertaineth that which is read, 6. q. 3. And also it
is written 9. q. 2. throughout. Therefore those preachers, which
against God and his Divine Scriptures do call their own traditions
religion, are not apostles, but false prophets.

The ninth sign is, by the authority which they have; for although
they be no preachers of the gospel or ministers of the sacraments,
yet they will live by the gospel, and not by the labour of their own
hands, against the text in 2 Thess. iii., Neither have we eaten any
man's bread for nought, or of free cost. Then those false prophets
ought much more to live by their labour, which have not that
authority which we ought to have; that is to say, to live by the
gospel. And St. Augustine speaketh of this more expressly in his book
De Opere Monachorum, by these words: Those our brethren do claim to
themselves (very rashly, as me thinketh) that they have any such
authority to live by the gospel. If they be preachers of the gospel,
I grant that indeed they have such authority; if they be ministers of
the altar, if they be disposers of the sacraments, they cannot well
but take to themselves this authority, as also manifestly to
challenge the same, if at the least they have not wherewithal to
sustain this present life without labour of their hands. As though he
would have said, If they be not such manner of men, then have they no
authority to live by the gospel. Therefore those preachers which have
no authority to live by the gospel, or else minister the sacraments,
because they have no congregation whereby to take charge of souls,
and yet for all that will needs live upon the gospel, they be no true
apostles, but false prophets.

The tenth sign is, that false teachers rejoice more to be commended
themselves, than that the word of God should have the commendation
and praise. But they that are true preachers and apostles are far
otherwise minded, as 2 Thess., Not seeking the praise of men, &c. And
herein he toucheth those false prophets, which desire rather to be
commended themselves, than that the word of God which they preach
should have the commendation; but he is an apostle, which, not
seeking the glory of this present world, but for the glory to come
doth abase himself, to the intent that the preaching and word of God
might be commended and exalted. They therefore which desire to have
praise and to be commended of others, rather than that the word of
God should have the praise, be no true apostles, but false prophets.

The eleventh sign is, that true apostles do preach only for God's
cause, and for the health of souls, and for no temporal gain, as in 2
Cor. iv., saying, We preach not ourselves, &c. Our preaching tendeth
not to our glory and gain, but only to the glory of Christ. But the
preaching of Christ, by those that are false prophets, tendeth to the
contrary. Whereupon in Phil. i. is said, Whether it be upon occasion
given, or else for the verity's sake, let Christ be preached, &c.
False prophets do preach the gospel upon some occasion, as either by
seeking some commodity at the hands of men, or else because of
getting goods, honour, or praise among men. Which notwithstanding
that they be ready and willing, as it should seem, to bear and
sustain injuries; yet they seek not so much the health of him to whom
they preach, as in very deed they do their own commodity and gain.
Whereupon 2 Cor. xii., Because I seek not the things that be yours,
that is to say, not your treasure, as gold and silver, but only you
yourselves. For otherwise it could by no means be gathered that they
should understand him to speak or mean of their substance, because he
more esteemeth them than their money, to the intent that they might
understand his great goodwill towards them. Therefore these evil and
naughty preachers, which preach for worldly gain or honour, or else
for the praise and commendation of men, be no true apostles, but
false prophets. But it may be asked, How shall men understand when
these good fellows preach for their own vain-glory sake? It may be
answered thus, When they preach before they be called, as in 2 Cor.
xi., Whosoever boasteth, let him boast and rejoice in the Lord. Which
thing he cannot by any means do that hath not his authority from God.
For if any such prophet preach, he seeketh his own glory, and that
may easily be perceived. Because he is not called of God, he hath no
such authority of him, that is to say, of his church or congregation;
as Heb.vii., No man taketh to himself any dignity, but he that is
called of God, as Aaron was. He is called of God, that is, lawfully
chosen of the congregation.

The twelfth sign or token of a false prophet is, because such
prophets do counterfeit themselves to have greater care and love to
men's souls than those that be their very governors and pastors have,
although they have no charge at all of them; against whom the
Glossary speaketh, and 1 Thess. ii., We are become meek and loving
towards you, even as the nurse which giveth her child suck. A woman
nurseth other men's children for wages, and not for love alone; but
she giveth her own suck of very love, without respect of money.
Therefore those preachers which feign themselves to have a greater
love and affection to the souls of men, than they that have the
charge over them, seem not to be true apostles. The apostles study
not for eloquence, nor for the curious placing of their words, but
false prophets do them both, as in 2 Cor. xi., If the simple and
uneloquent man, &c. The apostles were not eloquent, but false
prophets are full of curious eloquence. Also upon the same another
Glossary: The Corinthians were led away from the gospel by over-nice
eloquence; 2 Cor. vii., Let us show ourselves before all men as the
ministers of God. The ministers of God do not flatter as false
prophets do. And for this occasion those that be true apostles have
not their abiding in princes' courts and noblemen's houses, knowing
this saying of Christ in St. Matthew's Gospel, Behold, those that are
clothed with silks dwell in kings' courts. And therefore true
apostles are not conversant in princes' courts and noblemen's houses.
Hard and strict life with the preaching of the gospel loveth not to
come near princes' palaces and noblemen's houses. Oftentimes it
cometh to pass that courtiers are found great flatterers; therefore
those preachers that have their abode in princes' courts, or that in
any other place do use to flatter, are no true apostles, but false
prophets.

The thirteenth sign is, that true apostles or messengers do not
circumvent or subtlely go about to deceive men, that they should give
unto them their goods, either in their lifetime, or else at the time
of their death, as in 2 Cor. vii., We have falsely deceived no man;
by the subtle and deceitful getting away of your substance, as false
prophets do, which get away from you those things that be yours under
pretence of great friendship. Also Matthew xxiii., Woe be unto you,
scribes and Pharisees, you hypocrites! which spoil widows' houses by
your long prayers; which mean nothing else by your superstition, but
that you may spoil and rob the people, as Luke xx., Which devour
widows' houses by dissembling of your long prayer. The which make
over-long prayers, to the intent they may seem more devout, and that
they may get both money and great commendation of all such as be sick
and troubled with the burden of their sins; whose prayers be turned
into sin, which neither are profitable for themselves nor any other,
but rather shall have for making those prayers greater damnation,
forsomuch as by the same they deceive others; for by this, that they
receive and take both gold and silver, it appeareth that they preach
not for souls' health sake, but only for filthy lucre and gain sake:
Matt. x., Be ye possessors neither of gold nor silver. If they then
have these things, they cannot seem or be thought to preach for the
health of the soul, but for lucre's sake. And so saith Jerome upon
the prophet Malachi; Because some prophets took money, their prophecy
became divination; that is to say, their prophecy appeared not to be
prophecy, but divination, or enchantment; that is, that such prophecy
proceedeth not from God, but from the devil. And this appeareth in 1.
q. 1, having this beginning, Nunquam divinatio, &c. Therefore those
preachers which circumvent and beguile men, to the intent that they
should give them their goods, either in their lifetime or after their
death, are not true apostles, but false prophets.

The fourteenth sign is, that false prophets, when any verity is
preached, which for the most part they are not acquainted withal, or
that toucheth them, then begin they to chafe and bark against the
same. Whereupon the apostle in the 3rd chapter to the Philippians
saith, Behold the dogs. Understand you that they are not dogs by
nature, but by their usage and conditions, barking against the truth,
which they were never acquainted with. And so he compareth them right
well to dogs, because dogs follow rather custom than reason; so false
apostles do keep the custom of the law, and do bite and bark against
the truth, as though they were without the gift of reason. And also
in the Second Epistle to Timothy, the 4th chapter, saying, They get
them instructors according to their own desires. Which may teach them
what things they themselves are willing to hear, because the truth
seemeth nothing pleasant unto them. Therefore those preachers which
bark against the late revealed truth, which toucheth them very near,
and therefore cause the same to be hidden and kept under, are not
true apostles, but false prophets.

The fifteenth sign is, that the true apostles do not enforce any to
receive or hear them which be unwilling thereunto, but send them away
rather, lest they should seem to seek after some earthly and
transitory thing: Matt. x., Whosoever will not receive you, get you
out of that city, and shake the dust from off your feet, &c., that
you may thereby show that the desire of earthly things hath no power
in you. Therefore those preachers which strive and wrestle, (as it
were,) to the intent they would be received and heard, are no true
apostles, forsomuch as the apostle saith, 1 Cor. xi., If any man
appear among you to be over-contentious or full of strife, such
custom have we none, nor yet the congregation of Christ.

The sixteenth sign is, that the apostles did not procure the
indignation of those princes with whom they were esteemed and
regarded against such persons as would not receive them and hear
them, according as we read in the life of Simon and Jude, the
apostles. The chief ruler, being very angry, commanded a very great
fire to be made, that the bishops might be cast into the same, and
all other which went about to defame the doctrine of the apostles of
Christ. But the apostles fell down before the emperor, saying, We
beseech you, sir, let not us be the authors or causes of this
destruction or calamity; nor let us, which are sent to be the
preservation of men, and to revive those that are dead through sin,
be killers of those that be alive. Therefore those preachers which
seek to stir up the displeasure of princes against them (whose
favours now they enjoy) that will not receive and hear them, or
rather whom they themselves hate, are no true apostles, but false
prophets.

The seventeenth sign is, that the apostles of Christ have not only
the knowledge of those things which God hath already done, but also
of those things which he will hereafter do, as in Apoc. iii., The
beasts were full of eyes both behind and before; obtaining the
knowledge of those things which God had done, as also what he would
do hereafter in the end of the world. Therefore those that say they
know not the perils of the church in the later time which are
prophesied before, or that they care not for them, or else, if they
know them, they have not eyes behind and before, are no true
apostles; therefore what time as they call themselves apostles they
are false prophets.

The eighteenth sign is, that true apostles do not desire the riches
and goods of them to whom they preach, whereby they are discerned
from wolves, that is to say, from false prophets: Acts xx., I have
desired no man's gold nor silver. By this are wolves discerned, for
they desire such things. And again in the same place, For those
things which I had need of, and these which were with me, these hands
have ministered. This example also of labouring is a spectacle for
bishops, whereby they are discerned from wolves. For such as ask or
beg of those to whom they preach, or set any other to ask or beg in
their names, do seem to commit simony, like Gehazi, of whom it is
read in the Third Book of Kings, the 5th chapter, that he craved
certain apparel of Naaman the Syrian, to whom his master Elisha had
restored the benefit of health, notwithstanding he had gotten those
garments unwitting to his master. But some man perhaps will say,
Cannot the preacher ask money or money's worth of those to whom he
preacheth? Or at the least, may not he beg? To this may be answered,
If the preacher by authority preach and feed his flock as a true
pastor with the food of God's word, he may take money or money's
worth; but then it is not begging or craving, but it is by authority,
as 2 Tim. ii., It is meet that the husbandman that tilleth the ground
should first and afore others receive the commodity of his increase.
He putteth the virtuous preacher out of doubt, not preaching for that
intent to make merchandise of the gospel, and giveth him to
understand, that it is lawful for him to take of them whom he feedeth
as his flock, what things soever he hath need of, and doth it not in
begging or craving, but by good authority. It is manifest that it
cannot in any place of the Holy Scripture be found that the preacher
ought to beg. But begging is forbidden of all the apostles of Christ,
and is abhorred of Solomon, and St. Augustine, and reproved by divers
other holy men. Therefore it is manifest that the true apostles do
not desire the temporal goods of them to whom they preach, neither do
they beg or crave the same. They, therefore, that require any thing
of them to whom they preach, or else set any other man to ask for
them, or in their names, do not seem to be true apostles, but false
preachers.

The nineteenth sign is, that true apostles are patient in
tribulation, neither do they render evil for good: Matt. x., Behold,
I send you as sheep among wolves. They that occupy the place of
preaching ought not to procure any evil toward their brethren, as the
example of Christ teacheth, 1 Pet. ii., saying, Who, when he was
reviled, reviled not again, but did submit himself to him that
judgeth justly. They, therefore, that suffer not injury, but rather
do wrong themselves, are not true apostles, but false apostles.

The twentieth sign is, that true apostles at their first coming are
evil entertained, as the Lord saith, Matt. xxiv., Ye shall be hated
of all men for my name's sake; but yet at the length such get the
victory, according to that saying of John, 1 Epist. v., Every thing
that is of God overcometh the world. They, therefore, that in the
beginning rejoice and are well entertained, but in the end are
rejected, seem not to be true apostles, but false.

The twenty-first sign is, that true preachers go not to preach unto
those which have preachers appointed unto them, because they have not
to rejoice of a company belonging to another man's charge, as Rom.
xv., I have preached the gospel where Christ was not before preached,
lest I should build upon another man's foundation, And St. Paul
saith, 1 Cor. x., We are no boasters, nor busy in other men's
matters; where another man had laid the foundation. Likewise in the
same chapter; Not having pleasure to boast of other men's labours;
that is to say, of those which be committed to the government of
another man. Likewise Augustine saith, Honour ought to seek thee, and
not thou honour. Also Chrysostom, Authority is in love with such a
man as refuseth her, and yet abhorreth her not. They, therefore, that
procure and have a desire to preach unto the people committed to
another man's charge, which is an office of honour, especially in
councils, synods, and great assemblies, also in kings' and princes'
courts, and prelates' palaces, are not true apostles, but false
teachers.

The twenty-second sign is, that true apostles, when they know
themselves to do much good in the church and congregation of God,
yet, notwithstanding, are not puffed up with pride: Ezek. O son of
man, I have made thy face as an adamant stone. The adamant stone,
when it draweth iron unto it, is not thereby either lifted up or
altered. Likewise, a true preacher, when he draweth sinners unto him
by his preaching, (whose hearts were as hard as iron,) is never the
more lifted up or higher minded therefore. But as in Luke xviii.,
When ye have done all that ye can, and as well as ye can, yet say
that you are unprofitable servants. Psal. cxv., Not unto us, Lord,
not unto us, but to thy name be given the glory. They, therefore,
that do arrogantly boast themselves of the fruit and benefit that
they have done in the church of God, saying, We have given light to
the universal church, which was blind before our time, and we have
put out the flame of sin in the church of God, (when perhaps they
have more furthered hypocrisy than either truth or verity,) they are
not true prophets, but false, of whom it is spoken in the Psalms, The
mouth of them that speak proud things, &c.

The twenty-third sign is, that true apostles do not seek the favour
of the world, nor yet how to please men, as Gal. i., If I should
please men, that is to say, if I had a desire to please men, I should
not be the servant of God. Whereupon to Timothy, 1 Epist. ii., Not as
men-pleasers; seeking to please, because we have not the pleasing
spirit. Therefore those preachers that seek the favour of the world,
and do labour to this intent that they might please men, are not true
apostles, but false.

The twenty-fourth sign is, that true apostles, when they have meat
and drink, they are contented, neither do they desire over-dainty
fare, according to the saying of Matthew, chap. x., Eating and
drinking those things that are set before them. The gospel condemneth
not altogether costly and delicate fare, yet it so alloweth the same,
that if we have meat and drink, we ought not to grudge, but to be
therewith contented. Therefore those preachers which, although that
neither they be sent, nor have authority to preach, and yet are
offended when they have not fine and delicate fare, are not true
apostles, but false preachers.

The twenty-fifth sign is, that true apostles do love more the law of
God than their own estimation amongst their neighbours, according to
that in Prov. vii., Keep my law as the apple of thine eye, and bind
the same upon thy fingers, and write the same in the table of thy
heart. Whereupon, in Psal. cxix., The law of thy mouth is dearer unto
me than thousands of gold and silver. Charity doth more love the law
of God, than to desire of gold and silver a thousandfold. He,
therefore, that seeth the gospel of Christ trodden under foot, which
is the eternal glad tidings, to be taken away by that cursed one, and
doth neglect and contemn the same, or else, peradventure, consenteth
unto the same, to the outward appearance of the world, and yet,
because he will keep his temporal dignity and estimation, refuseth to
stir up strife and contention about the same, and so to be evil
spoken of, seemeth not to be an apostle of Christ, but rather a false
prophet, if he be a preacher.

The twenty-sixth sign is, that true apostles seek not after such fine
lodgings and wealthy habitations, where they may have all things at
their commandments; but rather such honest resting-places where they
may have necessary things for themselves, with their good wills of
whom they have it. And they take nothing of such whom they see to be
so ready and liberal in giving, nor think that they do him more
pleasure in receiving the gift, than the other do in giving them the
same. According to that in Matt. x., saying, Into what city or town
soever ye shall enter, inquire out those that be of good report in
the same, and abide you with them so long as you tarry in the same
city or town. Your host, with whom ye lodge, ought to be chosen by
the good report of neighbours, lest your preaching be evil spoken of
by reason of his infamy. Neither ought such men to run from house to
house. Butwhom shall we call worthy of good report? Him who knoweth
better to do other men good, than to receive a good turn of another.
And this is he which giveth willingly for Christ's cause, and not in
respect of any commodity. Also true apostles receive nothing of such
men as lie weltering in their sins, but rather of those that are
washed and cleansed from their sins; whereupon 2 Cor. vii., They have
given themselves first to the Lord; because they now, amending their
old errors and vicious manners, have vowed themselves unto the Lord,
and afterward gave of that which they had to their brethren; for
otherwise they ought not to have taken any thing of them, because
gifts do blind the eyes: but those that give where there is no cause
of reproof in their doings have just cause to give. Therefore those
preachers that seek how to come by dainty fare, and do receive bribes
and rewards of naughty men that have this world at will, to the
intent that those preachers may cover and hide their faults, and get
of others what they can by subtlety, which give indeed to remove the
shameless importunity of the craver, or else for avoiding of present
shame, rather than for any love they have to God, are not true
apostles, but false prophets, according to that in 2 Cor. ix., The
Lord doth love a willing giver. He that giveth for present shame, or
else for that he may be free from the importunity of him that asketh,
doth lose his substance and merit; wherefore he that hath respect to
these things doth not seek the fruit and profit of the giver, but the
gift itself; as the apostle to the Philippians, chap. iv., saith,
Seek not the gift, but the fruit or benefit of the giver.

The twenty-seventh sign is, that true apostles do not endeavour
themselves to seek and enjoy the fruit of other men's labours that
they may be fed thereby, because that the belly is such men's god,
according to that in 2 Thess. We have heard of some amongst you which
walk inordinately, not labouring at all, but living delicately or
idly; of other men's labours; and deserve they to be fed? The
discipline of the Lord cannot away with that doing; for the belly is
their god which provide to have more than necessary dishes of meat.
Therefore those preachers which so do are no true apostles, but
false.

The twenty-eighth sign is, that true apostles do not rejoice only of
the miracles or other excellent works which the Lord doth by them;
but they rejoice rather of the salvation which they look for from the
Lord, than that by doing those miracles they desire any honour;
according to that which is written in Luke x., saying, Rejoice ye not
for that the spirits be subject unto you, but because your names are
registered in heaven. They, therefore, that boast of their own
miracles, or of any that belong unto them, for this cause, that they
are saved by the doing of them, as many do say, seem not to be true
apostles, but false.

The twenty-ninth sign is, that the true apostles do never seek their
own glory in this life, but the glory of Christ; as in John vii., He
that speaketh of himself doth seek his own glory, but he that seeketh
the glory of him which sent him (that is, of whom he is sent) is a
true apostle. Therefore those which seek the things that pertain to
the glory of this world, of the which one is to be assistant to those
that bear rule and authority, according to that saying of Boetius, De
Consolatione, Those that do desire to be extolled, either they reign
and bear rule themselves, or else do desire to be near about them
that have such dominion. Another is, they desire to have the fame and
victory of that which they have nothing at all deserved before God.
Whereupon is written that saying of the apostle, in Gal. v., Let not
us become desirous of vain-glory. To be desirous of vain-glory is to
have victory without any merit or desert; and those, I say, that do
such things, seem not to be true apostles, but false.

The thirtieth sign is, that true apostles care not for the
solemnities of men, neither their salutations, nor feastings, nor any
other benefit of theirs. They therefore which love and seek the
company and fellowship of men, their feastings, and other their
commodities, do not seem to be true apostles, but false.

The thirty-first sign is, that true apostles do not commonly resort
to other men's tables, lest that they should for a meal's meat become
flatterers, as in 2 Thess. iii., That we should give an example to
follow us. He that cometh oftentimes to another man's table, being
given to idleness, cannot choose to flatter him which feedeth him;
but Christ's religion calleth men to liberty, and to no such bondage;
they therefore that resort oftentimes, and that of their own minds,
to other men's tables, (living idly,) are not true apostles, but
false.

The thirty-second sign is, that true apostles do not hate their
enemies, and such as hate them; which doctrine the Lord taught, Matt.
v., saying, Love your enemies, do well to them which hate you; but
false prophets do hurt and defame their neighbours, according as
Jeremiah saith, chap. xiv., The prophets of Jerusalem have defiled
the whole earth. They are not contented to hurt their neighbours
only, but also whom they before this time have hated they defame and
speak evil of in every place they come; therefore those preachers
which hate them whom they think are their enemies, and do defame
them, are not true apostles, but false preachers.

The thirty-third sign is, that false prophets, when they are examined
and proved whether they be true apostles or liars, take that very
grievously, and persecute all those that can prove them to be so, and
also do stir up and provoke others to persecute the same men, which
also join themselves together by secular power, even as certain false
prophets did in the primitive church against the bishop of Ephesus,
to whom the Lord said, Apoc. ii, I know, that is to say, I do allow,
thy works and thy labour, that is, thy tribulation, because thou
canst not away with those that be evil men; but that thou hast a
desire to amend them, or else to expel them, and hast examined those
which say that they are apostles, and are but liars, and also hast
suffered this patiently. The evils which these false prophets, joined
together by secular power, do bring in, are not the doings of true
apostles, but false prophets.

The thirty-fourth sign is, that true apostles go not to preach to
those which are converted already by other men, but rather do convert
those which are not yet converted, lest that they should build upon
another man's foundation, as St. Paul, Rom. xv., saith, I have
laboured so, that from Jerusalem to Illyricus I have replenished the
gospel in every place; that is, I have preached the same abundantly,
in whom the great virtue of the Holy Ghost appeareth, because so many
nations, that is, the Gentiles, have received the gospel by me
preaching. But I have preached the gospel there where Christ was not
preached before, lest I should build, upon another man's foundation.
I should not preach to those that were converted by another man. Also
2 Cor. x., We are not such as boast and glory in other men's labours;
where another man laid the foundation, for that should be to boast
inordinately. Also in the same place, Not thinking to boast where
another man hath government, but in those things which are put in
experience. Of other preachers; because the apostle did preach to
those to whom the gospel was never preached, that he might get praise
by his own proper labour. Therefore those preachers which go not to
that people which have need to be converted, but to those which are
converted already, which have apostles of their own, that is to say,
bishops and priests, and yet do boast over another man's flock, are
not true apostles, but false prophets.

The thirty-fifth sign is, because true apostles, when they are sent,
go to their own diocess, and not to another man's diocess, even as
Paul, being sent, went to the Gentiles when he purposed to preach:
Acts xiii., Separate Paul and Barnabas for the business which I have
chosen them unto. According to the appointment and decree of James,
Cephas, and John, went he forth to be a teacher unto the Gentiles.
But those preachers that stand upon their feet, that is to say, those
preachers which have but small worldly substance, for which cause
they are more ready to go which way soever it shall please the Lord
to send them, I say, the Lord hath sent them to preach, not to those
which be sufficiently learned, but to those that are infidels, as we
read in Ezek. ii., After that the spirit of the Lord set Ezekiel upon
his feet, and he said unto him, O son of man, behold, I send thee to
the nations which which have start back from their profession, which
have gone from me; that is, to the Jewish heretics, and to those
nations which sometime have been Christians, as the Egyptians, the
Babylonians, and all those that observe the law of Mahomet.
Therefore, if such go to those that are already instructed, having
both apostles, bishops, and priests of their own, they go not into
their own diocess, but into another man's diocess, and are not true
apostles, but false preachers. And it is greatly to be feared, lest
the church be in hazard and danger by such, unless they be thrust out
of the same betime; even as Jonas, when he was sent to Nineveh of the
Lord, which is interpreted large or wide, and leadeth to the hill,
that is, to the infidels we spake of before: They go not to those
infidels, according to the commandment of the Lord, but they turn
another way, take their journey into Tarshish, which is interpreted,
seeking after joy and pleasure; that is, they go unto those which
receive them with joy and gladness, and do well provide for them,
that is to say, to godly and devout Christians; and therefore it is
to be feared, lest the ship in which they be (that is, the church) be
in great peril, unless they be thrown forth. And therefore the
apostle spake of such false prophets not without good cause, 2 Tim.
And shun thou those; that is, such men as those be.

The thirty-sixth sign is, because true apostles do not boast, neither
do they attribute unto themselves any other thing, but in that God
hath wrought the same by them. Paul, Rom. xv., saith, I dare not say
any thing but that which Christ hath wrought and accomplished by me;
that is, I speak only those things which by me, that is, by my
ministry, Christ hath wrought. They therefore that boast of many
things, and do attribute much unto themselves which they never did,
are not true apostles, but false prophets.

The thirty-seventh sign is, that true apostles do not apply
themselves or lean at logical or philosophical reasons. Therefore
those preachers which do endeavour themselves to such kind of
reasons, are not true apostles, but false prophets.

The thirty-eighth sign is, that true apostles do not love carnally or
after the flesh, but hate what thing soever doth resist them in the
service of God; as Luke xiv., He that doth not hate his father and
mother, his son, and sister, and also himself, he cannot be my
disciple; that is, he that doth not hate whatsoever doth resist or
let him in the service of God, is not worthy to be a disciple,
neither can he abide in that office. Therefore forasmuch as true
preachers are the true disciples of the Lord, it must needs follow
that those preachers which do promote their nephews and kinsfolk, how
unworthy soever they be, to ecclesiastical promotions and livings,
contrary to the will of God, or do any other thing that letteth or
hindereth them in the service of God, are not true apostles, but
false prophets.

The thirty-ninth sign is, that true apostles do not hunt for the
friendship of this world, for he that is the friend of this world is
the enemy of God; therefore those preachers which purchase the
friendship of this world are not true apostles, but false prophets.
Therefore forasmuch as the Scripture is infallible, as in the twenty-
fourth chapter of Matthew, saying, Heaven and earth shall perish, but
my words shall endure for ever; and the Holy Ghost which spake in the
apostles cannot lie; for prophecy (for the most part) is not spoken
by the will of man, but the holy men of God spake by the inspiration
of the Holy Ghost, as it is read in the First Epistle of Peter, the
first chapter; it remaineth that all men which are bound to defend
the church may rise up in the defence of the same, according unto
that in the twenty-fourth chapter of Proverbs, Deliver those that are
led to death, and cease thou not to rescue those which are drawn to
destruction. Neither may he allege vain accusations, because it is
said in the same place, If he say he is not able or strong enough, he
that beholdeth the thoughts of men's hearts shall know it, &c.
Whatsoever perisheth in the church of God for want of preachers, all
that shall be demanded of them in the day of judgment; as Jacob
confesseth to Laban, whose sheep he fed, Gen. xxxi., I did restore
all the loss, and that which was stolen I made answer for. I will
demand his blood at thy hands, Ezek. iii. This is said to the pastor
or prelate. But if the other things which we have spoken of before
could not move the prelates and cardinals, this at the least should
move them; because that then the spiritual power, which doth consist
for the most part in the exercise of preaching, in hearing
confessions, and enjoining of penance, shall be taken away from them
by little and little, for by piecemeal doth the wolf devour the poor
and needy man; quest. 3. chap. 1. When the authority ecclesiastical
therefore shall be quite taken from them, and disposed to others,
such as either by their order or apostolical grant do challenge to
have the same, then doubtless shall neither the jurisdiction of civil
causes and pleadings, nor any authority that such prelates have yet
remaining, neither yet the possessions of the temporal goods of the
church, any longer remain amongst them. Shall such have the temporal
goods of the church which minister not the spiritual treasure
thereof? 1 Cor. ix., Know ye not that they which kill the sacrifice
ought to eat of the sacrifice? and they that serve at the altar are
partakers of the altar? For as the body without the soul cannot
stand; so corporal things without spiritual things cannot continue,
1. q. 1, if any shall take away the same. Thus have you had the
thirty-nine arguments, for the which both he, the said Gulielmus, was
condemned and his books burned.

In the days of this Gulielmus there was a most detestable and
blasphemous book set forth by the friars, which they called, The
everlasting Gospel, or the Gospel of the Holy Ghost. In which book
many abominable errors of the friars were contained, so that the
gospel of Jesus Christ was utterly defaced, which, this book said,
was not to be compared with this everlasting gospel, no more than the
shell is to be compared with the kernel, than darkness to light, &c.
Moreover, that the gospel of Christ shall be preached no longer but
fifty years, and then this everlasting gospel should rule the church,
&c. Item, that whatsoever was in the whole Bible was in the said
gospel contained. At length this friars' gospel was accused to the
pope, and so six persons chosen of the whole university to peruse and
judge of the book; as Christianus Canonicus Balvacensis, Odo de
Doaco, Nicolaus de Baro, Johannes de Sicca Villa Anglus, Johannes
Belim a Gaul. Among whom this Gulielmus was one, who mightily
impugned this pestiferous and devilish book. These six, after the
perusing of the book, were sent up to Rome. The friars likewise sent
their messengers withal, where they were refuted, and the errors of
the book condemned; but so that the pope with the cardinals commanded
the said book to be abolished and condemned not publicly, (tendering
the estimation of the religious orders, as of his own most chief
champions,) but that they should be burned in secret wise, and the
books of the foresaid Gulielmus to be burned withal.

Besides other his books, two sermons we have of his yet remaining;
one upon the Gospel of St. Luke, of the Pharisee and the publican,
the other upon the Epistle read in the church on May-day; where, in
the first he resembleth the Pharisees to our monks, and that he
proveth by all the properties of the Pharisees described in the
gospel. The publican he resembled to the laity, such as because the
sooner they are reduced to acknowledge their sins, the more hope they
have of mercy. The other, because they stand confident in their own
righteousness, are therefore further from their justification. In the
latter sermon he setteth forth and declareth what perils and dangers
be like to fall upon the church by these religious orders of monks
and friars.

Among the other besides of that age, which withstood the bishop of
Rome and his antichristian errors, was one Lawrence, an Englishman,
and master of Paris; another was Petrus Johannes, a Minorite. Of whom
the foresaid Lawrence was about the year of our Lord 1260, who in his
teaching, preaching, and writing did stoutly defend the part of the
aforesaid Gulielmus and the rest of his side against the friars.
Against the which friars he wrote two books; one in the defence of
William aforementioned; the other upon this argument and title, To
beware of false prophets, &c. Certain other things also he wrote,
wherein by divers proofs and testimonies he argued and proved that
antichrist was nor far off to come.

The other, Petrus Johannes, was about the year of our Lord 1290,
which taught and maintained many things against the pope, proving
that he was antichrist, and that the synagogue of Rome was great
Babylon. He wrote upon Matthew, upon the Epistles, and upon the
Apocalypse. Mention of this Petrus Johannes is made in Nicolaus
Emeritus, in libr. Inquisitionum, &c. And he saith moreover, that 
Michael Cesenas (of whom, Christ willing, shall follow hereafter)
took of him a great part of his opinions; and because the pope could
not burn him alive, after his death he caused his bones to be taken
up and burned.

To these, and with these above specified, is to be added Robertus
Gallus, who being born of a right noble parentage, for devotion sake
was made a Dominic friar, about the same year of our Lord above
touched, A.D. 1290. This man, as appeareth by his writing, had divers
and sundry visions, whereof part is annexed with the visions and
prophecy of Hildegardis. His visions all tend against the
spirituality of Rome, where in the first chapter he calleth plainly
the pope an idol, which having eyes seeth not, neither lusteth to see
the abominations of his people, nor the excessive enormity of their
voluptuousness, but only to see to the heaping up of his own
treasure; and having a mouth speaketh not, but saith, I have set good
men over them (which is sufficient for me) to do them good, either by
myself or by some other. And it followeth in the same chapter, Woe to
that idol! woe to the mighty and proud! Who shall be equal in all the
earth to that idol? He that exalted up his name in earth, saying, Who
shall bring me under? Is not my house compared with the mighty
potentates of the land? I am higher than dukes; knights on their
horseback do service unto me; that which my fathers had not before
me, that have I done to me. My house is strewed with silver; gold and
pearl are the pavement of my palace, &c.

Again in the twelfth chapter, and also in the first, under the name
of a serpent he painteth out the pope, whom he declareth to extol
himself above measure, and to oppress the few that be godly, and to
have many false prophets about him, which, neglecting the word and
name of Christ, do preach and extol him only, obscuring the name of
Christ. The Church of Rome and the pope he describeth in these words:
I was praying (said he) on my knees, looking upward to heaven near to
the altar of St. James in Paris, on the right side of the altar, and
saw in the air before me the body of a certain high bishop all
clothed in white silk, who, turning his back on the east, lift up his
hand towards the west, as the priests are wont in their mass, turning
to the people, but his head was not seen. And as I was considering
advisedly, whether he had any head or no, I perceived a certain head
in him all dry, lean, and withered, as though it had been a head of
wood. And the Spirit of the Lord said to me, This signifieth the
state of the Church of Rome.

Moreover, the same author in his visions, well describing the manner
of the school sophisters and Sorbonists, addeth in this wise: Another
day, as I was in like contemplation as before, I beheld in spirit,
and, behold, I saw a man apparelled like to the other before, which
went about having fine bread and excellent wine that hanged about him
on both sides; and the same, having in his hand a long and a hard
flintstone, was gnawing hungerly upon the same, as one being hungry
is wont to bite upon a loaf of bread; out of which stone came two
heads of two serpents, the Spirit of the Lord instructing me, and
saying, This stone purporteth the frivolous, intricate, and curious
questions, wherein the hungry do travail and labour, leaving the
substantial food of their souls. And I asked what these two heads did
mean. And he said, The name of the one is vain-glory, the name of the
other is the marring and dissipating of religion.

Also concerning reformation of the church, this vision he declareth:
It happened as I was (saith he) in the same city in the house of a
certain nobleman,a Briton, and was there speaking with certain, I saw
a cross of silver very bright, much like to the cross of the earl of
Toulouse. But the twelve apples which did hang beside in the arms of
the cross were very vile, like the apples which the sea is wont to
cast up. And I said, What is this, Lord Jesus? And the Spirit
answered me, This cross which thou seest is the church, which shall
be clear and bright in pureness of life, and shall be heard and known
all over through the shrill voice of the preaching of sincere verity.
Then, being troubled with the apples, I asked what these apples so
vile did signify. And he said, It is the humiliation of the church,
&c.

This godly man did forewarn (as in a certain chronicle is declared)
how God would punish the simony and avarice of the clergy with such a
plague, that rivers should run with blood, &c. It is said that there
is remaining a great volume of his visions which are not yet abroad,
for these that be abroad are but a brief extract out of his visions
and revelations.



61. ROBERT GROSTHEAD

After that we have thus long strayed in these foreign stories of
Frederic, and in the tractation of other matters pertaining to other
countries, now, after this sufficient digression, it is time that we
return to our own country again. Wherein, following the continuation
of time and course of the church, we will now adjoin to these good
fathers and writers the history of the learned bishop of Lincoln,
named Robert Grosthead, a man famously learned (as that time served)
in the three tongues, both Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, also in all
liberal sciences; whose works and sermons yet to this day are extant,
which I have seen in the queen's Majesty's library at 'Westminster.
Wherein is one special sermon written and exhibited in four sundry
scrolls to the pope, and to other four cardinals, beginning Dominus
noster Jesus Christus, &c. Nicolas Trivet, in his chronicle, writing
of this bishop, affirmeth that he was born in Suffolk, in the diocess
of Norfolk; who, giving him the praise to be a man of excellent
wisdom, of profound doctrine, and an example of all virtue,
witnesseth that he, being master of arts, wrote first a commentary In
Librum Posteriorum of Aristotle. Also that he wrote tractations, De
Sphæra, et de Arte Comput., and that he set forth divers books
concerning philosophy. Afterward, being doctor in divinity, and
expertly seen in all the three tongues, drew out sundry treatises out
of the Hebrew glosses, also translated divers works out of the Greek,
as namely, The Testament of the Twelve Patriarchs, and the books of
Dionysius, commenting upon the new translation with his own gloss.
Many other works and volumes besides were written by the said
Grosthead, besides divers epistles, sermons, and invectives sent to
the pope for his unmeasurable exactions, wherewith he overcharged and
oppressed the Church of England.

This godly and learned bishop, after divers conflicts and agonies
sustained against the bishop of Rome, after the example of Frederic,
Gallus, and others after named, at length after great labours and
travails of life finished his course, and departed at Bugden in the
month of October, A.D. 1253. Of his decease thus writeth Matth.
Paris, p. 278: Out of the prison and banishment of this world (which
he never loved) was taken the holy bishop of Lincoln, Robert, at his
manor of Bugden, in the even of St. Dionysius; who was an open
reprover of the pope and of the king, a rebuker of the prelates, a
corrector of the monks, a director of the priests, an instructor of
the clerks, a favourer of scholars, a preacher to the people, a
persecutor of the incontinent, a diligent searcher of the Scriptures,
a mall to the Romans, and a contemner of their doings. What a mall he
was to the Romans in the sequel hereof (Christ willing) shall better
appear. The story is this:

It so befell among other daily and intolerable exactions, wherein
Pope Innocent was grievous and injurious (manifold ways) to the realm
of England, he had a certain cousin or nephew, (so popes were wont to
call their sons,) named Frederic, being yet young and under years,
whom the said Innocent the pope would needs prefer to be a canon or
prebendary in the church of Lincoln, in this time of Robert, bishop
of the said church; and upon the same directed down letters to
certain his factors here in England for the execution thereof. The
copy of which letter by chance, yet not by chance, but by the
opportune sending of God, came to my hands, as I was penning this
present story, written in the end of an old parchment book, and
otherwise rare I suppose to be found; and it is this.

"Unto our beloved sons, the archdeacon of Canterbury, and to Master
Innocent, our scribe abiding in England, greeting and apostolical
benediction. Forsomuch as our well-beloved son G. of S. Eustace,
deacon cardinal, upon our special commandment hath given and granted
to our well-beloved son Frederic de Lauavia, a clerk and our nephew,
a canonship in the church of Lincoln, with full power and grant of
the same; investing him also corporally and presently with his own
ring in the said canonship, to be from henceforth canon of Lincoln,
and to have full power of the said canon-ship in the church, and a
prebend when any shall fall in the church of Lincoln; from that time
since which our former letters of late, concerning this receiving and
provision to be given to him in the said church, were presented and
exhibited to our reverend brother the bishop of Lincoln, or else
after the next avoiding the said prebendship to be reserved to the
apostolical donation, and to be given to him, making it void and
frustrate if the said prebendship shall be given to any other man
beside, and also denouncing the sentence of excommunication against
all them that shall rebel and gainsay the same, as in the letters of
the said cardinal is more fully contained.

"We therefore, graciously inclined by the devout supplication of the
said Frederic, ratifying and gratefully approving that which hath
been done by the said cardinal in the premises, we thought good by
the authority apostolical to confirm the same. Wherefore we give in
commandment by our letters apostolical to your wisdoms, that you will
see the said Frederic, or his proctor in his behalf, to be really and
corporally possessed in the said canonship or prebend by our
authority, and also defend the said party being therein possessed,
denouncing sentence of excommunication against all such as shall
withstand the same, all manner of customs or statutes to the contrary
notwithstanding, corroborated either with oath, or confirmations of
the see apostolic, or by what stay or let soever; or whether that the
said Frederic be not present to take the oath accustomed to be given
for observing the customs of the said church, or whether it be given
and granted by the said see to the foresaid bishop, or to the chapter
of the said church jointly and severally, or to what person or
persons else, that no man by compulsion should have admission or
provision for any person in their church whereby they cannot be
interdicted, suspended, or excommunicate by the letters apostolical
obtained, or to be obtained hereafter, under what form or words
soever; yea, although the whole tenor of the said indulgence be
inserted word for word in the said your letters, or by any other
indulgences to what person or persons soever, of what estate,
dignity, or place soever, under any manner or form of words, granted
hereafter by the see apostolic, by the which indulgences the effect
of the said provision may be by any manner of ways hindered or
deferred; yet of our certain knowledge we will that they shall want
their strength in the provision made or to be made for the said
Frederic in the church of Lincoln. And if any, upon the premises, or
any of them, shall allege against the foresaid Frederic, or his
procurator, that you will cause them to be cited on our behalf; so
that they, being cited peremptorily, shall within the space of two
months of your citation personally appear before us there according
to the law, to make answer to the said Frederic upon the premises,
any privileges or indulgences whatsoever given and granted, either
generally to the kingdom of England, or peculiarly to any other
person, of what state, degree, and place soever, granted by the
foresaid see, under whatsoever manner and form of words, for them not
to be called up beyond the see, or out of their own city or diocess,
by letters apostolical, under whatsoever form of words obtained, to
the contrary in any wise notwithstanding. All which privileges and
indulgences we will in no case shall stand in any force or effect to
the said parties. Moreover, the day and form of the citation we will
that ye faithfully do intimate unto us by your letters, containing
the tenor thereof; and if both of you cannot be present at the
execution hereof, yet we will notwithstanding that one of you do
execute the same without fail. Dated the 7th kal. February, the tenth
year of our popedom."

As there is no man which hath any eyes to see, but may easily
understand, in reading this letter of the pope, how unreasonable his
request is, how impudently he commandeth, how proudly he threateneth,
how wickedly he oppresseth and racketh the church of God, in placing
boys and strangers in the ministry and cure of souls, and also in
making them his provisoes, to ravin up the church goods; so is it no
great marvel if this godly bishop Robert Grosthead was offended
therewith; who in my mind deserveth herein a double commendation, not
only that he so wisely did discern error from sincerity and truth,
but also that he was so hardy and constant to stand to the defence
thereof against the pope, according as in this his answer to the pope
again may appear, as followeth.

The answer of Robert Grosthead.

"Salutem Pleaseth it your wisdom to understand, that I am not
disobedient to any the apostolic precepts, but both devoutly and
reverently with the natural affection of a son obey the same, and
also am an utter enemy to all those that resist such apostolic
precepts, as a child zealous of his father's honour. And truly I am
no less than bound thereunto by the precept and commandment of God.
For the apostolic precepts are none other, nor can be, than consonant
and uniform to the doctrine of the apostles, and of our Saviour
Christ, being the Master and Lord of all the apostles; whose type and 
person, specially in the consonant and uniform hierarchy of the
church, the lord pope seemeth to bear the same our Lord and Saviour
Jesus Christ, saying, 'Whosoever is not with me, the same is against
me. Therefore, against him neither is nor can be the most divine
sanctity of the see apostolical. The tenor then of your foresaid
apostolical letter is not consonant to true sanctity, but utterly
dissonant and disagreeing to the same. First, for that the clause of
this your letter, and many such other letters like, which clause
always ye so much do urge, (Non obstante,) induced and brought in
upon no necessity of any natural law to be observed, doth swarm and
flow with all inconstancy, boldness, pertinacy, impudency, lying, and
deceiving, and is also a sea of mistrust in giving credit to no man.
Which as it swarmeth with these, so in like manner with innumerable
other vices, which hang and depend upon the same; moving and
disturbing the purity of Christian religion and life agreeable to the
same, as also the public tranquillity of men. Moreover, next after
the sin of Lucifer, (which shall be in the latter time, to wit, of
antichrist, the child of perdition, whom the Lord shall destroy with
the breath of his mouth,) there is not, nor can be, any kind of sin
so repugnant and contrary to the doctrine of the apostles and Holy
Scripture, and to our Saviour Christ himself more hateful,
detestable, and abominable, than to destroy and kill men's souls, by
defrauding them of the mystery of the pastoral office, which by the
ministry of the pastoral cure ought to save and quicken the same.
Which sin, by most evident places of the Scripture, such men are
discerned and known to commit, which, being in the authority of the
pastoral dignity, do serve their own carnal desires and necessaries
with the benefit of the milk and wool of the sheep and flock of
Christ, and do not minister the same pastoral office and charge to
the benefit and salvation of those their sheep. The same therefore by
the testimony of the Scripture is not the administration of the
pastoral ministry, but the killing and destruction of the sheep. And
that these two kind of vices be most vile and wicked, (although after
a different sort,) and far exceeding all other kind of wickedness,
hereby it is manifest, for that the same are directly contrary to two
virtues most chiefly good (although differing in themselves) and
unlike together. For that is called most wicked which is contrary to
a thing most good. So much then as lieth in the offenders, the one of
their offences is directly against the Deity, which of himself is
always essentially and supernaturally good; the other is against the
deification and the image of God in man, which is not always, but by
the participation of God's lightsome grace, essentially and naturally
good. And forsomuch as in things being good the cause of good is
better than the effect; and like as again in evil things, the cause
of evil is worse than the effect of evil proceeding thereof; hereby
it is manifest, that the inducers of such wicked destroyers of God's
image and deification in the sheep of Christ (that is, the church of
God) are worse than those chief destroyers, to wit, Lucifer and
antichrist.

"And as in these degrees of wickedness how much more excellent such
be, who, having a great charge committed to them of God, (to
edification, and not to destruction,) the more are they bound to keep
away and exclude such wicked destroyers from the church of God; so
much is it also off that this holy seat apostolical, to whom the Lord
Jesus Christ hath given all manner of power, (to edification, as the
apostle saith, and not to destruction,) can command, or will go about
any such thing, urging unto so great wickedness, so odious,
detestable, and abominable to our Lord Jesus Christ, and also so
pernicious to mankind. For this should be a great defection,
corruption, and abuse of the said seat and fulness of power, and an
utter separation from the glorious throne of our Lord Jesus Christ,
and a near neighbourhood unto the two most principal princes of
darkness, sitting in the chair of pestilence, prepared to the pains
of hell. Neither can any man, which is subject and faithful to the
said see, and not cut away from the body of Christ, and from the said
holy see, with sincere and unspotted conscience obey such manner of
precepts and commandments, or whatsoever other attempts proceeding,
yea, though from the high order of angels themselves; but rather
ought of necessity with all their strength to withstand and rebel
against the same. Wherefore, my reverend lord, I, like an obedient
child, upon my bound duty of obedience and fidelity which I owe to
both the parents of this holy apostolic see, and partly for love of
unity in the body of Christ joined with the said see, do not obey,
but withstand and utterly rebel against these things in the said
letter contained, and especially which urge and tend to the foresaid
wickedness, so abominable to the Lord Jesus Christ, so repugnant to
the holiness of the holy apostolic see, and so contrary to the unity
of the catholic faith. Neither for this cause can your discretion
determine any extremity to me, because all my doing and gainsaying in
this matter is no resistance nor rebellion, but a childly obedience
to the Divine precept, and honour due both to Father and mother.
Briefly, therefore, repeating my words, I say that this holy
apostolic see cannot do any thing but to edification, and nothing at
all to destruction; for this is the fulness of power, to be able to
do all things to edification. But these which you call provisions be
not to edification, but to manifest destruction. The holy apostolic 
see, therefore, neither can nor ought to attempt any such thing,
because that flesh and blood, which cannot enter into the kingdom of
God, hath revealed the same, and not the Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ which is in heaven."

Then followeth it in the story both of Matth. Paris and of
Florilegus, that when this epistle came to the knowledge of the pope,
he, fuming and fretting with anger and indignation, answered with a
fierce look and proud mind, saying, What old doting, frantic wretch
is this, so boldly and rashly to judge of my doings? By sweet St.
Peter and Paul, were it not but that upon our own clemency and good
nature we are restrained, we should hurl him down to such confusion,
that we would make him a fable, a gazingstock, an example and
wonderment to all the world. For is not the king of England our
vassal? and, to say more, our maniple or page, (to use the very words
of mine author,) which may at our pleasure and beck both hamper him,
imprison him, and put him to utter shame? This when the pope in his
great fury and rage had uttered amongst his brethren the cardinals,
who were scarce able to appease the furious violence of the pope,
with mild moderation of words they said unto him, that it was not
expedient for them to proceed against that bishop in such rigorous
manner. For, said they, to confess the truth to your Holiness, it is
but very truth that he affirmeth, neither can we condemn him
therefore. He is a catholic man, yea, also a holy man, more holy and
also religious than we ourselves, a man of excellent wit and
excellent life, so as it is thought among all the prelates he hath
not his better, nor yet his like. This is not unknown both to the
French and English clergy universally, neither can our contradiction
prevail against him. The truth of this his epistle perhaps is known
now to many, and shall stir up many against us; for he hath the name
to be a great philosopher, and singularly seen in all the tongues,
both Greek, Latin, and Hebrew; zealous in justice, a reader of
divinity in the schools, a preacher amongst the people, a lover of
chastity, and a persecutor of simony. These words spake L. Giles, a
Spanish cardinal, to the pope, and others more, moved by their
conscience to speak. And this counsel they gave to the pope, that he
should dissemble and wink at these things, as one not seeing or
regarding them; lest otherwise, perhaps, some tumult might rise and
spring thereof; especially seeing this is manifest and known to all
men, that once must needs come a defection and parting from the
Church of Rome.

Not long after this, about the canicular days, this reverend and
godly Robert, bishop of Lincoln, lying at his manor place in Bugden,
fell grievously sick; and thereupon within few days departed. In the
time of his sickness he called to him a certain friar of the
Preaching order, named M. John Giles, a man expert and cunning both
in physic and divinity, partly to receive of him some comfort of his
body, and partly to confer with him in spiritual matters. Thus upon a
certain day the said bishop, conferring with the foresaid M. John,
and reciting to him the doings and proceedings of the pope, did
grievously rebuke and reprehend his fellow brethren the Preaching
friars, and the other order also of the Minorites; that forsomuch as
their order being planted in wilful poverty of the spirit, to the
intent they should more freely carp and reprove the vices of the
mighty, and not to flatter or spare them, but sharply to rebuke and
reprehend the same; the said friars, contrary to their profession,
did not boldly enough cry out and inveigh against the abuses of their
superiors and men of power; nor did uncover nor detect their faults
and wickedness; and therefore, said the bishop, I judge them to be no
better than manifest heretics. And he addeth moreover, (demanding of
M. John,) what is heresy? and that he should give him the true
definition thereof. Whereat when the friar did stay and pause, not
remembering the solemn definition of that matter, the bishop
thereupon inferreth, giving this definition in Latin by the true
interpretation of the Greek word: Heresy is a sentence taken and
chosen of man's own brain, contrary to Holy Scripture, openly
maintained, and stiffly defended. And this definition given,
consequently he inferred, sharply reprehending the prelates of the
church, but especially the Romans, which commit the charge of souls
unto their kinfolks, being both in age unworthy, and in learning
insufficient. To give, saith he, the charge of souls unto a boy is a
sentence of a prelate chosen and taken of man's own head, only for
carnal and earthly respect, and also is contrary to Holy Scripture,
the which forbiddeth any such to be made ministers or pastors which
are not sufficient to drive away the wolves. And moreover it is also
openly maintained, because it is manifestly borne abroad and
commanded with charts imbulled both with wax and lead; and finally, 
it is stiffly defended. For if any man shall dare to presume to
withstand the same, he is suspended and excommunicated, and open war
cried out against him: therefore to whom the whole definition of a
heretic doth agree, be is a very heretic. But every faithful
Christian man ought to set himself against a heretic as much as he
may. Wherefore, he that can resist him, and doth not, he sinneth, and
seemeth to be a fautor thereof, according to the saying of Gregory,
He lacketh not conscience of secret society which ceaseth to resist
open impiety. But the friars, both Franciscans and Dominics, are most
chiefly bound to withstand such, seeing both of them have the gift of
preaching committed to them by their office, and be more apt to the
said office by reason of their poverty; and therefore they do not
only offend in not resisting such, but also are to be counted
maintainers of the same, according to the sentence of the apostle to
the Romans, saying, Not only they which commit such things, but also
they that consent, are worthy of death. Wherefore it may be
concluded, that as well the pope, unless he cease from that vice, as
also the same friars, unless they show themselves more earnest and
studious in repelling the same, are both worthy of death, that is,
perpetual damnation. Item, saith the canon decretal, that upon this
vice of heresy the pope both may and ought to be accused.

After this, the vehemency of his disease more and more increasing,
and because the nights were somewhat longer, the third night before
his departure, the bishop, feeling his infirmity to grow upon, willed
certain of his clergy to be called to him, thereby to be refreshed
with some conference or communication. Unto whom the bishop mourning
and lamenting in his mind for the loss of souls, through the avarice
of the pope's court, said on this wise, as by certain aphorisms.

1. Christ came into the world to save and win souls; therefore he
that feareth not to destroy souls, may he not worthily be counted
antichrist?

2. The Lord created the whole world in six days, but in restoring of
man he laboured more than thirty years. Wherefore he that is a
destroyer of that about which the Lord so long laboured, is not he
worthy to be counted the enemy of God, and antichrist?

3. The pope shameth not impudently to annihilate and disannul the
privileges of his holy predecessors of Roman bishops, by this
obstacle, (Non obstante,) which is not done without the prejudice and
manifest injury of them. For in so doing he doth reprove and destroy
that which so many and so holy men have builded up before, and thus
seemeth he to be, a contemner of the saints. Worthily therefore he
that contemneth shall be contemned, according to the saying of
Isaiah, Woe to thee that doth despise! for shalt not thou thyself be
despised? And who shall keep his privileges, which so breaketh the
privileges of others?

4. The pope answering thereunto thus defendeth perhaps his error: He
that is equal hath no superiority over his equal; therefore no pope
hath power to bind me, being pope as well as he. To this answer again
quoth the bishop, It seemeth to me that he that now presently is
sailing in the dangerous seas of this world, and he that is safely
arrived in the haven, having passed all jeopardies, are not both like
and equal. Grant that some popes be saved (God forbid any should say
contrary); then saith our Saviour, He that is least in the kingdom of
heaven is greater than John Baptist, a greater than whom did never
rise amongst the children of men. Is not therefore some pope greater,
being a giver and confirmer of privileges, than this that is alive?
Truly, methinks, he is greater, therefore he hath dominion over his
inferior.

5. Doth not the pope thus say, speaking of all his predecessors for
the most part, This our predecessor, and this our predecessor, of
most worthy memory, &c.? And again, We (saith he) cleaving, or
following the steps of our predecessors, &c. And why then do such
popes as come after destroy these foundations which their
predecessors have laid?

6. Many apostolic men coming after have confirmed some privilege
being granted by others before; and be not many bishops, being
already saved by the grace of God, to be counted greater and better
than one bishop, which hath not yet attained, but standeth in danger
to obtain that which the other have got already?

7. Also other former fathers and bishops of the apostolical see, in
preferment of time, go before the others which in time come after.
And those whom the estimation of ancient time doth advance, such are
we bound to esteem and to have in more reverence. This did the holy
man Benedict well consider, who in his rule preferreth such as came
first in time, whatsoever men they were before them which (albeit
being more ancient in years) came after them into the order, and
commandeth them to be their superiors, and to have the pre-eminence.
Which being so, (as it is true and certain,) how cometh then this
injurious and rash presumption, which dare repeal and disannul the
old privileges of many ancient holy bishops, in time and in reverence
going before them?

8. Moreover, and though many popes have been grievous to the church,
yet this pope most specially hath brought it most into servitude, and
manifold ways hath damnified the same. For these Caursini, these open
usurers, whom our holy forefathers and doctors, whom we have seen,
and namely, our learned master in France, preacher; also the abbot of
Flay, a Cistercian, Master Jacobus de Veteri, and Master Stephen,
archbishop of Canterbury, in the time of his banishment, and also
Master Robert Curcun, with his preaching banished out of France; for
before that time these kind of usurers werenever known in England;
the same Caursini, these wicked usurers, I say, were by this pope
induced, supported, and maintained; so that if any do speak against
them, he is miserably tossed and trounced for his labour, whereof
partly Roger, bishop of London, hath some experience.

9. The world doth know that usury is counted a detestable thing in
both the Testaments, and is forbidden of God. But now the pope's
usurers or exchangers, the very Jews crying out against them, being
openly suffered in London to exercise their usury, to the great
damage and detriment of all ecclesiastical persons, but especially
houses of religion, compelling such as be in poverty to counterfeit
and to put to their seals to forged writings, which is no less than
to commit idolatry and to abrenounce the verity, which is God
himself. As, for example, I borrow a hundred marks for a year instead
of a hundred pounds; I am compelled to make my writing, and to seal
the same, confessing that I have received and borrowed one hundred
pounds, to be repaid again at the year's end to such a man, &c. And
if it shall chance that your occupying be such, that within a month
you bring again the principal to the pope's usurer, he will receive
no less notwithstanding than his full hundred pounds; which condition
of usury is much worse than that of the Jews. For to. the Jew what
principal you bring, he will require no more than proportionally for
the commensuration of so much time wherein his money hath been out of
his hands.

10. Moreover, we have seen and known the pope to have given in charge
and commandment to the friars, Preachers and Minorites, to inquire
diligently for such as lie sick and like to die; and so coming to
them diligently to persuade them to make their wills and testaments
favourably to the profit and subsidy of the Holy Land, and to take
the cross upon them, that if they do amend, they may wring them in
the law, and if they die, they may wrest the money from their
executors.

11. We have known likewise and seen men that have taken the vow and
sign of the cross upon them to be sold unto laymen, as sheep and oxen
were wont in time past to be sold in the temple.

We have seen with our eyes the pope's letter, in which we have found
this to be written; that they which bequeath any thing to the behoof
or subsidy of the Holy Land shall receive so much indulgence as they
have disbursed money.

12. Over and besides all this, the pope, in divers and sundry his
letters, hath willed and commanded prelates to receive into
ecclesiastical benefices, and to provide some such living in their
churches as shall be sufficient to such and such a stranger, (being
both absent and also unworthy,) which have neither learning, nor yet
the language of the country; whereby they are neither able to preach,
nor to hear confessions, nor to keep residence for to refresh the
poor and wayfarers.

13. Item, we know and have seen ourselves that the pope hath written
to the abbot of St. Albans, to provide for one called John de
Camezana, whom we never saw, some competent benefice. Whereupon, in
few days after, when provision was made for him in a certain church,
worth forty marks by the year and more, the party being not therewith
contented, complained to the pope; who then writing to the foresaid
abbot, commanded him to provide for the foresaid M. John some better
thing, reserving notwithstanding the gift of the former benefice to
himself.

14. Again, not long after came also to the house of the foresaid
abbot two other persons, like begging vagabonds, bringing with them
the pope's letters; in the tenor whereof the abbot was commanded,
that, immediately upon the sight thereof, he should give and disburse
to the said persons for the expedition and despatch of his affairs
ten marks in hand, without any delay or sticking; the which persons
uttering unto the abbot proud and threatening words, he was fain to
agree with them and send them away.

15. Item, of men which are both holy and well learned, which have
left the world for the following of God in such order as they ought
not to turn back again, the pope maketh his collectors and bankers to
get in his money; the which charge they are compelled against their
wills to take upon them, lest they should seem to be disobedient, and
so of spiritual men are made more secular than the most secular. And
so the baseness of their gowns or robes which they wear doth prove
them to be liars, whilst under the habit of poverty and humiliation
there lurketh the spirit of pride and elation. And because no legate
may be sent into England, but being first required of the king, the
pope sendeth sophistical legates, and such as be disguised and
counterfeit in apparel, and are guarded with great might and power,
neither is it hard to bring forth examples thereof; for so many such
daily do come into the realm, that, to hear the names of them
recited, it would be tedious for any man to hear.

16. Furthermore, (as we have seen ourselves,) the pope granteth for
secular favour, that a man may have a bishopric, and yet be no bishop
consecrated, elect for ever. Which is as much to signify to have the
milk and the wool of the sheep, and not to keep the wolves away from
the sheep; to retain the rents of a bishop, and not to discharge the
function of a bishop.

Afterwards he went about more to prosecute how the foresaid court,
like a gulf never satisfied, and ever gaping so wide, that the flood
of Jordan might run into his mouth, aspired how to usurp the goods of
them that die intestate, and of legacies bequeathed without form of
law; and whereby, more licentiously to bring this to pass, they used
to join the king to be fellow and partaker with them in their spoils,
extortions, and robbing. Neither, saith he, shall the church be
delivered from the servitude of Egypt but by violence and force, and
with the bloody sword. And albeit, saith he, these be yet but light
matters, yet shortly more great and grievous things than these shall
be seen.

And in the end of this his prophesying, which he scarcely could utter
without sighing, sobbing, and weeping, his tongue and breath began to
fail; and so, the organ of his voice being stopped, he made an end
both of his speech and life.

And forsomuch as mention hath been made before of the insatiable
avarice of the pope's court by his inordinate provisions and
reservations, it is testified by the said author, Matth. Paris, that
the foresaid Robert Grosthead, being bishop of Lincoln, caused to be
viewed and considered diligently of his clerks, what the revenues of
foreigners and strangers within England, sent in by the pope, came to
by the year; and it was found and evidently tried, that this pope now
present, Innocentius the Fourth, did impoverish the universal church
throughout Christendom more than all his predecessors from the time
the pope first began. So that the revenues of foreigners and clerks,
placed by him here in England, mounted unto the sum of threescore and
ten thousand marks and above; whereas the mere revenues of the crown
came not to thirty thousand.

Of this Robert Grosthead writeth Cestrensis, in his seventh book of
his history, that partly for that it grieved him to see the
intolerable exactions of the pope in this realm, and partly because
he refused to admit a certain young nephew of the pope to be canon of
his church, (as hath been before recited,) he therefore, writing unto
the pope, and signifying that he could not admit any such persons
into his church, which neither knew themselves nor the tongue of the
people, nor the charges committed unto them, was called up to Rome,
and there excommunicated, but then appealing from the pope, he
shortly after departed, which was in the year of our Lord 1253. It
chanced within two years after his decease, the said Pope Innocent,
being asleep, a certain bishop, appareled bishop-like, appeared unto
him, and striking him with his staff on the left side, said, Surge
miser, veni in judicium that is, Rise, wretch, and come to thy
judgment. The next day after the pope was found amazed, as a man
stricken on the side with the stroke of a staff. This Robert, though
he was greatly commended for his sanctimony, and, as Cestrens saith,
for his miracles; yet was he not permitted in the court of Rome to be
inscribed in the catalogue of saints. And thus much out of Cestrensis
concerning this matter. But Matthew Paris and the author of Flores
Historiarum, prosecuting this story more at large, addeth this more
unto it, and saith that Pope Innocent the next year following, which
was A.D. 1254, being passing angry, contrary to the mind of his
brethren the cardinals, would have the bones of the foresaid bishop
of Lincoln cast out of the church, and purposed to bring him into
such spite and hatred of the people, that he should be counted an
ethnic, a rebel, and disobedient person through the whole world. And
thereupon caused his letters to be written and sent down to the king
of England, knowing that the king would gladly serve him therein, to
have the spoil of the bishop and of his church. But in the night
following the said bishop of Lincoln appeared unto him as coming in
his pontificalibus, and with a severe countenance, stern look, and
terrible voice speaking unto him being in his rest, and smiting him
on the side with a vehement stroke with the end of his cross staff,
thus said: O thou scurvy, lazy, old, bald, wretched, doting pope,
hast thou purposed to cast my bones out of the church to the shame
and slander of me? How cometh this rash wilfulness in thy head? It
were more meet for thee, being thus advanced by God and honoured, to
make much of the zealous servants of God, although departed. The Lord
will not suffer thee henceforth to have any more power over me. I
have written unto thee in the spirit of humility and love, that thou
shouldst correct thy manifold errors; but thou with a proud eye and
disdainful heart hast despised my wholesome admonitions. Woe to thee
that despisest! shalt not thou also be despised? And so the bishop
departing from the pope, stricken, as is said, on the side, left him
for half dead, and so lying in sorrow and lamentation. Whereupon his
chamberlains being amazed, hearing these things, came running to the
pope to know what him ailed. To whom the pope, much troubled and
vexed, in spirit, said that great terrors in his sleep vehemently
disturbed and molested him, in such sort that he thought he should
never recover it, nor be restored to himself again. Oh (saith he) how
sore is my side, and how eagerly it vexeth me, as being run through
with a spear! Neither did the pope eat or drink all that day, but,
feigning himself to be sick of a burning ague, kept in. And yet the
indignation of the ireful hand of God (saith the story) so left him
not.

For after these wholesome admonitions given to him by the servant of
God, the pope, not regarding them, but all set upon war, suppression
of his enemies, and secular affairs, gave his mind wholly unto them;
and yet all his labours, counsels, and expenses bestowed upon them
could never prosper after that day in that he went about. For the
pope, the same time having war with the Apulians, all his army,
fighting under the pope's nephew their captain, were slain and
confounded to the number of many thousands; whose lamentable
slaughter all the country of the Romans, did much bewail. The pope,
not yet quiet in his mind, directeth his journey towards Naples,
although sore vexed in his side, like a man sick of a pleurisy, or
smitten rather with a spear, neither could any physic of his
cardinals help him. For Robert of Lincoln (saith the story) did not
spare him; and he that would not hear him gently correcting him being
alive, his stripes did he feel when he was dead; so that he never
after that enjoyed any lucky or prosperous day till the time of his
death, nor yet any prosperous or quiet night until the morning. And
so continued he unto his death, which shortly after ensued, at
Naples, A.D. 1255. And thus have ye the whole discourse between
Robert Grosthead and Pope Innocent.

In the which story is to be noted, gentle reader, that although in
the story of Cestrensis, of Matthew Paris, and of Flores Historiarum,
it is expressly testified and reported, that the pope was smitten
with the staff of Robert, the foresaid bishop of Lincoln; yet thou
must wisely understand, that howsoever God's hand dealeth here in
this world in punishing his enemies, or howsoever the image of things
not seen, but fantasied, offer themselves to the secret cogitation of
man, his senses being asleep, by the operation or permission of God,
working after some spiritual influence in our imaginations, certain
it is that no dead man materially can ever rise again or appear
before the judgment day to any man, with his staff or without his
staff, to work any feat, after he have once departed this life.

After the death of this Robert Grosthead, bishop of Lincoln, great
dissension fell between the archbishop of Canterbury, Boniface, and
the canons of the said church of Lincoln, about the right of giving
prebendships, and about the revenues of the said church, in time of
the bishop's see being now vacant. Which right and power the
archbishop claimed to himself, but the canons of that church,
maintaining the contrary side) stood against him, and for the same
were excommunicated of the archbishop. Among whom one Master Woolfe,
resisting the archbishop to the face, in the name of all the other
canons, made up his appeal to Rome, where much money on both sides
was spent. At length after this Grosthead was elected Henry Lexinton
in the see of Lincoln.



62. THE WICKEDNESS OF THE JEWS
(Illustration: Jews burnt at the stake )

About [this] time the wicked Jews at Lincoln had cruelly crucified,
whipped, and tormented a certain child named Hugo, of nine years of
age, A.D. 1255, in the month of August. At length the child being
sought and found by the mother, being cast in a pit, two and thirty
of those abominable Jews were put to execution. Whereof Matthew Paris
reciteth a long story. The same or like fact was also intended by the
like Jews at Norwich twenty years before upon a certain child, whom
they had first circumcised, and detained a whole year in custody,
intending to crucify him, for which the Jews were sent up to the
Tower of London, of whom eighteen were hanged, and the rest remained
long in prison. Of this wicked Jewish people I find also in the book
Flores Historiarum that about this year of our Lord, 1255, they began
first to be expelled out of France, by the commandment of the French
king, being then in Palestine, warring against the Turks; by the
occasion that it was objected then by the Turk against him and other
Christian princes, for the retaining the Jews amongst them, which did
crucify our Saviour, and warring against them which did not crucify
him. Of these Jews moreover King Henry the same year, 1255, exacted
to be given unto him eight thousand marks, in pain of hanging. Who,
being much grieved therewith, and complaining that the king went
about their destruction, desired leave to be given them of the king,
that they might depart the realm, never to return again. But the king
committed the doing of that matter unto Earl Richard, his brother, to
enforce them to pay the money, whether they would or no. Moreover of
the same Jews mention is made in the story entitled Eulogium. Of the
Jews in Northampton, who had among themselves prepared wild-fire, to
burn the city of London, for the which divers of them were taken, and
burned in the time of Lent, in the said city of Northampton, which
was two years before, about the year of our Lord 1253. And forasmuch
as mention here is made of the Jews, I cannot omit what some English
stories write of a certain Jew, who not long after this time, about
the year of our Lord 1257, fell into a privy at Tewkesbury upon a
sabbath day; which, for the great reverence he had to his holy
sabbath, would not suffer himself to be plucked out. And so Lord
Richard, earl of Gloucester, hearing thereof, would not suffer him to
be drawn out on Sunday for reverence of the holy day. And thus the
wretched superstitious Jew, remaining there till Monday, was found
dead in the dung.



63. OTHER EVENTS IN THE REIGN OF HENRY III

And to note the blind superstition of that time, not only among the
Jews, but also among the Christians; to omit divers other stories, as
of Walter Gray, archbishop of York, who coming up to the parliament
at London, A.D. 1255, with inordinate fasting did so overcharge
nature, and pined himself, and (as the story mentioneth) did so dry
up his brain, that he losing thereby all appetite of stomach, going
to Fulham, there within three days died, as in the compiler of Flores
Historiarum is both storied and reprehended. Let this also be
adjoined, which the forenamed author, and in the same year, is
recorded of one named Peter Chaceporce, who dying in France, A.D.
1255, left in bequest of his testament six hundred marks for lands to
be purchased to the house of Merton, for God to be served there
perpetually, for his soul's health, and all faithful souls; as who
would say, Christian faith were not the ordinary means sufficient to
salvation of faithful souls, without the quire service of the monks
of Merton.

Ye have heard it often complained of before, how the usurped power of
the pope hath violently and presumptuously encroached upon the Church
of England, in giving and conferring benefices and prebends to his
Italians and strangers, to the great damage and ruin of Christ's
flock manifold ways. This violent injury and oppression of the pope,
as by no lawful and gentle means it could be reformed, so by occasion
and means inordinate about this time it began somewhat to be bridled.
The matter whereof was this, as it is in the collector of Flores
Historiarum recited: In the year of the reign of this king forty and
four, the bishop of London, named Fulco, had given a certain prebend,
in the church of St. Paul, to one Master Rustand, the pope's
messenger here in England. Who entering into the profession of the
Grey Friars, and shortly after dying on the other side of the sea,
the pope immediately conferred the said prebend to one of his
specials, a like stranger as the other was before. About the same
instant it befell that the bishop also of London deceased, whereby
the bishopric now vacant fell into the king's hands; who, hearing of
the death of the forenamed Rustandus, gave the said prebendship,
given of the pope before, to one John Crakehale, his under treasurer,
whowith all solemnity took his installation, not knowing as yet that
it was bestowed of the pope before. It was not long after, as time
grew, but this being noised at Rome, forthwith cometh down a certain
proctor, named John Gras, with the pope's imbulled letters, to
receive the collation of the benefice by his commission procuratory
given by the pope, wherein John Crakehale had been already installed,
as is aforesaid, by the king's donation. This matter coming in
travise before Boniface, archbishop of Canterbury, he inquiring and
searching which donation was the first, and finding the pope's grant
to be the former, gave sentence with him against the king; so that in
conclusion the Roman clerk had the advantage of the benefice,
although the other had long enjoyed the possession thereof before.
Thus the pope's man being preferred, and the Englishman excluded,
after the party had been invested and stalled after the use and
manner, he thinking himself to be in sure possession of his place,
attempted with the rest to enter the chapter house, but was not
permitted so to do; whereupon the pope's clerk, giving place to force
and number, went toward the archbishop to complain. This being known, 
certain recluses pursued him; and he being so compassed about, one in
the thickness of the throng, being never after known, suddenly
rushing upon him, a little above his eyes so pareth off his head,
that he fell down dead; the same also was done to another of his
fellows in flying away. This heinous murder being famed abroad,
strait inquiry thereof was made, but the deed doer could not be
known; and although great suspicion was laid upon Crakehale, the
king's chaplain, yet no proof could be brought. But most men thought
that bloody fact to be done by certain ruffians or other light
persons about the city or the court, disdaining belike that the
Romans were so enriched with Englishmen's livings, by whom neither
came relief to any Englishmen, nor any godly instruction to the flock
of Christ. And therefore, because they saw the church and realm of
England in such subjection, and so much to be trodden down by the
Romans and the pope's messengers, they thought thereby something to
bridle, as with a snaffle, the pope's messengers from their
intemperate ranging into this land.

Here by the way is to be noted, that unto the death of this aforesaid
Fulco, bishop of London, continueth the history of Matthew Paris,
monk of St. Alban's, which was to the year of grace 1260. The residue
was continued by another monk of the same house, but not with such-
like commendation, worthy to make any authentic story, as I have seen
it noted in a written book.

It were too curious and tedious in order to prosecute what happened
in every year through this king's reign; as how it was provided by
the king, that whosoever could dispend fifteen pounds land by year
should be bound to make to the king a soldier; that watch should be
kept every night in cities; that whosoever was robbed, or otherwise
damnified, in any country, he that had the custody should be
compelled to make up the loss again, or else to pursue the
malefactor, which was A.D. 1253, witnessing Flores Historiarum. Item,
how the king, making his voyage into Gascony, his expenses were
reckoned to amount to two hundred and seventy thousand marks, besides
thirty thousand marks bestowed upon his brethren by the mother's
side, and besides other great gifts given abroad. By reason whereof
great taxes, and tolls, and tenths were required of his subjects;
especially of the churchmen, who, being wont to receive tithes of
others, now were constrained to give tithes to the laity, Flores
Historiarum, A.D. 1254. Item, how, in the year next following, the
Londoners offering one hundred pounds for a gift to the king, with a
precious cup of gold, at his return out of France, were shortly after
compelled by the king to pay three thousand marks for the escape of a
certain prisoner, being a clerk, condemned; which clerk being granted
of the king to the bishop, and he having no prison sufficient for
him, borrowed of the Londoners the prison of Newgate, to have him
kept in, who, escaping thereout, they, as is said, were demanded this
recompence aforesaid, A.D. 1255. Item, how the king, greatly
complaining of his debts the same year, required the whole tenths,
which should be gathered in three years, to be taken up all at once.
To whose request the nobles and commons agreed to strain themselves,
so that the charter of their liberties and customs might be ratified,
and fully by him confirmed; and so for that year they were, Flores
Historiarum. Item, how Pope Alexander the Third, to destroy the city
Michera, with King Manfred, the son of Frederic the emperor, sent
forth the same year Octavianus, his cardinal, with a puissant army;
who, coming to the city with his siege, through the counsel of
Marchisius, one of the chief captains, discharged a great part of his
host, whereby the most of the pope's army was slain and destroyed;
almost all, save only the family of Marchisius, A.D. 1255.

Many other things during the time of this king might be congested, as
the rising of Lewlinus, king of Wales, and of the Welchmen, against
the king, and wasting the land unto the town of Chester; who
destroyed divers of the Englishmen's horsemen taken in the marsh;
with whom at length they fell to agreement, by the means of
Octobonus,that his successors should be only called princes of Wales,
and should do the king his homage; and the king should receive of him
three thousand marks. And this, being established in writing, was
confirmed by the pope's seal, in the year of our Lord 1257.
About the same time such famine and lack of victuals oppressed the
land, that a load of corn was then sold for six and twenty shillings;
insomuch that the poorer sort was forced to eat nettle roots, thistle
roots, and whatsoever they could get; although some refer this to the
year 1262.

Hereunto, moreover, might be adjoined, how Pope Alexander, abusing
and mocking the king's simplicity, made him believe that he would
make his son Edmund king of Apulia, so that he would sustain the
charges and cost thereof, to maintain the war which thereto should
appertain. Whereby the king, cast in a sudden hope, caused his son
incontinently to be proclaimed king of Apulia; and upon the same sent
up to the pope all the riches he could well make in his realm. And
thus was the realm manifold ways miserably impoverished to enrich the
pope. About which season Richard, earl of Exeter, the king's brother,
was made king of Almaine by the electors.

Here might be showed, moreover, and added to the stories above, how,
the next year following, which was 1259, as Nicholas Trivet writeth,
the king, entering into France, required the restitution of such
lands in Normandy and Anjou as of old right were due unto him, and
wrongfully withholden from him. But the French king again alleged,
saying, that the country of Normandy by old time was not given away
from the crown of France, but usurped, and by force extorted by
Rollo, &c. In conclusion, the king, fearing and suspecting the hearts
of his nobles, and looking for none other but for rebellion at home,
durst not try with them, but was compelled to agree with them upon
such peace and conditions as he could get, which was this: That he
should have of the French king thirteen hundred thousand of Turin
pounds, with so much lands else as came to the value of twenty
thousand pounds in yearly rent; so should he resign fully and purely,
to the hands of the French king, all such lands and possessions which
he had in France. Whereby the king, giving over his style and titles
which he had in those parts, ceased then to be called duke of
Normandy, or earl of Anjou.

Albeit it be true that Gisburn writeth, that the king, afterward
repenting of his deed, did never receive the money in all his life,
neither did he cease during his life to entitle himself duke of
Normandy. But after him, his son Edward and his successors in their
style left out the title to be called duke of Normandy.

Besides many other matters omitted, here I overpass also the sore and
vehement conflict, not between the frogs and the mice which Homer
writeth of, but the mighty pitched field, fought in the year of our
Lord 1259, between the young students and scholars of the university
of Oxford, having no other occasion, as I read in Matth. Paris, but
only the diversity of the country where they were born. For the
northern men joining with the Welchmen, to try their manhood against
the southern part, fell both parts together in such a broil, with
their ensigns and warlike array, that in conclusion divers on both
sides were slain. This heavy and bloody conflict during and
increasing among them, the end was this, that the northern lads with
the Welch had the victory. After that fury and fiery fierceness had
done what it could, the victors bethinking at length with themselves,
partly what they had done, partly how it would be taken of the higher
powers, and fearing due punishment to fall upon them, especially
seeing the brother of Leolin, prince of Wales, and son of Griffin,
was newly dead in prison, drawing their counsel and helps together,
they offer to King Henry four thousand marks, to Edward his son three
hundred, and to the queen two hundred, to be released of their
trespass. But the king answering them again, that he set more price
by the life of one true subject than by all which by them was
offered, would in no wise receive their money. Ard so the students
without hope of peace went home with small triumph, learning what the
common proverb meaneth, Dulce bellum inexpertis. Notwithstanding, the
king being then occupied in great affairs and wars, partly with
Leolin and the Welchmen, partly inwrapped with discord at home with
his nobles, had no leisure to attend to the correction of these
university men, which was A.D. 1259. Likewise concerning the
dissension following the next year after in the university of Paris,
between the students there and the friars; the number of whom then
did so much increase, that the commons were scarcely able to sustain
them with their alms. Also between the universities both of Oxford
and Cambridge, for a certain prisoner taken out of prison by
strength, and brought into sanctuary the same year, as is testified
in Matthew Paris, A.D. 1259. In like manner touching the variance
between the archbishop of Canterbury and the chapter of Lincoln.
Again, between the said archbishop of Canterbury and the chapter and
bishop of London; and how the said bishop at his consecration would
not make his profession to the archbishop but with this exception,
Salvis jure et libertate ecclesiæ Londinensis, quæ pro posse meo
defendam in omnibus, &c., recorded in Flor. Hist. All which
wranglings and dissensions, with innumerable others reigning daily in
the church at those days, if I had so much leisure to prosecute them
as I find them in stories remaining, might sufficiently induce us to
understand what small peace and agreement was then joined with that
doctrine and religion in those days during the state and reign of
antichrist.

These, with many such other matters more, which here might be
discoursed and storied at large, being more foreign than
ecclesiastical, for brevity I do purposely contract and omit, cutting
off all such superfluities as may seem more curious to write upon,
than necessary to be known.



64. QUARREL OF KING HENRY III AND THE NOBLES

This that followeth, concerning the pitiful and turbulent commotion
between the king and the nobles, which lasted a long season, because
it is lamentable, and containeth much fruitful example, both for
princes and subjects, to behold and look upon, to see what mischief
and inconvenience groweth in commonwealths where study of mutual
concord lacketh, that is, where neither the prince regardeth the
offending of his subjects, and where the subjects forget the office
of Christian patience in suffering their princes' injuries by God's
wrath inflicted for their sins; therefore, in explaining the order
and story thereof, I thought it not unprofitable to occupy the reader
with a little more tarriance in perusing the full discourse of this
so lamentable a matter, and so pernicious to the public weal.

And first, to declare the occasions and first beginnings of this
tumult, here is to be understood, which before was signified, how
King Henry married with Eleanor, daughter of the earl of Provence, a
stranger, which was about the year of our Lord 1234, whereupon a
great door was open for strangers, not only to enter the land, but
also to replenish the court; to whom the king seemed more to incline
his favour, advancing them to more preferment, than his own natural
English lords, which thing was to them no little grievance. Moreover,
before was declared how the king by Isabella his mother, who was a
stranger, had divers brethren, whom he nourished up with great
livings and possessions, and large pensions of money, which was
another heartsore to divers, and also a hinderance. Over and besides
hath also been declared what unreasonable collections of money from
time to time, as quindecims, subsidies, tenths, mercements, fines,
payments, loans, and taxes, have been levied by the king, as well of
the spiritually as of the lay sort, partly for maintaining the king's
wars against Wales, against Scotland and France, to recover Normandy;
partly for helping the king's debts, voyages, and other expenses;
partly for the kingdom of Apulia, which was promised the king's son
by the pope; partly for moneying and supporting the pope in his wars
against the emperor. By reason of all which sundry and insupportable
collections the commonwealth of the realm was utterly excoriate, to
the great impoverishment of poor Englishmen. Neither did it a little
vex the people, to see the king call in so many legates from Rome
every year, which did nothing else but transport the English money
unto the pope's coffers. Besides all this, what variance and
altercation hath been between the king and his subjects about the
liberties of Magna Charta, and De Foresta, granted by King John, and
after confirmed by this king, in the former council holden at Oxford,
hath been before declared.

Perhaps this might be also some piece of a cause that the king,
considering and bearing in mind the old injuries done of the lords
and barons to his father King John before him, did bear some grudge
therefore, or some privy hatred unto the nobility, to revenge his
father's quarrel; but of things uncertain I have nothing certainly to
affirm. This is certain by truth of history, that the year next
ensuing, which was 1260, thus writeth Nic. Trivet, that the king's
justices, called itinerarii, being sent thither to execute their
office, were from thence repelled; the cause being alleged, for that
they were against the king in proceeding and enterprising against the
form of the provisions enacted and stablished a little before at the
town of Oxford.

In this year it pleased the king, after suit to him made, to license
a university or academical school to be planted in the town of
Northampton; and of a special favour which he pretended to bear, and
like enough did indeed, unto the scholars that went there to seat
themselves, and to prosecute the exercises of studies, wrote his
letters mandatory unto the chief officers and others of the said
borough in the said students' behalf; the tenor whereof followeth
agreeing with the record.

The king's letter to the mayor, bailiffs, and others the inhabitants
of Northampton, in the behalf of certain scholars minded to plant
themselves there as in a university.

"The king to his beloved and trusty the mayor, bailiffs, and other
honest men his subjects of Northampton, greeting. Whereas certain
masters and other scholars do purpose to tarry in your town
corporate, there to exercise scholarly discipline, as we hear; we
hereupon regarding the service of God, and the great profit of our
kingdom, taking in good part the coming thither of the said scholars,
and liking well their abode there, do will and grant that the said
scholars in the said town corporate, under our protection and
defence, do safely and securely abide, and there exercise and do such
things as to such scholars shall belong. And therefore we command
you, and straitly charge you, that when the said scholars shall come
unto you, to tarry in your said corporate town, you receive them
courteously, and as becometh the state of scholars use them, not
doing or suffering to be done unto them any impediment, molestation,
or grievance. In witness whereof we have caused these our letters
patents to be made. Witness the king at Windsor, the first day of
February, in the five and fortieth year of his reign."

It befell moreover in the same year, above other times, as Walter
Hemingford writeth, that a great number of aliens, coming out of
France and other provinces, resorted into England, and had here the
doing of all principal matters of the realm under the king; unto whom
the rewards, and reliefs, and other emoluments of the land did most
chiefly redound; which thing to see did not a little trouble and vex
the nobility and baronage of England. Insomuch that Simon Mountfort,
earl of Leicester, offering to stand to death for the liberties and
wealth of the realm, conferred together with other lords and barons
upon the matter, who then coming unto the king after a humble sort of
petition, declared unto him how all the doings of his realm, and his
own affairs, were altogether disposed by the hands and after the
wills of strangers, neither profitable unto him, nor to the weal
public; forasmuch as his treasures being wasted and consumed, he was
in a great debt, neither was able to satisfy the provision of his own
house, but driven to tally for his own cates, to no small dishonour
unto his own state. And now therefore, said they, pleaseth your
Highness to be informed by our advice, and to commit your house to
the guiding and government of your own faithful and natural subjects,
and we will take upon us to discharge your whole debt within one year
of our own proper goods and revenues, so that we within five years
may clear ourselves again. Neither will we diminish your family, but
rather increase it with a much greater retinue; providing so for the
safety and seeing to the custody of your royal person, as your
Highness shall find and understand our diligence most trusty and
faithful unto you in the end.

To these words so lovingly declared, so humbly pretended, so heartily
and freely offered, the king as willingly condescended, assigning
unto them both day and place where to confer and to deliberate
further upon the matter, which should be at Oxford the fifteenth day
after Easter. At which day and place all the states and lords, with
the bishops of the realm, were summoned to appear at the said town of
Oxford, for the behalf of the king and the realm convented together.
Where first of the king himself, then of the lords, an oath was
taken, that what decrees or laws in the said assembly should be
provided to the profit of the king and of the realm, the same
universally should be kept and observed to the honour of God, and
utility of his church, and wealth of the realm. Besides these lords
and the king, were also nine bishops, which, swearing unto the same,
did excommunicate all such as should withstand the said provisions
there made, the king holding a burning taper in his hand, and the
lords openly protesting to rise with all their force against all them
that shall stand against the same.

There were at that present in the realm four brethren of the king's,
(most part of them by the mother's side,) which would in no case
agree hereunto, but in anger departed privily unto Winchester. The
nobles hearing thereof, in all speedy wise pursued them, fearing lest
they should take the city of Winchester, and forcibly keep the same.
Wherefore the lords preventing their purpose, and seeing them stiffly
to persist in their stubborn sentence, wrought no other violence
against them, but, returning to Oxford again, prescribed to them
these conditions, that they, departing the realm, should repair to
their own lands and possessions, which they had beyond the sea, and
that forthwith they should put this injunction in execution.
Notwithstanding that the king made for them great intercession, yet
it took no place. And because this should seem to proceed of no
special displeasure against them, they enacted, moreover, that all
strangers, and aliens, of what state or condition soever, should
forthwith avoid the realm on pain of death. Divers other provisions
the same time were ordained and stablished, that if any did hold of
the king in whole or in part, and should chance to depart, (his heir
being under age,) the wardship of him should belong the king, as hath
partly before been specified.

Moreover, it was there decreed that the wool of England should be
wrought only within the realm, neither should it be transported out
to strangers.

Item, that no man should wear any cloth but which was wrought and
made only within the realm.

Item, that garments too sumptuous should not be brought in nor worn.

Item, that all excessive and prodigal expenses, wasted upon pleasure
and superfluity, should be eschewed of all persons.

Many other laws and decrees (saith the author) in this assembly were
ordained, wherein they continued the space of fifteen days, and many
of them were impoisoned, of whom was the abbot of Westminster, a man
in that order much commended. Also William, brother to the earl of
Gloucester. Also the earl himself, being impoisoned, hardly escaped
with life, his hair and nails falling off his body, whereof the
author not long after was taken, and duly executed at Winchester. In
the mean time, the nobles, considering those dangers and jeopardies,
were constrained to break off for that time, appointing the
fourteenth day of October next following to convent together at
London with weapon and harness, to prosecute and finish the residue
that was in the said council to be concluded. All which at the time
and place appointed was fully accomplished, and the acts thereof in
order of writing promulgated, and so committed to execution.

After the promulgation whereof many things therein displeased the
king, and it began to repent him of his oath. But because he could
not at that present otherwise choose, he dissembled for a season.
Thus time passing on, within a year following, which was in the year
of our Lord 1261, the king, seeing himself more and more to grow in
debt, and not to be relieved, according to promise,made, but
especially being egged (as may be thought) by his brethren, taking it 
to stomach, sent up to the pope both for him and his son Edward to be
released of their oath made before at Oxford. The benefit of which
absolution being easily obtained, (or rather bought at the pope's
hand,) the king, stepping back from all that was before concluded,
calleth another parliament at Oxford; where he before the lords and
nobles declared, how in the late council of Oxford they had agreed
among themselves, for the common utility of the realm and of the
king, as they pretended, for the increasing of his treasure, and his
debt to be diminished; and thereupon bound themselves with an oath,
causing also himself and his son Edward to be bound unto the same.
But now by experience proving and trying the matter to be otherwise
than their promise was, and that they, contrary to their covenant
made, sought not so much the profit of him and of the realm as their
own, taking him not as their lord, but going about to bring him under
their subjection as an underling; and for that moreover his treasure
greatly decreasing, his debts increased, and his princely liberality
was cut short and trodden under foot; they should not marvel
therefore if he henceforth would be no more ruled by their council,
but would provide himself of some other remedy, such as he might. And
moreover, as touching the oath wherewith he and his son stood bound
unto them, he had sent already to Rome, and had obtained absolution
and dispensation of the same, both for him and his son Edward also,
and for all others that would take his part. And therefore he
required of them to be restored again to that state and condition he
had enjoyed in times past.

To this again gave answer the state of nobility on the other side,
being in the same place present; in the number of whom was Simon
Mountfort, earl of Leicester, Richard Clare, earl of Gloucester,
Humphrey Ronne, earl Ferrence, with a great number of barons, as Lord
John Fitz-John, Lord Hastings, Lord Geoffrey Lucy, Lord John Vescy,
Lord William Segrave, Hugh Spenser, Lord Robert Vespoint, with divers
and many more; whose answer to the king again was this: That the
provisions made at the council at Oxford (whereunto they were sworn)
they would hold, defend, and maintain to their lives' end; forasmuch
as they did sound, and also were agreed upon, both to the honour of
God, to the profit of the prince, and stable wealth of the realm, &c.
And thus parts on both sides discording amongst themselves, they
would so have departed, had not certain of the bishops, coming
between both, laboured between them to take up the matter. By whose
means (saith Walter Gisburn) and procurement the determination of the
cause was brought in compromise, and referred to Louis, the French
king, to judge betwixt them, who, hearing both the allegations,
(saith he,) like no equal judge, but a partial friend, inclined
wholly and fully to the king's sentence, and condemned the nobles.
But the author of Flores Historiarum saith, that by the mediation of
discreet men two were chosen, one for one side, the other for the
other, to whom the third also was annexed, who, hearing as well what
was brought of the king's part, as also what was answered of the
other, should define between them both, and so peace was between them
concluded till the coming of Edward. All this while as yet the pope's
absolution for the king, although it was granted and obtained at
Rome, yet was it not brought down in solemn writing, neither was
Prince Edward as yet returned out of France into England.

At length the writing of the king's absolution being brought from
Rome, the king soon commanded the same to be published throughout the
realm, and sendeth to the French king and other strangers for help;
moreover, he seizeth all his castles into his own hand, rejecting the
counsel of the lords, to whose custody they were before committed;
also removing the former officers, as justices, and the chancellor,
with others placed afore by the lords, he appointed new in their
stead.

To this foresaid absolution, procured from Rome for the king and his,
son, Edward, returning out of France, at that time did not give his
consent, but held with the lords. Who then putting themselves in
arms, with a great power repaired up to London, keeping there in the
suburbs and places about, while the king kept within the Tower,
causing the city gates to be watched and locked, and all within the
said city, being above the age of twelve years, to be sworn unto him.
But at length, through the means of certain coming between, this
tumultuous perturbation was somewhat appeased, at least some hope of
peace appeared; so that the matter was taken up for that time without
war or bloodshed. Notwithstanding, some false pretended dissemblers
there were, which, secretly disclosing all the counsels and doings of
the lords unto the king, did all they could to hinder concord, and to
kindle debate. By the means of whom the purpose of the lords came not
to so good effect as otherwise it might.
In this year the archbishop of Canterbury, with his suffragans,
(after their wonted manner,) standing against the king, had made
their appeal to Rome; whereupon the king was fain to answer by proxy,
as appeareth by this brief note drawn out of record: "The king hath
appointed and made John Hemingford his proctor in a cause of appeal
which is moved in the court of Rome, between the king on the one
part, and the archbishop of Canterbury with his suffragans on the
other part, about certain ordinances, constitutions, and decrees
lately in a council provincial at London by them published, to the
prejudice of the king's right, his dignity royal, the liberties,
laws, and customs of his kingdom."

This matter no doubt was laboured very diligently by the said John
Hemingford, who was to that end authorized by the king to make his
abode at Rome, during the time that any manner of process was held
and maintained against him, to the impeaching of his royalty. Whereof
the king had a special regard, perceiving the waywardness of his own
clergy, or rather rebelliousness, in daring to decree and ordain laws
against him. And therefore he was the more careful to have all
matters depending in the court of Rome, concerning him and his, to be
earnestly followed. Inasmuch as he joined to the foresaid Hemingford,
in the charge of procuration, one Roger Lovell; unto which two,
residing at Rome, the king sent his letters, charging them so to
manage his affairs, as that nothing might pass to the derogation of
his royal title: the copy of the said letter followeth, agreeing with
the prototypon or original.

A letter of the king sent to his proctors at Rome, concerning a case
of his in the said court depending.

"The king to Master John of Hemingford, and Roger Lovell, his
proctors, pleading in the court of Rome, greeting. Forasmuch as upon
you our trusty and vowed servants, the defence of our right and
honour doth lie, and (as we hear) certain of our realm, pleading in
the court of Rome, do move divers matters to the prejudice of our
right and honour, presuming and intending to prevail against us, we
command you, and straitly charge you, that on our behalf you straitly
forbid all and every of them, that they presume not any further to
undertake such things as tend to the hurt of our majesty, and the
derogation of our honour, but wholly forbear so to do, as they will
avoid our indignation, and the peril of them and theirs. This
inhibition also we will by you all and every of you (so often as you
shall see needful) to be made known, and thereupon by you or some of
you to be certified of the contemners of the same. Witness the king
at Westminster the six and twentieth of March, in the six and
fortieth year of his reign."

In this present year also (as affirmeth the forenamed author) it was
rumoured abroad, (as Flores Historiarum reporteth,) that all the
bishops of England went about to recover again, out of the hands of
religious men, all such churches and benefices which were to them
impropriated or appropriated; and that they, for the expedition of
the same, had sent up to Rome both messengers and money, nothing
misdoubting to obtain their purpose. But as little good fruit in
those days used to spring out of that see, so I do not find that
godly suit and labour of the bishops to take any fruitful effect. The
same year died Pope Alexander, after whom succeeded Pope Urban the
Fourth.

Of the which Pope Urban the king also obtained, or rather revived, a
new releasement from his oath made to the provisions and statutes of
Oxford. Which being granted, he commandeth incontinently all the
foresaid laws and provisions through England to be dissolved and
broken. This done, the king with the queen taketh his voyage into
France, where he fell in great infirmity of sickness, and the most
part of his family was taken with the fever quartan, of which many
died. In the number of whom, besides others, died Richard, the worthy
earl of Gloucester and Hereford, after whom succeeded Gilbert Clare
his son.

The Welchmen this year, breaking into the borders of England, did
much annoyance in the lands of Roger Lord Mortimer; but mightily
again by him were expelled, not without great slaughter of the
invaders. About which time the king, through some discreet counsel
about him, inclined to peace and concord with his nobles, granting of
his mere voluntary will the constitutions and provisions of Oxford to
take place in the realm, directing his commandment to every shire.
Albeit the realm yet was not altogether pacified for all that.

In the latter end of this year, the king's palace at Westminster was
burnt, and for the most part was all consumed with fire, which seemed
to many an evil prognostication against the king.

In some English chronicles it is also recorded, that the same year
five hundred Jews at London were slain for taking usury more than
twopence a week for twenty shillings, being before forbidden by the
king to take above that rate by the week.

After this followeth the year 1263, in which the barons of England,
confederating themselves together, for maintaining the statutes and
laws of Oxford, and partly moved with old grudge conceived against
the strangers, (maintained by the king and the queen, and Edward
their son, in the realm of England,) joined powers in all forceable
wise, and first invaded the said strangers, namely, them which were
about the king. Their goods and manors they wasted and spoiled,
whether they were persons ecclesiastical or temporal. Among whom,
besides others, was Peter, a Burgundian, (bishop of Hereford, a rich
prelate,) with all his treasure apprehended and spoiled; also his
countrymen, whom he had placed to be canons of the same church. With
like order of handling other aliens also, to whom was committed the
custody of divers castles, as of Gloucester, of Worcester, of
Bridgenorth, were spoiled, imprisoned, and sent away. Briefly,
whatsoever he was in all the land that could not utter the English
tongue was of every rascal disdained, and happy if he might so
escape. By reason whereof it so came to pass, that a great number, as
well of other foreigners as especially religious men and rich
priests, (which here had gathered much substance,) were urged to that
extremity that they were glad to flee the land. In the catalogue of
whom was one most principal, named John Maunsell, a priest
notoriously grown in riches and treasures not to be told, having in
his hand so many and rich benefices, that near no bishop of this
realm might compare with him in riches. Who, notwithstanding he kept
with the king at London, yet was compelled privily to void the realm,
and was pursued by Henry, the son of Richard, king of Almaine.
Certain other strangers there were, to the number of two hundred and
more, which having the castle of Windsor, there immured and
intrenched themselves, to whom at length Prince Edward also adjoined 
himself.

In the mean time, while this stir was abroad, the king, keeping then
in the Tower, and seeing the greatest part of his nobles and commons
with the Londoners to be set against him, agreed to the peac eof the
barons, and was contented to assent again to the ordinances and
provisions of Oxford; albeit the queen by all means possible went
about to persuade the king not to assent thereto; who, as it seemed,
was a great worker in kindling this fire of discord between the king
and the barons. Insomuch that when as the said queen Eleanor should
pass by barge from the Tower to Windsor, the Londoners standing upon
the bridge, with their exclamations, cursing, and throwing of stones
and dirt at her, interrupted her course, causing her to return to the
Tower again. Notwithstanding, the peace yet continued with the nobles
and the king, the form whereof was this: First, that Henry, the son
of Richard, king of the Romans, should be delivered by the king and
queen. Secondly, that the castles again should be committed to the
custody of Englishmen, not of strangers. Thirdly, that the provisions
and statutes decreed at Oxford should,. as well by the king as by all
others, inviolably be observed. Fourthly, that the realm henceforth 
should be ruled and governed, not by foreigners, but by personages
born within the land. Fifthly, that all aliens and strangers should
void the land, not to return again, except only such whose abode
should by the common assent of the king's trusty subjects be admitted
and allowed.
(Illustration: Windsor Castle )

Thus the king and the nobles joining together after this form of
peace above prefixed, although not fully with heart, as after
appeared, put themselves in arms with all their power to recover the
castle of Windsor out of the strangers' hands. But Edward, in the
midway between London and the castle, meeting with his father and the
barons, entered communication upon the matter. Which being finished,
and he thinking to return into the castle again, by the policy of the
earl of Leicester, and William, bishop of Worcester, he was not
permitted to re-enter. Whereupon the strangers within the hold,
destitute of all hope to withstand the great force approaching,
rendered the castle unto the king and the barons upon this
convention; That with horse and harness they might be suffered safe
to depart the land, not to return any more. Which being granted,
certain of the barons conducted them in their journey towards the
sea-side, and there they left them.

In the same year, about the beginning of October, the king and queen
made over to France, with Simon Mountfort and other nobles, to hear
and stand to the arbitrement of Louis the French king, concerning the
controversy between the states of England, and all through the
procurement of Eleanor the queen. For she, not forgetting the old
contumely of the Londoners, exclaiming against her upon the bridge,
wrought always what revenge she could against them. Concerning the
arbitrement of this matter put to the French king, partly hath been
said before, and more shall be said (Christ willing) hereafter. Some
stories do add moreover, that the king continuing long in France,
word was sent to him out of England, that unless he returned again to
the realm, they would elect a new king. Whereupon the king, returning
out of France to Dover, would have entered the castle, but he was
stopped. Wherefore the king in fierce anger and great indignation
prepared his power towards London; where Simon Mountfort, the worthy
earl of Leicester, through a subtle train, was almost betrayed and
circumvented in Southwark, by the sudden pursuing of the king's army,
had not the Londoners with more speed, breaking bars and chains, made
way to rescue him, by the means of whom the earl at that time escaped
the danger.

Now to come to the sentence of the French king. Forasmuch as the
arbitrement of this matter was committed to him, as hath before been
specified, he in a great frequency both of French and English persons
about him, considering and poising the cause on both sides, between
the king and the nobles, clearly and solemnly pronounced on the
king's side against the barons, ordained that the king of England all
this while had suffered wrong, and that he should be restored again
to his pristine state, notwithstanding the provisions made at Oxford,
which he ordained to be repealed and abrogated.

The sentence of the French king thus awarded, as it gave to the king
of England with his retinue no little encouragement, so it wrought in
the nobles'hearts great indignation; which, notwithstanding that
partial decreement of the French king, sped themselves home out of
France to defend themselves with all their strength and power. And
not long after followeth also the king, by whose train Simon
Mountfort, earl of Leicester, as is above recited, was well near
circumvented in Southwark. Then the king, calling his council
together at Oxford, from whence he excluded the university of
students for a season, who were then at Northampton, as you have
heard before, there consulted, conferring with his friends and
counsellors what way best to be taken. And hearing that the barons
were assembled in a great number at the town of Northampton, he went
thither with his host and with his banners displayed, accompanied
with Richard his brother, king of Almain, also with Edward his son,
John Comp, of Scotland, with many other Scots, John of Dalliolo, lord
of Galloway, Robert of Bruce, Lord Walter of Anand, Roger of
Clifford, Philip of Marmion, John of Waus, Roger of Laiburne, Henry
Percy, Philip Basset, Roger of Mortimer, and William of Wallace, and
many others. Therefore the king commanded the barons that were within
to yield unto him presently the city and the pledges, or else he
would immediately destroy them. But they, counselling with the
younger Simon de Mountfort, which by his father's commandment had got
the residue thither to take counsel together, (for his father and the
earl of Gloucester were not yet come,) boldly and with one mind
answered, that they would not obey the king's will, but would rather
defend themselves and the city, if need were, even to the death.
Which the noblemen of the king's part hearing, sent word again, that
at the least they should come to the wall of the city to speak to the
king, if by any means peace might be made. And they, suspecting no
deceit, followed their counsel, and leaving their holds, came to the
wall towards the meadow, for there lay the king and his strong host
hard by. But in the mean space, whilst divers matters were reasoned
and treated of between the king and the lords, the Lord Philip
Basset, (which before was appointed to work that feat,) with mattocks
and other instruments of iron and men prepared for the onset, near to
the monastery of St. Andrew, did undermine the wall of the city; and
by this means the wall fell down lightly, and there was made a great
plain, so that in one forefront there might have gone together on a
row forty horsemen. And of this subtlety the alien monks that were
there were thought to be the workers, because they made way and
entrance for them that came in. But when they that passed by saw
this, and the king's banners were erected ready to enter in, there
was a great howling made, and the noise of the people came to the
ears of the barons, and they made speed to resist them; but it was
all in vain, because they were already prevented of a great company
of their enemies. But Simon Mountfort the younger, after he had
valiantly fought a while in the midst of his enemies with Peter
Mountfort, and a few that were with him, when Edward the king's son
came, was by his commandment taken and led away prisoner. But the
clerks of the university of Oxford (which university by the barons'
commandment was translated thither) did work against the king's men
more hurt than the other barons, with their slings, long bows, and
cross bows; for they had a banner by themselves, and that was set up
on high against the king. Wherewithal the king being greatly moved,
sware at his entering in that they should all be hanged. Which when
they heard, many of them shaved their crowns, and they that were able
ran away as fast as they could. And when the king entered the city,
many fled in their armour into the castle, others left their horse
and harness and ran into churches, and a few were slain, and those
were of the common people; but there was not much bloodshed, because
all things were done as upon the sudden. When the city was at length
set in quiet, the king commanded his oath to be executed upon the
clerks. But his counsellors said unto him, This be far from thee, O
king; for the sons of thy nobles, and of other great men of thy
kingdom, were there gathered together into the university; whom, if
thou wouldest cause to be hanged or slain, even they that now take
thy part would rise up against thee, not suffering to the uttermost
of their powers the blood of their sons and kinsfolk to be shed. And
so the king was pacified, and his wrath against the clerks was
stayed.

In the same day, after little more than an hour, the king's host
assaulted the castle, and the new hold-keepers were afraid, for that
they had not victuals and other things necessary for their
resistance; therefore they sent immediately messengers unto the king,
and yielded themselves to the king's mercy. There were taken that day
these knights and barons underwritten: Lord William de Ferrers, Lord
Peter Mountfort, companion of the said Simon de Mountfort the
younger, Lord Baldwin de Wake, Lord Adam de Newmarch, Lord Roger
Bertram, Lord Simon, the son of Simon a valiant warrior, which first
erected his banner against the king, Lord Berengarius de Watervile,
Lord Hugo Gubium, Lord Thomas Maunsell, Lord Roger Botemlam, Nicholas
Wake, Lord Robert de Newton, Lord Philip de Dribie, and Grimbald de
Pauncefoot. All these did the king take prisoners,and many more, of
whom he committed some to Lord Nicholas of Haversham, to be kept in
the same castle well defended; some he led away with him, and some he
sent to divers castles, and appointed Simon Mountfort to be cast into
Windsor castle. And all these things, as touching the taking of
Northampton, were done on the sabbath day in Passion week, being the
third of April, in the year of our Lord 1264; and the king went
forward even to Nottingham, burning and wasting the manors of the
lords and other his enemies, and there he gathered together his
nobles, and greatly increased his number.

When this ill luck was told, of them that there were run away, to the
Earl Simon, which was coming towards Northampton with a great host,
he was in a great rage, and yet was not discouraged; but immediately
going to London, he caused a chariot to be made him after the manner
of litters or coaches, wherein he might ride as though he were sick;
for he feigned himself to be feeble and weak, whereas he was indeed a
stout and valiant warrior: and there gathered to him other noblemen
that were confederate with him, earls and barons, every one bringing
with them their several armies; and preparing their engines of wood,
they went to besiege Rochester; for the earl of Worcester in the
king's behalf kept both the town and castle. When they had gotten the
first gate and the bridge, they were partly wounded, and compelled to
retire; and there that valiant knight, Roger de la Bourne, was
wounded, and very ill handled. And whilst they continued siege there
a while, it was told them that the king was coming towards London
with a mighty host. And they said one to another, If the king at his
coming should take London, we shall be shut in it as it were in a
strait corner; let us therefore return unto London, that we may keep
in safety both the place and the people. Therefore, appointing
certain persons to keep the siege, they returned to London. At the
length when the king came, they went forth with the citizens to meet
him, not with flowers and palms in their hands, but with swords and
spears. The king shunned them; and after he had the castle of
Kingston, which was the earl of Gloucester's, he went from thence to
Rochester, where, after he had killed a few, he brake the siege; and
from thence the king went to Tunbridge; and the town and castle now
being given up to him, he took there the countess of Gloucester, and
put her into an abbey, not to be kept in hold, but to go at liberty
whither she would. And he left for the custody of the castle and city
a great part of his host, to the number of above twenty picked out
ensigns, for that it was commonly said that the earl of Gloucester
would come out of hand to assault them. Which being done, he
continued on his journey to Winchester, where he received to peace
the seamen of the haven towns. And three days after, upon the Sunday
following, he came to the town of Lewes, and was received unto the
abbey, and his son Edward into the castle. Then the barons sent
letters to the king the twelfth day of May, the tenor whereof
followeth.

"To their most excellent Lord Henry, by the grace of God king of
England, lord of Ireland, and duke of Aquitaine, his barons and
others his faithful subjects, being willing to keep their oath and
fidelity to God and him, send greeting and due obedience with honour
and reverence. Whereas by many experiments it is manifest, that some
of your Grace's assistants have reported to your Majesty many lies of
us, working mischief as much as in them lieth, not only against us,
but against you also, and your whole realm; be it known to your
Highness, that we have been always willing to defend the health and
safeguard of your person, with all our power and fealty due to your
Grace, purposing to vex to the uttermost of our power and estate, not
only our ill-willers, but also your enemies, and the enemies of your
whole realm. If it be your good pleasure, give no credit to them, we
shall be always found your faithful subjects. And we, the earl of
Leicester, and Gilbert of Clare, at the request of others, for us and
them have put to our seals."

These letters being read and heard, there was a council called, and
the king writ back to them, and specially to the two earls of
Leicester and Gloucester, in manner and form following.

"Henry, by the grace of God king of England, lord of Ireland, duke of
Aquitaine, &c., to Simon Mountfort, and Gilbert de Clare, and their
confederates. Forasmuch as by the war and general disquietness by
your means raised up in our whole realm, and also the burnings and
other hurtful enormities, it appeareth manifestly that you keep not
your fidelity to us-ward, nor care any thing for our health or
safety; and for that ye have unorderly grieved our nobles, and others
our faithful subjects, sticking faithfully and constantly to us, (as
you have certified us,) we accounting their loss as our own, and 
their enemies as ours; and seeing these my aforesaid faithful
subjects, for the keeping of their fidelity, do assist us manfully
and faithfully against your unfaithfulness; we, therefore, care not
for your fidelity or love, but defy you as our and their enemies.
Witness myself at Lewes, the day and year aforesaid."

Also Richard, king of Almaine, and Lord Edward, the son of King
Henry, writ to the barons in this wise:

"Richard, by the grace of God king of the Romans, always Augustus,
and Edward, eldest son of the king of England, and all the other
barons and nobles constantly and faithfully in heart and deed
cleaving to the foresaid king of England, to Simon Mountfort, and
Gilbert de Clare, and to all and singular others their adherents in
their conspiracy. By your letters which you sent to our lord, the
noble king of England, we have understanding that you defy us,
although before any such word, your defiance towards us was apparent
enough by your cruel persecution in burning our possessions, and
spoiling our goods. We, therefore, give you to wit, that we all and
every one of us, as your enemies, do defy you all as our open
enemies. And further, that we will not cease, wheresoever it shall
lie in our power, to the uttermost of our force and might to subvert
your persons, and all that you have. As touching that you lay to our
charge, that we give neither faithful nor good counsel to our lord
the king, you say not the truth. And if your Lord Simon Mountfort, or
Gilbert de Clare, will affirm the same in our lord the king's court,
we are ready to get safe-conduct for you to come to the said court,
to try and declare the truth of our innocency, and the falsehood of
you both, as forsworn traitors, by some man equal with you in
nobility and stock. All we are contained with the seals of the
foresaid lords, the Lord Richard, and the Lord Edward. Dated the day
aforesaid."

Both which letters being read, they drew near to the king; for they
were not far distant from the place which is called Lewes. And for
that there wanted to the king's store provision for their horses, it
was commanded them on Tuesday to go forth to seek for hay and
provender; which, when they were gone forth, were prevented of their
enemies, and most of them killed; but the residue returning, saw
their enemies coming very early on the Wednesday morning, and making
outcries, stirred up the king and his host to arm themselves. Then
the barons, coming to the full plain, descended there, and girding
and trimming their horses, made fit their harness to them. And there
the Earl Simon made the earl of Gloucester, and Robert de Vere, and
many other new knights. Which being done, he divided and
distinguished his host into four several battles, and he appointed
noblemen to guide and govern every battle. And over the first battle
were ordained captains, Henry Mountfort, the eldest son of the Earl
Simon, and Guido, his brother, Lord John de Bruch the younger, and
Lord Humphrey de Bohun. Over the second battle, Lord Gilbert Clare,
earl of Gloucester, Lord John, the son of Lord St. John, and Lord
William of Mountchersy. And over the third, in which the Londoners
were, at their request, the Lord Nicholas Segrave was assigned; which
required also very instantly, that they might have the first stroke
in the battle, at the adventure, come what come would. But over the
fourth battle the earl himself was captain, with the Lord Thomas of
Pinelston. In the mean season came forth the king's host, preparing
themselves to the field in three battles; of which Edward the king's
son led the first, with the earl of Warwick, and Valence, the king's
brother; and the second the king of Almaine, guided with his son
Henry; but the king with his nobles guided the third; and the fourth
legion the king appointed not, by reason he had left many of his
chief soldiers behind him to keep the castle and town of Tunbridge
against the earl of Gloucester. And the most part of the king's army
were but young men, for the king thought not that his barons had been
come so nigh hand. Their armies being on both sides set in array and
order, they exhorted one another on either party to fight valiantly;
and after they buckled together, the battle was great, and many
horsemen were overthrown even in a moment. But by and by Edward, the
king's son, with his band, as a fierce young gentleman and valiant
knight, fell upon his enemies with such force, that he compelled them
to recoil back a great way, so that the hindmost (thinking by reason
of their giving back that the foremost were slain) ran many of them
away; and, taking water to pass over, were almost threescore soldiers
drowned, and a few of them being slain, all the rest fled.
Straightway the Londoners, which had asked the first fight, knowing
not how the battle went, took their heels; whom Edward pursued with
his band, killing the hindmost of them the space of two or three
miles; for he hated them, because they had rebelled against his
father, and disgraced his mother when she was carried by barge upon
the Thames from the Tower to Windsor, as is before touched.

Whilst that Prince Edward was thus in the chase of the Londoners, who
had the vaward of the barons' battle, in the mean time the main
battle of the barons set upon the king's main battle, of the which
the king of Almaine, the brother of King Henry, had the leading;
which being soon discomfited, and he with his son Henry, and Robert
de Bruce, John Coven, with divers other captains, taken prisoners,
the rereward, wherein the king himself fought, being immediately so
hardly beset, and he seeing his knights and soldiers on every side
about him beaten down and slain, and divers others of his soldiers to
forsake the field and shift for themselves, thought good to take
again the town, and so retired into the abbey from whence he came,
shutting andrampering up the gates, and caused the same to be
strongly warded with soldiers. To be brief, the barons thus getting
the field, after a long fight, and many men on either side slain,
entered also the town of Lewes, pursuing in chase such soldiers as
thither fled for succour.

In the mean time Prince Edward, returning from the chase of the
Londoners, as ye heard, who desired to give the first onset, and
espying the chariot of the Earl Simon, (which he caused purposely to
be made for him,) and the horses in the same, without either waggoner
or any other to govern the same, fell immediately upon the chariot,
and brake it all in pieces, and slew two burgesses that were within
the same. But when be came nearer to the place where the bloody
battle had been fought, and saw the great discomfiture and overthrow
which in his absence with great mortality and slaughter had happened,
his heart was much dismayed, and his countenance altered. Yet
notwithstanding, comforting and encouraging his knights and soldiers,
of whom he had a valiant company, in battle array he marched toward
the town; against whom came the barons again with all their power.
And thus was begun betwixt them a fresh field and new battle, and
many men slain on either side. But at length the earl de Warenia,
with the king's two brethren, forsook the field and fled; after whom
went more than seven hundred chosen soldiers, which were of their
house and family, who the same day came to Pevensy, and there took
shipping over the sea. Also Hugh Bigot with divers others fled, and
left the valiant prince fighting in the field; which thing he also
perceiving took the town. And when he found not the king his father
at the castle, he went from thence to the abbey where he was. In the
mean season the town was divided in parts, some fighting, some
spoiling, some getting of booties; neither could scarcely one of them
know and discern another, whether he were his friend or enemy. But
when within a while the barons had assembled some company, they gave
an assault upon the castle, thinking to have rescued John Gifford and
others, whom the king's soldiers had taken prisoners and put therein.
But the soldiers within manfully defended the same, and in throwing
out balls of wild-fire, as for the defence thereof they had, they
also fired part of the town. Then the barons retired and left the
castle, and purposed to have set upon the abbey, where the king and
Prince Edward his son was, which also was set on fire by the assault
given to the castle; but yet it was shortly recovered and quenched.
Then Edward, the king's son, perceiving the bold enterprise of the
barons, prepared with courageous knights and soldiers, as were yet
remaining and within the abbey, to have issued out, and to have given
a new charge upon them. But the barons, perceiving that, sent unto
the king messengers to entreat a truce for that day, and on the
morrow to talk and conclude of a further peace between them. This
battle was fought upon the nineteenth day of May, being the year of
our Lord 1264.

The next day, which was Thursday, there were sent on either side two
Preaching friars between the king and the barons, with certain
articles and demands of peace, so that with certain others these
conditions were agreed on: That on the morrow, being Friday, the
prince should give himself in hostage for the king his father, and
others of his part. And Henry, the king's son, of Almaine, also
should give himself the like for his father. That those things which
should be concluded upon for the benefit and commodity of the realm,
and peaceable quietness thereof, might be performed, and that all
such prisoners as were taken on either side should be freely ransomed
and sent home.

The next day, which was Saturday, the king discharged all his
soldiers, and others that were with him in the abbey, licensing them
to depart whither they listed. And furthermore, by the advice of his
son and the barons, he gave commandment to those which he had
appointed to the keeping of Tunbridge, that they should make no 
attempt to the prejudice or hurt of the barons, but, in hope of the
peace which was now at the point to be concluded, they should also
depart every man to their houses and habitations. But they, giving no
credit thereunto, went with their furniture to Bristow, where they
kept themselves in garrison, until the escaping of Edward the king's
son out of prison. But first before that, when they heard at
Tunbridge that the king was vanquished in battle, and that the
Londoners in the foreward were put to flight by Prince Edward, (by a
messenger that escaped from the same,) and that also the same
Londoners were at Crowdown, they set upon them in the eveningtide,
and, taking from them much spoil, slew also many of them.

But when Roger Mortimer's part began to decrease, and Simon the
earl's part on the other side to increase, he bare himself more
stout, for that both the king and all that was his did depend upon
the good-will and favour of the earl, and led with him the king's son
to such holds and castles as he thought to be most strong; as though
all were in his hands to do as him liked; and he kept the hostages
more straitly than he was wont to do. Insomuch that when it was blown
abroad that the king's son was kept as prisoner, divers that were his
friends counselled him that he should desire to disport himself at
the barriers, that the people might have a sight of him. But he,
being narrowly guarded, as he knew, and fearing some tumult to arise,
thought good to refuse their counsel, and so did.

You are therefore to note, that at this time the prelates of England
stood upon their pantofles, and jolly fellows (I tell you) they would
be known to be. For in an inquisition made after the death of one
Alfred of Lincoln, being, as is supposed, a baron of this realm,
there is found (inter alia) as followeth: "That the aforenamed Alfred
held a certain piece of the park of Dunetish and Tilei of the abbot
of Cerne, by service of holding his stirrup when the abbot should
take horseback, and to give him place in the shire at such time as he
should be present." The circumstances hereof being considered,
together with the time wherein it was done, giveth probable cause to
conjecture that the occasion of this matter came by this means: viz.
That whereas the said Alfred was desirous to enlarge his park, and
could not so do but by purchasing of part of some other ground next
adjoining, whereof the said abbot was owner, he was therefore
constrained either to lack that he liked, or to admit such conditions
as pleased my lord abbot; who, like a lord, (as you see,) was content
to let him have his land, reserving such service as is above said.
Wherein would be noted the pomp of prelates in those days, and how
near they drew in imitation to the pope, in whose treading they
traced.

But leaving these affairs of the church and churchmen, wherein we
have been somewhat large, we will now enter into other troubles of
the temporal state. You heard before of a pacification concluded
between the king and his barons in the year of our Lord 1264, the
same having been admitted by mutual and common consent of the
temporalty and clergy. Nevertheless, as a sore not well searched and
tented, but superficially and overly skinned, doth break out into a
more dangerous botch; so it came to pass among the lords and barons,
betwixt whom no such firm reconciliation was made as was like long to
last. Whereupon ensued, after secret grudge and privy hatred, open
arms and conflicts. For in this year 1265 the sons of Simon the earl,
to wit, Henry, Simon, and Guido, being all puffed up, and with the
pride of their success elevated, did that which nothing contented the
earl of Gloucester; insomuch that he challenged Henry, the eldest son
of the Earl Simon Mountfort, at the barriers, to be tried at
Northampton. But that challenge was taken up, lest some further
inconvenience might have risen thereof. But the earl of Gloucester,
being moved therewith in his mind, sent unto his father the earl that
he should deliver him such prisoners, being noblemen, as he took at
the battle of Lewes; among whom the king of Almaine was named first.
But he by countermand answered him, and said, that it might content
and satisfy him, for that he had saved and preserved to him his lands
that day the battle was fought at Lewes; and that furthermore he
would not send him such prisoners as he demanded; and that he himself
kept more noble than they in the castle of Dover; among whom was John
Basset, which undermined and burst down the walls of Northampton at
that conflict, as is said before and specified.

The earl of Gloucester being herewith displeased, so soon as he heard
this answer, sent incontinently to the Lord Roger Mortimer, which
always took the king's part, desiring that they two might talk
together touching the benefit and commodity of the king. Who,
doubting some deceit, desired sureties and pledges for his safe
return, and he would come and talk with him, and so had. When they
met, and had a while talked familiarly, the earl of Gloucester showed
him all that he was purposed to do; and that further he lamented he
had so much and so greatly offended the king; and that he would with
all his power and ability make amends for that offence, in the
restitution of the king again to his kingly dignity, as much as he
possibly might. Therefore they sent secretly to Robert, the brother
of the earl of Gloucester, which was near about the Earl Simon, and
made him to consent with them therein. And to work this thing more
circumspectly, when opportunity served thereunto, Roger Mortimer sent
unto the king's son, a horse excelling all others in footmanship,
unto whom he might be sure to trust, when he saw convenient time
thereunto. After which things thus contrived, Prince Edward desired
leave of the earl to prove his courser against such time as he should
ride at the tilt, as they might when they listed. As soon as he had
gotten leave, and that with gallopping and ranging the field he had
wearied divers of their horses; at the last, getting up upon the
horse which for that purpose was sent, and spying a servant on
horseback coming toward him with two swords, he turned about unto his
keeper, whose name was Robert de Rose, and to others his play-fellows
that were with him, saying, My loving lords, thus long have I kept
you company, and have been in your custodies; and now, not purposing
to use your companies any longer, I betake you to God. And, quickly
turning his horse about, put to the spurs, and away went he. The
other pricked after apace, but yet came far gnough behind, and
overtake him they could not. At last, when they saw Roger Mortimer
coming from his castle of Wigmore, accompanied with many armed men,
to meet him, as before it was appointed, they returned again home as
wise as when they came forth. And when this the prince's escape was
divulged, much people came unto him out of every quarter with great 
joy thereof. Amongst whom the first was the earl of Gloucester, and
the other soldiers of the king, which had now long lien at Bristow,
and thereabouts, and within a short space he had a great and a mighty
host.

Which thing when the Earl Simon understood, he much doubted and
mistrusted himself; and sending into Wales, he gat from thence a
great many men, and augmented his power as strongly as he might from
every part of England. He sent also Simon his son to the noblemen of
the north parts, that with all possible speed he might bring them
with him; who with a great company came with him, and at Kenilworth
awhile they stayed, and there pitched their tents. But leaving
Kenilworth for a certain time, they went to Winchester, and spoiled
the same, and then returned again to Kenilworth. And when this was
declared to Edward the king's son, who then was at Worcester, by a
certain spial, which he had gotten after he came from Gloucester a
little before, he prepared himself with his soldiers in the night
season to go to the place where the spy should bring him, which was
into a deep valley, near unto the place where Simon and his company
had pitched. And when in the morning they were very early about to
arm themselves, and prepare their horses, they heard a great noise of
their enemies coming towards them. Then thinking that they had
prepared themselves against their coming, and so had been betrayed,
they set forth in battle-array, marching forwards, till that they met
certain of their enemies straggling in long wings, thinking to have
gone a foraging, and to have sought for victuals; whom they took, and
with their fresh horses new horsed their soldiers that had their
horses tired with long travel. And so, marching forward, came very
early in the morning upon their enemies, whom for the most part they
found sleeping; and laying lustily about them, they slew divers; some
they took, the rest they put to flight; and fifteen of their chiefest
ensigns they took, with many other rich spoils. But young Simon
himself lodged in the castle, who with a few with him escaped and
fled. And this was the fourth day before the nones of August, A.D.
1265.

But when Edward heard that Earl Simon was coming toward Kenilworth,
to join with his son's battle, he marched forward to meet him the
third day after at Evesham, where he divided his host into three
battles, he himself having the leading of one, the earl of Gloucester
the second, and Roger Mortimer the third, which came upon their
backs. The king's son Edward came northward, as though he came from
Kenilworth to Evesham; and because he would not be descried, he
caused his own standards and ensigns to be taken down, and young
Simon's which he had taken before to be advanced. But the Earl
Simon's scurrier, whose name was Nicholas, showed the earl that such
bands and companies were marching towards him; who thinking the same
to have been Simon his son's power, not knowing of the overthrow
which he had before, gave small credit thereunto, till that the said
Nicholas, the better to view and descry them, went up to the abbey
steeple of Evesham, where he might plainly discern them all and their
standards; for by this time they were mounted the hill which they
laboured to attain, thinking to have that vantage when they should
give their charge as they had purposed; and had also advanced again
his own standards, and pulled down Simon's, whereby they were the
more easier descried and known. Then he cried aloud to the Earl
Simon, and said, We are all but dead men; for it is not your son, as
you suppose, that cometh, but it is Edward the king's son that cometh
from one part, and the earl of Gloucester from another part, and
Roger Mortimer from the third part. Then said the earl, The Lord be
merciful unto our souls, forasmuch as our bodies and lives are now in
their hands; commanding that every man should make himself ready to
God, and to fight out the field, for that it was their wills to die
for their laws, and in a just quarrel. And such as would depart he
gave leave to go their ways, that they should be no discomfiture to
the rest.

Then came unto him his eldest son Henry, and comforted him, desiring
him to have no despair, nor yet mistrust in the good success of this
victory, with other such cheerful words. No, my son, (saith he,) I
despair not; but yet it is thy presumption, and the pride of the rest
of thy brethren, that hath brought me to this end you see;
notwithstanding, yet I trust I shall die to God, and in a righteous
quarrel. After words of comfort given to all his host, and the
oration made, as is the manner, they all armed themselves. The king
also (whom the earl always kept with him) he armed in an armour of
his own; and then, dividing their battles, they marched towards their
enemies. But before they joined, the Welchmen ran their ways, and
thinking to escape over the river of Dee, were there some drowned,
and some slain. Then when the battles joined and came to handy
strokes, within short space many of the earl's part fell and were
slain; and the king himself being struck at, cried with a loud voice
to them, saying, "Kill me not, I am Henry your king." And with these
the king's words the Lord Adam Monthaut knew him, and saved him. At
whose voice and cry came also Prince Edward his son, and delivered
him to the guard and custody of certain knights. In the mean season
the Earl Simon was hard bestead and beaten down, and also slain, 
before Edward the prince came at him. Howbeit, before he fell, whenas
he fought for life, and Henry his son, and other noblemen on his
part, were about him, he brake out into these words unto his enemies,
saying, What, is there no mercy and compassion with you? Who again
answered, What compassion should there be showed to traitors? Then
said he, The Lord be merciful unto our souls, our bodies are in your
hands. And so soon as these words were spoken, they mangled his body,
and divided his members, and cut off his head, which head Roger
Mortimer sent unto his wife. And not far off from him also was slain
Henry his eldest son, the Lord Hugh Spenser, the Lord Radulph Basset,
the Lord Thomas de Hestele, the Lord William Mandeville, the Lord
John Beauchamp, the Lord Guido Baillofer, the Lord Roger Rowley, and
many other noblemen besides, with a great multitude of people, the
Lord knoweth how many. This battle was fought in the month of August,
and continued from one of the clock till it was night; in the which
was not so much as one man on the earl's part, of any estimation,
fortitude, and courage, but in that battle lost his life; more than
the Lord John, who by the great grace of God escaped death. Neither
is this to be forgotten, that the same day, being Tuesday, at that
instant hour when the battle began, which was at one of the clock at
afternoon, there was such a darkness over all, such thunder and such
tempest, that the like before tha time was never seen, being very
calm and fair weather both immediately before and after; which seemed
(saith mine author) to give a plain demon stration of that which
afterwards chanced and followed.

After this great slaughter and overthrow, there was a parliament
summoned at Winchester by the earl of Gloucester, and others of his
part. Here by the way is to be considered, that the king, although he
was in the camp of the earl of Leicester, being then in custody, and
his son,Edward with the earl of Gloucester; yet the king was on that
side against his will, and therefore in the said parliament the king
was restored to his kingly dignity, which was before that time under
the custody of the barons. But after the battle was ended and do
certain of them that loved the earl upon an old ladder gathered up
such parts of his body as remained, and, covering the same with an
old gown, brought it to Evesham, where they putting the same in a
fair linen cloth, buried it in the church. But not long after, such
as thought not themselves sufficiently revenged with his death, (to
wreak them of the dead corpse,) took up the same, and threw it in
another place, saying that he which was both accursed and a traitor
was not worthy of Christian burial.

The same year also died Walter Cantilupe, bishop of Winchester, after
whom succeeded Nicolas of Ely, the king's chancellor.
(Illustration: Kenilworth Castle )

The same year the king, perceiving that unless the castle of
Kenilworth were recovered, and the boldness of them restrained that
kept the same, many evils and inconveniences might ensue thereupon,
to the prejudice of his kingdom; for that the number increased every
day more and more, wasting and spoiling the country all about;
therefore he gathered an army, and came down to Warwick, where he
awhile tarried, expecting the meeting and assembling of his marquises
and lords, with ensigns and other munition suitable. Who when their
bands were furnished and mustered, and all things ready, the morrow
after Midsummer day he displayed his banner, and began his voyage,
marching towards Kenilworth, and besieged the same. During which
siege, by the advice and counsel of the king, the pope's legate, and
other noblemen, twelve persons were chosen which should have the
disposing of those things that pertained to the state of the realm,
and of those that had lost their lands and inheritances, who, amongst
other things, made and established this one proviso, that was
commonly called Kenilworth decree: That all those which had lost
their lands by attainder (although not yet attainted) should fine
therefore at the king's pleasure, and take their lands of him again;
paying some three years', some, four years', some two years' revenues
of the same, according to the quality of the crime and offence
committed. All which provisos or provisions were established and
confirmed, as well by the corporal oath as by signment of the same
with the hands and seals of all the prelates and clergy of England,
there assembled for that purpose by the pope's legate upon the feast
of All saints. When these things were thus finished, messengers were
sent on the king's behalf, as well to those that kept the castle of
Kenilworth, as also to those that were assembled in the Isle of Ely;
willing them to come under the protection of the king's peace, and
yield to the foresaid provisos, established by the twelve
commissioners. Who all together answered and said, that they would in
no wise condescend thereunto, both for that it was done without their
consents, not being called unto it, and also for that the said decree
was over strait and intolerable. Within short space after great
famine and pestilence chanced amongst them which kept the castle,
insomuch that they were without all hope of keeping the same;
wherefore, soon after, the king sending again to them to yield the
castle and take their pardons, they, consulting together of their own
estate, thus answered the king's messengers: If it please the king
and his council to permit us to send our messenger to the Lord Simon
Mountfort, which is beyond the sea, that he may come by a certain day
to the defence of this his garrison and fort, and that in the mean
space we be not disturbed by the king's army that hath environed us
till the return of our messengers; if by the day appointed he come
not, we will yield up the same, so that we may be pardoned of life,
limb, and movables.

When the messengers were returned, and had declared to the king their
answer, he, consulting with his nobles about the matter, agreed unto
their petitions, and caused the truce to be proclaimed throughout all
his camp, after that sufficient hostages were on either side given
for the performance of the same; whereupon they set forward their
messengers, as before was said they would. But after that, many of
them within the castle being very grievously vexed with the bloody
flux, and other diseases, insomuch that the whole men might not abide
the corruption and annoyance of those that were diseased, they
delivered up the castle before the return of the messengers again,
and were permitted to go whither they would to refresh themselves, as
men molested with great vexations and miseries. After the rendering
up of the castle, the king committed the custody thereof to his son
Edmund, and so with his host departing from his siege, came upon
Christmas even to Osny, where he with great solemnity and triumph
kept his Christmas during seven days, and from thence with his host
came to Windsor, from whence after a few days he marched towards Ely;
in which island he besieged those which were disherited, and sharply
also assaulted them.

The same year Pope Clement the Fourth promoted Master Walter Gifford,
bishop of Bath, to be archbishop of York.

In which year also the Church of England began to pay the tenths of
all their revenues, as well spiritual as temporal, to the king, to
continue for three years' space; and this was done by the authority
apostolical.

Within a while after, the barons which were yet remaining gathered
themselves together again; amongst whom John Daiwill, being a subtle
and stout man of war, began to have a name, and was well esteemed
amongst them, who all together did what mischief they might; and in
the month of May they assembled at Chesterfield, under the said John
Daiwill and the earl of Ferarence, upon whom the king's soldiers
coming suddenly in the night, took them sleeping, and slew many of
them. Then the said John Daiwill, quickly arming himself, came forth,
thinking with more defence both to save himself and to escape. Who in
the way struck the Lord Gilbert Humsard such a blow with his demi-
lance, that he felled both him and his horse to the ground, and so
fled with a few more after him. And thus, while the poor soldiers
fought and were slain, the barons fled away and saved themselves.
Also the Earl Ferarence fled, and hid himself in a church; but being
bewrayed by a woman, he was taken forth, and led away prisoner. After
this, the king kept a parliament at Northampton, where he disherited
all those that took part with the Earl Simon and all their children.
Where also the pope's legate Octobonus held a convocation, and
excommunicated all such bishops as had taken any part with Simon
against the king; of whom divers he sent up to Rome, to be absolved
of the pope; and further, the said legate caused to be proclaimed
certain decrees, which he himself had made, and also the new grant of
Pope Clement to the king and queen of all the tenths for seven years
to come. And shortly after, a tax also was fined upon the country of
Norfolk, to the gathering whereof Walter, the bishop of Norwich, was
appointed.

After this, in the year of our Lord 1267, King Henry besieged again
the castle of Kenilworth, from the seventh day before the first day
of July, until the beginning of December, whither came Octobonus, the
pope's legate; by whose entreaty Henry Hastings delivered the same
unto the king, which stoutly had defended the same, and resisted the
king, having pardon granted, both for him and his, of his life,
lands, goods, and cattle. In which time also the barons again
assembled with John Daiwill, in the isle of Axioline, and so
proceeded till they came to Lincoln, which they also took, and
spoiled the Jews, and slew many of them; and entering their
synagogue, tare and rent the book of their law, and burned the same,
and all other writings and obligations which they could come by.
Which thing when the king heard, he sent his son Prince Edward; but
as soon as they heard that, they fled into the Isle of Ely, and
fortified the same with bulwarks as strongly as they might at every
entrance into the same. This was in the month of April when Edward
the king's son came thither; who, for the great abundance of waters
in the same, could by no means enter the island, till at length, by
the counsel of the inhabitants of that province, he caused with a
number of workmen great trenches and ditches to be made, somewhat to
convey away the water; and so long they used the counsel of them, in
making bridges with planks and hurdles, till at the last they entered
the island, who, as soon as they were entered, the barons fled to
London, where they were of the Londoners well entertained. The rest
which were in the island yielded themselves, (amongst whom was Roger
Wake, Simon the younger, and Peches,) saving their lives and members.
After this, both the king and Edward his son came to London with a
great power, but yet were kept out of the city by the barons and
citizens for the space of forty days. And Octobonus, the legate,
(who, for fear, was fled into the Tower,) they narrowly laid for,
that he should not escape. At length, by the entreaty of the earl of
Gloucester, and other earls that were his friends, both the barons
and citizens were pardoned, and admitted to the king's favour. And
four bishops and eight other noblemen were chosen, such as were at
Coventry first nominated, that they should order and dispose all
matters betwixt the king and such as had lost their inheritance, as
also the form of their peace and ransom. And proclamation was made
upon the feast of All-saints of perfect peace and accord throughout
all the realm.

In the fifty-second year of this King Henry's reign, eight days after
the feast of St. Martin, he held a parliament at Marlborough, in the
year of our Lord above recited; where by the advice of wise and
discreet men, and withal the consents of the nobles, he ordained and
enacted divers good and profitable statutes for the reformation and
bettering of the state of the realm and execution of common justice,
which are called the statutes of Marlborough.

The same year, upon St. Gregory's day, Octobonus, the legate, called
a council at London, where were five archbishops, and a great number
of bishops, abbots, and other prelates; which council also within
three days brake up again.



65. PRINCE EDWARD'S CRUSADE

The same year, upon St. John's day the Baptist, Edward, the king's
son, and divers other noblemen of England, took upon them the cross
by the legate's hands at Northampton, to the relief of the Holy Land,
and the subversion of the enemies of the cross of Christ. Which done,
the legate the same year went out of England, not purposing after
that to return again. This holy legate, (saith mine author,) which
might well be resembled to a lynx, the monstrous beast whose quick
sight penetrateth every thing, enrolled to perpetual memory the
valuation of all the churches in the realm of England so narrowly, as
by any means possible he might inquire the certainty thereof. The
same was he that made all the cathedral and conventual churches to
pay pensions; so that those churches which gave not the vacancy of
their benefices to their clerks and strangers, should pay unto them a
certain yearly pension, during the vacancy of the benefices which
they should have.

The same year died Pope Clement the Fourth, after whose death the
Church of Rome was two years vacant; and then was chosen an
archdeacon cardinal, whose name was Theardus, as he was taking his
journey into the Holy Land, and they called him Gregory the Tenth.

Then also did Edmund, earl of Lancaster and Leicester, and second son
of King Henry, take to wife the earl of Albemarle's daughter, and the
niece of the earl of Gloucester; at which marriage was the king and
the queen, and all the nobility of England.

The same year was the body of St. Edward the king and confessor, by
Walter Gifford, archbishop of York, and other bishops, entombed in a
new and rich shrine of gold and silver, beset with precious stones,
in the presence of Henry the king of England. In which year also fell
a great rain and inundation of waters, such as hath not lightly been
seen, which increased and continued the space of forty days, and
more.

The same year died Walter de Laiwill, bishop of Sarum, the third day
before the nones of January. After whom succeeded Robert of
Northampton, the dean of the same church. And because the see of
Canterbury was then vacant, he was confirmed by the chapter of
Canterbury; which chapter had always the jurisdiction in spiritual
causes, during the vacancy of that see, in as ample manner as the
bishop himself had being alive. After this, the bishop elect coming
thither, thinking to have had his consecration, was, notwithstanding,
put back for two causes: one was, for that there was present then no
more but one bishop; the other was, for that all the other bishops
had appealed, that he might not be consecrated to their prejudice;
that is, by the authority of the chapter of Canterbury, saying that
they would not be under the obedience of the monks.

After this, solemn messengers were for this cause sent to the
cardinals of Rome, for that then the see of Rome was vacant; who
received answer, that during the vacation of that see the
confirmation and consecration of the bishop elect pertained to the
aforesaid chapter of Canterbury.

The same year also was the Lord Henry, the son and heir of the Lord
Richard, king of Almaine, and brother to King Henry the Third, slain
at Viterbium, in a certain chapel hearing mass, by the Lords Simon
and Guido, the sons of the Lord Simon Mountfort, earl of Leicester.

During this king's reign there was made a great and general
expedition of divers and sundry Christian princes to Jerusalem,
taking upon them the Lord's character, that is, the cross; among whom
was also Edward the king's son, unto the which expedition was granted
him a subsidy throughout all the realm. And in the month of May, in
the year of our Lord 1270, or, as saith Florilegus, A.D. 1269, he set
forward on his journey.

About the time when Prince Edward was preparing his journey toward
Asia, Boniface, of whom ye heard before, the archbishop of
Canterbury, ended his life in the country of Sabaudia, going belike
to Rome, or coming thence. After whose death the monks of Canterbury,
proceeding to a new election granted by the king, agreed upon the
prior of their house, named Adam Chelindon. But the king and his son
Prince Edward, consenting and speaking in the behalf of Robert
Burnell their chancellor, did solicit the matter with the monks,
partly entreating, partly threatening them, to choose the said Robert
to be archbishop. Notwithstanding, the monks being stout, would
neither relent to their courteous request, nor yet bow to their
boisterous threats; but, constantly persisting in their former
election, appealed from the king and prince to the pope. Prince
Edward being now on his journey, and seeing himself thus frustrated
of the monks, writeth back to the king his father; devoutly praying
and beseeching him in no wise to admit the election of the foresaid
monks. And so, passing to Dover with Henry, the son of Richard his
uncle, king of Romans, with their wives, they took their passage in 
the month of August. After this, the prior thus elected, as is
foretold, but not admitted by the king to be archbishop, went up to
Rome.

In the mean time, the monks, in the absence of their elect, ordained
one Geoffrey Pomenall to be their official; who seeing himself
advanced to that dignity, and bearing belike some old grudge against
the prior of Dover, caused him to be cited up to appear in the
chapter house of Canterbury. The prior of Dover seeing this citation
to be prejudicial to him and to the church of Dover, and knowing that
the monks of Canterbury have no such jurisdiction, (the see of
Canterbury being vacant,) but that all things appertaining to that
church ought to be reserved whole to the consecration of the new
archbishop; therefore, for the state both of him and of his church,
he appealed up also unto Rome. But to return to the archbishop again.

The second year after Chelindon, the foresaid archbishop elect,
remaining all this while at Rome, at last resigned up his election to
the pope's hand, being Gregory the Tenth; who then gave the same to
Robert Kilwarby. Who then coming to Dover, restored again the prior
of that house, being before excluded upon certain causes. By these
contentions judge, good reader, of the religion of these men, and of
these times. And now to return to our former story.

About this time came out the great Concordance by an English friar,
called John Dernington.

It was above declared, how a general voyage being proclaimed to war
against the. Turks, and a subsidy being collected in England upon the
same, Prince Edward with others was appointed to take their voyage,
and now were onward in their journey. Who, at Michaelmas following,
with his company came to Egermorth, which is from Marsilia eight
leagues westward; and there taking ship again, (having a merry wind
and prosperous,) within ten days arrived at Sunes at Tunicium, where
he was with great joy welcomed and entertained of the Christian
princes that were to this purpose assembled, as of Philip the French
King, whose father Louis died a little before, of Charles the king of
Sicily, and the two kings Navarre and Arragon. And as the Lord Edward
came thither for his father the king of England, thither came also
Henry, the son of the king of Almaine, for his father; who, at his
return from the voyage, was slain in a chapel at Viterbium hearing
mass, by the Lords Simon and Guido, the sons of the Lord Simon
Mountfort, earl of Leicester.

When Prince Edward demanded of these kings and princes what was to be
done, they answered him again, and said, The prince of this city,
said they, and the province adjoining to the same, hath been
accustomed to pay tribute unto the king of Sicily every year. And
now, for that the same hath been for the space of seven years unpaid
and more, therefore we thought good to make invasion upon him. But
the king knowing the same tribute to be justly demanded, hath now
according to our own desires satisfied for the time past, and also
paid his tribute beforehand.

Then said he, My lords, what is this to the purpose? Are we not here
all assembled, and have taken upon us the Lord's character, to fight
against the infidels and enemies of Christ? What mean you then to
conclude a peace with them? God forbid we should do so; for now the
land is plain and hard, so that we may approach the holy city
Jerusalem. Then said they, Now have we made a league with them,
neither is it lawful for us to break the same; but let us return
again to Sicily, and when the winter is past, we may well take
shipping to Acre. But this counsel nothing at all liked him, neither
did he show himself well pleased therewith; but after that he had
made them a princely banquet, he went into his closet or privy
chamber from amongst them, neither would be partaker of any of that
wicked money which they had taken. They, notwithstanding, continuing
their purpose, at the next merry wind took shipping; and, for want of
ships, left two hundred of their men ashore, crying out and piteously
lamenting for the peril and hazard of death they were in. Wherewith
Prince Edward, being somewhat moved with compassion, came back to the
land, and received and stowed them in his own ships, being the last
that went aboard. Within seven days after, they arrived in the
kingdom of Sicily, over against the city Trapes, casting their
anchors a league from thence within the sea, for that their ships
were of great burden and thoroughly fraught. And from the haven of
the city they sent out barges and boats to receive and bring such of
the nobility to land as would; but their horses, for the most part,
and all their armour, they kept still within board. At length,
towards the evening the sea began to be rough, and increased to a
great tempest and a mighty, insomuch that their ships were beaten one
against another's sides; and drowned there were of them, at that
tempest, lying at anchor, more than a hundred and twenty, with all
their armour and munition, with innumerable souls besides; and that
wicked money also, which they had taken before, likewise perished and
was drowned. But the tempest hurt not so much as one ship of Prince
Edward's, who had in number thirteen, nor yet had one man lost
thereby, for that, as it may be presupposed, he consented not to the
wicked counsel of the rest. When in the morning the princes and kings
came to the sea-side, and saw all their ships drowned, and saw their
men and horses in great number cast upon the land drowned, they had
full heavy hearts, as well they might. For of all their ships and
mariners, which were in number fifteen hundred, besides the common
soldiers, there were no more saved than the mariners of one only
ship, and they in this wise. There was in that ship a good and wise
matron, (a countess, or an earl's wife,) who perceiving the tempest
to grow, and fearing herself, called to her the master of the ship,
and asked whether, in attempting to the shore, it were not possible
to save themselves. Who answered, that to save the ship it was
impossible, howbeit the men that were therein by God's help he
doubted not. Then said the countess, For the ship force no whit, save
the souls therein, and have to thee double the value of the ship.
Who, immediately hoisting the sails, with all force ran the ship
aground so near the shore as was possible. Thus, with the vehemency
of the weather and force he came withal, he burst the ship, and saved
all that was within the same, as the master of the same ship had
showed and said before.

Then the kings and princes (altering their purpose after this so
great a shipwreck) returned home again every one unto their own
lands; only Edward the king's son remained behind with his men and
ships, which the Lord had saved and preserved. Then Prince Edward
(renovating his purpose) took shipping again, and within fifteen days
after Easter arrived he at Acre, and went a-land, taking with him a
thousand of the best soldiers and most expert, and tarried there a
whole month, refreshing both his men and horses, and that in this
space he might learn and know the secrets of the land. After this, he
took with him six or seven thousand soldiers, and marched forward
twenty miles from Acre, and took Nazareth; and those that he there
found he slew, and afterward returned again to Acre. But their
enemies following after them, thinking to have set upon them at some
strait or other advantage, they were by the prince premonished
thereof, and returning again upon them, gave a charge, and slew many
of them, and the rest they put to flight. After this, about
Midsummer, when the prince had understanding that the Saracens began
to gather at Cackhow, which was forty miles from Acre, he marching
thither set upon them very early in the morning, and slew of them
more than one thousand, the rest he put to flight, and took rich
spoils, marching forward till they came to a castle named Castrum
Peregrinorum, situate upon the sea-coast, and tarried there that
night, and the next day they returned toward Acre. In the mean season
the king of Jerusalem sent unto the noblemen of Cyprus, desiring them
with speed that they would come and aid the Christians; but they
would not come, saying they would keep their own land, and go no
farther. Then Prince Edward sent unto them, desiring that at his
request they would come and join in aid with him. Who immediately
thereupon came unto him with great preparation and furniture for the
war, saying that at his commandment they were bound to do no less,
for that his predecessors were sometimes governors of their land, and
that they ought always to show their fidelity to the kings of
England. Then the Christians, being herewith animated, made a third
'viage' or 'rode,' and came as far as the fort called Vincula St.
Petri, and to St. George's; and when they had slain certain there,
not finding any to make resistance against them, they retired again
from whence they came.

When thus the fame of Prince Edward grew amongst his enemies, and
that they began to stand in doubt of him, they devised among
themselves how by some policy they might circumvent him and betray
him. Whereupon the great prince and admiral of Joppa sent unto him,
feigning himself under great deceit to become a Christian, and that
he would draw with him a great number besides, so that they might be
honourably entertained and used of the Christians. This talk pleased
the prince well, and persuaded him to finish the thing he had so well
begun by writing again; who also by the same messenger sent and wrote
back unto him divers times about the same matter, whereby no mistrust
should spring. This messenger, saith mine author, was one of the
stony-hearted, that neither feared God nor dreaded death. The fifth
time when this messenger came, and was of the prince's servants
searched, according to the manner and custom, what weapon and armour
he had about him, as also his purse, that not so much as a knife
could be found about him, he was had up into the prince's chamber;
and after his reverence done, he pulled out certain letters, which he
delivered to the prince from his lord, as he had done others before.
This was about eight days after Whitsuntide, upon a Tuesday somewhat
before night; at which time the prince was laid upon his bed
bareheaded in his jerkin, for the great heat and intemperature of the
weather.

When the prince had read the letters, it appeared by them, that upon
the Saturday next following his lord would be there ready to
accomplish all that he had written and promised. The report of these
news by the prince to the standers-by liked them well, drawing
somewhat back to consult thereof amongst themselves. In the mean
time, the messenger, kneeling and making his obeisance to the prince,
questioning further with him, put his hand to the belt, as though he
would have pulled out some secret letters, and suddenly he pulled out
an envenomed knife, thinking to have stricken him into the belly
therewith as he lay; but the prince lifting up his hand to defend the
blow, was stricken a great wound into the arm. And being about to
fetch another stroke at him, the prince again with his foot took him
sucha blow, that he felled him to the ground. With that the prince
gat him by the hand, and with such violence wrested the knife from
him, that he hurt himself therewith in the forehead, and immediately
thrust the same into the belly of the messenger and striker, and slew
him. The prince's servants, being in the next chamber not far off,
hearing the bustling, came with great haste running in, and finding
the messenger lying dead on the floor, one of them took up a stool,
and beat out his brains; whereat the prince was wroth, for that he
struck a dead man, and one that was killed before. The rumour hereof,
as it was strange, so it soon went throughout all the court, and from
thence amongst the common people; wherefore they were very heavy and
greatly discouraged. To him came also the captain of the temple, and
brought him a costly and precious drink against poison, lest the
venom of the knife should penetrate the lively blood, and in blaming-
wise said unto him, Did I not show your Grace before of the deceit
and subtlety of this people? Notwithstanding, saith he, let your
Grace take a good heart, you shall not die of this wound; my life for
yours. But straightway the surgeons and physicians were sent for, and
the prince was dressed, and within a few days after the wound began
to putrify, and the flesh to look dead and black; whereupon they that
were about the prince began to mutter amongst themselves, and were
very sad and heavy. Which thing he himself perceiving, said unto
them, Why mutter you thus amongst yourselves? What see you in me? Can
I not be healed? Tell me the truth, be ye not afraid. Whereupon one
said to him, And like your Grace you may be healed, we mistrust it
not; but yet it will be very painful for you to suffer. May
suffering, saith he again, restore health? Yea, saith the other, on
pain of losing my head. Then, said the prince, I commit myself unto
you, do with me what you think good. Then said one of the physicians,
Is there any of your nobles in whom your Grace reposeth special
trust? To whom the prince answered, Yea, naming certain of the
noblemen that stood about him. Then said the physician unto the two
whom the prince first named, the Lord Edmund, and the Lord John
Voisy, And do you also faithfully love your lord and prince? Who
answered both, Yea undoubtedly. Then saith he, Take you away this
gentlewoman and lady, (meaning his wife,) and let her not see her
lord and husband, until such a time I will you thereunto. Whereupon
they took her out of the prince's presence, crying out and wringing
her bands. Then said they unto her, Be ye contented, good lady and
madam; it is better that one woman should weep a little while, than
that all the realm of England should weep a great season. Then upon
the morrow they cut out all the dead envenomed flesh out of the
prince's arm, and threw it from them, and said unto him, How cheereth
your Grace? We promise you within these fifteen days you shall show
yourself abroad (if God permit) upon your horseback, whole and well
as ever you were. And according to the promise he made the prince, it
came to pass, to the no little comfort and admiration of all his
subjects. When the great soldan heard of it, and that the prince was
yet alive, he would scarcely believe the same; and sending unto him
three of his nobles and princes, he excused himself by them, calling
his gods to witness that the same was done neither by him nor his
consent. Which princes and messengers standing aloof off from the
king's son, worshipping him, fell flat upon the ground. You, saith
the prince, do reverence me, but yet you love me not. But they
understood him not, because he spake in English unto them, speaking
by an interpreter. Nevertheless, he honourably treated them, and sent
them away in peace.

Thus when Prince Edward had been eighteen months in Acre, he took
shipping about the Assumption of our Lady, as we call it, returning
homeward, and after seven weeks he arrived in Sicily at Trapani, and
from thence travelling through Palestina and Metmes, and so through
the midst of Apulia, till he came to Rome, where he was of the pope
honourably entertained. From thence he came into France, whose fame
and noble prowess was there much bruited among the common people, and
envied of the nobility, especially of the earl de Chalons, who sent
unto him, and required him that he might break a staff with him at
the tilt in his country. Which thing to do, for that the prince would
not diminish his honour and fame, (although he might have well
alleged a sufficient cause and excuse by means of his travel,) yet he
would not, but willingly consented thereunto; whereupon it was
proclaimed that Prince Edward, by such a day, with those that were
with him, had challenged all comers at the tilt and barriers.
Whereupon great assemblies were made in the country all about, and
divers, as well horsemen as footmen, had conjured amongst themselves,
and conspired against the Englishmen, selling their horses and armour
beforehand, and drinking one to another good success in spoiling them
whom they would take as their prisoners. Prince Edward in the mean
time sent into England for divers earls and barons, which came unto
him. When the day appointed was come, the prince had with him more
than one thousand horsemen, which were knights, besides his footmen;
but yet there were as many more on the other side, both in horsemen
and footmen. When the parties should meet, the French footmen, which
had before conspired, began both to spoil, rifle, and kill. The
Englishmen resisted and defended themselves both with bows and
slings; many of them they slew, and drave them to the gates of their
city; the other they chased over a river, where many of them were
drowned. In the mean season the earl, with fifty of his knights which
followed him, came forth and joined together so many for so many, and
a long time together they tried it with their swords, laying one at
another. At the last the earl, perceiving himself not able to match
with him at the arm's end, enclosed with him, and, taking him about
the neck, held him with his arms very strait. What mean you, my lord,
saith the prince, think you to have my horse? Yea, marry, quoth the
earl, I mean to have both thee and thy horse. Hereat Prince Edward,
being indignant, lifted up himself, and gave him such a blow, that
therewithal he, forsaking his horse, hung still about the prince's
neck, till that he shook him off to the ground. Herewith the prince,
being somewhat in a heat, left the press to take the air, thereby to
refresh himself. But when he saw the injury of the Frenchmen towards
his men, and how they had slain many of them, he then said unto them,
that they used rather the exercise of battle than of tourney. Spare
ye not therefore (saith he) from henceforth any of them all, but give
them again as good as they bring. Then they assailed to kill each
other freely on either part, and let their swords walk.

And when by this time the English footmen were again returned, and
saw the conflict of horsemen, and many other Englishmen overthrown,
they put themselves amidst the press; and some paunching the horses,
some cutting asunder the girths of the Frenchmen's saddles, they
overthrew the riders, and gave them holy bread. Then when the
foresaid earl was horsed again by some of his men and amongst the
throng, Prince Edward also rushed in amongst the thickest, and
coupled again with him; to whom he often spake and cried, that he
should yield himself as vanquished, but that he would not do.
Notwithstanding, when his strength began to fail him, he was fain to
yield himself unto a simple knight, according as Prince Edward him
bade, and all the rest of his horsemen and knights fled and saved
themselves. Howbeit, many of them in that place were slain, and our
men returned, having the victory. But when after this they thought
themselves to be quiet and at rest, they were killed of the citizens
by two and by three at once as they went in the streets. Which thing,
when the prince heard, he sent for the mayor and burgesses,
commanding them to see the same redressed, and that immediately; for
otherwise, of his knighthood he assured them, that upon the morrow he
would fire the city, and make it level with the ground. Whereupon
they went their ways, and set watchmen in divers places of the same
to keep the peace, by which means the prince and men were in safety
and quiet. Thus in this pastime of tourneying and barriers much blood
was spilt, whereupon the name of the place was changed.

From thence the prince came to Paris, and was of the French king
honourably entertained; and after certain days he went from thence
into Gascony, where he tarried till that he heard of the death of the
king his father.

In the year of our Lord 1272 died Pope Clement the Fourth: after whom
succeeded Pope Gregory the Tenth; who, in the next year following,
which was the year of our Lord 1273, called a general council at
Lyons, about the controversy between the Greek Church and the Latin
Church, and for the vacancy of the see apostolical, &c.

Having thus accomplished the life and history of King Henry the
Third, with such accidents as happened within this realm, I thought
good to adjoin unto the same some other foreign matters, not unworthy
the note, incident in other countries during the time of the said
king; namely, from the year of our Lord 1217 unto this year 1272;
which I thought the rather not to be omitted, for that, even from and
about the beginning of this king's reign, sprang up the very well-
springs of all mischief, the sects of monkish religious and other
swarms of popish orders, which with their gross and horrible
superstitions have encumbered the church of Christ ever since.

First, to omit the repetition of Pope Innocent the Third, the great
grandsire of that foul monster transubstantiation and auricular
confession, with the friars Dominic, and Franciscan friars, Thomas
Aquinas, Jacobus de Voragine, Vincentius, with Pope Honorius the
Third, coiner of the canon law, and the Cardinal Postiensis, as also
Bonaventure, Albertus Magnus, with Pope Urban the Fourth, first
founder of the feast of Corpus Christi, and procurer of the adoration
of the body of Christ in the sacrament, besides Durandus and many
more; it followeth further to be noted, that the Tartarians, about
the year 1240, issuing out of Muscovia into the parts of Polonia,
made great waste in Christendom; so much the rather, because the
princes about Polonia, being at variance amongst themselves, used
none other remedy for their defence but heaps of masses, invocation
of the dead, and worshipping of images, which indeed did nothing
relieve them, but rather increase their trouble.

The next year following, the whole nation of the Scythians, mustering
like locusts, invaded the parts of Europe with two mighty armies;
whereof the one, entering upon Polonia, made great havoc, and carried
away many Christians from thence captives; the other, overrunning
Hungaria, made no less spoil there. Add hereunto another fresh army
of Tartarians, to the number of five millions, who at the very same
time joining themselves together, entered into Muscovia and Cracovia,
and made most horrible slaughter, sparing neither sex nor age, noble
nor unnoble, within the land. From thence passing to Lower Sclavonia,
they made great spoil there also; and thinking there to win the
castle, were by the miraculous working of the Lord, at the instance
and prayers of good people, discomfited beyond all expectation of
man, by thunder and lightning falling upon them from heaven in most
terrible wise.

The same year, immediately after Easter, another army of Tartarians
were gathered against Lignitz, drawing near to Germany; by the bruit
whereof the Germans, being put in great fear, were altogether
dismayed, but yet not able to help themselves, by reason they lacked
a good guide and governor amongst them. All which came to pass,
specially by the mischievous practice of the Roman popes, raising
variance and discord among them. Notwithstanding, Henry, prince of
Polonia and Silesia, gathering a power as well as be could, did
encounter with him; but, in fine, his whole army was vanquished, and
the king himself slain. Notwithstanding which overthrow of
Christians, it pleased God to strike such a fear into the hearts of
the said Tartarians, that they durst not approach any further or
nearer into Germany, but retired for that time into their country
again; who recounting their victory, by taking each man but one ear
of every one of the Christians that were slain, found the slaughter
so great, as that they filled nine great sacks full of ears.
Nevertheless, after this, in the year 1260, the same Tartarians,
having the Muscovites to their guides, returned again into Polonia
and Cracovia, where, in the space of three months, they overran the
land with fire and sword to the coasts of Silesia; and had not the
princes of Germany put to their helping hand in this lamentable case,
they had utterly wasted the whole land of Polonia, and the coasts
thereabouts.

This year also, in the month of April, Richard, king of Almaine, died
at the castle of Berkhamsted, and was buried at the abbey of Hanes,
which he built out of the ground. The same year also at Norwich there
fell a great controversy between the monks and the citizens, about
certain tallages and liberties. At last, after much altercation and
wrangling words, the furious rage of the citizens so much increased
and prevailed, and so little was the fear of God before their eyes,
that all together they set upon the abbey and priory, and burned both
the church and bishop's palace. When this thing was heard abroad, the
people were very sorry to hear of so bold and naughty an enterprise,
and much discommended the same. At the last, King Henry, calling for
certain of his lords and barons, sent them to the city of Norwich,
that they might punish and see execution done on the chiefest
malefactors; insomuch that some of them were condemned and burnt,
some of them hanged, and some were drawn by the heels with horses
throughout the streets of the city, and after in much misery ended
their wretched lives. The same year Adam, the prior of Canterbury,
and bishop elect, in the presence of Pope Gregory the Tenth refused
to be archbishop, although he was elect. Wherefore the pope gave the
same archbishopric to Friar Robert Kilwarby, the provost of the
Preaching friars, a man of good life and great learning. He was
consecrated at Canterbury the fourth day of March by six bishops of
the same province. The same year also, at Michaelmas, the Lord
Edmund, the son of King Richard of Almaine, married the sister of
Gilbert, earl of Gloucester. Also in this year of our Lord 1273, the
sixteenth day before the kalends of December, upon St. Edmund's day,
the archbishop and confessor, died King Henry, in the six and
fiftieth year of his reign, and was buried at Westminster, leaving
after him two sons and two daughters, to wit, Edward the prince, and
Edmund, earl of Lancaster and Leicester, Beatrice, and Margaret;
which Margaret was married to the king of Scots. This King Henry in
his lifetime began the building of the church and steeple at
Westminster, but did not thoroughly finish the same before his death.



66. KING EDWARD I.
 IN the time of the death of King-Henry, Edward, his eldest son, was
absent in Gascony, as a little before you heard; yet,
notwithstanding, by Robert Kilwarby, archbishop of Canterbury, and
other bishops and nobles, he was ordained heir and successor after
his father; who, after he had heard of his father's death, returned
home to his country, and was crowned in the year of our Lord 1274,
who then laid down his crown, saying he would no more put it on,
before he had gathered together all the lands pertaining to the same.
This Edward, as he had always before been a loving and natural child
to his father, whom he had delivered out of prison and captivity; and
hearing afterward both together of the death of his son and of his
father, wept and lamented much more for his father than for his son,
saying to the French king, which asked the cause thereof, that the
loss of his child was but light; for children might after increase
and be multiplied, but the loss of his parent was greater, which
could not be recovered: so Almighty God, for the same his piety to
his father showed, rewarded him him again with great success,
felicity, and long reign; insomuch that he being young, as he was
playing at chess with a certain soldier of his, suddenly having
occasion given, rose up and went his way; who had just voided the
place, when incontinent fell down a mighty stone from the vault
above, directly upon the place where he sat, able to have quashed him
in pieces, if he had tarried never so little more. In the
preservation of whom, as I see the present hand and mighty providence
of the living God; so, in the king's order again, I note a fault or
error worthy of reprehension, for that he, receiving such a lively
benefit at the hand of the living Lord, going therefore on pilgrimage
to Walsingham, gave thanks, not to our Lord only, but rather to a
rotten block. Of the gentle nature of this courageous prince
sufficient proof is given by this one example; that what time he,
being in his disport of hawking, chanced sharply to rebuke the
negligence of one of his gentlemen, for what fault I cannot tell,
about his hawk; the gentleman, being on the other side of the river,
hearing his menacing words, was glad (as he said) that the river was
between them. With this answer, the courageous blood of this prince
being moved, upon present heat he leaped straight into the flood,
both of a swift stream and of a dangerous deepness, and no less hard
in getting out. Notwithstanding, either forgetting his own life, or
neglecting the danger present, and having a good horse, ventureth his
own death to have the death of his man. At length, with much
difficulty recovering the bank, with his sword drawn he pursueth his
provoker. Who having not so good a horse, and seeing himself in
danger of taking, reineth his horse, and returning back barehead unto
the prince, submitteth his neck under his hand to strike. The prince,
whose fervent stomach the water of the whole river could not quench,
a little submission of his man did so cool that the quarrel fell, his
anger ceased, and his sword was put up without any stroke given. And
so both returned to their game, good friends again.

In the first beginning of his reign the king had much ado in Wales,
where he had divers conflicts with the Welchmen, whom at last he
subdued, and cut down their woods, suppressed rebellions; and,
vanquishing their kings, Llewelyn and his brother, ordained his
eldest son Edward, born in the same country, to be prince of Wales.
This Llewelyn, captain of the Welchmen, here mentioned, rebelling
against King Edward, asked counsel of conjuration, what event should
come upon his attempt. To whom it was told, that he should go forward
boldly; for doubtless he should ride through Cheapside, at London,
with a crown on his head. Which so came to pass. For being slain, his
head was carried through Cheap, with a crown of silver, to London
bridge. Whereby men may learn not to seek nor stick to these vain
prophecies, which though they fall true, yet are they trains of the
devil to deceive men.

About this time was a great earthquake, and such a rot that consumed
a great multitude of sheep in the land, through the occasion, as they
say, of one scabbed sheep that came out of Spain. The king, returning
from Wales to England, ordered certain new laws for the wealth of the
realm. Among many others, this was one, that authority was given to
all mayors, bailiffs, and other officers, to see execution and
punishment of all bakers making bread under the size, with pillory.
Of millers stealing corn, with the tumbrel, &c. And within two years
after the statute of mortmain was first enacted, which is as much to
say, that no man should give unto the church any lands or rents
without a special licence of the king.

About which time also, being the seventh year of his reign, two
hundred and ninety-seven Jews for money-clipping were put to
execution. In which same year began first the foundation of the Black
Friars by Ludgate. And the town of Boston was greatly wasted the same
year with fire. The halfpenny and farthing began first to be coined
the selfsame time, which was the eighth year of his reign. The great
conduit in Cheap began the fourth year after to be made, A.D. 1284.
And the next year following the new work of the church of
Westminster, begun, as is afore premonished, in the third year of
Henry the Third, was finished, which was sixty-six years in edifying.
The Jews were utterly banished this realm of England the same time,
for which the commons gave to the king a fifteenth, &c.

After that, the country of Wales was brought in a full order and
quiet, by the hewing down of the woods, and casting down the old
holds, and building of new; which all was brought to perfect end
about the twenty-fourth year of this king's reign. Then ensued
another broil, as great or greater, with Scotland, to the great
disquiet of the king and the realm of England many years after. This
trouble first began by the death of Alexander, king of Scots, who
died without issue left alive behind him. Although Fabian, in the
seventh book of his chronicles, affirmeth, that he left three
daughters; the eldest married to Sir John Baliol, the second to
Robert Bruce, the third to one Hastings. But this in Fabian is to be
corrected, as which neither standeth with itself, and is clearly
convicted by the witness and history of Rob. Avesbury, and also of
Gisburne.

For, first, if King Alexander had left his eldest daughter married to
Sir John Baliol, then what controversy might arise among the lords
about succession, needing so diligent and anxious deciding by the
king of England? Secondly, what claim or title could the king of
Norway have to the crown of Scotland, which was one of the
challengers, claiming the said crown in the behalf of Margaret, the
niece of the foresaid King Alexander, her grandfather, if the eldest
daughter of the father had been left alive? Thirdly, what can be more
plain, when by the affirmance of the foresaid story it is testified,
that King Alexander had two wives? Of the second whereof he had no
issue. Of the first he had two children; Alexander, which died before
his father, and Margaret, married to the king of Norway, which died
also before her father, of whom came Margaret, the niece of
Alexander, and daughter to the king of Norway, afore mentioned. And
she also died in the journey between Norway and Scotland, the fourth
year after the decease of her grandfather. Wherefore, as this matter
standeth most clear, so let us now, returning from whence we
digressed, prosecute the rest that followeth. After that Alexander
thus, as is said, departed without issue, and also Margaret, his
niece, in Norway was deceased, the matter came in a great doubt among
the nobles of Scotland, especially twelve by name, to whom the right
of the crown should next pertain. After much variance among parties,
at length the election and determination of the matter was committed
to the judgment of King Edward of England; who, after sufficient
proof made to the Scots, and firm evidence brought out of all the
ancient histories both of England and Scotland, testifying from time
to time that he was chief head and sovereign of the realm of
Scotland, first, by necessity of the law, and by all their consents,
took full possession of the same; and, that done, adjudged the right
of the crown to John Baliol, who descended of the daughter of David,
earl of Huntingdon, brother to David, king of Scotland, in the days
of King Henry the Second. This Earl David had three daughters:
Isabella, married to Robert Bruce; Margaret, to Allen, earl of
Galloway; and Ellen, to Henry Lord Hastings. Allen, earl of Galloway,
had Ellen, married to Roger Quincy, earl of Winchester, constable of
Scotland; and Dorvagile, married to John Baliol, father to Edward
king of Scots.

When these things were thus finished in Scotland, and Sir John Baliol
as most rightful inheritor had received the crown of Scotland at the
hands of King Edward thankfully, and for the same in the presence of
the barony of England and of Scotland did unto the said King Edward
his homage, and sware to him fealty, the Scots with their new king
returned into Scotland, and King Edward removed again to England.

But not long after the falseness of this Scottish king soon appeared.
Who, repenting him of his homage done untruly, forsook his former
oath and promise, and made war against King Edward, through the
counsel of the abbot of Melrose. Wherefore the king with a great host
sped him into Scotland, and in process laid siege to the town of
Berwick, which the Scots did eagerly defend, not only to the
discomfiture, but also to the derision, of the king and his English
host. But, in conclusion, the Englishmen prevailed and won the town,
where were slain of the Scots the number of twenty and five thousand.
And while the king was there busied in winning other holds about the
same, he sent part of his host to Dunbar, where the Englishmen again
had the victory, and slew of the Scots twenty thousand; Gisburne
saith but ten thousand; so that very few were lost of the English
company. The king, with a great number of prisoners returning into
his realm, shortly after sped him over unto Flanders, where he
sustained great trouble by the French king, till truce for a certain
time was between them concluded. But in the mean while that King
Edward was thus occupied beyond the seas, the French king (resorting
to his practised manner) set the Scots secretly against the
Englishmen to keep the king at home. Which Scots, making themselves a
captain, named William Wallace, warred upon the borders of
Northumberland, where they did much hurt. At length the king,
returning from Bourdeaux into England, shortly upon the same took his
journey into Scotland. Where, meeting at York with his host, he
marched into the realm of Scotland, winning, as he went, towns and
castles, till at length, coming to the town of Frankirk on Mary
Magdalene's day, he met with the power of Scotland, and had with them
a sore fight, but through God's providence the victory fell to the
right cause of Englishmen; so that of the Scots were slain in the
field, as it is of divers writers affirmed, above the number of
thirty and two thousand; and of Englishmen, but barely twenty-eight
persons. Whereupon the king, again taking possession and fealty of
the whole land, returned home.

And yet the false untruth of the Scots would not thus be ruled, but
rose up in a new broil; so that the king was enforced to make his
power again the year following into Scotland, where he so suppressed
the rebellion of the lords and of the commons, that they, swearing to
the king's allegiance, presented themselves by great companies, and
put them wholly in the king's grace and mercy; so that the king,
thinking himself to be in peaceable possession, and in a great surety
of the land, caused to be sworn unto him the rulers of the boroughs,
cities, and towns, with other officers of the land, and so returned
unto Berwick, and so into England, and lastly to Westminster.

These martial affairs between England and Scotland, although they
appertain not greatly to the purpose of our story ecclesiastical, yet
so much by the way I thought briefly to touch, whereby that which
followeth in the sequel hereof might the better be understood by
these premises. As the Scots were thus warring and raging against the 
king, and saw they could not make their party good, they sent privily
to Pope Boniface for his aid and counsel; who immediately sendeth
down his precept to the king to this effect, that he should hereafter
surcease to disquiet or molest the Scots, for that they were a people
exempt, and properly pertaining to his chapel. And therefore it could
not otherwise be, but that the city of Jerusalem must needs defend
his own citizens; and, as the Mount Sion, maintain such as trust in
the Lord, &c. Whereunto the king briefly maketh answer again,
swearing with an oath, that he would to his uttermost keep and defend
that which was his right, evidently known to all the world, &c. Thus
the Scots bearing themselves bold upon the pope's message, and also
confederating themselves with the Frenchmen, passed over that year.
The next year after that, which was twenty-nine of the king's reign,
the said Pope Boniface directeth his letters again to the king,
wherein he doth vindicate the kingdom of Scotland to be proper to the
Church of Rome, and not subject to the king of England. And therefore
it was against God, against justice, and also prejudicial to the
Church of Rome, for him to have or hold dominion over the same, which
he proved by these reasons:

First, that when King Henry, the father of this king, received aid of
Alexander, king of Scots, in his wars against Simon Mountfort, he
recognised and acknowledged in his letters patents, that he received
the same of King Alexander, not of any duty, but of special favour.

Item, when the said King Alexander, coming to England, did homage to
the said King Henry, he did it, not as king of Scotland, but only for
certain lands of Tyndall and Penreth, lying in England.

Item, whereas the said King Alexander left behind him Margaret, his
heir, being niece to the king of England, and yet under age; yet the
tuition of the said Margaret was committed, not to the king of
England, but to certain lords of Scotland, deputed to the same.

Moreover, when any legacy was directed down from Rome to the realm of
England, for collecting of tenths or other causes, the said legacy
took no place in the realm of Scotland, and might well be resisted,
as it was in King Alexander's days, except another special commission
touching the realm of Scotland were joined withal. Whereby it
appeareth that these be two several dominions, and not subject under
one.

Adding furthermore, that the kingdom of Scotland first was converted
by the relics of the blessed apostle St. Peter, through the Divine
operation of God, to the unity of the catholic faith.

Wherefore upon these causes and reasons Pope Boniface, in his letters
to the king, required him to give over his claim, and cease his wars 
against the Scottish nation; and to release all such both of the
spiritualty and laity as he had of them prisoners. Also to call home
again his officers and deputies which he had there placed and
ordained, to the grievance of that nation, to the slander of all
faithful people, and no less prejudice to the Church of Rome. And if
he would. claim any right or title to the said realm, or any part
thereof, he should send up his procurators specially to the same
appointed, with all that he could for himself allege, unto the see
apostolic, there to receive what reason and right would require.

The king, after he had received these letters of the pope, assembled
a council or parliament at Lincoln; by the advice of which council
and parliament he addressed other letters responsal to the pope
again; wherein first in all reverent manner he desireth him not to
give light ear to the sinister suggestions of false reports, and
imaginers of mischief. Then he declareth out of old records and
histories, from the first time of the Britons, that the realm of
Scotland hath always from time to time been all one with England,
beginning first with Brutus, in the time of Helt and Samuel the
prophet; which Brutus, coming from Troy to this isle, called then
Albion, after called by him Britannia, had three sons: Locrinus, to
whom he gave that part of the land, called then of him Loegria, now
Anglia; Albanactus, his second son, to whom he gave Albania, now
called Scotia; and his third son Camber, to whom he gave Cambria, now
called Wales, &c.

The year following, which was from Christ 1303, the said Pope
Boniface, the eighth of that name, taking displeasure with Philip,
the French king, did excite King Edward of England to war against
him, promising him great aid thereunto. But he, as mine author saith,
little trusting the pope's false, unstable affection toward him, well
proved before, put him off with delays. Whereupon the French king,
fearing the power of King Edward, whom the pope had set against his
friendship, restored unto him again Gascony, which he wrongfully had
in his hands detained. Concerning this variance here mentioned
between the pope and the French king, how it began first, and to what
end it fell out, the sequel hereof, Christ willing, shall declare,
after that first I have finished the discourse begun between England
and Scotland.

In the year 1303 the aforesaid William Wallace, which had done so
many displeasures to the king before, continuing still in his
rebellion, gathered great multitudes of the Scots to withstand the
king, till at length the year following he was taken and sent up to
London, and there executed for the same. After which things done, the
king then held his parliament at Westminster, whither came out of
Scotland the bishop of St. Andrews, Robert Bruce, above mentioned,
earl of Dunbar, earl of Arles, and Sir John Comyn, with divers other;
the which voluntarily were sworn to be true to the king of England,
and to keep the land of Scotland to his use against all persons. But
shortly after the said Robert Bruce, who, as is said, married the
second daughter of Earl David, forgetting his oath before made unto
the king, within a year or two after this, by the counsel of the
abbot of Stone, and bishop of St. Andrews, sent up unto Pope Clement
the Fifth for a dispensation of his oath made, insinuating to him
that King Edward vexed and grieved the realm of Scotland wrongfully.
Whereupon the pope wrote unto the king to leave off such doings.
Notwithstanding which inhibition of the pope, the king prosecuting
his own right, after he had the understanding of the doings of the
Scots, and of the mischief of Robert Bruce, (who had slain with his
own hands Sir John Comyn, for not consenting with him and other lords
at his parliament,) arreared his power and strength of men, preparing
himself toward Scotland; where he, joining with the said Sir Robert
and all the power of Scotland in a plain, near unto St. John's town,
put him to flight, and so chased the Scots, that of them were slain
to the number of seven thousand. In the which victory such bishops
and abbots as were taken he sent to the pope; the temporal lords and
other Scots he sent unto London, &c. Sir Robert Bruce, after this
discomfiture, when he had thus lost both the field and his chief
friends, seeing himself not able to make his party good, fled into
Norway, where he kept his abode during the time while King Edward
lived. When this noble Edward had thus subdued the Scots, he yielded
thanks to God for his victory; and so setting the land in a quiet and
an order, he returned unto London, which was the thirty-fifth year
and last of his reign, &c.



67. QUARREL OF KING PHILIP OF FRANCE AND THE POPE

Now to return to that which I promised before, touching the variance
and grievous dissension between Philip the French king, and Pope
Boniface, the eighth of that name. After the bishopric of Rome had
been long void through the dissension of the cardinals, for the space
of two years and three months, at length Pope Celestinus was chosen
successor to Pope Nicholas the Fourth. Which Celestinus in his first
consistory began to reform the clergy of Rome, thinking to make it an
example to all other churches. Wherefore he procured to himself such
hatred among his clergymen, that this Boniface, then called
Benedictus, speaking through a reed by his chamber wall, nightly
admonished him, as it had been a voice from heaven, that he should
give over his papacy, as being a burden bigger than he could wield.

This Pope Celestine, after he had sat six months, by the treachery
and falsehood of this Boniface, was induced to give up and resign his
bishopric, partly for the voice spoken of before, partly for fear;
being told of certain craftily suborned in his chamber, that, if he
did not resign, he should lose his life. Who then after his
resignation, going to live in some solitary desert, (being a simple
man,) was vilely taken and thrust into perpetual prison by Pope
Boniface; craftily pretending that he did it not for any hatred unto
Celestine, but that seditious persons might not have him as their
head to raise up some stir in the church. And so he was brought to
his death. Wherefore this Boniface was worthily called the eighth
Nero; of whom it was rightly said, He came in like a fox, reigned
like a lion, and died like a dog.

This Pope Boniface succeeding, or rather invading, after Celestinus,
behaved himself so imperiously, that he put down princes,
excommunicated kings, such as did not take their confirmation at his
hand. Divers of his cardinals he drove away for fear; some of them as
schismatics he deposed and spoiled of all their substance. Philip,
the French king, he excommunicated for not suffering his money to go
out of the realm; and therefore cursed both him and his to the fourth
generation. Albert, the emperor, not once nor twice, but thrice,
sought at his hands to be confirmed, and yet was rejected, neither
could obtain, unless he would promise to drive the French king out of
his realm. In the factious discord in Italy between the Guelphs and
Ghibellines, which the part of a good bishop had been to extinguish,
so little he helped to quench the smoke, that he of all other was the
chiefest firebrand to increase the flame. Insomuch that upon Ash
Wednesday, when Porchetus, an archbishop, came and kneeled down
before him to receive his ashes, Pope Boniface, looking upon him, and
perceiving that he was one of the Ghibellines' part, cast his handful
of ashes in his eyes, saying, Remember, man, that a Ghibelline thou
art, and to ashes thou shalt go. This pope, moreover, ordained first
the jubilee in. Rome; in the solemnizing whereof the first day he
showed himself in his pontificalibus, and gave free remission of sins
to as many as came to Rome out of all the parts of the world. The
second day, being arrayed with imperial ensigns, he commanded a naked
sword to be carried before him, and said with a loud voice, Lo, hear
the power and authority of both the swords, &c.

From the which very year (as most stories do record) the Turks do
begin the first count of their Turkish emperors, whereof the first
was Ottomanus, as you shall hear discoursed hereafter, by God's
grace, in the history of Turks.

By this said Pope Boniface divers constitutions, extravagancies of
his predecessors, were collected together, with many of his own newly
added thereto, and so made the book called Sextus Decretalium, &c. By
whom also first sprang up pardons and indulgences from Rome.

These things thus premised of Boniface the pope, now will I come to
the occasion of the strife between him and the French king.
Concerning which matter, first I find, in the history of Nicholas
Trivet, that, in the year of our Lord 1301, the bishop of Oppanuham,
being accused for a conspiracy against the French king, was brought
up to his court, and so committed to prison. The pope hearing this,
sendeth word to the king by his legate to set him at liberty. The
French king, not daring to the contrary, looseth the bishop. But when
he had done, he dischargeth both the bishop and the legate,
commanding them to void his realm. Whereupon Pope Boniface revoketh
all the graces and privileges granted either by him or his
predecessors before to the kingdom of France; also not long after he
thundered out the sentence of his curse against him. Moreover, he
citeth all the prelates, all divines and lawyers, both civil and
canon, to appear personally before him at Rome, at a certain day,
which was the first of November. Against this citation the king again
provideth, and commandeth by strait proclamation, that no manner of
person should export out of the realm of France either gold or
silver, or any other manner of war or merchandise, upon pain of
forfeiting all their goods and their bodies at the king's pleasure;
providing withal, that the ways and passages should diligently be
kept, that none might pass unsearched. Over and besides, the said
French king defeated the pope in giving and bestowing prebends, and
benefices, and other ecclesiastical livings, contrary to the pope's
profit. For the which cause the pope writeth to the aforesaid king in
form and effect as followeth.

"Boniface, the servant of God's servants, &c. Fear God, and observe
his commandments. We will thee to understand, that thou art subject
to us both in spiritual things and temporal; and that no gift of
benefices or prebends belongeth to thee; and if thou have the keeping
of any being vacant, that thou reserve the profits of them to the
successors. But if thou have given any, we judge the gift to be void,
and call back, how far soever thou hast gone forward. And whosoever
believeth otherwise, we judge them heretics."

Unto this letter of the pope King Philip maketh answer again in
manner and order as followeth, which is this:

Philip, by the grace of God king of Francc, to Boniface, not in deeds
behaving himself for pope, little friendship or none.

"To Boniface, bearing himself for chief bishop, little health or
none. Let thy foolishness know, that in temporal things we are
subject to no man, and that the gifts of prebends and benefices, made
and to be made by us, were and shall be good, both in time past and
to come. And that we will defend manfully the possessor of the said
benefices. And we think them that believe or think otherwise fools
and madmen. Given at Paris the Wednesday after Candlemas, 1301."

These things thus discoursed and done, then followed the year of our
Lord 1304. In the which year, about the nativity of our Lady, came a
garrison of harnessed soldiers well appointed, sent partly by the
French king, partly by the cardinals of Columna, whom the pope before
had deposed, unto the gates of Arvagium, where the pope did hide
himself, because he was born in the town. The captains of which army
were one Schaira, brother to the foresaid cardinals; and another,
William de Longareto, high steward to the French king. Who, invading
the pope's town, and finding the gates open, gave assault to the
pope's frontier, where the pope with his nephew, a marquis, and three
other cardinals, were immured. The townsmen, seeing all their intent
and strength to be bent against the pope, caused the common bell to
be rung, and so, assembling themselves in a common council, ordained
Adolphus, one of the chiefest rulers of the town, for their captain;
who, unknown to them, was a great adversary to the pope. This
Adolphus bringing with him Reginald de Supine, a great lord in
Campania, and the two sons of John Chitan, a nobleman, whose father
the pope had then in prison, at length joined with the French company
against the pope, and so beset his palace on every side. And first,
setting upon the palaces of the three cardinals, which were then
chief about the pope, they rifled and spoiled all their goods. The
cardinals by a back door hardly avoided their hands. But the pope's
palace, through munition and strength of the marquis, was something
better defended. At length the pope, perceiving himself not able to
make his party good, desired truce with Schaira and his company,
which was to him granted from one till nine. During which time of
truce the pope privily sendeth to the townsmen of Arvagium, desiring
them to save his life; which if they would do, he promised so to
enrich them, that they should all have cause never to forget or
repent their benefit bestowed. To this they made answer again,
excusing themselves, that it lay not in their ability to do him any
good, for that the whole power of the town was with the captain. Then
the pope, all destitute and desolate, sendeth unto Schaira,
beseeching him to draw out in articles wherein he had wronged him,
and he would make him amends to the uttermost. Schaira to this maketh
a plain answer, signifying to him again, that he should in no wise
escape with his life, except upon these three conditions. First, to
restore again the two cardinals of Columna his brethren, whom he had
before deprived, with all other of their stock and kindred; secondly,
that after their restitution he should renounce his papacy; thirdly,
that his body should remain in his power and custody. These articles
seemed to the pope so hard, that in no case he would agree unto them;
wherefore, the time of truce expired, the captains and soldiers, in
all forcible means bending themselves against the bishop, first fired
the gates of the palace, whereby the army, having a full entrance,
fell to rifle and spoil the house. The marquis, upon hope to have his
life, and the life of his children, yieldeth him to the hands of
Schaira and the other captain; which when the pope heard, he wept and
made great lamentation. After this, through windows and doors at
length with much ado they burst in to the pope, whom they treated
with words and threats accordingly. Upon this he was put to his
choice, whether he would presently leave his life, or give over his
papacy. But that he denied stiffly to do, to die for it, saying to
them in his vulgar tongue, Lo here my neck, lo here my head;
protesting that he would never while he lived renounce his popedom.
Then Schaira went about, and was ready to slay him; but, by certain
that were about him, he was stayed; whereby it happened that the pope
received no harm, although divers of his ministers and servants were
slain. The soldiers, which ranged in the mean time through all the
corners of the pope's house, did lade themselves with such treasure
of gold, silver, plate, and ornaments, that the words of my author,
whom I follow, do thus express it; That all the kings of the earth
together were not able to disburse so much out of their treasury in a
whole year, as then was taken and carried out of the pope's palace,
and of the palace of the three cardinals and the marquis. Thus
Boniface, bereaved of all his goods, remained in their custody three
days. During which space they had set him on a wild and unbroken
colt, his face turned to the horse tail, causing the horse to run
course, while the pope was almost breathless. Moreover, they kept him
so without meat, that he was thereby near famished to death. After
the third day, the Arvagians and people of the town mustering
themselves together, (to the number of ten thousand,) secretly burst
into the house where the pope was kept, and so slaying the keepers,
delivered the pope by strong hand. Who then being brought into the
middle of the town, gave thanks with weeping tears to the people for
his life saved; promising moreover, that forasmuch as he was out of
all his goods, having neither bread nor drink to put in his mouth,
God's blessing and his to all them that now would relieve him with
any thing, either to eat or drink. And here now see what poverty and
affliction can work in a man; the pope before in all his pomp and
most ruffling wealth was never so proud, but now he was as humble and
lowly, that every poor simple man, as mine author testifieth, might
have a bold and free access to his person. To make the story short,
the pope, in that great distress of famine, was not so greedy of
their victuals as they were greedy of his blessing. Whereupon the
women and people of the town came so thick, some with bread, some
with wine, some with water, some with meat, some with one thing, some
with another, that the pope's chamber was too little to receive the
offering; insomuch that when there lacked cups to receive the wine,
they poured it down on the chamber floor, not regarding the loss of
wine to win the pope's holy blessing. Thus Pope Boniface, being
refreshed by the town of Arvagium, took his journey from thence,
accompanied with a great multitude of harnessed soldiers to Rome,
where he shortly upon the same, partly for fear which he was in,
partly for famine, partly for sorrow of so inestimable a treasure
lost, died. After whom succeeded Benedict the Eleventh. And thus have
ye the whole story of Pope Boniface the Eighth, author of the
Decretals. Which story I thought the more diligently to set forth,
that all the Latin Church might see what an author he was, whose laws
and decretals so devoutly they follow.



68. KING EDWARD I (CONTD).

Now, after the long debating of this matter between the French king
and Pope Boniface, let us proceed in our English story. About this
time, in the days of King Edward, the Church of Rome began daily more
and more to rise up, and swell so high in pride and worldly dominion,
that no king almost in his own country could do any thing but as
pleased the pope, who both had and ruled all in all countries, but
chiefly here in England, as partly by his intolerable tallage and
pillage before signified may appear, partly by his injunctions and
commandments sent down, also by his donations and reservations of
benefices and church livings; also in deposing and disposing such as
him listed in place and office to bear rule; insomuch that when the
king and the church of Canterbury in their election had chosen one
Robert Burnell, bishop of Bath, to be archbishop of Canterbury, Pope
Boniface of his own singular presumptuous authority, ruling the
matter after his pleasure, frustrated their election, and thrust in
another, named John Peckham; for among all other this hath always
been one practice of the court of Rome, ever to have the archbishop
of their own setting, or such one as they might be sure of on their
side, to weigh against the king and other, whatsoever need should
happen. To this John Peckham Pope Boniface directed down a solemn
bull from Rome, as also unto all other quarters of the universal
church. In the which bull was contained and decreed, directly against
the rule of Scripture and Christian obedience, that no church, nor
ecclesiastical person, should henceforth yield to his king or
temporal magistrate either any giving or lending, or promising of
tribute or subsidy, or portion whatsoever, of the goods and
possessions to him belonging; but should be clearly exempted and
discharged from all such subjection of tallage or subvention to be
exacted of them in the behoof of the prince and his affairs. Which
decree manifestly rebelleth against the commanded ordinance of God,
and the apostolical canon of St. Peter, and all other examples of
Holy Scripture. For as there is no word in the Scripture that
excludeth spiritual men more than temporal from obedience and
subjection of princes; so if it chance the prince in his exacting to
be too rigorous or cruel in oppression, that is no cause for the
clergy to be exempted, but to bear the common burden of obedience,
and to pray to God to turn and move the prince's mind, and so (with
prayer and patience, not with pride and disobedience) to help and
amend that which is amiss.

This bull being directed (as is said) from Rome to the archbishop of
Canterbury, and likewise through the whole universal church, under
the pope's authority, it chanced not long after the king held his
parliament at St. Edmundsbury, where was granted to him all cities
and boroughs an eighth, and of the commons a twelfth, of their goods.
Only the clergy, by virtue of his bull, stood stout, denying to pay
any thing to the king. This answer not well pleasing the king, he
willeth them to deliberate better with themselves upon the matter;
and after long advisement, so to give him answer against the next
parliament, which should be holden the next Hilary term at London.

In conclusion, the parliament came, the clergy persisteth still in
the denial of their subsidy, alleging the pope's bull for their
warrant and discharge. Whereupon the king likewise secludeth them
from under his protection and safeguard of his laws. And as
concerning the archbishop of Canterbury, above mentioned, because he
was found more stubborn than the rest, and was the inciter to the
other, he seized upon all his goods, and caused an inventory of the
same to be enrolled in the exchequer. Notwithstanding, divers of the
other bishops relented soon after to the king, and contributed the
fifth of their goods unto him, and were received again to favour.

In the life of this king's father, it was declared before how the
said King Henry the Third, father to this king, after divers wars and
commotions had with his barons, had granted certain liberties and
freedoms written and contained in Magna Charta, and in Charta de
Foresta. Concerning which matter much business happened in this
king's days also in the realm, between the king and his barons and
commons. The occasion was this: A pack of wool, which before paid but
a mark to the king, was now by this king raised up to forty
shillings. After this the king having a journey to make into
Flanders, sent to his barons and divers other to give their
attendance and service in the same, which they refused and denied to
do. Notwithstanding, the king persisting in his purpose, with such a
power as he had prepareth toward his journey. To whom, being in his
way at Winchelsea, the aforesaid earls and barons and commons sent
certain petitions contained in writing under the name of the
archbishops, bishops, abbots, and priors, earls, and barons, with the
commonalty of the realm. In which writing, first lamenting and
complaining of their afflicted state and misery, after humble manner
they desired their lord the king to redress and amend certain
grievances among them. And first they declared, in the name of the
whole commons, that the promotion or writs directed to them for their
attendance upon his Grace into Flanders was not sufficient; for that
there was no certain place in the said writs specified unto them,
whether to come for making their provision, and preparing money and
other things according to the same. And if the place had been to them
signified, yet, because none of their ancestors ever served the king
over into Flanders before, the commons, therefore, thought themselves
not bound to any service in that country. And albeit they had been so
bound thereunto, yet they were not able to do it, being so heavily
oppressed with so many tallages, taxes, tolls, customs, and prices of
corn, oats, tin, wool, leather, oxen, kine, flesh, fish, &c. And
besides all this, having no penny of wages given them to relieve
their charges. Over and besides, the lack of the king's wages not
paid them, their own poverty like a heavy burden did so miserably lie
upon them, that some of them had no sustentation, some of them were
not able to till their own ground. They alleged, moreover, that they
were not now handled after the old laws and customs of the land, as
their ancestors were wont. Many also found themselves grieved, in
that they were not used according to the articles contained in Charta
Magna; and again, that the Charta de Foresta was not observed nor
kept as it was wont to be. Wherefore most humbly they beseeched the
king, both for his own honour and for the wealth of his people, that
of these things they might find redress. For the custom, moreover, of
woo], the whole commons bewailed to the king their grief, in that for
every pack of wool was fined to the king forty shillings, and for
every sack of tosed wool seven marks. The which wool of England, as
it doth rise up to the value of half the realm, so the tollage of the
same surmounteth to the fifth part of the valuation of the whole
land. And because, therefore, the commons wished the honour and
preservation of their king, (as they were bound to do,) they thought
it not good for his Grace to sail over to Flanders, unless he had
better assurance of their fidelity, especially at this time, the
Scots being so busy; who, if they began to rebel, he being at home in
his land, much more were they like to stir, he being abroad out of
the land. And that not only for the Scots, but also for that the like
peril was to be doubted of other foreign nations and kingdoms, which
as yet were in no firm peace with England.

To these petitions the king said that he could as yet make no
resolute answer, for that some of his council was gone over already
to Flanders, some were yet at London. Notwithstanding, at his return
again from Flanders, which he trusted should be speedily, they should
then hear his answer, and know more of his mind concerning the same.
In the mean time this he required of them, to keep good rule at home
while he was forth. What answer the king had minded to make them at
his return it is uncertain, which peradventure had turned to a bloody
answer; but occasion served otherwise, and turned all to agreement.
For the Scots, with their captain, William Wallace, above specified,
in the mean time, the king being absent, invaded the realm with such
violence, that Prince Edward, the king's son, who was left to rule in
his father's stead, was forced to assemble a parliament, and to call
for the earl of Hereford, the earl of Norfolk, high marshal of
England, earl of Essex, high constable, with other earls, barons,
knights, and esquires, to treat peace and concord between his father
and them. Who, coming up to London with fifteen hundred well-armed
soldiers, and obtaining the gates of the city with their own men,
fell at length to agreement with the prince upon composition to have
the articles of Magna Charta and of Charta de Foresta confirmed; and
that by his means and mediation they might be assured of the king's
displeasure to be removed from them. The which foresaid articles of
Magna Charta, with the other articles adjoined withal, here follow
under written.

First, no tollage or subsidy by the king or his heirs to be imposed
or levied hereafter within the realm of England, without the common
assent of the archbishops, bishops, abbots, and other prelates,
earls, barons, knights, burgesses, and commons of the realm.

Item, no taker or servitor of the king, or of his heirs, henceforth
within this realm to take grain, wool, leather, or any goods of any
man, without the will and consent of him which is the owner.

No taking to be hereafter, in name of tribute, for any pack of wool.

Item, to be granted by the king and his heirs after him, both to the
clergy and laity of this foresaid realm, to have and to enjoy their
laws, liberties, and customs, in as ample manner as they were wont at
any time heretofore.

Item, if any decrees or statutes shall hereafter be made and set
forth contrary to these foresaid articles, the same to stand void and
of no effect for ever.

Besides these articles also, in the same composition was contained,
that all grudge and displeasure between the king and the barons for
not going to Flanders ceasing, the earls and barons might be assured
to be received again into the king's favour.

These things thus agreed upon, and by mediation of the prince also
confirmed and sealed with the king his father's seal, so was all the
variance pacified, to the great comfort of the people, and no less
strength of the realm against their enemies; and most chiefly to the
commendation of the gentle and wise nature of the king, who, as he
was gentle in promising his reconcilement with his subjects, so no
less constant was he in keeping that which he had promised.

After the death of John Peckham, archbishop of Canterbury, above
mentioned, who in the parliament had resisted the king in the right
of certain liberties pertaining to the crown, touching patronages and
such church matters, succeeded Robert Winchelsea, with whom also the
king had like variance, who accused him to the pope for breaking the
peace, and took part with them that rebelled against the king about
usages and liberties of the realm. Wherefore, the king being cited up
to the court of Rome, and there suspended, by the means of the said
archbishop, directed his letters again to the pope, taken out of the
parliament rolls, where I find divers letters of the king to Pope
Clement against the said Robert, archbishop of Canterbury, the
contents whereof here follow in substance. And as this king was
troubled in his time with both the archbishops, John Peckham, and
also Robert Winchelsea; so it happened to all other kings, for the
most part, from the time of Lanfranc, (that is, from Pope
Hildebrand,) that every king in his time had some business or other
with that see. As William Rufus and Henry the First were troubled
with Anselm; Henry the Second with Thomas Becket; King Richard and
all England with William, bishop of Ely, the pope's legate; King John
with Stephen Langton; King Henry the Third with Edmund, archbishop,
called St. Edmund. Likewise this King Edward the First with John
Peckham and Robert Winchelsea aforesaid. And so other kings after him
with some prelate or other. Whereby ye have to understand how and
about what time the Church of Rome, which beforetime was subject to
kings and princes, began first to take head above and against kings
and rulers, and so hath kept it ever since.

By this John Peckham afore mentioned it was ordained, that no
spiritual minister should have any more benefices than one, which
also was decreed by the constitutions of Octo and Octobonus, the
pope's legates the same time in England.

About the beginning of this king's reign, after the decease of
Walter, archbishop of York, William Wicewanger succeeding in that
see, minding to go on visitation, came to Durham to visit the church
and chapter there. But the clergy and the people of the city shut the
gates against him, and kept him out, whereupon rose no small
disturbance. The archbishop let fly his curse of excommunication and
interdiction against them. The bishop of Durham again, with his
clergy, despised all his cursings, grounding themselves upon the
constitution of Innocent the Fourth. And so they appealed to Rome,
saying that he ought not to be received there before he had first
begun to visit his own chapter and diocess, which he had not done.
For so say the words of the constitutions, "We ordain and decree,
that every archbishop that will visit his province, first must
procure to visit his own church, city, and diocess," &c.

Among other things in this king to be noted, that is not to be passed
over, that where complaint was made to him of his officers, as
justices, mayors, sheriffs, bailiffs, eschetors, and such other, who,
in their offices abusing themselves, extortioned and oppressed the
king's liege people, otherwise than was according to right and
conscience, the said king, not suffering such misorder to be
unpunished, did appoint certain officers or inquisitors, to the
number of twelve, which inquisition was called Traibaston, or
Trailbastoun; by means of which inquisition divers false officers
were accused, and such as were offenders were either removed from
their place, or forced to buy again their office at the king's hand,
to their no small loss, and great gain to the king, and much profit
to the commonwealth.

In the chronicle of Robert Amesbury, it is recorded of the said king,
that he being at Amesbury to see his mother, (who was then in that
monastery professed,) there was a certain man, that feigned himself
blind a long time, brought to the presence of the said Eleanor, the
king's mother, saying how that he had his sight again restored at the
tomb of King Henry, her late husband, insomuch that she was easily
persuaded the miracle to be very true. But King Edward her son,
knowing the man a long time to be a vile dissembler, and a wicked
person, used to lying and crafty deceiving, persuading his mother not
to give credit to the vile vagabond, declaring that he knew so well
of the justice of his father, that, if he were alive, he would twice
rather pluck out both his eyes than once restore him one.
Notwithstanding, the queen his mother, remaining still in the former
fond persuasion, would hear or believe nothing to the contrary, but
was so in anger with her son, that she bid him depart her chamber;
and so he did. By the example whereof may easily be conceived how and
after what sort these blind miracles in those days, and since, have
come up among the blind and superstitious people. For had not the
king here been wiser than the mother, no doubt but this would have
been rung a miracle, and perchance King Henry been made a saint.

But as this was a feigned miracle, and false no doubt; so in the same
author we read of another manner of miracle, sounding more near the
truth, and so much the more likely, for that it served to the
conversion unto Christian faith; to which use properly all true
miracles do appertain. The miracle was this. In the reign of this
king, and the latter year of his reign, Cassanus, king of the
Tartarians, (of whom come these whom now we call Turks,) fighting
against the soldan, king of the Saracens, in the plain of Damascus,
slew of them a hundred thousand of Saracens; and again at Babylon,
fighting with the said soldan, slew him in the field, and two hundred
thousand of the Saracens, calling upon the help of Christ, and
thereupon became Christian. This Cassanus, I say, had a brother a
pagan, who being in love with the daughter of the king of Armenia, a
Christian woman, desired of her father that he might marry with her.
Whereunto the king her father would not agree, unless he promised to
be a Christian. Notwithstanding, the other being stronger in power,
and threatening to get her by war, the king at length was forced to
agree. In conclusion, it happened that the child being born betwixt
them was overgrown and all rough with hair, like the skin of a bear;
which child being brought to the father, he commanded it to be thrown
into the fire and burnt. But the mother, desiring first to have the
child baptized, caused all things thereunto to be prepared. The
infant being three times in water plunged, after the sacrament of
holy baptism received, incontinently was altered and turned from all
his hairy roughness, and seen as fair and smooth-skinned as any
other. The which thing after the father saw and beheld, he was
christened himself, and all his house, &c.

In the reign of this king Walter Merton, bishop of Rochester, builded
Merton college in Oxford. In whose reign also lived Henricus de
Gaudano, Arnoldus de Villa Nova, Dantes, and others; also Scotus,
called Duns, who, in his fourth book of Sentences, Dist. 18,
complaineth of the abuse of excommunication and of the pope's keys.
Whereas before excommunication was not used but upon great and just
causes, and therefore was feared; now, saith he, it is brought forth
for every trifling matter, as for not paying the priests' wages, &c.,
and therefore, saith he, it groweth in contempt. Under the same king,
about the beginning of his reign, was the year so hot and so dry,
that from the month of May until the month near of September fell no
rain; insomuch that many died for heat, and the vulgar people, in
their reckoning of years, did count the time from the said dry year
long after.

After Pope Benedict above mentioned succeeded Pope Clement the Fifth,
who translated the pope's court to Avignon in France, where it
remained the term of seventy-four years after. At the coronation of
this Clement was present Philip, king of France, Charles, his son,
and Duke John, duke of Brittany, with a great number of other men of
state and nobility. At which coronation, they being in the middle of
the pomp, or procession, a great wall brake down and fell upon them;
by the fall whereof Duke John with twelve other were slain, King
Philip hurt and wounded, the pope struck from his horse, and lost out
from his mitre upon his head a carbuncle, esteemed to the value of
six thousand florins. By this Clement was ordained, that the emperor,
though he might he called king of the Romans before, yet he might not
enjoy the title and right of the emperor before he was by him
confirmed. And that the emperor's seat being vacant, the pope should
reign as emperor, till a new emperor was chosen. By him the order of
the Templars (who at that time were too abominable) was put down at
the council of Vienna, as hereafter (Christ willing) shall be
declared. He also ordained and confirmed the feast of Corpus Christi,
assigning indulgences to such as heard the service thereof. And as
Pope Boniface before heaped up the book of Decretals, called Sextus
Decretalium; so this Clement compiled the seventh book of the
Decretals, called of the same Clement the Clementines. In the time of
this pope, Henricus, the sixth of that name, emperor, was poisoned in
receiving the sacrament, by a false dissembling monk called Bernard,
that feigned himself to be his familiar friend; which was thought to
be done not without the consent of the pope's legate. The emperor,
perceiving himself poisoned, warned him to flee and escape away; for
else the Germans would sure have slain him; who although he escaped
himself, yet divers of his order after that with fire and sword were
slain.

As this Pope Clement the Fifth had well provided now, as ye have
heard, against the empire of Rome to bring it under his girdle,
insomuch that, without the pope's benediction, no emperor might take
the state upon him, &c., now he proceedeth further to intermeddle
with the empire of Constantinople. Where he first exerciseth his
tyranny and power of excommunication against Andronicus Paleologus,
emperor of Constantinople, A.D. 1306, declaring him to be a
schismatic and heretic, because he neither would nor durst suffer the
Grecians to make their appeal from the Greek church to the pope,
neither would acknowledge him for his superior, &c. Whereby it may
appear, that the Greek church did not admit the pope's superiority as
yet, nor at any time before; save only about the time of Pope
Innocent the Third, A.D. 1202, at what time the Frenchmen with their
captain Baldwin, earl of Flanders, joined together with the
Venetians, were set against the Grecians, to place Alexius in the
right of the empire of Constantinople, upon condition (as writeth
Platina) to subdue the Greek Church under the Church of Rome. Which
Alexius being restored, and shortly after slain, the empire came to
the Frenchmen, with whom it remained the space of fifty-eight years,
till the coming of Michael Paleologus, in the days of Pope Gregory
the Ninth, who restored the empire from the Frenchmen unto his
pristine state again. During all which time of the French emperors
the Greek Church was subject to Rome, as by the decretals of Pope
Gregory the Ninth may appear. Then followed after this, that the
foresaid Michael, emperor of Constantinople, being called up to a
council at Lyons, by Pope Gregory the Tenth, about the controversy of
the proceeding of the Holy Ghost, (as is above specified,) and
obedience to the Church of Rome; there, because the said Michael the
emperor did submit himself and the Grecians to the subjection of
Rome, as testifieth Baptist Egnat., he thereby procured to himself
such grudge and hatred among the Greek monks and priests, that after
his death they denied him the due hononr and place of burial. The son
of this Andronicus was Michael Paleologus above mentioned; who, as ye
have heard before, because he was constrained by the Grecians not to
admit any appellation to the bishop of Rome, was accursed by the
pope's censures for a heretic. Whereby appeareth, that the Grecians,
recovering their state again, refused all subjection at this time
unto the Church of Rome, which was the year of our Lord 1327, &c.
After this Clement the Fifth followed Pope John the Twenty-second,
with whom Louis the emperor had much trouble. After whom next in
course succeeded Pope Benedict the Twelfth. Which Benedict, upon a
time, being desired to make certain new cardinals, to this answered
again, that he would gladly so do, if he also could make a new world.
For this world (said he) is for these cardinals that be made already.
And thus much of the popes; now to return a little back to the king's
story again.

In the year of our Lord 1307, which was the thirty-fourth of the
reign of this king, in the beginning of Hilary term, the king kept a
parliament at Carlisle, where great complaints were brought in by the
nobles and ancients of the realm, concerning the manifold and
intolerable oppressions of churches and monasteries, and exactions of
money by the pope's legate William Testa, (otherwise termed Mala
Testa,) lately brought into the realm of England. The coming of which
William Testa was upon this occasion, as followeth: Pope Clement,
who, as ye heard before, had translated his court from Rome into
France, where he had been archbishop before, because he contemned to
come and remain at his own see, the princes of Rome thought him
therefore unworthy to enjoy Peter's patrimony. And so by that means,
falling into bareness and poverty, he lived only of such money of
bishops as came to him to be confirmed, and with such other shifts
and gifts. So that by this means, partly of bishops and other
religious men and persons, partly under the name of courtesy and
benevolence, partly under the pretence of borrowing, he had within
the first year 9500 marks of silver, all his other charges and
expenses, which he largely that year bestowed, clearly borne. Besides
this, he sent moreover the foresaid legate William Testa into England
with his bulls; in the which he reserved the first-fruits of the
first year of all churches being vacant at any time, or by any man,
within the realms of England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland, and also
the fruits of abbeys and priories within the said realms, &c.
Whereupon the king with his nobles, seeing the inconvenience and harm
thereof ensuing to the whole realm, in the foresaid parliament,
holden at Carlisle, withstood the said legate, charging and
commanding him by the assent of the earls and barons, that henceforth
he should abstain from all such exactions. And as concerning his lord
the pope, he would direct certain his messengers unto him purposely
for the same matter appointed; by the which ambassadors the king
wrote unto the aforesaid pope, declaring and admonishing the pope, as
right and reason was, that he should not exact the first-fruits of
churches and abbeys, by his predecessors and noblemen of the land,
founded for the honour and maintenance of God's service, for alms and
hospitality; which otherwise, in so doing, should all be overthrown.
And so by this means the pope at that time changed his purpose as
concerning abbeys. But after that the fruit of English churches was
granted to the king for two years, in which space he obtained the
fruits of the foresaid churches, &c.

During the which parliament afore specified, as men were talking many
things of the pope's oppressions, which he began in the English
church, in the full of the parliament suddenly fell down, as sent
from heaven, among them a certain paper, with this superscription.

An epistle of Cassiodorus to the Church of England, concerning the
abuses of the Romish Church.

"To the noble Church of England, serving in clay and brick as the
Jews did in time past under the tyranny of the Egyptians; Peter, the
son of Cassiodore, a catholic soldier, and devout champion of Christ,
sendeth greeting, and wishing it to cast off the yoke of bondage, and
to receive the reward of liberty.

"To whom shall I compare thee, or to whom shall I liken thee, O
daughter of Jerusalem? To whom shall I match thee, O daughter of
Zion? Great is thy perturbation, like unto the sea. Thou sittest
alone without comfort all the day long, thou art confounded and
consumed with heaviness. Thou art given up into the hands of him from
whence thou canst not rise without help of one to lift thee up; for
the scribes and Pharisees, sitting upon the chair of Moses, the
enemies of the Romans are as thy heads and rulers; enlarging their
guarded phylacteries, and seeking to be enriched with the marrow of
thy bones, laying heavy burdens, and not able to be borne, upon thy
shoulders, and of thy ministers, and they set thee under tribute,
(which of old time hast been free,) beyond all honesty or measure.
But marvel not thereat, for thy mother, which is the lady of people,
like a widow having married and coupled herself to her subject, hath
appointed him to be thy father; that is to say, the bishop of Rome,
who showeth no point of any fatherly love towards thee. He magnifieth
and extendeth to the uttermost his authority over thee, and by
experience he declareth himself to be the husband of thy mother. He
remembereth oft with himself the prophetical saying of the prophet,
and well digested the same in the inward part of his breast: Take to
thee a great book, and write therein quickly with the pen of a man:
take the spoil, rob quickly. But is this it which the apostle saith
that he was appointed for, where he writeth thus? Every bishop, taken
from among men, is appointed for men in those things that belong to
the Lord; not to spoil, nor to lay on them yearly taxes, nor to kill
men, but to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins, and to sorrow with
them that be ignorant and do err. And so we read of Peter the fisher,
(whose successor he boasteth himself to be,) that after the
resurrection of Christ he returned with other apostles to the office
of fishing; who when he could take nothing on the left side of the
ship, at the bidding of Christ turned to the right side, and drew to
the land a net full of fishes. Wherefore the profitable ministry of
the church is to be exercised on the right side, by the which the
devil is overcome, and plenty of souls be lucrified and won to
Christ. But certainly the labour on the left side of the ship is far
otherwise; for in it the faith stumbleth, heaviness beareth rule,
when that thing that is desired by seeking is not found. For who is
so foolish to think that he can both at one time serve God and man,
and to satisfy his own will, or to stick to the revelations of flesh
and blood, and to offer worthy gifts to Christ? And doubtless that
shepherd that watcheth not for the edifying of the flock, prepareth
another way to the roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. And now
behold, I say, O daughter, the deeds of him that is called thy
father, such as have not been heard of before; he driveth away the
good shepherd from the sheepfold, and placeth in their stead bishops
to rule, but not to profit, his nephews, cousins, and parents; some
that know no letters, and other some dumb and deaf, which understand
not the plain voice of the sheep, not curing their wounds that be
hurt of the wolves; but, like hirelings, plucking off the fleeces
apace, and reaping that which other men have sown; whose hands
moreover be always ready in their baskets and pouches, but their
backs are turned from their burdens. By which thing it is manifest
that the priesthood is clean changed at these days, the service of
God decayed, alms diminished and brought to nought, the whole
devotion of kings, princes, and Christians is banished. May not this
be thought wonderful in the eyes of all men, that whereas Christ
commanded tribute to be paid to kings for him and for Peter, he now
goeth about by dominion of his style to subdue to him both realms,
and princes of realms, against his will, whose vicar he saith he is,
and who refused the realms and judgments of the world, which this
bishop contrariwise challengeth, claiming all that which he in his
style writeth to be his? Alack, O daughter, what doth he yet more
against thee? Mark, he draweth from thee whatsoever pleaseth him, and
yet he thinketh not himself content to have the tenth part only of
thy goods from thee, except he have also the first-fruits of the
benefices of the ministers, whereby he may get a new patrimony, as
well for himself as for his kindred, contrary to the godly wills of
the first founders. Over and besides all this, he inferreth other
execrable taxes and stipends for his legates and messengers, whom he
sendeth into England; which not only take away the feeding and
clothing of thee and thine, but also tear in pieces like dogs your
flesh and skins. May not this prince be compared to King
Nebuchadnezzar, which destroyed the temple of the Lord, and robbed
away the silver and golden vessels thereof? The very same doth this
man also; he robbed the ministers of God's house, and left them
destitute of due help. In like manner doth he. Truly they be better
that are killed with the sword, than they which be pined with hunger;
for they are dead straight, but these are wasted with the barrenness
of the earth. O daughter, all they that pass by, let them have pity
and compassion on thee, for there is no sorrow like thy sorrow. For
now thy face is blacker than coals, through much sorrow and weeping,
and thou art no more known in the streets; thy foresaid ruler hath
placed thee in darkness, and.hath given thee wormwood and gall to 
drink. O Lord, hear the sorrow and sighings of thy people; behold,
Lord, and descend, for the heart of this foresaid man is more
indurate than the heart of Pharaoh. For he will not suffer the people
to depart, except in the fortitude only of thy hand. For he scourgeth
them not only miserably upon the earth, but also after their death he
intendeth to encroach the goods of all Christians under the name and
title of dying intestate, or making no will. Therefore let the
chivalry of England well remember, how the Frenchmen in times past,
directing their greedy eyes on the realm of England, laboured with
all their, power how to bring the same under their subjection. But it
is to be feared, lest the new devices and practice of this new enemy
supply that which hitherto hath been lacking in them. For in
diminishing of the treasure of the realm, and spoiling of the
church's goods, the realm shall be brought into such inability, that
it shall not be able to help itself against the enemy. Therefore, O
daughter, and you the ministers thereof, suffer not yourselves to be
led any more into such miserable bondage. Better it is for the wealth
of thee and thine, that the Christian king and the powers of the
realm, which have endued thee with great benefits, and you also which
are endued with their benefits, do labour with all your power how to
resist the devices, conspiracies, arrogancy, presumption, and pride
of the foresaid person; who not for any zeal of God, but for the
enriching of his parents, and for his own kindred, (exalting himself
like an eagle,) by these and such other exactions goeth about, after
another kind of extortion, to scrape up and devour all the money and
treasure of England. Now, lest the dissembled simplicity of the realm
in this behalf do bring utter subversion, and afterward be compelled
to seek remedy when it is too late, I beseech the Lord God of hosts
to turn away the veil from the heart of that man, and to give him a
contrite and a humble mind, in such sort as he may acknowledge the
ways of the true God, whereby he may be brought out of darkness, and
be enforced to relinquish his old sinister attempts; and that the
vineyard which the Lord's hand hath planted may be replenished
continually with the preachers of the word. Let the words of the
Lord, prophesied by the mouth of Jeremiah, stir up your minds to
withstand and resist the subtle practices of this man, by the which
words the Lord speaketh: O thou pastor which hast scattered my
people, and bast cast them out of their habitations, behold, I will
come and visit upon thee, and upon the malice of thy studies; neither
shall there be any of thy seed which shall sit upon the seat of
David; neither which shall have power any more in Judah. So that thy
nest shall become barren, and utterly subverted, like Sodom and
Gomorrah.

"And if he, being terrified by these words, do not leave off from
this which he beginneth, and doth not make restitution of those
things which he hath received, then let all and singular persons sing
for him, being indurate, to Him that seeth all things, Psal. cviii.,
Deus laudum, &c. For truly, as favour, grace, benevolence, remitteth
and neglecteth many things; so again the gentle benignity of man,
being too much oppressed and grieved, seeking to be delivered and
freed from the same, striveth and searcheth to have the truth known,
and casteth off that yoke by all means possible that grieveth him,"
&c.

What effect this letter wrought in them to whom it was directed is
not in story expressed. This by the sequel may be conjectured, that
no reason or persuasion could prevail, but that the pope retained
here still his exactions, whatsoever was said or written to the
contrary notwithstanding.

And thus much being written hitherto of these acts and doings here in
England, now to slip a little into the matters happening the same
time in France, under the reign of the foresaid King Philip above
mentioned; forasmuch as about this time, A.D. 1307, was commenced a
parliament by the said king of France against the pope, touching the
jurisdiction both temporal, pertaining to princes, and
ecclesiastical, belonging to the church, I thought it not
unprofitable for the reader to hear and learn the full discourse and
tractation hereof, according as we have caused it to be excerpt
faithfully out of the true copy and records of Peter Bertrand, bishop
of Edven, and chief doer and prolocutor in the said parliament upon
the pope's side, against the king and state temporal.

Forasmuch as the high prelate of Rome, otherwise called antichrist,
being then in his chief ruff, extolling himself above all princes and
potentates of the world, as in other countries, so also in France,
extended his usurped jurisdiction above the princely authority of the
king, claiming to himself full government of both the states, as well
secular as also ecclesiastical; the king therefore, not suffering the
excessive proceedings of Pope Clement the Fifth, above specified,
directeth his letters mandatory to the prelates and barons of the
realm of France, to convent and assemble themselves together at
Paris, about the beginning of December, the year above, prefixed; the
tenor of which letters of the king directed to the prelates followeth
in this form and manner.

"Philip, by the grace of God king of France, to our well beloved
bishop of Edven, greeting and salutation. Reverend father in God,
right trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well. The more sight and
knowledge you have in divinity and the Holy Scriptures of God, with
the practice and experience of other good qualities and virtues, you
know the better a great deal how that the clergy and laity of this
our realm (as members of one body) ought to cleave and stick
together; and how by their helping hand unity and peace should be
maintained of all, and the contrary eschewed and avoided, every state
contenting itself, and not encroaching one upon another. And because
we are advertised, how that our barons and officers (as well in time
past as of late) have diversly in divers points injured you, as
semblably you and yours in many causes have wrongfully damaged them;
by occasion whereof the knot of unity and concord, which ought to
have flourished among you, is quite loosed and undone: to the end
therefore, by God's grace, some good reformation and redress may be
had herein, we, most studious of unity and concord, require you, and
by these our letters command you, to appear personally before us at
Paris the fifteenth day of December next ensuing the date hereof, and
there before us to make relation of such wrong as ye have received at
the laity's hands. And we likewise straitly charge and command you,
our barons, bailiffs, and officers, not to fail, but to make your
personal appearances before us the day and place above written, and
there to exhibit before us a bill of such complaints wherewith you
burden our prelates and clergy, with their officials; that we, with
our council, consulting thereupon with due regard, may see redress
therein; whereby perpetual love and charity may ever hereafter reign
and remain among them for ever. Given at Paris the first day of
September, A.D. 1309."

At the day in the letters above specified the prelates and clergy
assembled themselves before the king at his palace in Paris; that is
to say, the Lord Bituricen, the lord of Auxitan, the Lord Turonen,
the Lord Rothom, and the Lord Senon, all archbishops; the Lord
Belvacen, the Lord Cathalen, the Lord Laudun, the lord of Paris, the
Lord Novionon, the Lord Carnoten, the Lord Constan, the Lord
Andegaven, the Lord Pictaven, the Lord Melden, the lord of Cameracen,
the lord of St. Feri, the Lord Brioce, the lord of Cabilion, and the
lord of Edven, all bishops. Where, after due reverence done unto the
king's Grace, there sitting in his own person, with his barons and
council about him, a certain noble and wise person, Lord Peter de
Cugneriis, (being one of the king's council,) rose up, and openly in
the parliament house spake in the king's behalf on this wise, taking
for his theme, Give and render unto Cæsar that which is his, and unto
God that which is God's; which he very artificially prosecuted and
applied, dividing it into two parts. First, that obedience and
reverence is due unto the king. Secondly, that there ought to be a
difference between the jurisdiction of the clergy and laity, so that
spiritual matters should be defined and ordered by the prelates and
spiritual men, and temporal causes ruled and determined by the king,
his barons, and temporal men. Which all he proved by many reasons
both of fact and law, as more fully appeareth beneath in the answer
of the bishop of Edven. Finally, he concluded, that the clergy ought
only to deal and have to do with spiritual matters; in defence
whereof the king's Highness would stand their good lord and
maintainer. His oration being ended, he repeated certain words in the
French tongue, which imported that the king's will and pleasure was
in some points to renew the temporal state and jurisdiction; and
therewith he exhibited a certain bill in French, whereof also he gave
a copy to the prelates, containing certain points and articles under-
written; the contents whereof he affirmed not to appertain to the
order and jurisdiction of the spiritualty, but only to the
temporally, complaining that the clergy had wrongfully proceeded in
the same. But notwithstanding the premises, and for all this his
complaint, he said that the prelates should have time to consult and
deliberate thereupon with the king.

After the Lord Peter had thus spoken, the prelates required to have
time to answer thereunto. Whereupon the Friday next ensuing was
appointed for the same. On the which day the bishop Edven, and
archbishop of Senon elect, in the name of the whole clergy answered
for them all before the king, holding his parliament as that day at
Vicenas.

In the said session the aforesaid bishop of Edven, prolocutor,
inferred many things beside, and answered particularly to the
articles above specified, and exhibited by the Lord Peter in writing
to the king and parliament; which, because they touch more the
subtilty of the law and styles of the courts than are necessary to
this our history, and because we would not burden the volume with
them, they containing no great profit in them, we have here of
purpose, for brevity's sake, omitted them, passing to the next
sitting, which was the Friday next following the same, as ensueth.

The next Friday after this the prelates assembled at Vicenas before
the king to hear their answer; where the foresaid Lord Peter of
Cugneriis, being prolocutor for the king, spake on this wise, taking
for his theme, I am peace unto you, do not fear, &c. Which he
prosecuted, admonishing that they should not be troubled in any thing
that there had been spoken; for that the intent and mind of the
sovereign lord their king was, to keep the rites of the church and
prelates, which they had by law and by good and reasonable custom;
where, between the first and second conclusion, he went about to
prove, that the cognition of civil causes ought not to appertain to
the church; for that such things were temporal, and ought to pertain
to the temporally, as spiritual things to the spiritually. And
besides his other reasons, he alleged the declaring for a truth, that
for this intent first the clerks' crowns were shaven, in sign that
they should be free from all worldliness, and forsake all temporal
things. Furthermore, he declared, that the bishops had cognition in
certain cases expressed by law. Wherefore these said cases ministered
a certain rule against him. Also he affirmed, that, by reason of sin,
the decretal Novit. could not make for them. For the same did speak
of the king of France's state, which hath no superior; but in other
persons it was, he said, otherwise. And these things thus being
proved, then said he, and concluded, That nevertheless their lord and
king was ready to hear the information of them which would instruct
him of any custom; and those customs which were good and reasonable
he would observe. Which answer, because it did not seem to please and
suffice the prelates, incontinently the bishop Edven answered for
them all in manner following. First, commending the good and general
answer, he spake in this wise: The prince of the people (said he)
shall be praised for the prudence of his talk, commending therewith,
as touching the former good general answer of the king, his purpose
and talk propounded. But as concerning the words of the Lord Peter,
which engendered and brought darkness and obscurity, and might give
occasion to the temporal lords to break and infringe the rites and
customs of the church, his answer seemed not full and plain to the
prelates. Speaking, moreover, to the said Peter, he alluded to the
words of the Virgin speaking in the Scripture thus to her Son; Son,
why did you so to us? And so he prosecuted the same, both marvelling
with himself, and yet covertly complaining of his answer. Afterward,
answering to those things which the Lord Peter affirmed, and first to
the chapter, ad verum, he said, that it was before answered, touching
the division of the two jurisdictions, that they may be in one
subject, as before is proved. Neither doth it let which the Lord
Peter said, that these two jurisdictions could not be in one subject,
because that things which be in themselves diverse, and be under one
genus, as a man and an ass, cannot be in one subject. But if they
were under divers kinds, as whiteness and sweetness in milk, they
might be well in one subject. It was answered, that this rule was not
true, because justice and temperance are two diverse virtues, and
under one kind, and yet be in one subject. Besides these differing
species, a man and an ass be not compatible in one subject. Also to
that which was spoken concerning the shaving of the crown, it was
answered, that the crown did betoken rule and excellency; and the
shaving did signify, that they ought not to heap up store of temporal
things so to apply their hearts thereunto; but that the temporal
things ought to be subject to them, and not they to the temporalty,
as is proved in the said chapter, duo sunt genera. Also as concerning
the thing which was talked of de regula, he answereth, that this
maketh for the church, as before was proved, yea also, the custom
doth make the rule for the church. Also laws in all kind of sense do
always except the custom. And, therefore, his saying makes nothing
against it. And now to that place which the Lord Peter spake about
the decretal Novit., that the case was only in the king's person; yet
for all that it is expressly said in the same text, of every
Christian man. And although their law doth speak only of the pope,
yet the same is applied to all bishops in their diocese. Wherefore
the said bishop concluded and beseeched the king that it would please
his Grace to give unto them a more plain and comfortable answer, and
that they might not depart from his presence all pensive and sad,
whereby occasion might be given to the laity to impugn the rights and
liberties of the church; and that they doubted nothing hereof in the
good nature and conscience of their sovereign lord and king. In the
end it was answered to them in the behalf of the king, that his mind
and intent was not to impugn the customs of the church.

The Sunday following the bishops assembled themselves again before
the king at Vicenas, where the lord bishop of Edven repealed their
last supposition, with the last answer made unto them in the behalf
of the king, when the bishop of Byturien had given them to understand
how the king willed them not to fear, for that they should suffer no
hinderance or damage in his time; yea, and he would defend them in
their rites and customs, because it should not be said that he would
give ensample to other to impugn the church, assuring them that even
the king's Grace willed him so to declare unto them. The said lord
bishop of Senon in the name of the whole prelates gave humble thanks
to the king therefore, and the said bishop of Senon beseeched that
such proclamations, which were made to the prejudice of the
ecclesiastical jurisdiction, might be repealed and called in.
Hereunto the king himself answereth with his own mouth, that they
were not published at his commandment, neither did he know of them
nor ratify them. Thirdly, the bishop proposed, that those abuses
which the temporalty complained of should be so ordered and reformed,
that every man should be well contented therewith. Last of all, he
beseeched the king's Highness that he would of his gracious goodness
give them a more comfortable and fuller answer. Then answered the
Lord Peter in the name of the king, That if the prelates and bishops
would see reformation of those things which were to be amended,
whereabouts he would take respite between this and Christmas next
following, his Grace would innovate nothing in the mean season. And
if in the foresaid space they would not correct and reform that which
was amiss, his Majesty would appoint such order and remedy, that
should be acceptable both to God and his subjects. After this, the
prelates had leave of the king to depart, and went home.

And thus much concerning French matters, which, because they be
ecclesiastical, and bear with them some utility to the diligent
reader, such as list to search, note, and observe the acts of men,
and course of religion, I thought, therefore, here to place and
adjoin them next after the other contention before proceeding between
Philip, the French king, and Pope Boniface. Albeit, as touching the
perfect keeping of years and time, I am not ignorant that this
aforesaid parliament, thus summoned and commenced against the French
prelates, falling in the year of our Lord 1329, was to be referred
rather to the reign of King Edward the Second, of whom now remaineth,
by the grace of Christ, in order of history to prosecute, declaring
first the instructions and informations of his father given to hint
in the time of his departing. The year of our Lord 1307, and the last
year of the king, the foresaid King Edward, in his journey marching
towards Scotland, in the north fell sick of the flux, which increased
so fervently upon him, that he despaired of life. Wherefore, calling
before him his earls and barons, he caused them to be sworn, that
they should crown his son Edward in such convenient time after his
death as they might, and keep the land to his use till he were
crowned. That done, he called before him his son Edward, informing
and lessoning him with wholesome precepts; and he charged him also
with divers points upon his blessing: first, that he should be
courteous, gentle, upright in judgment, fair spoken to all men,
constant in deed and word, familiar with the good, and especially to
the miserable to be merciful. After this, he gave him also charge not
to be too hasty in taking his crown, before he had revenged his
father's injuries stoutly against the Scots; but that he should
remain in those parts to take with him his father's bones, being well
boiled from the flesh; and so, being enclosed in some fit vessel,
should carry them with him till he conquered all the Scots; saying,
that so long as he had his father's bones with him none should
overcome him. Moreover, he willed and required him to love his
brothers Thomas and Edmund; also to cherish and tender his mother
Margaret, the queen. Over and besides, he straitly charged him upon
his blessing, (as he would avoid his curse,) that he should in no
case call to him again, or send for Peter Gaveston; which Peter
Gaveston the king before had banished the realm, for his naughty and
wicked familiarity with his son Edward, and for his seducing of him
with sinister counsel. For the which cause he banished both Peter
Gaveston utterly out of the realm, and also put the said Edward his
son in prison. And therefore so straitly he charged his son in no
wise to send for this Gaveston, or to have him in any case about him.
And finally, because he had conceived in himself a vow to have
returned in his own person to the Holy Land, (which for his manifold
wars with the Scots he could not perform,) therefore he had prepared
thirty-two thousand pounds of silver, for the sending of certain
soldiers with his heart unto the Holy Land. Which thing he required
of his son to see accomplished; so that the aforesaid money, under
his curse and malediction, be not employed to other uses. But these
injunctions and precepts the disobedient son did nothing observe or
keep after the decease of his father. Who, forsaking and leaving off
the war with the Scots, with all speed hasted him to his coronation.
Also, contrary to the mind of his nobles, and against the precept of
his father, he sent for the aforesaid Peter Gaveston, and prodigally
bestowed upon him all that treasure which his father had bequeathed
to the Holy Land. He was moreover a proud despiser of his peers and
nobles; and therefore reigned unfortunately, as by the sequel of the
story here following, by the grace of Christ, shall be declared. Thus
King Edward, first of that name, leaving behind him three sons,
Thomas and Edmund by his third wife, and Edward by his first wife,
whom he had sufficiently thus with precepts instructed, departed this
mortal life, A.D. 1307, after he had reigned near thirty-five years.

In the time and reign of this king many other things happened which
here I omit to speak of, as the long discord and strife between the
prior of Canterbury and the prior of Dover, which continued above
four years together, with much wrangling and unquietness between
them. Likewise another like contention growing between John Romain,
archbishop of York, and the archbishop of Canterbury, upon this
occasion; that when John, archbishop of York, after his consecration
returned from the pope, coming to Dover, contrary to the inhibition
of Canterbury, he passed through the middle of Kent, with his cross
borne up, although the story reporteth that he had the king's consent
thereunto, A.D. 1286.

Item, between Thomas, bishop of Hereford, and John Peckham,
archbishop of Canterbury, fell another wrangling matter, in the tine
of this king. Which bishop of Hereford, appealing from the archbishop
to the pope, went up to Rome, and in his journey died. Who with less
cost might have tarried at home, A.D. 1282.



69. KING EDWARD II.
 EDWARD, the second of that name, and son of Edward the First, born,
as is aforesaid, at Carnarvon in Wales, after the departure of his
father, entered the government of the land, A.D. 1307; but was not
crowned before the next year following, A.D. 1308, by reason of the
absence of Robert Winchelsea, who was banished by King Edward the
First. Whereupon the king this present year writeth to the pope for
the restitution of the said archbishop, for that, by an ancient law
of the realm, the coronation of the king could not otherwise proceed
without the archbishop of Canterbury. Which Edward, as he was
personable in body and outward shape, so in conditions and evil
dispositions much deformed; as unstedfast of his word, and light to
disclose secrets of great counsel; also, refusing the company of his
lords and men of honour, he much haunted among villains and vile
personages; given moreover to overmuch drinking, and such vices as
thereupon be wont to ensue. And as of his own nature he was to the
said vices disposed, so was he much worse by the counsel and
familiarity of certain evil-disposed persons, as first of Peter, or
Pierce, Gaveston, before touched. Then, after him, of the two
Spensers and other, whose wanton counsel he following, gave himself
to the appetite and pleasure of his body; nothing ordering his
commonwealth by gravity, discretion, and justice; which thing caused
first great variance between him and his nobles, so that shortly he
became to them odious, and in the end was deprived of his kingdom. In
the first year he took to wife Isabel, daughter of Philip, king of
France; with whom (the year after) he was crowned at Westminster by
the bishop of Winchester, for that Robert Winchelsea, archbishop of
Canterbury, was yet in exile not returned home. Notwithstanding, the
barons and lords made first their request to the king to put Peter
Gaveston from him, or else they would not consent to his coronation.
Whereupon he was enforced to grant them at the next parliament to
have their requests accomplished, and so he was crowned. In the mean
season, the foresaid Peter, or Pierce, bearing himself of the king's
favour bold, continued triumphing and setting at light all other
states and nobles of the realm, so that he ruled both the king and
the realm, and all things went as he would; neither had the king any
delight else, or kept company with any, but with him; with him only
he brake all his mind, and conferred all his counsels. This, as it
seemed strange unto the lords and earls, so it inflamed their
indignation so much against this Peter, that, through the exciting of
the nobles, the bishops of the land did proceed in excommunication
against the said Gaveston, unless he departed the land. Upon the
occasion whereof the king, the same first year of his reign, being
grieved with the bishops, writeth to the pope, complaining that they
had proceeded to excommunication of the said Peter, unless he
departed the realm within a time certain. The which letter of the
king, what answer again it had from the pope, I find not set down in
story. Over and besides, it befell in the said first year of the
king, that the bishopric of York being vacant, the king gave the
office of the treasure to one of his own clerks; whereof the pope
having intelligence writeth to the king, commanding him to call back
the same gift, and withal citeth up to Rome the said clerk, there to
answer the matter to a nephew of one of his cardinals, upon whom he
had bestowed the said dignity; whereunto the king maketh answer:
"That if such citations and the execution of the same should proceed
to the impeachment of our kingly jurisdiction, and to the prejudice
of our lawful inheritance, and the honour of our crown, (especially
if the deciding of such matters which principally concern our estate
should be prosecuted in any other place than within this our realm,
by any manner of ways, &c.,) certes, although we ourselves would wink
thereat, or through sufferance permit matters so to pass our hands;
yet the states and nobles of our kingdom, who upon allegiance are
obliged and sworn to the protection and defence of the dignity of the
crown of England, will in no wise suffer our right and the laws of
the land so to be violated."

Besides this, the aforesaid pope wrote to the king, complaining that
by certain counsellors of King Edward his father, lying sick, utterly
ignorant thereof, a certain restraint was given out, charging his
nuncios and legates, whom he had sent for the gathering of the first-
fruits of the benefices vacant within the realm, not hereafter to
intermeddle therewith, &c. Whereunto the king maketh answer:

"Most holy father, it hath been given you to understand otherwise
than the truth of the matter is; for most true it is indeed that the
foresaid inhibition was ratified by good act of parliament, holden at
Karlin, upon certain causes concerning the execution of such
collections, (the said our father not only being not ignorant, but
also witting, willing, and of his own mere knowledge agreeing to the
same,) in the presence not only of his own earls, barons, states, and
commons of the realm, but also your legates and liegers being called
thereunto."

Item, upon other letters brought from the pope to the king, for the
installing of one Peter de Sabaudia his kinsman into the bishopric of
Worcester, being then vacant, and withal requiring that if the said
Peter would not accept thereof, the election should be referred to
the prior and convent of the same place; the king therewith grieved,
maketh answer by his letters to the pope and sundry his cardinals:
"That forasmuch as elections of prelates, to be placed in cathedral
churches within his kingdom, are not to be attempted without his
licence first had and obtained;" therefore he could not abide that
any such strange and unaccustomed reservations should or could take
place in his realm without manifest prejudice of his kingly estate;
requiring further, that he would not cause any such novelties to be
brought in into his kingdom, contrary to that which his ancestors
before him have accustomed to do.

Thus the time proceeded, and at length the parliament appointed came,
A.D. 1310, which was the fourth of this king's reign. The articles
were drawn by the nobles to be exhibited to the king, which articles
were the same contained in Magna Charta and in Charta de Foresta
above specified, with such other articles as his father had charged
him with before; to wit, that he should remove from him and his court
all aliens and perverse counsellors; and that all the matters of the
commonwealth should be debated by common counsel of the lords, both
temporal and spiritual; and that he should stir no war out of England
in any other foreign realm without the common assent of the same, &c.
The king perceiving their intent to be, as it was indeed, to sunder
Peter Gaveston from his company, and seeing no other remedy, but
needs he must yield and grant his consent, agreed that the said
Gaveston should be banished into Ireland. And so the parliament
breaking up, the lords returned to their own well appeased; although
of the other articles they could not speed, yet that they had driven
Peter Gaveston out of the realm at this time it did suffice them.

This Peter Gaveston was a certain gentleman's son of Gascony; whom
being young King Edward the First, for the good service his father
had done him in his wars, received to his court, and placed him with
his son Edward, now reigning. Who, in process of time growing up with
him, incensed and provoked him to much outrage and wantonness. By
whose occasion first he began, in his father's days, to break the
park of Walter bishop of Chester, then chancellor of England, and
after executor to the king; for the which so doing the king, as is
partly touched before, imprisoned his son, and condemned this Peter
to perpetual banishment. Notwithstanding the young king, after the
death of his father, as ye have heard, sent for this Gaveston again.
And withal he so persecuted this fore-said bishop, that he clapped
him in the Tower, and seized upon all his goods. Moreover, he caused
most strait inquisition to be made upon him for guiding his office,
wherein if the least crime might have been found, it would have cost
him his life.

And thus much of Peter Gaveston, and of his origin. Now to the
matter.

The king, thus separated from his old compeer, (that is, from the
company of Peter Gaveston, now exiled into Ireland,) continued in
great mourning and pensiveness, seeking by all means possible how to
call him home again, and conferring with such as were about him upon
the same; who did insinuate to the king, that forasmuch as the earl
of Gloucester was a man well loved and favoured in all the realm, if
a marriage might be wrought betwixt his sister and Peter Gaveston, it
might be a mean both for him to obtain more friendship, and for the
king to have his desire. To make short, Peter Gaveston in all haste
was sent for, and the marriage, through the king's procuring,
proceeded between the earl's sister and the foresaid Peter, albeit
sore against the earl's mind. Gaveston, thus restored and dignified,
was so surprised in pride and exaltation more than ever before, that
he disdained and derided all other, whose rule and power more and
more increased. Insomuch that he, having the guiding of all the
king's jewels and treasure, conveyed out of the king's jewel-house at
Westminster a table and a pair of tressels of gold unto merchants
beyond sea, with other jewels more, to the great impoverishing both
of the king and queen, and of the land. And over all that, he brought
the king, by mean of his wanton conditions, to manifold vices, as
adultery, and such other like. Wherefore the lords, seeing the
mischief that daily increased by occasion of this unhappy man, took
their counsel together at Lincoln, and there concluded to void him
again out of England; so that shortly after he was exiled again, and
went into Flanders; for in France or his own country he durst not
appear, for fear of Philip, the French king, to whom the queen of
England his daughter had sent over great complaints, of the said
Gaveston; who had so impoverished her and the whole court, that she
had not wherewith to maintain her estate. Upon which complaint the
French king through all his dominions laid strait watch to apprehend
the said Gaveston; but he, not unwarned thereof, secretly coasted
into Flanders, from whence it was not long but he was fetched again
by the king, as in further process followeth; so much was the king's
heart infatuated by this wicked person.

About this year, or the next before, came in first the Crouched
Friars; and also first began the knights of the order of St. John
Baptist, otherwise called the knights of Rhodes, for that they by
manly knighthood put out the Turks from the Isle of Rhodes.
(Illustration: Knights Templar burnt at the stake )

In the history of King Edward, this king's father, before precedent,
mention was made of Pope Clement the Fifth, who succeeded after
Benedict; also of putting down of the Templars, which in this year
happened by means of the French king.; who, as he caused to be burned
in the city of Paris this year fifty-four Templars, with the great
master of the same order; so, by his procurement the foresaid Pope
Clement, called a council at Vienna, whre the whole order and sect of
Templars, being condemned, was shortly after by the consent of all
Christian kings deposed all in one day. After whom the French king
thought to make his son king of Jerusalem, and to convert to him all
the lands of the said.Templars. But Clement the pope would not
thereto agree, transferring all their lands to the order of
Hospitallers, for the great sum of money given for the same. The
cause why these impious Templars were put down was so abominable and
filthy, that for the reverence of chaste ears it were better not
told, if it be true that some write.

Another matter worthy to be noted, of like abomination, I thought
here to insert, touching a certain nunnery in France called Provines,
within the which, at the cleansing and casting of a fishpond, were
found many bones of young children, and the bodies also of some
infants as yet whole unconsumed; upon occasion whereof divers of the
nuns of the said nunnery, to the number of twenty-seven,were had to
Paris, and there imprisoned; what became of them afterward I find not
in mine author.

In the same council also was decreed by the said Clement, that all
religious orders exempted should be subject under the common laws as
other were. But the Cistercian monks with money and great gifts
redeemed their privileges and exemption of the pope, and so had them
granted. These Cistercians sped better herein than did the Minorites
of the Franciscans in their suit. Of which Franciscans, when certain
of them had offered unto the said Pope Clement forty thousand florins
of gold, beside other silver, that the pope would dispense with them
to have lands and possessions against their rule; the pope asked them
where was that money. They answered, In the merchant-men's hands. So
the space of three days being given them to bring forth these
merchants, the pope absolved the merchants of their bond made to the
friars, and commanded all that money to be employed and reverted to
his use; declaring to the friars, that he would not infringe or
violate the rule of St. Francis lately canonized, neither ought he to
do it for any money. And thus the beggarly rich friars lost both
their money and their indulgence.

Concerning this Pope Clement the Fifth, Sabellicus writeth, that he
excommunicated the Venetians, for aiding and preferring of Azoda unto
the state of Ferraria; and wrote his letters throughout all Europe,
condemning them as enemies of the church, and giving their goods as a
lawful prey unto all men; which caused them to sustain great harm.
But Francis Dandulus, a nobleman of Venice, being ambassador from the
Venetians to the said Clement, for the obtaining of their absolution
and safeguard of their city and country, and for the pacifying of the
pope's fury toward them, was fain so to humble himself before this
proud, tyrannical prelate, that he suffered a chain of iron to be
tied about his neck, and he to lie down flat before his table, and so
to catch the bones and fragments that fell from his table, as it had
been a dog, till the pope's fury was towards them assuaged; so that
after that he, in reproach, because he so humbled himself for the
behalf and helping of his country, was of some called a dog. But the
city of Venice showed themselves not unkind again to Dandulus for his
gentle good will declared to his country; for as he had abased
himself before in the vile and ignominious condition of a dog for his
country's sake; so they extolled him with as much glory again being
returned home, decking and adorning him after the best array, with
the chief princely ornaments of the city, to make him amends for his
former reproach received.

Concerning the Constitutions of this Pope Clement, and of his
Decretals and Clementines, and how Henricus the emperor in his days
was poisoned in receiving of the sacrament, ye have heard before.
About this time Robert Winchelsea, archbishop of Canterbury, (whom
this king's father had banished before,) was released and returned
home from Rome.

These things thus declared, let us proceed (by the Lord's grace) to
the next year, which is of the Lord 1311, and the fifth year of this
king's reign. In the which year, counting the year from Michaelmas to
the same feast again, as then the usage of the realm was, Peter
Gaveston, who had wandered the countries about, and could find no
safe resting-place, (notwithstanding he was utterly banished, upon
forfeiting life and goods, out of the realm, yet trusting upon the
king's favour, and the good will of the earl of Gloucester, whose
sister he had married,) secretly returning into England with a
certain company of strangers, presented himself to the king's sight.
At the beholding of whom the king for joy ran to him, and embracing
him, did not only retain him, but also for his sake undid all such
acts as had been in the parliament before enacted. The queen and the
whole court, seeing this doting of the king, made a heavy Christmas.
After this return of Gaveston was noised among the commons, the peers
and nobles of the realm were not a little stirred, casting with
themselves what way were best to take. If he were suffered still,
they saw not only themselves rejected, but also that the queen could
not enjoy the love of the king, neither could there be any quietness
in the realm. Again, to stir up war in the land, it were not the
best; to vex or disquiet the king also they were afraid. But
forasmuch as they could not abide all the nobility so to be thrust
out and vilipended for the love of one stranger, and also the realm
so to be spoiled and impoverished by the same; this way they took,
that Thomas, earl of Lancaster, should be elected among them the
chieftain, and chief doer in that business; to whom all other earls,
and barons, and prelates also did concordly condescend and consent,
except only Walter, bishop of Coventry, whom Robert the archbishop
therefore afterward did excommunicate. Which Thomas of Lancaster, by
the public assent of the rest, sent to the king, lying then at York,
humble petitions, in the name as well of the whole nobility as of the
commons; desiring his Grace to give the foresaid Gaveston unto them,
or else, according to the ordinance of the realm, that the land might
be avoided of him. But the tyrannous king, who set more by the love
of one stranger than by his whole realm beside, neither would hearken
to their counsel, nor give place to their supplications; but in all
hasty fury removed from York to Newcastle, where he remained almost
till Midsummer.

In the mean season the barons had gathered a host of sufficient and
able soldiers, coming toward Newcastle; not intending any molestation
against the king, but only the execution of the laws upon the wicked
Gaveston. The king, having wherewith to resist their power, removeth
in all speedy manner to Teignmouth, where the queen lay. And hearing
there that Newcastle was taken, he taketh shipping and saileth from
thence; (notwithstanding the queen there, being great with child,
with weeping tears and all instance desireth him to tarry with her,
as safely he might;) but he, nothing relenting to her, took Peter his
compeer with him, and coasted over to the castle of Scarborough;
where he leaving Peter Gaveston to the safe keeping of his men,
himself journeyeth toward the coast beside Warwick. The lords,
hearing where Peter was, bend thither all their power; so that at
length Gaveston, seeing no remedy but he must needs come into their
hands, yieldeth and submitteth himself; requiring none other
condition, but only that he might talk but a few words with the king
in his presence. Thus Gaveston being apprehended, the king hearing
thereof sendeth unto the lords, requiring his life to be spared; and
that he might be brought to his speech; and promised, that in so
doing he would satisfy their minds and requests, whatsoever. About
this advisement was taken; but then the earl of Pembroke, hearing the
king's promise, persuaded the barons to grant unto his petition;
promising himself, upon losing all his lands, to take the charge upon
him to be brought unto the king's speech, and so to be recommitted to
them again. Which when he had obtained, he taketh Peter Gaveston with
him, to bring him where the king lay. And so coming to Dedington, not
far from Warwick, he leaveth him in the keeping of his soldiers,
while he that night went to his wife, being not far off from thence.

The same night it chanced Guido, the earl of Warwick, to come to the
same place where Gaveston was left; who, taking him out of the hands
of his keepers, carrieth him to the castle of Warwick, where
incontinently they would have put him to death; but, doubting and
fearing the king's displeasure, a little they stayed. At that time
one of the company, (a man of sage and wise counsel, as mine author
writeth,) standing up among them, with his grave oration declareth
the nature of the man, the wickedness of his own condition, the realm
by him so greatly endamaged, the nobles despised and rejected, the
pride and ambition of the man intolerable, the ruin of things like to
ensue by him, and the great charges and expenses they had been at in
so long pursuing and getting of him; and now being gotten and in
their hands, he exhorteth them so to use and take the occasion now
present, that hereafter, being out of their hands, they afterward
might seek, and should not find it.

Briefly, in such sort he persuaded the hearers, that forthwith he was
brought out, and by common agreement beheaded in a place called
Blakelow; which place in stories I find to be called Gaveshead; but
that name, as I think, was derived upon this occasion afterward. And
thus he, that before had called the earl of Warwick the black dog of
Ardeine, was thus by the said dog worried, as ye have heard, &c. His
carcass the Dominic friars of Oxford had in their monastery interred
the space of two years; but after that the king caused the same
carcass to be taken, up and buried within his own manor of Langley.

After this, great disturbance began to rise between the king and the
lords; who, having their power lying about Dunstable, sent stout
message unto the king at London, to have their former acts confirmed.
Gilbert, earl of Gloucester, the king's nephew, who neither did hold
against the king, nor yet against the nobles, with the bishops and
prelates of the realm, went between both parties with great diligence
to make unity. At which time also came two cardinals from Rome, with
letters sent unto them from the pope. The nobles answered to the
message of the cardinals, lying then at St. Albans, that as touching
themselves, they should be at all times welcome to them; but as
touching their letters, forasmuch as they were men unlettered, and
only brought up in war and feats of arms, therefore they cared not
for seeing the same. Then message was sent again, that they would
grant at least but to speak with the pope's legates, which purposely
came for the intent to set quiet and unity in the realm. They
answered again, that they had bishops both godly and learned, by
whose counsel they would be led only, and not by any strangers, who
knew not the true cause of their commotion. And therefore they said
precisely, that they would have no foreigners or aliens to be doers
in their business and affairs pertaining to the realm. Yet
notwithstanding, through the mediation of the archbishop, and of the
earl of Gloucester, the matter at length was so taken up, that the
barons should restore to the king, or his attorney of St. Albans, all
the treasure, horses, and jewels of the foresaid Gaveston taken at
Newcastle, and so their requests should be granted. And so was the
matter at that time composed.

Shortly upon the same Isabella the queen was delivered of a fair
child at Windsor, whom Louis the French king's son, the queen's
brother, with other Frenchmen there present, would have to be called
by the name of the French king; but the English lords were contrary,
willing him to be called by the name of Edward his father. At the
birth of which Edward great rejoicing was through all the land; and
especially the king his father so much joyed thereat, that he began
daily more and more to forget the sorrow and remembrance of
Gaveston's death, and was after that more agreeable to the will of
his nobles.

Thus peace and concord between them began to be in a good towardness;
which more and more might have been confirmed in wearing out of time,
had not Satan, the author and sower of discord, stirred up his
instruments, (certain Frenchmen, titivillers and make-baits about the
king,) which ceased not, in carping and depraving the nobles, to
inflame the king's hatred and grudge against them. By the exciting of
whom, the old quarrels being renewed afresh, the king in his
parliament, called upon the same, began to charge the foresaid barons
and nobles with sedition and rebellion, and for slaying Peter
Gaveston. Neither were the nobles less stout again in defending their
cause, declaring that they in so doing had deserved rather thank and
favour with the king than any displeasure, in vanquishing such a
public enemy of the realm; who not only had spoiled and wasted the
king's substance, but also raised much disturbance in the realm. And
forasmuch as they had begun with the matter to their so great labours
and expenses, they would proceed further, they said, not ceasing till
they saw an end thereof. To be short, great threats there were on
both parts, and a foul matter like to have followed. But again,
through the diligent mediation of the queen, the prelates, and the
aforesaid earl of Gloucester, the matter was taken up and brought to
reconcilement upon these conditions; that the lords and barons openly
in Westminster Hall should, humble themselves before the king, and
ask pardon there of their doings, and every man there to receive a
letter of the king's pardon for their indemnity and assurance. And so
passed over that year, within the which year died Robert Winchelsea,
archbishop of Canterbury. In whose room Thomas Cobham was elected by
the king and church of Canterbury to succeed; but the pope,
frustrating the election, placed Walter Reinold, bishop of Worcester.

In the mean time the Scots, hearing this civil discord in the realm,
began to be busy, and to rebel of new through the means of Robert
Bruce; who being chased out of Scotland by King Edward the First, as
is above premised, into Norway, was now returned again into.
Scotland; where he demeaned himself in such sort to the lords there,
that in short process he was again made king of the realm, and warred
so strongly upon them that took the king's part, that he won from
them many castles and strong holds; and invaded the borders of
England. The king hearing this, assembleth a great power, and by 
water entereth the realm of Scotland. Against whom encountered Robert
de Bruce with his Scots at Estrivelin, where was fought a strong
battle; in the end whereof the Englishmen were discomfited, and so
eagerly pursued by the Scots, that many of the noblemen were slain,
as the earl of Gloucester, Sir Robert Clifford, Sir Edmund Maule,
with other lords, to the number of forty-two, and knights and barons
two hundred and twenty-seven, besides men of name, which were taken
prisoners; of common soldiers ten thousand, or, after the Scottish
story, fifty thousand slain. After which time, Sir Robert Bruce
reigned as king of Scotland.

About which time, and in which year, died Pope Clement, who, keeping
in the realm of France, never came to the see of Rome; after whose
death the papacy stood void two years.

The Scots after this, exalted with pride and fierceness, invaded the
realm of England so sore, killing and destroying man, woman, and
child, that they came winning and wasting the north parts as far as
to York. Besides this, such dearth of victuals, and penury of all
things, so oppressed the whole land, such murrain of sheep and oxen,
as men were fain to eat horse-flesh, dogs, cats, mice, and what else
they could get. Moreover, such a price of corn followed withal, that
the king hardly had bread for the sustentation of his own household.
Moreover, some there were that did steal children and eat them, and
many for lack of victual died. And yet all this amended not the king
of his evil living.

The cause and origin of this great dearth, was partly the wars and
dissension between them and the Scots, whereby a great part of the
land was wasted. But the chiefest cause was the intemperate season of
the year; which, contrary to the common course, was so moist with
abundance of rain, that the grain laid in the earth could have no
ripening by heat of the sun, nor grow to any nourishment. Whereby
they that had to eat could not be satisfied with saturity, but
eftsoons were as hungry again. They that had nothing were driven to
steal and rob; the rich were constrained to avoid and diminish their
households; the poor for famine died. And not so much the want of
victual,which could not be gotten, as the unwholesomeness of the same
when it was taken, so consumed the people, that the quick were not
sufficient to bury the dead. For the corruption of the meats, by
reason of the unseasonableness of the ground, was so infectious, that
many died of the flux, many of hot fevers, divers of the pestilence.
And not only the bodies of men thereby were infected, but also the
beasts by the putrefaction of the herbs and grass fell into as great
a murrain; so far forth, as that the eating of flesh was suspected
and thought contagious. A quarter of corn and salt, from the month of
June to September, grew from thirty shillings unto forty shillings.
The flesh of horses was then precious to the poor. Many were driven
to steal fat dogs, and to eat them; some were said in secret corners
to eat their own children. Some would steal other men's children to
kill them and eat them privily. The prisoners and thieves that were
in bands for hunger fell upon such as were newly brought in unto
them, and tearing them in pieces did eat them half alive. Briefly,
this extreme penury had extinguished and consumed, as it was thought,
the greatest part of the people of the land, had not the king by the
advice of the Londoners given forth commandment through-all his land,
that no corn should at that time be turned to the making of drink.
Such a Lord is God, thus able to do where he is disposed to strike.
And yet we miserable creatures, in our wealth and abundance, will not
cease daily to provoke his terrible Majesty.

But let us return to the order again of our story. After the Scots
had thus plagued miserably, as ye have heard, the realm of England,
they invaded also Ireland, where they kept and continued war the
space of four years. But, in fine, the Irishmen, by aid sent to them
from England, quit themselves so well, that they vanquished the
Scots, and slew Edward Bruce, and many of the nobles of Scotland,
with many other, and drove the residue out of the country.

The king, about the twelfth year of his reign, assembled a new host
and went into Scotland, where he laid siege to Berwick. But in the
mean time the Scots by another way invaded the merchants of
Yorkshire, robbing and harrying the country, and they slew much
people. Wherefore the archbishop of York, and other abbots, priors,
clerks, with husbandmen, assembled a great company, and gave them
battle at a place called Mitton, where the Englishmen were
discomfited, and many of them slain; but the archbishop, and the
abbot of Selby, and divers others there escaped. But because there
were so many spiritual men there slain, it was called therefore the
white battle. By reason whereof, the king, hearing of this, and
partly because winter did approach, was constrained to break up his
siege, and so returned, not without great danger.

At this time the two Spensers (Sir Hugh Spenser, the father, and Hugh
Spenser, the son) were of great power in England, and by the favour
of the king practised such cruelty, and bare themselves so haughtily
and proud, that no lord of this land might gainsay them in any thing
that they thought good, whereby they were in great hatred and
indignation, both with the nobles and the commons, no less than Peter
Gaveston was before.

Soon upon this, came two legates from Rome, sent by Pope John the
Twenty-second, under pretence to set agreement between England and
Scotland; who, for their charges and expenses, required of every
spiritual person four pence in every mark. But all their labour
nothing availed; for the legates, as they were in the north parts
(about Darlington) with their whole family and train, were robbed and
despoiled of their horses, treasure, apparel, and what else they had,
and with an evil-favoured handling retired back again to Durham,
where they stayed a while waiting for an answer from the Scots. But
when neither the pope's legacy nor his curse would take any place
with the Scots, they returned again to London, where they first
excommunicated and cursed as black as soot all those arrogant and
presumptuous robbers of Northumberland. Secondly, for supplying of
the losses received, they exacted of the clergy to be given and paid
unto them eight pence in every mark. But the clergy thereunto would
not agree, seeing it was their own covetousness (as they said) that
made them venture further than they needed. Only they were contented
to relieve them after four pence in a mark, as they promised before;
further they would not grant. Whereof the king being advertised, and
taking part with his clergy, directed his letters to the said legates
in form as followeth:

"The king to Master Rigand of Asserio, canon of Aurelia, greeting. We
have taken notice of the clamours and lamentable petitions of the
subjects of our realm, perceiving by the same that you practise many
and sundry inconveniences very strange, never heretofore accustomed
nor heard of in this our realm, as well against the clergy and
ecclesiastical persons, as against the laity, even to the utter
oppression and impoverishing of many our liege people, which if it
should be winked at, (as God forbid,) may in process of time be
occasion of greater perils to ensue; whereat we are (not without
cause) moved, and not a little grieved; we forbid you therefore, that
from henceforth you practise not, nor presume in any case to attempt,
any thing within this our realm, either against our clergy or laity,
that may any manner of way tend to the prejudice of our royal person,
or of our crown and dignity regal. Witness the king at Windsor the
sixth day of February, in the eleventh year of his reign."

Likewise in the same year the said king writeth to the same effect to
the archbishop of Canterbury, as followeth:

"The king to the reverend father in God, W., by the same grace
archbishop of Canterbury, primate of England, greeting. We are
credibly informed by many our subjects, that certain strange
impositions, never heard of before within any our dominions, upon
lands and tenements, goods and chattels, concerning the testaments
and cases of matrimony,. are brought into our realm to be executed
upon our subjects by you or some others; which, if it should proceed
to execution, would manifestly tend to the disherison and impeachment
of our crown and dignity regal, and the intolerable damage of the
subjects of our realm, to the due preservation of the which you are
bound by solemn oath of allegiance. We therefore command and straitly
charge you that you proceed not in any case to the execution of any
such letters, either in your own person or by any other, nor yet
presume by colour of the same to attempt any thing that may be
prejudicial or hurtful to our crown or dignity regal. And if you, or
any other in your name, have done or attempted any thing by colour of
the same, that ye call back and revoke the same forthwith without
delay. Witness the king at Shene the seventeenth of February, the
eleventh year of his reign."

The like letters in effect were directed to the archbishop of York,
and to every other bishop through England. By force of which letters
the greedy legates, being restrained of their ravening purpose,
taking what they could get, and settling a peace, such as it was,
between the king and the earl of Lancaster, were fain to pack.

Besides the restraint above mentioned for strange impositions, there
followed moreover the same year. the king's prohibition for the
gathering of Peter pence, directed to the foresaid legate, the tenor
whereof followeth.

A prohibition of Peter pence.

"The king to Master Rigand of Asserio, canon of of Aurelia, greeting.
We are given to understand that you do demand and purpose to levy the
Peter penny within our realm, otherwise than the said Peter penny
hath been heretofore accustomed to be levied in the time of any our
progenitors, exercising herein grievous censures ecclesiastical, to
the great annoyance and damnifying of the subjects of our realm; for
present remedy whereof our loving subjects have made their humble
supplication unto us. And forasmuch as the said Peter penny hath been
hitherto accustomed to be gathered and levied upon lands and
tenements within our realm after a due manner and form, we, not
willing that any such unaccustomed impositions shall in any wise be
made upon the lands and tenements of any our subjects within our
dominions, prohibit you, upon grievous pain, straitly charging that
in no wise you presume to exact, gather, or levy the said Peter penny
in any other form or manner than hath been heretofore accustomed to
be gathered and levied in the time of our progenitors, or since the
beginning of our. reign, until further order be taken in our high
court of parliament by the advice of the nobles and peers of our
realm, such as may well be taken without prejudice of our crown and
damage of subjects. Witness the king at Westminster the first day of
March."

To the same effect letters were directed to the archbishops, deans,
archdeacons, and the rest of the clergy.

Touching the first original of which Peter pence,though mention be
made before in the life of King Offa, and others; yet to make a brief
recapitulation of the same, according to the rolls as they come to
our hands, thus it followeth. It is thus found recorded in ancient
Chronicles touching the Peter pence of St. Peter, A.D. 187. Offa,
king of Mercia, travelled up to Rome in the time of Pope Adrian the
First, to obtain the canonizing of St. Alban. And having performed
his vow, visiting the college of English students which then
flourished in Rome, he did give to the maintenance of the scholars of
England, students in Rome, one penny out of every tenement within
this realm that had land belonging to the same, amounting to the
yearly value of thirty pence. And for this his munificence he
obtained of the Pope Adrian, that no person within his dominion
public, repenting him for not performing enjoined penance, should
therefore be banished.

Concerning which Peter pence, it is touched in the laws of King
Edward the saint, chap. x., when, where, of whom, under what pain
this Peter pence must be gathered, being but the king's mere alms, as
is aforesaid. And thus much touching Peter pence. Now for other
letters written by the king to the pope, the same year, for other
matters, as craving the pope's help in compounding the variance
betwixt the two archbishops,of Canterbury and York, for bearing the
cross from the one province to the other, thus it followeth; that the
king grievously complaineth, that such hurly-burly and uproar arose
thereof, that they could not meet together in one place, through the
great multitude of armed men, assistants on both parts, in the very
bearing of the cross, to the great disturbance of the people.

Now after this long digression to turn to our English matters again.
Mention was made before of the.variance between the king, and the
earl of Lancaster, and of a peace concluded between them. But this
peace did not long endure; which the king by his own default did
break; sending to the Scots a privy messenger (which was taken in the
way) to have the foresaid earl of Lancaster by their means made away.

In the mean time the lords and nobles of England, detesting the
outrageous pride of the Spensers, whereby they wrought daily both
great dishonour to the king, and hinderance to the commonwealth, in
such wise conspired against them, that, gathering their power
together, they made a request to the king, that he should remove the
Spensers from his person. For the which there was a parliament called
at London, and the barons came together with a great company. At the
which parliament both the Spensers were banished the land for term of
their lives; and they took shipping at Dover, and so voided the land.
But it was not long after but the king (contrary to the ordinance
made in the parliament) sent for the Spensers again, and set them in
high authority; and they ruled all things after their sensual
appetites, nothing regarding justice nor the commonwealth. Wherefore
the barons, intending again to reform this mischief, assembled their
powers; but the king (making so hasty speed, and gathering his people
so soon) was stronger than they, and pursued them so in divers
places, that the barons, not fully joined together, (some flying, and
some departing to the king, some slain by the way,) in the end were
chased so eagerly, that in short space the foresaid Thomas, earl of
Lancaster, was taken and put to death with the rest of the nobility,
to the number of two and twenty of the greatest men and chiefest
captains of this realm. Of whom only Thomas, earl of Lancaster, for
the nobility of his blood, was beheaded; all the other lords and
barons were hanged, drawn, and quartered, &c. Which bloody
unmercifulness of the king toward his natural subjects, not only
procured to him dishonour within the realm, but also turned afterward
to his much more greater harm and hinderance in his foreign wars
against the Scots; and finally wrought his utter confusion, and
overthrow of his seat royal, as in the sequel of his end appeared,
and worthily.

After the ruin of these noble personages, the king, as though he had
gotten a great conquest, (who then indeed began first to be overcome
and conquered himself, when he so oppressed and cut off the strength
and sinews of his chivalry,) began to triumph not little with the
Spensers, and to count himself sure as though he were in heaven, to
exercise more sharp severity upon his subjects, trusting and
committing all to the counsel only of the fore-said Spensers;
insomuch that both the queen and the residue of the other nobles
could little be regarded. Who, as they grew ever in more contempt
with the king, so they increased in more hatred against the Spensers;
but strength and ability lacked to work their will.

The next year, the king being at York, after he had made Sir Hugh
Spenser earl, and Sir John Baldock, a man of evil fame, to be
chancellor of England, he then arreared a mighty host against the
Scots. But for lack of skilful guiding, expert captains, and for want
specially of due provision of victuals necessary for such an army,
the great multitude, to the number reckoned of a hundred thousand,
wandering through Scotland, from whence the Scots had conveyed all
their goods and cattle into mountains and marshes, were so pinched
and starved with famine, that a great part of the army there
presently perished; and they that returned home, as soon as they
tasted of meats, escaped not. The king, not having resistance of his
enemies, and seeing such a destruction of his subjects, was forced
without any act done to retire. But in his retiring Sir James Douglas
and the Scots, having knowledge thereof, pursued him in such wise,
that they slew many Englishmen, and had well near taken the king
himself. After which distress the king, thus beaten and wearied with
the Scots, would fain have joined in truce with the Scots; but
because they stood excommunicate by the pope, he, standing in fear
thereof, desireth licence to entreat with them of peace, the said
excommunication notwithstanding; which licence being obtained, a
treaty was appointed by commissioners on both parts at Newcastle, at
the feast of St. Nicolas next ensuing, and so truce was taken for
twelve years. Whereupon this is to be noted by the way, gentle
reader, not unworthy of observation, that whereas in former times,
and especially of the late King Edward the First, so long as the
Scots were under the pope's blessing, and we in displeasure with his
Holiness for dealing with them, so long we prevailed mightily against
them, even to the utter subversion in manner of their whole state.
But now, so soon as the pope took our part, and the Scots were under
his curse and excommunication, then got they greater victories
against us, than at any time either before or since, insomuch as
being before not able to defend themselves against us, they now
pursued us into the bowels of our country.

The king, purposing to erect a house of Friars Augustines within the
town of Boston in Lincolnshire first paid the pope's licence in that
behalf.

Polydore Virgil, among other histories of our English nation which he
intermeddleth withal, prosecuting also the acts and life of this
present king, and coming to write of the queen's going over into
France, inferreth much variety and diversity of authors and story-
writers concerning the cause thereof. Otherwise, he giveth himself no
true certainty of that matter, neither yet toucheth he that which was
the cause indeed. By reason partly, that he, being an Italian and a
foreigner, could not understand our English tongue; and partly again,
being but one man, neither could he alone come to the sight of all
our Latin authors. One I am sure came not to his perusing, an old
ancient Latin history fair written in parchment, but without name,
belonging to the library of William Cary, citizen of London. In which
story the truth of this matter, without all ambiguity, is there fully
and with all circumstances expressed, as here briefly is inserted.

The king of England had been divers and sundry times cited up to the
court of France to do homage to the French king, for the dukedom of
Aquitaine, and other lands which the king then held of France. Which
homage because the king of England refused to tender, the French king
began to enter all such possessions as the king then did hold in
France; whereupon great contention and conflicts there were on both
sides. At length, in this year now present, a parliament was called
at London; where, after much altercation, at last it was determined,
that certain should be sent over, to wit, the bishops of Winchester
and Norwich, and the earl of Richmond, to make agreement betwixt the
two kings. For the better help and fortification of which agreement,
it was thought good afterward that Queen Isabella, sister to Charles,
then the French king, should be sent over. Where is to be noted,
first, that the queen's lands, possessions, and castles, a little
before, upon the breach between the French king and the king of
England, were seized into the king's hands, and the queen put unto
her pension, &c. Thus the queen, being sent over with a few to attend
upon her, only Sir John Cromwell, baron, and four knights, took their
passage into France; by whose mediation it was there concluded, that
the king of England, if he would not himself come to do his homage,
should give to his son Edward the dukedom of Aquitaine, and the
earldom of Pontigny, and so he to come to make his homage to the
king, and to possess the same. This being in France concluded, was
sent over by message to the king of England, with the king's letters
patent adjoined for the safe conduct of him or of his son. Upon this,
deliberation was taken in the council of England. But the two
Spensers, fearing either to take the seas with the king, or else
without the king to remain behind, for fear of the nobles, so
appointed, that Prince Edward, the king's son, was sent, which
happened after to their utter desolation, as it followed. For all
things being quieted and ordered according to the agreement in
France, King Edward of England, soon after Michaelmas, sendeth for
his wife and his son again out of France. But she, sending home most
part of her family, refuseth herself to return: for what cause it is
not fully certain, whether for indignation that her possessions and
lands were seized to the king, as is before premised; or whether for
fear and hatred of the Spensers, as is likely; or else for love and
familiarity of Sir Roger Mortimer. For here is to be noted, that the
said Sir Roger Mortimer, with divers other of the barons' part, which
had broken prison in England, were fled before into France, and now
resorted unto the queen. The king, seeing this, giveth forth in
proclamation, and limiteth a certain day to the queen and his son to
return; or else to be proclaimed traitors to the king and to the
realm. Notwithstanding the queen, persisting in her purpose, denieth
to return, unless the other nobles which were fled might be permitted
safely also to return with her. Whereupon the king immediately caused
them both to be proclaimed traitors, and all them that took their
parts.

Here then began great hatred between king and king, between the king
and the queen, much preparation of war, great spoiling on the sea,
much sending between the pope and them; but that would not serve.
Then the king, by the counsel of the Spensers, sendeth privily to
procure the death of the queen and of his son; which should be
wrought by the execution of the earl of Richmond, the queen's
familiar. But as the Lord would, that imagination was prevented and
utterly frustrated. Albeit, the queen yet notwithstanding (whether
misdoubting what corruption of money might do in the court of France;
or whether the French king, being threatened by the king of England
and by the pope, durst not detain her) removed from thence, and was
received, with Edward her son, joyously and honourably in the court
or country of the earl of Heinault. Where, by means of such as were
about her, a marriage was concluded between the said Edward, her son,
being of the age of fourteen years, and Philip, the aforesaid earl's
daughter. When this was noised in England, divers men of honour and
name came over to the queen. And soon after the earl of Heinault
prepared a crew of five hundred men of arms to set over the young
prince with his mother into England. Of this the fame sprang shortly
through the realm. Wherefore the king, in all defensible ways, made
provision to have the havens and ports of his land surely kept, to
resist the landing of his enemies. On the contrary side, the queen
with no less preparation provideth all things to her expedition
necessary. Who, when she saw her time, speeding herself to the sea
coast with Prince Edward her son, Lord Edmund, earl of Kent, the
king's brother, Sir Roger Mortimer, the Lord Wygmore, and other
exiles of England, accompanied also with the aforesaid Heinaulters,
of whom Sir John of Heinault, the earl's brother, was captain, having
with her of Englishmen and strangers the number of two thousand seven
hundred and fifty-seven soldiers; she took shipping in those parts,
and had the wind so favourable, that they landed in England at a port
called Orwell, beside Harwich, in Suffolk, in the dominion of the
earl marshal, the month of September. To whom, after her landing,
resorted earl marshal the earl of Leicester, with other, barons,
knights, and bishops also; namely, of Lincoln, Hereford, Durham, and
Ely. The archbishop of Canterbury, though he came not himself, yet
sent his aid and money. Thus the queen, well furnished with plenty
both of men and victual, setteth forward toward London; so that the
further she came, the more her number daily increased, and the king's
power contrarily decreased; insomuch that, as mine author affirmeth,
not one almost in all the realm could he hire with any wages to fight
on the king's behalf against the queen. Neither did the queen's army
hurt any man or child, either in goods or any other thing, by the
way.

At the arriving of the queen the king was in London which first would
not believe it to be true. Afterward, seeing and perceiving how it
was, he asketh help of the Londoners; who, after mature advisement,
rendered this answer to the king again: that as touching the king,
the queen, and their son, the lawful heir of the kingdom, they were
ready with all duty and service to honour and obey. As for strangers
and traitors to the realm, they would receive none such within their
city gates. Furthermore, to go out of the city to fight, that they
said they:would not, unless it were so, that, according to the
liberties of their city, they might return home again before sun-set.
The king, hearing this answer, (which liked him not well,) fortifieth
the Tower of London with men and victual, committing the custody
thereof to John Ealtham his younger son, and to the wife of Hugh
Spenser, his niece; and leaving Walter Stapleton, bishop of Exeter,
behind him to have the rule of the city of London, he himself hearing
daily the great recourse of the people that drew to the queen, for
more safeguard to himself, fled with a small company westward toward
Wales. But before his departing from London he caused a proclamation
to be made, wherein all and singular persons were charged, upon
forfeit of life and goods, every man with all his power to rise and
invade the rebels and destroy them all, only the life of the queen,
his son, and his brother, reserved. Also that no man, upon pain
aforesaid, should help, rescue, or relieve the said rebels, with
goods, victuals, or otherwise. Item, it was also proclaimed, that
whosoever would bring to the king the head and body of Sir Roger
Mortimer, either dead or alive, should have out of the king's coffers
a thousand pounds.

In contrariwise, the queen setteth forth another proclamation,
wherein it was forbidden to take or spoil violently the value of any
man's goods against the will of the owner, under pain of losing his
finger,if it were three pence; of his hand, if it were six pence; of
his head, if it were twelve pence. Moreover, whosoever would bring to
the queen the head of Hugh Spenser the younger, chopped off from his
body, should receive, for so doing, of the queen, two thousand
pounds. This done, the queen sendeth her letters to the city of
London for aid and succour to subdue the oppressor of the realm, to
the which letters first no answer was made. Again she wrote the
second letter, which was then tacked upon the cross in Cheap, which
was then called the new cross. The copy and tenor of which letter was
this:

"Isabella, by the grace of God, queen of England, lady of Ireland,
and countess of Pountif, and we, Edward, the first son of the king of
England, duke of Guienne, earl of Chester, of Pountif, and of
Mounstrell, to the mayor and all the commonalty of London, send
greeting. Forasmuch as we have before this time sent to you by Our
letters, and how we come into this land in good array, and good
manner, for the profit of holy church, and of our right dear lord and
king, and all the realm, with all our might and strength to keep and
maintain the realm, as all good people ought to do; and upon that we
prayed you and desired you that ye would be helping to us for the
health and profit of the realm; and we have had none answer of you,
nor knew not your will in that part: wherefore we send to you again,
and pray you, and charge you, that ye bear you so toward us, that ye
have nor make us no cause to grieve, but that ye be helping to us in
all the ways that you may. And weet ye well in certain, that we, and
also those that come with us into this realm, intend nothing to be
done, but what shall be pleasing to God, and the common profit to all
the realm; not any thing else, but to destroy the Spensers, enemies
to the realm, as ye well know. Wherefore we pray and charge you in
the faith that ye owe to our lord the king, to the crown, and to us,
and upon all that we may forfeit, that if Hugh Spenser, both the
father and the son, our enemies, come within your power, that ye
cause them hastily to be taken and safely kept, till we have ordained
for them our will, as ye desire profit and honour of us, and of the
realm. Understanding well, if it be so that ye do our desire and
prayer, we shall the more be beholden to you; and also we shall do
you profit and worship if that you send us hastily word again of your
will. Given at Baldock, the sixth day of October."

These aforesaid letters being published and perused, the bishop of
Exeter, to whom, as ye heard, was committed the rule of the city,
sent to the mayor for the keys of the gates, using so sharp words in
the king's name, that variance began to kindle between him and the
citizens; so tar forth that the commons in their rage took the
foresaid bishop and beheaded him and two of his household at the
Standard in Cheap. Then the king went to Bristol, and ordained Sir
Hugh Spenser, the father, there to keep the castle and the town; and
the king, with Hugh Spenser, the son, and Sir Robert Baldock,
chancellor, and the earl of Arundel, went into Wales. And the queen
so pursued them, that first they took the town, yielded up to her;
then they took Sir Hugh Spenser the father, whom, being drawn and
torn, they at last hanged up at Bristol in chains of iron. As the
king was thus flying, the queen caused to be proclaimed through her
army that the king should come and appear, and so receive his kingdom
again, if he would be comfortable to his liege subjects. Who when he
did not appear, Prince Edward his son was proclaimed high keeper of
the realm.

In the mean time Henry, earl of Lancaster, and brother to the good
Earl Thomas which before was beheaded, also Lord William Souch, and
Master Uphowel, were sent by the queen into Wales to pursue the king;
and there they took him, and sent him to the castle of Kenilworth;
and took Hugh Spenser, the son, and Sir Robert Baldock, chancellor,
Sir John, earl of Arundel, and brought them all to the town of
Hereford. And anon after Hugh Spenser, the son, was drawn and hanged
on a' gallows fifty foot high, and after beheaded and quartered,
whose quarters were sent into four quarters of the realm. Sir John of
Arundel was beheaded, Sir Robert Baldock was put in Newgate at
London, where shortly after he pined away and died among thetheives.
This done, a parliament was assembled at London, from whence message
was sent to the king, that if he would resign up his crown, his son
should have it after him; if not, another should take it to whom the
lot would give it. Whereupon the king, being constrained to yield up
his crown to his son, was kept in prison, and after had to Barkley,
where he is said to take great repentance. After this message being
sent, and the king half condescending thereunto, (the parliament
notwithstanding prosecuting and going forward,) there was a bill
exhibited and put up, containing certain articles against the said
king, then in prison in the castle of Barkley, touching his
misbehaviour and imprudent governing of the realm; which bill openly
before the lords and commons, by the speaker of the parliament house,
was read. After long consultation thereof amongst themselves touching
those articles, and also for the better and more circumspect
government of the realm from that time forth; it was consulted and
agreed upon by the lords temporal and spiritual, and commons there
assembled, that the said Edward was a man not meet to be their king,
nor from that time forth any more to bear the crown royal or title of
a king; but that Edward his eldest son, who there in the same court
of high parliament was present, as he was rightful heir and inheritor
thereunto, so should he be crowned king thereof in his father's
stead, with these conditions thereunto annexed: That he should take
wise, sage, and true counsellors unto him, that the realm might be
better and more circumspectly governed than before in the time of
Edward his father it was: That the old king his father should be
honourably provided for and kept so long as he lived, according as
unto his estate appertained, &c. These and other things thus finished
and ended, the parliament breaketh up, and all things necessary to
the coronation of a prince appertaining were in speedy wise prepared,
whereof more hereafter (Christ willing) shall be specified.

In the mean time, as touching the king which was yet in prison, it is
thought by some writers, that the next year following by the means of
Sir Roger Mortimer he was miserably slain, with a spit, as is said,
being thrust up into his body, and was buried at Gloucester, after he
had reigned nineteen years.

In the time and reign of this king, the college
of Cambridge, called Michael House, was founded and builded by Sir
Henry Stanton, knight, to the use and increase of learning; a thing
in a commonwealth very profitable and necessary to be had; the want
and need whereof, many sundry times, as sooner felt in this realm of
ours and other realms abroad, than is the discommodity thereof of
most men commonly understood.

About the same time also was Nicolaus de Lyra, which wrote the
ordinary Gloss of the Bible. Also Gulielmus Ocham, worthy divine, and
of a right sincere judgment, as the times then would either give or
suffer.

In the tractation of this king's history, before was declared what
grudge did kindle in the hearts of the barons against the king, for
revoking such acts and customs as had been before in the parliament
established, both for Peter Gaveston, and for the two Spensers. Also
what severe punishment the king did execute upon them for the same,
in such cruel and rigorous sort, that as he spared none of them whom
he could there find, so he never ceased all his life after to inquire
out, and to be revenged of all such as had been in any part or
consenting to that matter. For the which his extreme and implacable
tyranny he was in such hatred of all the people, that, as he said, he
could not find one of all the commons to take his part, when need
required. Among all other which were for that matter troubled, was
one Adam, bishop of Hereford; who being impeached of treason with
other more, was at length arrested in the parliament to appear and
answer to that which should be to him objected. Many things there
were laid against him, for taking part with them that rose against
the king, with matters more, and heinous rebukes, &c.; whereunto the
bishop a great while answered nothing.

At length the bishop, claiming the liberties and privileges of the
church, answered to the king in this form: "The due reverence of your
princely Majesty ever saved, I, a humble minister and member of the
holy church of God, and bishop consecrate, albeit unworthy, cannot,
neither ought to answer to these so high matters, without the
authority of the archbishop of Canterbury, my direct judge next under
the high bishop of Rome, whose suffragan also I am, and the consent
likewise of the other my fellow bishops." After which words by him
pronounced, the archbishop and other bishops with him were ready to
make humble intercession for him to the king, and did. But when the
king would not be won nor turned with any supplication, the said
bishop, together with the archbishop and the clergy, coming with
their crosses, took him away challenging him for the church, without
any more, answer making; charging moreover, under censures of the
church and excommunication, none to presume to lay any further hands
upon him. The king, moved with this boldness and stoutness of the
clergy, commandeth notwithstanding to proceed in judgment, and the
jury of twelve men to go upon the inquiry of this cause; who finding
and pronouncing the bishop to be guilty, the king caused immediately
all his goods and possessions to be confiscate unto himself;
moreover, he made his plate and all his household provision to be
thrown out of his house into the street; but yet he remained so still
under the protection and defence of the archbishop, &c.

This archbishop was Walter Winchelsea; after whom succeeded Simon
Mepham in the same see of Canterbury, A.D. 1327.

After Pope Clement the Fifth, by whose decease the Romish see stood
vacant (as ye have heard) two years and three months, next was
elected Pope John the Twenty-second, a Cistercian monk, who sat in
that papacy eighteen years. He was stout and inflexible, given so
much to the heaping of riches, that he proclaimed them heretics which
taught that Christ and his apostles had no possessions of their own
in this world. At this time was emperor Louis of Bavaria, a worthy
man; who, with this pope and other that followed him, had no less
contention than had Fredericus before mentioned in the time of King
Henry the Third. Insomuch that this contention and variance continued
the space of four and twenty years. The cause and first origin of
this tragical conflict, rose upon the constitution of Clement the
Fifth, predecessor to this pope; by whom it was ordained, as is afore
mentioned, that emperors by the German princes elected might be
called kings of the Romans, but might not enjoy the title or right of
the empire, to be nominated emperors, without their confirmation
given by the pope. Wherefore this foresaid emperor, because he used
the imperial dignity in Italy before he was authorized by the pope,
the said pope therefore excommunicated the emperor. And
notwithstanding the emperor oftentimes did proffer himself to make
entreaty of peace and concord; yet the pope, inflexible, would not
bend. The writings of both parts yet be extant, wherein the said
bishop doth make his vaunt, that he had full power to create and
depose kings and emperors at his pleasure. In the same time were
divers learned men, which seeing the matter, did greatly disallow the
bishop of Rome's doings; among whom was Gulielmus Ocham, whose
tractations were afterward condemned by the pope for writing against
the temporal jurisdiction of their see. And another, named Marsilius
Patavinus, which wrote the book entitled Defensor Pacis, which was
given into the hands of the said emperor; wherein the controversy of
the pope's unlawful jurisdiction in things temporal is largely
disputed, and the usurped authority of that see set forth to the
uttermost. It is found in some writers, that a great cause of this
variance first began, for that one of the emperor's secretaries,
unknown to the emperor, in certain of his letters had likened the
papal see to the beast rising out of the sea in the Apocalypse. At
length, when the emperor, after much suit made to the pope at
Avignon, could not obtain his coronation; coming to Rome he was there
received with great honour, where he with his wife were both crowned
by the full consent of all the lords and cardinals there; and
moreover, another pope was there set up, called Nicolas the Fifth.
After which things done, the pope not long after departed at Avignon
in France; after whom succeeded then Benedictus the Twelfth, a monk
of Benedictus order, and reigned seven years. Who, by the counsel of
Philip the French king, confirmed and prosecuted the censures and
cursings that John his predecessor had published against Louis the
emperor; moreover, he deprived him of his imperial crown, and also of
his dukedom of Bavaria. The emperor upon this cometh to Germany, and
assembling the princes electors, dukes, bishops, nobles, and the
learned, in a council at Frankfort, there declared before them, out
of the ancient laws and customs of the empire, how it standeth only
in the princes electors, and in none other, to elect the kings or the
emperors of the Romans, for in both these names was no difference, so
that the same electors, in choosing the king of the Romans, did also
elect and choose the emperor. Which emperor so by them constituted
had lawful right, without any information of the apostolical see, to
exercise the administration of the empire. And if he were lawfully
elect, he ought to be anointed of the Roman bishop; which if he do
refuse, then might he be anointed and declared emperor and Augustus
by any other catholic bishop thereunto appointed, as by the old
manner and custom hath been; especially seeing these injunctions are
but certain solemnities added and invented by the bishops, only for a
token of unity between the church and empire, to govern and defend
the faith together. Wherefore in that the emperor sweareth to the
bishop of Rome, in that is to be understood no homage or fealty made
to the bishop, but only it is a sacrament and a promise given to
defend the faith. The which oath or sacrament so given, giveth no
majority to the pope in any temporal rule, but only bindeth the
emperor to be prepared and ready to defend the faith and church of
Christ when need shall require obedience. Wherefore, whereas the pope
leaveth only to the electors authority to make the king of Romans,
and taketh upon himself alone power to make the emperor; that, as it
is newly brought in and devised of late by Pope Clement the Fifth, so
is it contrary both to all ancient order, and also derogatory to the
liberty and majesty of the sacred empire. Again, neither is that also
less absurd and contrary to all right and reason, that the pope, in
time of the imperial seat being vacant, taketh upon him to have the
whole and full doings of the empire as lawful emperor for the time.
Which prerogative and function, by ancient orders of our fore-elders,
should properly and only appertain to the palatine of the Rhine; the
constitution Clementine of the foresaid Pope Clement to the contrary
notwithstanding. Then in the end, for his own excuse, he, in the
presence of them all, reciteth the public confession of his faith, to
answer and purge himself of those objections laid to him by the pope.
This did the meek emperor Louis in that council. Yet, all this
notwithstanding, the said emperor remained still excommunicate, till
time that variance fell between this Pope Benedict and Philip the
French king. Wherefore, to make his party good, at least to have some
friends to flee to, he began to pretend favour and absolution, rather
for necessity than for any good-will to the emperor. But not long
after this pope died.

After whom followed Pope Clement the Sixth, a man most furious and
cruel; who, renewing again the former excommunications of his former
predecessors, caused his letters to be set upon church doors, wherein
he threatened and denounced most terrible thunderbolts against the
said Louis the emperor, unless within three days he should satisfy to
God and the church, and renounce the imperial possession of the
crown. The emperor upon this cometh to Frankfort, and, there ready to
stand in all things to the ordinance of the pope, sendeth his orators
to the court of Rome, to entreat the pope of his favour and good-will
towards him. To the which messengers the pope answered again, that he
would never pardon the emperor before he gave over and confessed his
errors and heresies, and, resigning up his empire to his hands, would
submit himself, his children, and all his goods to the will and
pleasure of the bishop, promising that he should not receive again
any part of the same but upon his good grace, as his will should be
to restore them.

The heresy here mentioned, which was to this emperor objected by the
pope, was this, because (as is above touched) he used and executed
the imperial dignity after his election, before he was of the pope
confirmed. Over and besides, the pope sendeth to the emperor by the
said orators a certain form of a bill contained in writing with
certain conditions, which he commanded to be given to the hands of
the emperor. Here, if the emperor Louis had as much mind to set upon
the pope with dint of sword, as he lacked neither occasion nor power
so to do, what blood might here have been spilled! But the good
emperor, sparing the effusion of blood, receiveth gently the bill;
and not only with his seal doth confirm it, but also sweareth to
observe all the conditions thereof; which the pope hearing of doth
greatly marvel. But yet all this would nothing help to mollify the
modest heart of this Pharaoh.

The princes and electors, seeing the bill of the articles and
conditions, whereof some sounded to the malicious defacing and
destruction of the empire, abhorring the wickedness thereof, desired
the emperor to stand to the defence of the imperial dominion as he
had began; promising that their assistance and aid to the uttermost
thereunto' should not lack. Upon that other orators were sent to Pope
Clement from the princes, desiring him to abstain from such manner of
articles conceived against the state and majesty of the empire. The
pope surmising all this to spring from Louis the emperor, to the
utter subversion of him and all his posterity, on Maundy Thursday
blustereth out most black curses against him, also reneweth all the
former processes of his predecessor against him, as against both a
heretic and a schismatic; commanding, moreover, the princes electors
to proceed in choosing a new emperor. The archbishop of Mentz, seeing
the innocency of the emperor, would not consent to the violating of
his majesty, wherefore he was deprived by the pope of all his
dignities. The other bishops electors, as the archbishop of Cologne,
which took eight thousand marks, with the duke of Saxony, which took
two thousand marks, being corrupted with money by John, king of
Bohemia, elected Charles, the son of the said John, whom Pope Clement
eftsoons in his consistory did approve. Who seeth not here what
matter of war and bloodshed was ministered by the pope between these
two emperors, if the patience of Louis had not been more prudent to
quench the fire than the pope was to kindle it? Charles, then the new
emperor elect, sped him to Aquitaine, according to the custom, there
to be crowned. But by the citizens, there and the empress, the wife
of Louis keeping thereabout, he was repelled. All this happened in
the time and reign of Edward the Third, king of England; with whom
the said Charles, with the French king, and king of Bohemia, set on
by the pope, encountered in war; where the king of England had
against them a noble victory, and slew a great number of the
Frenchmen and Almains, and put Charles the new emperor to flight. In
the mean time, among the princes and cities of Germany what sorrow
and what complaints were against Pope Clement and those electors, it
cannot be expressed. For as they were all together at Spires
congregated in a general assembly, so there was none among them all
that allowed the election of Charles, or that cared for the pope's
process, promising all to adhere and continue faithful subjects to
Louis their lawful emperor. But Louis, remembering his oath made
before to the pope's bill, voluntarily and willingly gave over his
imperial dignity, and went to Burgravia; where shortly after, through
the procured practice of Pope Clement, as Hieronymus Marius doth
write, poison was given him to drink. After the which being drunk,
when he would have vomited out and could not, he took his horse and
went to hunt the bear, thereby through the chasing and heat of his
body to expel the venom. And there the good and gentle emperor,
wickedly persecuted and murdered of the pope, fell down dead, whom I
may well recount among the innocent and blessed martyrs of Christ.
For if the cause being righteous doth make a martyr, what papist can
justly disprove his cause or faith? If persecution joined thereunto
causeth martyrdom, what martyr could be more persecuted than he who,
having three popes like three ban-dogs upon him, at length was
devoured by the same. The princes then, hearing of his death,
assembled themselves to a new election; who, refusing Charles
aforesaid, elected another for emperor, named Gunterus de Monte
Nigro. Who, shortly after falling sick at Frankfort, was likewise
poisoned through his physician's servant, whom the aforesaid Charles
had hired with money to work that feat. Gunterus tasting of the
poison, although he did partly cast it up again, yet so much remained
within him as made him unable afterward to serve that place;
wherefore, for concord's sake, being counselled thereto by the
Germans, he gave over his empire to Charles; for else great bloodshed
was like to ensue. This Charles, thus ambitiously aspiring to the
imperial seat contrary to the minds of the states and peers of the
empire, as he did wickedly and unlawfully come by it, so was he by
his ambitious guiding the first and principal mean of the utter ruin
of that monarchy; for that he, to have his son set up emperor after
him, convented and granted to the princes electors of Germany all the
public taxes and tributes of the empire. Which covenant, being once
made between the emperor and them, they afterward held so fast, that
they caused the emperor to swear never to revoke or call back again
the same. By reason whereof the tribute of the countries of Germany,
which then belonged only to the emperor for the sustentation of his
wars, ever since to this day is dispersed diversely into the hands of
the princes, and free cities within the said monarchy; so that both
the empire being disfurnished and left desolate, and the emperors
weakened thereby, they have neither been able sufficiently since to
defend themselves, nor yet to resist the Turk, or other foreign
enemies. Whereof a great part, as ye have heard, may be imputed unto
the popes, &c.

This Pope Clement first reduced the year of jubilee to every fifty
years, which before was kept but on the hundredth year. And so he
being absent to Avignon, which he then purchased with his money to
the see of Rome, caused it to be celebrated at Rome, A.D. 1350. In
the which year were numbered, of peregrines going in and coming out
every day at Rome, to the estimation of five thousand. The bull of
Pope Clement, given out for this present year of jubilee, proceedeth
in these words as followeth "What person or persons soever for
devotion sake shall take their peregrination unto the holy city, the
same day when he setteth forth out of his house, he may choose unto
him what confessor or confessors either in the way or where else he
listeth ; unto the which confessors we grant, by our authority,
plenary power to absolve all cases papal, as fully as if it were in
our proper person there present. Item, we grant that whosoever being
truly confessed shall chance by the way to die, he shall be quit and
absolved of all his sins. Moreover, we command the angels of paradise
to take his soul out of his body, being absolved, and to carry it
into the glory of paradise," &c. And in another bull, "We will (saith
he) that no pain of hell shall touch him; granting, moreover, to all
and singular person and persons, signed with the holy cross, power
and authority to deliver and release three or four souls, whom they
list themselves, out of the pains of purgatory," &c.

This Clement, as mine author affirmeth, took upon him so prodigally
in his popedom, that he gave to his cardinals of Rome bishoprics and
benefices, which then were vacant in England, and began to give them
new titles for the same livings he gave them in England. Wherewith
the king, as good cause he had, was offended, and undid all the
provisions of the pope within his realm ; commanding, under pain of
imprisonment and life, no man to be so hardy as to induce and bring
in any such provisions of the pope, any more within his land. And
under the same punishment he charged the two cardinals to avoid the
realm, A. D. 1343. In the same year all the tenths, as well of the
Templars as of other spiritual men, were given and paid to the king
through the whole realm. And thus much concerning good Louis, emperor
and martyr, and Pope Clement the Sixth his enemy. Wherein, because we
have a little exceeded the course of years whereat we left, let us
return somewhat back again, and take such things in order as belong
to the church of England and Scotland, setting forth the reign of
King Edward the Third, and the doings of the church which in his time
have happened, as the grace of Christ our Lord will assist and enable
us thereunto.

This aforesaid King Edward the Second in his time builded two houses
in Oxford for good letters, to wit, Oriel College, and St. Mary Hall.

Here I omit also by the way the furious outrage and conflict which
happened in the time of this king, a little before his death, A. D.
1326, between the townsmen and the abbey of Bury ; wherein the
townsmen gathering themselves together in a great multitude, for what
cause or old grudge between them the register doth not declare,
invaded an& sacked the monastery. And after they had imprisoned the
monks they rifled the goods and treasure of the whole house, spoiling
and carrying away their plate, money, copes, vestments, censers,
crosses, chalices, basons, jewels, cups, maces, books, with other
ornaments and implements of the house, to the value inestimable. In
the which conflict certain also on both sides were slain. Such was
the madness then of that people, that when they had gathered unto
them a great concourse of servants and light persons of that country,
to the number of twenty thousand, to whom they promised liberty and
freedom ; by virtue of such writs which they had out of that house,
first they got into their hands all their evidences, copies, and
instruments, that they could find ; then they took off the lead; that
done, setting fire to the abbey gates, they burnt up near the whole
house. After that they proceeded further to the farms and granges
belonging to the same abbey, whereof they wasted, spoiled, and burnt
to the number of twenty-two manor places in one week, transporting
away the corn, horses, cattle, or other movables belonging to the
same, the price whereof is registered to come to nine hundred and
twenty-two pounds, five shillings, and eleven pence, besides the
valuation of other riches and treasure within the abbey, which cannot
be estimated.

The abbot all this space was at London in the parliament, by whose
procurement at length such rescue was sent down, that twenty-four of
the chief of the town (submitting themselves) were committed to ward;
carts full of the townsmen were carried to Norwich, of whom nineteen
were there hanged, divers convicted were put to prison. The whole
township was condemned in sevenscore thousand pounds to be paid for
damages of the house. John Berton, alderman, W. Herling, with thirty-
two priests, thirteen women, and one hundred and thirty-eight other
of the said town were outlawed; of whom divers, after grudging at the
abbot for breaking promise with them at London, did confederate
themselves together, and privily in the night coming to the manor of
Chenington, where the abbot did lie, burst open the gates, who then
entering in first bound all his family ; and after they had robbed
him of all his plate, jewels, and money, they took the abbot and
shaved him, and secretly with them conveyed him away to London ;
where they, removing him from street to street unknown, from thence
had him over Thames into Kent: at length over the sea they ferried to
Dist in Brabant, where they a sufficient time kept him in much
penury, misery, and thraldom ; till at length, the matter being
watched out, they were all excommunicated, first by the archbishop of
Canterbury, then by the pope. And at last it being known where he
was, by his friends he was delivered and rescued out of the thieves'
hands, and finally brought home with procession, and restored to his
house again. And thus was that abbey with the abbot of the same, for
what demerits I know not, thus vexed and afflicted about this time,
as more largely I have seen in their Latin register. But thus much
briefly; the rest I omit here, passing over to the reign of the next
king.

Concerning the acts and story of King Edward the Second, his
deposing, and cruel death, wrought by the false and counterfeit
letter of Sir Roger Mortimer, sent in the king's name to the keepers,
for the which he was charged, drawn, and quartered, I have written
sufficiently before, and more peradventure than the profession of
this ecclesiastical history will well admit. Notwithstanding, for
certain respects and causes I thought somewhat to extend my limits
herein the more; whereby both kings, and such as climb to be about
them, may take the better example by the same; the one to have the
love of his subjects; the other to learn to flee ambition, and not to
bear themselves to brag of their fortune and state, how high soever
it be; considering with themselves nothing to be in this world so
firm and sure, that may promise itself any certain continuance, and
is not perpetual danger of mutation, unless it be fastened by God's
protection.



70. KING EDWARD III - WARS WITH THE FRENCH AND SCOTS

After the suppression of this king, as is above expressed, Edward his
son was crowned king of England, being about the years of fifteen,
and reigned the space of fifty years; who was a prince of much and
great temperance, in feats of arms very expert, and no less fortunate
and lucky in all his wars, than his father was unfortunate before
him. For liberality also and clemency he was worthily commended;
briefly, in all princely virtues famous and excellent. Concerning the
memorable acts of which prince, done both in wars and peace, as how
he subdued the Scots, had great victories by the sea, how he
conquered France, A.D. 1332, won Calais, A.D.1348, and translated the
staple thither, took the French king prisoner, and how the French
arms first by him were brought in, and conjoined with the English
arms, also how the order of the garter first by the said king was
invented and ordained, A.D. 1356; also, A.D. 1357, how the king in
his parliament at Nottingham decreed, that all such, in Flanders or
other where, that had skill in making cloth, should peaceably inhabit
the land and be welcome. For three years before that, it was enacted,
that no wool should be transported over the sea; which was to bridle
the pride of the Flemings, who then loved better the sacks of wool
than the nation of Englishmen. All these, with other noble acts of
this worthy prince, although in other chronicles they be fully
treated of; yet according to that order I have begun, (saying
somewhat of each king's reign, although not pertinent to our
ecclesiastical history,) I have here inserted the same, making haste
to other matters, shortly and compendiously abridging them out of
divers and sundry authors together compacted, mentioned in this wise.

The coronation and solemnity of King Edward the Third, and all the
pomp thereof, was no sooner ended, but Robert of Bruce, king of
Scotland, understanding the state and government of the realm to be,
as it was indeed, in the queen, the young king, the earl of Kent, and
Sir Roger Mortimer; and that the lords and barons, as he was
informed, did scarcely well agree amongst themselves, although he
grew now in age, and was troubled with the falling disease, yet
thought he this a meet time for his purpose, to make invasion; hoping
for as good success and like victory now as but lately before he had
at the castle of Eustrivelin. Whereupon, about the feast of Easter,
he sent his ambassadors with heralds and letters of defiance, to the
young King Edward the Third, the queen, and the council, declaring
that his purpose was with fire and sword to enter and invade the
realm of England, &c. The king, queen, and council, hearing this bold
defiance, commanded in all speedy preparation musters to be made
throughout all the realm; appointing to every band captains
convenient, and at the city of York, by a day assigned them,
commanding every man to be, with all their necessary furniture ready
and thoroughly provided. They directed their letters also with all
speed to Sir John of Heinault, requiring him, with such soldiers and
men at arms as he might conveniently provide in Flanders, Heinault,
and Brabant, to meet the king and queen upon the Ascension day next
ensuing at their city of York.

The king and queen made speedy preparation for this expedition; the
noblemen provided themselves of all things necessary thereunto; the
English captains and soldiers, their bands throughly furnished, were
ready at their appointed time and place; Sir John of Heinault, Lord
Bedmount, mustering his men as fast, was ready to take shipping;
where at Wysant, in English bottoms, there lying for him ready, he
went aboard, and with a. merry wind landed at Dover, travelling from
thence by small journeys daily, till he came within three days after
the feast of Pentecost to the city of York; where the king and queen,
with a great power of sixty thousand men, within and about the city
of York, expected his coming; before whom, in courteous wise he
presented himself, and mustered his troop, wherein he had to the
number of five hundred good men at arms well appointed and mounted.
His coming and furniture was well liked both of the king and queen;
and he was by the harbinger appointed to be lodged, with his
household retinue, in the abbey of white monks. To be brief, such
grudge and variance fell between some of the king's soldiers and his,
within the suburbs of the town, being together lodged, that from the
little to the more, whilst the king and queen, with divers other of
the nobles, strangers and others, were at dinner, the said fray so
greatly increased, that the whole army, so many as were in the town
then lodged, stood to their defence; so that there were slain of the
English archers, in short space, by the strangers, to the number of
three hundred men. Whereupon grew, after the fray was with much
difficulty both of the king and queen ended, such heartburning
between the parties, as that the number of six thousand conspired
together against them, thinking to have burned them in their
lodgings; had they not been, by the great grace of God, and discreet 
handling, otherwise prevented and let. Whereupon the Heinaulders were
fain to take and keep the field; using as diligent watch and ward as
though they had been among their hostile enemies. After this the king
set forward his army towards Durham, and encamped himself near about
the same, who also sent the Lord Vifford and the Lord Mounbrey to
Carlisle with a sufficient company to keep that entrance, and also
the lord marshal of England to keep the town of Newcastle, with a
sufficient company to defend the same, and the country adjoining. For
well knew the king, that by one of these two entries the Scots must
pass into England, standing both of them upon the river of Tyne,
twenty-four miles distant.

But the Scots privily with their army passed the river betwixt the
two towns into England, few understanding thereof, till that the
great fires which the Scots had kindled and made in England, bewrayed
them; who came burning and destroying the country all about as far as
Stanhope park. This thing being declared to the king, he commandeth
his host with all speed to march towards them, which so long
travelled that they came in sight of each other. The king also
commanded the passages of the river to be so straitly and narrowly
guarded, that by no means the Scots could retire and have escaped
back again into Scotland without battle given them of the king. But
the Scots, understanding the great power the king was of, kept always
the advantage of the hills, retiring in the nights from one to
another, that without great odds and advantage on the one side, and
hazard to the other, the king could not set upon them. Thus, in the
day time the Scots keeping the advantage of the hills, and in the
night time retiring to the advantage of such other like, came near
against that river where they first passed over, where they made a
show to offer battle to the king upon the morrow. Whereupon the king
being busied in putting his men and battles in a readiness to fight
the next morning, being almost wearied out in pursuing the Scots from
place to place; the Scots in the mean season got over the river, and
escaped the danger of the king. Which thing, as it could not be done
without great treason of some near about the king, so Sir Roger
Mortimer was grievously suspected thereof, and after it was laid unto
his charge. But to be short, by this means the Scots escaped the
river, after whom it should have availed the king very little to have
made pursuit, as the wily Scots knew full well. For the joy whereof
the Lord William Douglas, one of the Scots' generals, with two
hundred horses, gave alarm in the king's camp, and came so near that
he cut certain of the lines of the king's tent in sunder with his
sword, and retired to his company without great loss of any of his
men. Then on the morrow the king, perceiving the Scots to be gone,
came to the place where over-night they lodged, where were found five
hundred great oxen and kine ready killed; five hundred caldrons made
of beasts' skins full of flesh, over the fire seething; a thousand
spits full of flesh ready to be roasted, and more than ten thousand
shoes of raw leather (the hair still upon the same) which the Scots
had left behind them; and five poor English prisoners tied to trees
and their legs broken. All which the king seeing, returned with his
army (and left any further pursuing the Scots) to Durham; where he
dismissed his army and came again to London, sending with Sir John of
Heinault two hundred men at arms for their better safeguard against
the English archers, with whom at York, as you have heard, they
frayed, till they had taken shipping, and so returned home.

The king, then being at London, confirmed the liberties of the
citizens, and ordained. that the mayor should sit in all places as
chief justice within the liberties of the same. And that what
alderman soever had been mayor before, should be a justice of peace
within his own ward.

Then the king, the queen, and the council, sent over to the earl of
Heinault certain ambassadors, touching the solemnization of the
marriage between the king and the Lady Philippa his daughter; who in
such sort sped their message, that she was soon after conveyed over
to England very honourably, and at Dover arrived. And from thence she
came to London, some chronicles affirm to York, where, upon the day
of the conversion of St. Paul, the year above specified, the marriage
and coronation of the queen was with much triumph during the space of
three weeks solemnized.

After which coronation and marriage the king summoned his parliament
to be kept at Northampton; whereat, by the means of Sir Roger
Mortimer and the old queen, a peace was purchased for the Scots, (who
had for that purpose sent their ambassadors,) for four years to
endure. Also the king (then being within age) granted to release the
Scots of all their homage and fealty unto the realm of England, which
by their charter ensealed they were bound to; as also their
indenture, which was called the Ragman Roll, wherein was specified
the fore-said homage and fealty to the king and crown of England, by
the said king of Scots, nobles, and prelates to be made; having all
their seals annexed to the same. Also there was then delivered unto
them the black cross of Scotland, which King Edward before for a rich
jewel and relic had conquered and brought from Scone abbey; with all
such rights and titles as any the barons else had enjoyed in the said
realm of Scotland, with many other things more, to the great
prejudice both of the realm and discontent of all the nobles and
barons for the most part, more than the old queen, Sir Roger
Mortimer, and the bishop of Ely; who in such sort ruled the roast,
that all the rest of the nobles and barons cast with themselves how
best they might redress and remedy the great inconveniences that unto
the realm by means of them grew and happened. Whereupon the king and
queen, and Sir Roger Mortimer, caused another parliament to be called
at Salisbury; where the said Sir Roger Mortimer was made earl of
March, against all the barons' wills, to prevent and disappoint the
foresaid purpose of them; but the earl Henry of Lancaster, with
others, would not be at the same; wherefore it was laid unto their
charges that they went about to conspire the king's death.

And further, for that the king was as well under the government of
the earl of Kent his uncle, as the queen his mother, and the earl of
March, and for that they could not do in all things as they listed
for the said earl the king's uncle, who loved the king and the realm;
envy began to rise between the earl Mortimer and him; and by Isabella
the queen's practice, he found the means to persuade the king that
the earl of Kent, to enjoy the crown, as next heir unto the king,
went about to poison him. Whereunto the king giving light credit
caused his said uncle to be apprehended, and, without answer making
to his accusation and accusers, to be beheaded at Winchester, the
third of October, and third year of his reign. But the just judgment
of God not permitting such odious crimes in him to be unpunished nor
undetected, so in fine it fell forth, that Isabella the old queen,
the king's mother, was found and understood to be with child by the
said Mortimer. Complaint hereof was made to the king, as also of the
killing of King Edward his father, and of the conspiracy of him
against the earl of Kent, the king's uncle, before put to death.
Whereupon, divers other articles laid against him, and manifestly
read in the court, he was arraigned and indicted, and by verdict
found guilty, having his judgment as in cases of high treason, and
suffered death accordingly, at London; where, upon London bridge,
next unto Spenser's, his head obtained a place. The queen, his
mother, also, by good advice of his council, was restrained of her
liberty, and within a certain castle not permitted once to come
abroad; unto whom the king her son once or twice a year would resort,
and visit her.

This year Prince Edward was born at Woodstock; who in process of time
and years grew to be a most valiant prince, and was, before he died,
accounted throughout the world the flower of chivalry.

After this the king prepared another army into Scotland in the year
prefixed. But first he summoned King David of Scotland, who had, in
the last truce, four years to continue, as you heard, his father then
living, married the Lady Jane, sister to the king, (termed Jane
Makepeace,) to do his homage to the king; but that he refused.
Whereupon, not forgetting therewithal the scoffing rhymes which daily
from that time of truce the Scots had in their mouths, he did so
much, that with an army well furnished he entered Scotland by the
river of Tweed; for the Scots had then the possession of the town of
Berwick. The Scottish jigs and rhymes were these, "Long beards
heartless, Painted hoods witless, Grey coats graceless, Make England
thriftless." To be short, the king wasted the land, burnt, destroyed,
and took towns and castles with small resistance or none; and the
space of six months together did in that land what he listed, without
any battle offered to him. For the king of Scots was but a child, and
not above the age of fifteen years, and wanted good captains that
should have defended the realm; insomuch that they were all fain,
saving those that kept in holds for their defence, to take the forest
of Gedworth, and there kept themselves so long as the king remained
in Scotland. Who at length, when he had sufficiently wasted, and
spoiled, and burnt the same, returned towards Berwick, about the
which he bent his siege, vowing not to remove the same till he had
gotten the town.

The Scots that kept the same, after a certain time and many assaults
made, were contented upon certain conditions to have delivered up the
town. But that the king refused, unless that, all conditions set
apart, they would with bag and baggage depart. Whereupon they
condescended to the king, that if by a certain time they were not by
the king of Scots rescued, they would render up the town, and with
bag and baggage depart; and so the time expired, frustrate of all
hope and rescue, at the day appointed they did. The king then entered
the town, and tarried there the space of twelve days; who, after he
had appointed Sir Edward Baillew captain over the town, and leaving
also behind him other knights, esquires, and soldiers, as well to
keep the same as other holds the king had conquered in Scotland and
frontiers thereof, he returned with his people towards London,
permitting every man to depart and go what way they liked.

Then Sir Robert d'Artois, a nobleman of France, and which descended
of the blood royal, being in England with the king, ceased not
oftentimes to advertise the king, and put him in memory of his good
and right title to the inheritance of the crown of France. This Sir
Robert, for a certain displeasure that Philip the French king took
against him for a certain plea which by him was moved before the
king, was fain, for the safeguard of his life, to flee the realm of
France, and so come to the king's court. King Edward was not
unwilling at all to hear thereof, but took delight oftentimes to
reason and debate that matter with him concerning his right, title,
and inheritance to the crown of France. But yet, notwithstanding, he
thought it not good to make any attempt thereunto without advised and
circumspect counsel; for that it contained matter of no small, but
most difficult importance: neither yet he took it to deserve the fame
either of wisdom or prowess to let so good a title die, or so fit
opportunity to pass. Wherefore he, calling together certain of his
council, used their deliberate advices touching the seriousness of
this matter. In fine, it was by them thought good that the king
should send certain ambassadors over to the earl of Heinault, whose
daughter he had married, as well to hear his advice and counsel
herein; as also what friends and aid, by him and his means, in this
so great an expedition to be begun in the empire, to him might be
procured. The king hereunto condescendeth, and appointeth for this
embassage the bishop of Lincoln, with two other baronets, and two
doctors; who in such speedy wise made their voyage, that in short
space they returned again to the king with this answer: that not only
the earl's counsel and advice should be herein pressed to the king of
England their master, but also the whole country of Heinault. And
further, for that to such an expedition as appertained, he said, the
province of Heinault was but a small matter to make account of; he
would procure for the king greater aid and friendship in the empire,
as the duke of Brabant his cousin-german, and a puissant prince, the
duke of Guerles, the archbishop of Cologne, the marquis of Juilers,
&c., which are all good men of war, and able to make ten thousand
fighting men, saith he. Which answer well liked the king, and made
him joyous thereof. But this counsel of the king, as secret as it
was, came to Philip the French king's ears; whereupon he staid the
voyage of the cross which then he had in hand, sending forth
countermands to stay the same, till he knew further the purpose of
the king of England.

The king hereupon himself taketh shipping, accompanied as to a king
appertained; and when he had consulted with all the foresaid lords of
the empire in this matter, and understood their fidelity, he made his
repair to the emperor, at whose hands he was well entertained and
honourably received, whom the emperor appointed to be his lieutenant-
general, having thereby more authority both to will and command such,
as for this his expedition he had engaged, and made convention with.
Philip, hearing this, prepared his army, and rigged his navy, that so
soon as the king should enter into the dominion of France, they also
might enter into England, requiting like for like.

The king of England, after the feast of St. John Baptist, according
to his purpose, prepared all things ready to such an expedition,
conducting his army, and gathering a greater strength in the empire,
as before to him was promised, using the emperor's authority therein,
as his lieutenant-general; howbeit at the charge altogether of the
king of England. The French king, as soon as King Edward had landed
his army at Machelen in Flanders, hearing of the defiance which the
king and other noblemen of the empire had sent unto him, sent certain
ships lying ready thereunto, and waiting for such opportunity, upon
the coast of England; which, upon a Sunday, whilst the townsmen were
at the church, little looking for any such matter, entered the haven
of Southampton, took the town and spoiled the same, defloured
maidens, enforced wives, burned, killed, took captives, and carried
away rich spoils and great booties to their ships; and so again
departed into France. Further, as the king of England had allied
himself with the noblemen of the empire, and had the friendly favour
of the emperor also thereunto; so the French king made the like
league and alliance with David the king of Scots, whom the king had
so hardly dealt withal in Scotland, (as partly before you heard,) and
kept the most part of Scotland under his subjection; binding the said
David, as well by writing as oath and pledge, that without his
consent he should make no peace nor conclude any truce with the king
of England. Who again assured him of aid, and rescue, and help, and
to recover his kingdom and dominion to his use; and forthwith sent
certain garrisons and bands into Scotland to keep play with the
Englishmen, and there to fortify divers places till further
opportunity served. He also fortified with men, money, victual, and
munition, the town of Cambray; which he suspected would be besieged,
lying so near upon the empire, as indeed it came to pass. For King
Edward, departing from Machelen, set forward his host toward
Heinault, and by the way assembled such power as in the empire he
looked for, marching forward still till that they came to Cambray,
and besieged it with forty thousand men, while that with another
company the Flemings, Brabanters, and Hollanders went to St. Quintin.
But in effect, neither there, nor at Cambray, nor elsewhere, any
thing notorious was achieved. But the summer being well spent, and
little prevailing in the siege of Cambray, being of situation strong
and well defended therewithal with men and munition, he broke up the
siege, and marched further into the heart of France towards Mutterel.
Which thing the French king having understanding of, prepared himself
to give battle to the king of England, who with another great army
came to Vironfosse, where days were appointed to meet in battle; but
in the end nothing was done nor attempted between the princes; and
the king of England, without any battle either given or taken,
returned with his army from thence to Ghent. Concerning the cause of
the sudden removing of the king out of France, it seemeth most
specially to rise of the pope; which at the same time sent down his
legates, for the order of a peace to be taken between the kings. At
Ghent were gathered by the king's appointment all the nobles, as well
of England as of the empire, in council together, what was best to be
done; where plain answer was made to the king of England, that unless
he would take upon him the claim and title of France, as his lawful
inheritance, and as king thereof prosecute his wars, it might not be
lawful for them any further to aid the king of England, or to fight
with him against the French king; for that the pope had bound them in
two millions of florins of gold, and under pain of excommunication,
that they should not fight against the lawful king of France.
Whereupon the king thought good therefore presently to make open
challenge to the realm and crown of France; and further, to quarter
and intermingle the arms of France with the arms of England in one
escutcheon. Whereupon eftsoons King Edward made answer unto the pope
again, directing unto him his letters, wherein he declareth at large
his right and title unto the crown of France, purging thereby himself
and his cause unto the bishop. The copy and tenor of which letter,
because it is too long to express, it is to be found in the story of
Thomas Walsingham, remaining in the library of J. Stephenson, citizen
of London, whoso hath list or leisure to peruse the same. Besides
this letter to the pope he directed another to the peers and prelates
of France.

This done, for that the winter then drew on, neither was there any
hope, as the time served, of further doing good, the king thought
best for a season to return again to England with his company, giving
over the wars until the next spring; and so did, taking shipping, and
so arrived at Dover. When he came to London, it was declared unto him
of the great spoil the Frenchmen had made at Southampton; who
answered again, that within one year he doubted not but the same
should be well paid for and recompensed. And according to the same
purpose of his he lingered no time, but calling a parliament at
Westminster, with much grudge and evil will of his subjects there was
for the maintenance of his wars granted to him a great subsidy, which
was the fifth of every man's goods, and also the customs of his wools
two years beforehand, and the ninth sheaf of every man's corn. At the
spring the king again prepared his army, and rigged his navy,
purposing to land in Flanders. But the archbishop of Canterbury, then
lord chancellor, having understanding of the French power upon the
sea lying for the king, gave him advertisement there, willing him to
go more strongly, or else not to venture. But the king not crediting
the archbishop, and being angry with him therefore, said that he
would go forward; whereupon the bishop resigned the chancellorship,
and removed himself from his council. Then the king, consulting
hereupon further with the Lord Morley his admiral, and others,
hearing also the same of them, furnished himself with stronger power,
and committed him to his ship, and did so much, that a few days
before Midsummer he was upon the sea with a great fleet. Before the
town of Sluys, the French king, to stop his passage, had laid ready a
great navy, well near to the number of twentyscore sail; and had made
the Christopher of England (which before the Frenchmen took at
Southampton) their admiral: betwixt which two navies was a long and
terrible fight; but in the end, the victory, by God's grace, fell to
the king of England, in which fight he himself was personally; so
that of the number of thirty thousand Frenchmen few or none were left
and escaped alive, and two hundred sail of ships taken, in one of the
which were found four hundred dead bodies.

After this great slaughter of the Frenchmen, of whom many for fear of
the sword leaped into the sea, when no man durst bring tidings
thereof to the French king, they which were next about the king did
suborn his fool, to insinuate the understanding thereof by subtlety
of covert words; which was thus. As the aforesaid fool, being in the
king's presence, and was talking of many things; among other talk he
suddenly burst out, being prompted by others, into a vehement railing
against the Englishmen, calling them cowards and dastards, with many
such opprobrious words tending to that effect. The king, not knowing
whereunto the words of the fool did appertain, asked the fool, why he
called the Englishmen such weaklings and cowards, &c. "Why," saith
the fool, "because the fearful and cowardly Englishmen had not the 
hearts to leap into the sea so lustily as our Normans and gentlemen
of France had." Whereby the French king began to understand the
victory of his part to be lost, and the Englishmen to be victors.

This victory achieved, the fame thereof spreading abroad in England,
first was not believed, till letters thereof came from the king to
Prince Edward his son, being then at Waltham, directed to the bishops
and prelates of the realm.

After this aforesaid victory upon the sea, and news thereof, with due
thanks to our Saviour, sent into England; the king, striking into
Flanders, came to Ghent in Brabant, where he had left the queen, who
joyfully received him, being a little before purified, or churched,
as we term it, of her fourth son, whose name was John, and commonly
called John of Gaunt, and was earl of Richmond, and duke of
Lancaster. At Villenorth the king assembled his council, whereat the
noblemen of Flanders, Brabant, and Heinault conjoining together in
most firm league, the one to help and defend the other, with the king
of England, against the French king, purposing and determining from
thence to march toward Tournay, and it to besiege. But the French
king, understanding their counsel, fortified and victualled the same
before their coming thither. Furthermore the said French king the
same time, to stop the siege of King Edward, sent with King David of
Scotland a great power, to that intent to make invasion in England,
thereby the sooner to cause the king to remove his siege. In the mean
time King Edward wrote his letters to Philip de Valois, making unto
him certain requests, as in the same his letters here following is to
be seen; who, for that he wrote not unto him as king of France, but
by the name of Philip de Valois, refused to answer him touching the
same.

Mention was made a little before of David, king of Scots, whom the
French king had supported and stirred up against the king and realm
of England which David, with the aid of the Scots and Frenchmen, did
so much prevail, that they recovered again almost all Scotland, which
before he had lost, and was constrained to live in the forest of
Gedworth many years before. Then invaded they England, and came with
their army, wasting and burning the country before them, till they
came as far as Durham, and then returned again into Scotland, where
they recovered all their holds again, saving the town of Berwick.
Edinburgh they took by a stratagem or subtle device practised by
Douglas and certain other, who apparelling themselves in poor men's
habits, as victuallers with corn, and provender, and other things,
demanded the porter early in the morning what need they had thereof;
who, nothing mistrusting, opened the outward gate, where they should
tarry till the captain rose; and perceiving the porter to have the
keys of the inward gate, they threw down their sacks in the outward
gate, that it might not be shut again, and slew the porter, taking
from him the keys of the town. Then they blew their horn as a warning
to the bands, which privily they had laid not far off; who in hasty
wise coming, and finding the gates ready opened, entered upon the
sudden, and killed as many as resisted them, and so obtained again
the city of Edinburgh.

The Scots thus being busy in England, the French king in the mean
season gathered together a puissant power, purposing to remove the
siege from Tournay; and among other sent for the king of Scots, who
came to him with great force, besides divers other noblemen of
France; insomuch that the French king had a great army, and thought
himself able enough to raise the siege, and thither bent his host.
But the French king, for all this his foresaid huge power and force,
durst not yet approach the king so near, as either to give him
battle, or else remove his siege, but kept himself with his army
aloof, in a sure place for his better defence. And notwithstanding
the king of England wasted, burned, spoiled, and destroyed the
country, twenty miles in manner compass about Tournay, and took
divers and sundry strong towns and holds, as Ortois, Urses, Greney,
Archies, Odint, St. Amand, and the town of Lille, where he slew above
three hundred men of arms, and about St. Omer he slew and killed of
noblemen, the lord of Duskune, of Maurisleou, of Rely, of
Chastillion, of Melly, of Fenis, of Hamelar, Mountfaucon, and other
barons, to the number of fourteen, and also slew and killed above one
hundred and thirty knights, being all men of great possessions and
prowess, and took other small cities and towns to the number of three
hundred: yet for all this, Philip de Valois, the French king, durst
neither rescue his towns, nor relieve his own men; but of his great
army he lost, (which is to be marvelled at, being in the midst of his
own country,) by famine and other inconveniences, and for want of
water, more than twenty thousand men without any battle by him given.
Whereupon, at the entreaty of the said Philip by his ambassadors to
the king sent, and by the mediation of the Lady Jane, sister to the
said Philip, and mother to the earl of Heinault, whose daughter King
Edward, as you heard, had married, a truce containing the number of
fifteen articles for one year was concluded, the king of England
being very unwilling and loth thereunto. Yet, notwithstanding, partly
by the instance of the aforesaid lady, but specially for that the
king was greatly disappointed, through the negligence of his officers
in England; which sent him not over such money as he needed for the
continuance of his wars and payment of his soldiers' wages, (the
articles being somewhat reasonable,) he agreeth to the, truce
thereof.

This truce thus finished, King Edward broke up his camp, removing his
siege from Tournay, and came again to Ghent; from whence (very early
in the morning) he with a small company took shipping, and by long
seas came to the Tower of London, very few or none having
understanding thereof. And being greatly displeased with divers of
his council and high officers, for that through their default he was
constrained against his will, not having money to maintain his wars,
to condescend unto the aforesaid truce, he commanded to be
apprehended and brought unto him to the Tower, the Lord. John
Stonehore, chief justice of England, and Sir John Poulteney, with
divers others. And the next morning he sent for L. R., bishop of
Chichester, and the Lord Wake, the lord treasurer, and divers other
such that were in authority and office, and commanded them all to be
kept as prisoners in the said Tower, only the said bishop excepted;
whom, for fear of the constitution of Pope Clement, which commanded
that no bishop should be by the king imprisoned, he set at liberty
and suffered him to go his way, and in his place substituted Sir
Roger Boucher, knight, lord chancellor of England. The history
treating of this matter reporteth thus: that the king had at this
time under him evil substitutes and covetous officers, who, attending
more to their own gain than to the public honour and commodity of the
realm, left the king destitute and naked of money. With which crime
also John Stratford, then archbishop of Canterbury, was vehemently
noted and suspected, whether of his true deserving, or by the setting
on of others, hereafter shall more appear. Insomuch that the king,
ardently incensed against him, charged him with great falsehood used
against his person, as by his letters written and directed to the
dean and chapter of Paul's against the said archbishop, manifestly
appeareth. By the objections and accusations of the king, premised
and laid against the archbishop of Canterbury, what is to be thought
of the doings of the said archbishop, I leave it to thy judgment,
gentle reader, as I said before, to be conjectured; forasmuch as our
histories somewhat bearing with the said archbishop, seem either to
be uncertain of the truth of the matter, or else covertly to
dissemble some part of that they knew. And especially of Polydore
Virgil I marvel, who, having so good occasion to touch the matter,
doth so slightly pass it over without any word of mention. In which
matter, if probable conjecture, beside history, might here be heard,
it, is not unlike but that some old practice of prelates hath herein
been put in use, through some crafty conspiracy between the pope and
the archbishop. And the rather it is to be gathered, for that as the
pope was enemy unto the king in this his challenge to the crown of
France, so the archbishop against his prince (as for the most part
always they have been) was a friend, as no man need to doubt thereof,
unto the pope. Which thing also more probably may be supposed,
because of the coming down of the two cardinals the same time, from
the pope to the king of England, about the matter of further truce;
whereof (Christ willing) more hereafter shall follow. Albeit the
archbishop (and this notwithstanding) subtilly excused himself to the
king of the aforesaid objections, and cunningly handled the matter in
words by his letter directed to the king.

And thus stood the case between the king and the archbishop of
Canterbury, who, coming thus (as is said) in secret wise into England
from the siege of Tournay, his army in the mean while by ships was
conveyed to Brittany. Of whom a great number, through unseasonable
and inconvenient meats and drinks, was there consumed; to whom also
no less danger happened by the seas, coming out of Brittany into
England by tempest, thunder and lightning, stirred up, as is thought,
by the necromancers of the French king.

About which season, approaching to the year of our Lord 1341, were
sent from the pope two other cardinals to treat with King Edward for
three years' truce more to be concluded with the French king, beside
the former truce taken before for one year, and all by the pope's
means. For here is to be understood, that as it was not for the
pope's purpose to have the king of England to reign over so many
countries, so his privy supportation lacked not by all means
possible, both by the archbishops and cardinals, and also by the
emperor, to maintain the state of the French king, and to stablish
him in his possessions.

In the said histories where these things be mentioned, it is also
noted, that the same year such plenty there was here in the realm of
victuals, that a quarter of wheat was sold for two shillings, a fat
ox for a noble, and, as some say, a sheep for four pence.

The next year following, which was 1342, Louis of Bavaria, the
emperor, who before had showed great courtesy to King Edward, in his
first voyage over, insomuch that he made him his vicar or vicegerent
general, and offered him also aid against the French king; now,
either turned by inconstancy, or seduced by the pope, writeth to him
contrary letters, wherein he revoketh again the vicegerentship
granted to him, and seeketh all means in the favour of the French
king, against King Edward, as by his letters may better appear.

In this mean time died Pope Benedict the Twelfth, mentioned a little
before; after whom succeeded in that room Pope Clement the Sixth. Of
whom it is reported in stories, that he was very liberal and
bountiful to his cardinals of Rome, enriching and heaping them with
goods and possessions, not of his own, but with the ecclesiastical
dignities and preferments of the churches of England. For so
recordeth the author, that he bestowed upon his cardinals the livings
and promotions, such as were or should be vacant in the churches of
England, and went about to set up new titles for his cardinals here
within this realm. But the king being offended therewith, made void
and frustrate all those aforesaid provisions of the pope; charging
moreover and commanding that no person whatsoever should busy himself
with any such provisions, under pain of imprisonment and losing his
life. Which law was made the next year following, which was A.D.
1344.

It followeth then, that the said Pope Clement again began to make new
provisions for two of his cardinals, of benefices and churches that
should benext vacant, beside bishoprics and abbotships, to the extent
of two thousand marks; whereupon the procurators of the said
cardinals were sent down for the same. But the king and nobility of
the realm not suffering that, under pain of imprisonment caused the
said procurators forthwith to depart the realm, whereupon the nobles
and commons shortly after wrote a fruitful epistle to the pope, for
the liberties and maintenance of the English church; whereunto, as
saith the author, the pope and the cardinals were not able to answer.

After these things thus passed over, the king shortly after sent over
his procurators, the earl of Lancaster and Derby, Hugh Spenser, Lord
Ralph Stafford, with the bishop of Exeter and divers other, to the
pope's court, to discuss and plead about the right of his title
before the pope; unto whom the said Pope Clement the Sixth, not long
after, sent down this message: how that Louis, duke of Bavaria, the
emperor, whom the pope had before deposed, had submitted himself to
him in all things, and therefore deserved at his hands the benefit of
absolution; and how the pope therefore had conferred and restored
unto him justly and graciously the empire, which he before unjustly
did hold, &c. Which message when the king did hear, being therewith
moved to anger, he answered again, saying, that if he also did agree
and compound with the French king, he was ready to fight with them
both, &c.

Within the time of this year, pence, halfpence, and farthings, began
to be coined in the Tower. And the next year following, which was
A.D. 1344, the castle of Windsor, where the king was born, began to
be repaired; and in the same house what was called the round table
was situated, the diameter whereof, from the one side to the other,
contained two hundred feet; to the expenses of which house weekly was
allowed a hundred pounds for the maintaining of the king's chivalry,
till at length, by the occasion of the French wars, it came down to
nine pounds a week. By the example whereof, the French king being
provoked, he began also the like round table in France, for the
maintaining of the knighthood. At which time the said French king
moreover gave free liberty through his realm to fell down trees for
making of ships and maintaining of his navy, whereby the realm of
England was not a little damnified.

During the same year the clergy of England granted to the king tenths
for three years; for the which the king in recompence again granted
to them his charter containing these privileges: That no archbishop
nor bishop should be arraigned before his justices, if the said clerk
do submit and claim his clergy, professing himself to be a member of
holy church; who so doing shall not be bound to come to his answer
before the justices. And if it shall be laid unto them to have
married two wives, or to have married a widow, the justices shall
have no power to proceed against them, to inquire of the matter; so
that the cause shall be reserved to the spiritual court, &c.

About this present time, at the setting up of the round table, the
king made Prince Edward, his eldest son, the first prince of Wales.
All this while yet continued the truce between the two kings, albeit
it is likely to be thought that the French king gave many attempts to
infringe the same; whereupon Henry, earl of Lancaster, with six
hundred men at arms, and as many archers, was sent over to Gascony
the year after, 1345, who there so valiantly is said to have behaved
himself, that he subdued fifty-five townships unto the king; twenty-
three noblemen he took prisoners, encountering with the Frenchmen at
Allebroke. So courteously and liberally he dealt with his soldiers,
that it was a joy to them and a preferment to fight underneath him.
His manner was, in winning any town, to reserve little or nothing to
himself, but to disperse the whole spoil to his soldiers. One example
in the author whom I follow is touched; how the aforesaid earl, at
the winning of the town of Briers, where he had, granted to every
soldier, for his booty, the house with all the implements therein
which he by victory should obtain; among other his soldiers, to one
named Reh, fell a certain house with the implements thereof, wherein
was contained the mint and money coined for that country, to the
value of a great substance; which when the soldier had found, in
breaking up a house where first the gross metal was, not yet
perfectly wrought, he came to the earl, declaring to him the
treasure, to know what was his pleasure therein. To whom the earl
answered, that the house was his, and whatsoever he found therein.
Afterward the soldier, finding a whole mint of pure silver ready
coined, signified the same to the earl, forasmuch as he thought such
treasure to be too great for his portion; to whom the said earl again
answering, declared that he had once given him the whole house, and
that he had once given he would not call back again, as children use
to play; and therefore bade him enjoy that which was granted to him;
and if the money were thrice as much, it should be his own. Which
story, whether it was true or otherwise in those days, I have not to
affirm. But certes, if in these our covetous, wretched days now
present, any author should report the like act to be practised, I
would hardly believe it to be true.

As the earl of Lancaster was thus occupied in Gascony, the Scots were
as busy here in England, wasting and spoiling without mercy; which
were thought, and not unlike, to be set on by the French king; and
therefore he was judged both by that, and by divers other ways, to
have broken the covenants of truce between him and the king of
England.

Wherefore, the next year ensuing, A.D. 1346, King Edward first
sending his letters to the court of Rome, and therein complaining to
the pope of Philip de Valois, how he transgressed and broke the truce
between them made, which by evident probations he there made
manifest, about the month of July he made his voyage into Normandy in
such secret wise, that no man well knew whither he intended. Where
first he entered the town of Hogs, from thence proceeded unto
Cardoyne. Where, about the twenty-seventh of July, by the river of
Cardoyne he had a strong battle with the Normans and other Frenchmen,
which to stop his passage defended the bridge; at the which battle
were taken of the lords of France, the earl of Ewe, the earl of
Tankerville; and of knights with other men of arms, to the number of
one hundred; of footmen six hundred; and the town and suburbs beaten
down to the hard walls; and all that could be borne away was
transported to the ships.

A little before, mention was made how the French king began first to
infringe the truce taken, and how the earl of Lancaster, upon the
same, was sent unto Gascony. Now for the more evidence of the matter
concerning the falling of the French king from the league, and other
his wrongs and untrue dealing, it shall better in the king's letter
appear; who, hearing word that the Lord Philip de Valois (contrary to
the form of truce taken at Vanes) had apprehended certain of his
nobles of England, and had brought them to Paris to be imprisoned and
put to death; besides other slaughters and spoilings made in
Brittany, Gascony, and other places more; he, therefore, seeing the 
truce to be broken of the French king's part, and being thereto of
necessity compelled, in the year above prefixed, the fourteenth of
the month of June, did publish and send abroad his letters of
defiance.

And thus much for the king's letters. Now let us again return to his
passage, from whence a little we have digressed. Concerning the which
passage of the king, with the order of his acts achieved in the same,
from the winning of Cadane or Cardoyne, unto the town of Poissy, it
is sufficiently described by one of the king's chaplains and his
confessor; who, being a Dominic friar, and accompanying the king
through all his journey, writeth thereof as followeth.

"Great cause we have to praise and laud the God of heaven, and most
worthily to confess his holy name, who hath wrought so his mercy to
us. For after the conflict had at Cadane, in the which many were
slain, and,the city taken and sacked even to the bare walls, the city
of Baia immediately yielded itself of its own accord, fearing lest
their counsels had been bewrayed. After this the lord our king
directed his progress toward Rouen; who being at the town of Leeson,
there came certain cardinals to him, greatly exhorting him to peace;
which cardinals being courteously entertained of the king for the
reverence of the pope's see, it was thus answered to them again; That
the king being much desirous of peace, had assayed by all ways and
means reasonable how to maintain the same; and therefore hath offered
conditions and manifold ways of peace, to be had to the no small
prejudice of his own cause; and yet is ready to admit any reasonable
offer of peace, if by any means it may be sought, &c. With this
answer, the cardinals going to the French king, the king's adversary,
to persuade with him in like manner, returned to King Edward again,
offering to him in the French king's name, the dukedom of Aquitaine,
in as full assurance as his father before him ever had it; besides
further hope also of obtaining more, if entreaty of peace might be
obtained. But forasmuch as that contented not enough the king's mind,
neither did the cardinals find the French king so tractable and
prepense to the study of peace as they looked for, the cardinals
returned, leaving the matter as they found it. And so the king
speeding forward by the way as his journey did lie, he subdued the
country and the great towns without any resistance of the
inhabitants, who did all flee and run away. Such fear God struck into
them, that it seemed they had lost their hearts. In the same voyage,
as the king had gotten many towns and villages, so also he subdued
castles and munitions, very strong, and that with little stress. His
enemy being at the same time at Rouen had reared a great army, who,
notwithstanding being well manned, yet ever kept on the other side of
the river Seine, breaking down all the bridges that we should not
come over to him. And although the country round about continually
was spoiled, sacked, and with fire consumed, by the circuit of twenty
miles round about; yet the French king, being distant scarce the
space of one mile from us, either would not, or else durst not, (when
he might easily have passed over the river,) make any resistance for
the defence of his country and people. And so our king, journeying
forward, came to Pusiake or Poissy, where the French king had
likewise broken downthe bridge, and keeping on the other side of the
river would rest in no place."

After the siege and winning of Poissy, the third day of September,
A.D. 1346, the king, through the midst of France, directed his
passage unto Calais, as by the tenor of this letter you hear, and
besieged the same; which siege he continued from the third of
September aforesaid till the third day of August the year next
ensuing, upon the which day it was rendered up unto the said King
Edward the Third, and subdued unto the crown of England; as after,
the Lord willing, shall more appear.

In the mean time, during the siege of Calais, David the Scottish
king, at the request of the French king, with a great army burst into
the north parts of England, and first besieging the town of Liddell,
within six days obtained the greatest part of the town; and there
taking all that he could find, with Sir Walter Selby, a valiant
knight, which was the keeper of the hold, he caused him uncourteously
to be put to the sword: and so from thence proceeded further into
England; till at length, being met withal by William Surch,
archbishop of York, and the Lord Percy, and the Lord Nevil, with
other nobles of those parts, (calling and gathering their men
together,) in the plain near to Durham, the seventeenth day of
October, in the year above said, through the gracious hand of Christ,
there they were subdued and conquered. In the which conflict, the
earls of Murray and Strathern, with the flower of all the chivalry
and principal warriors of Scotland, were slain. Also the aforesaid
King David, with the earls of Mentife and Fife, and other lords, and
William Douglas Masklime, a Fleming, and William Douglas, and many
more men at arms, were taken prisoners; and so the mischief which
they intended to other fell upon their own heads.

Moreover, during yet the siege of Calais, the French king had sent
certain offers to the men of Flanders, that if thy would relinquish
the king of England, and adhere to him:

First,he would remit all their former transgressions.

Secondly, he would unburden them of their interdict.

Thirdly, he would send unto them such plenty of corn, that what was
sold for twelve shillings with them, should be sold for four
shillings, and that for six years.

Fourthly, he would store them with plenty of French wool to make
cloth, for a small price; and that they might sell the said cloths
both in Flanders and in France, and that the Frenchmen should use the
same cloth, forasmuch as all other manner of cloth should be
forbidden in France so long as any of that (made of French wool)
might be found.

Fifthly, he would restore to them these three cities, Insulam,
Rowocum, and Betony.

Sixthly, he would defend them from all their adversaries; and in
pledge of the same would send them money beforehand.

Seventhly, such as were able and forward men among them, he would
retain and promote them, &c.

But these offers, seeming to proceed more of fair words to serve the
present turn than of any hearty truth, were not received. Then the
Lord John, prince and heir to the French king, during the aforesaid
siege of Calais above mentioned, coming with a mighty army of
Frenchmen, set upon the men of Flanders and Englishmen in the town of
Cassel: in the which conflict, during from morning to noon, the
Frenchmen were vanquished, and the young dauphin driven back from
whence he came. Of whose number divers were slain and taken
prisoners; where on the other side, through the Lord's defence, not
one is reported to be grievously wounded.

As this passed on, not long after, about the seventh day of June,
A.D. 1347, King Edward continuing still his siege against Calais,
Philip the French king came down with a mighty army, purposing to
remove the siege; where, not far off from the English host, he
encamped himself. Which done, two cardinals, Ambald and Stephan,
procured for the same purpose, going between the two kings, gave to
the king of England thus to understand: That if he would condescend
to any reasonable way of peace, the French king was ready to offer
such honest proffers unto him as to reason and to his contentation
should seem agreeable. But in conclusion, when it came to talk, the
nobles could not agree upon the conditions; wherefore the French
king, seeing no other remedy, caused it to be signified to King
Edward, that between that present Tuesday and the next Friday, if he
would come forth into the field, he should have battle given him.
Thus the place being viewed of four captains of either host for the
battle to be fought, it so fell, the French king on Wednesday, at
night, before the battle should join, secretly by night setting his
pavilions on fire, returned back with his army out of the sight of
the Englishmen.

Upon the Friday following, they which were besieged in the town of
Calais, seeing the king to be retired, upon whose help they trusted,
being also in great penury and famine for lack of victuals, and
otherwise in much misery vehemently distressed, surrendered the town
to the king's hands; who, like a merciful prince, only detaining
certain of the chief, the rest with the whole commons he let go with
bag and baggage, diminishing no part of their goods, showing therein
more princely favour to them, than they did of late in Queen Mary's
days unto our men, in recovering the said town of Calais again.
(Illustration: Calais )

After the winning thus of Calais, as hath been premised, King Edward,
remaining in the said town a certain space, was in consultation
concerning his voyage and proceeding further into France. But, by
means of the aforesaid cardinals, truce for a certain time was taken,
and instruments made (so provided) that certain noblemen, as well for
the French king, as for the king of England, should come to the pope,
there to debate upon the articles; unto the which King Edward, for
peace' sake, was not greatly disagreeing: which was A.D. 1347.

The next year following, which was A.D. 1348, fell a sore plague,
which they call the first general pestilence in the realm of England.
This plague, as they say, first springing from the east, and so
proceeding westward, did so mightily prevail here in this land,
beginning first at Dorchester, and the countries thereabout, that
every day lightly twenty, some days forty, some sixty and more dead
corpses were brought and laid together in one pit. This beginning the
first day of August, by the first of November it came to London;
where the vehement rage thereof was so hot, and did increase so much,
that from the first day of February, till about the beginning of May,
in a churchyard then newly made by Smithfield, about two hundred dead
corpses every day were buried, besides them which in other
churchyards of the city were laid also. At length, by the grace of
Christ, ceasing there, it proceeded from thence to the north parts;
where also the next year after, A.D. 1349, it assuaged.

After this, in the next year ensuing, A.D. 1350, the town of Calais
was, by treason of the keeper of the castle, almost betrayed and won
from the Englishmen. Within the compass of which year died Philip,
the French king; after whom King John, his son, succeeded in the
crown, who, the next year after, under false pretence of friendship,
caused the constable of France, earl of Ewe, to be beheaded, who,
being taken prisoner before in war by Englishmen, and long detained
in prison in England, was licensed by King Edward to visit his
country of France. In the same year the town of Guines was taken by
Englishmen, while the keepers of the hold were negligent and asleep.

The year next following, the marshal of France with a great army was
put to flight by Sir Roger Bentele, knight, and captain in Brittany,
having but only six hundred soldiers with him. In this battle were
taken nine knights, esquires and gentlemen one hundred and forty. The
Frenchmen and men of Brittany by this victory were exceedingly
discouraged and their pride cut down.

In the year after was Henry first made duke of Lancaster, which
before was earl of Derby and Lancaster; also divers good ordinances
were appointed in the parliament at Westminster, which after, by
avarice and partial favour of the head men, were again undone.

Concord and agreement about the year 1354 began to come well forward,
and instruments were drawn upon the same between the two kings; but
that the matter being brought up to Pope Innocent the Sixth, partly
by the quarrelling of the Frenchmen, partly by the winking of the
pope, which ever held with the French side, the conditions were
repealed, which were these: That to the king of England all the
dukedom of Aquitaine, with other lands there, should be restored
without homage to the French king; and that King Edward again should
surrender to him all his right and title which he had in France,
whereupon rose the occasion of great war and tumult, which followed
after between the two realms.

It followed after this, the year of our Lord 1355, that King Edward,
hearing of the death of Philip the French king, and that King John
his son had granted the dukedom of Aquitaine to Charles, his eldest
son, and dauphin of Vienna, sent over Prince Edward with the earls of
Warwick, of Salisbury, of Oxford, and with them a sufficient number
of able soldiers into Aquitaine, where he, being willingly received
of divers, the rest partly by force of sword he subdued, partly
received, submitting themselves to his protection.

Not long after this, in the same year, word being brought to King
Edward, that John the French king was ready to meet him at St. Omer,
there to give him battle, he gathered his power, and set over to
Calais with his two sons, Lionel, earl of Wilton, and John of Gaunt,
earl of Richmond, and with Henry, duke of Lancaster, &c., who being
come to St. Omer, the French king, with a mighty army of his
Francklings, hearing of his coming, the nearer he approached to them,
the further they retired back; wasting and destroying behind them, to
the intent that the English army in pursuing them should find no
victuals. By reason whereof, King Edward, following him by the space
of nine or ten days unto Hadem, when neither he could find his enemy
to fight, nor victuals nor forage for his army, he returned unto
Calais; where war again being offered in the name of the king, upon
unstable conditions, and yet the same not performed, King Edward,
seeing the shrinking of his enemy, from Calais crossed the seas into
England, where he recovered again the town of Berwick, which the
Scots before by subtle train had gotten. At which time was granted
unto the king in parliament fifty shillings for every sack or pack of
wool that should be carried over, for the space of six years
together; by the which grant the king might dispend every day by
estimation above one hundred marks sterling. And forasmuch as every
year one hundred thousand sacks of wool were thought to be exported
out of the realm, the sum thereof for six years' space was estimated
to amount to one million five hundred thousand pounds sterling.

The same year, when King Edward had recovered Berwick and subdued
Scotland, Prince Edward, being in Gascony, made towards the French
king; who, notwithstanding by the way all bridges were cast down, and 
great resistance made, yet the victorious prince made way with his
sword, after much slaughter of the Frenchmen, and many prisoners
taken, at length joining with the French king at Poictiers, scarce
with two thousand, gave the overthrow to the French king with seven
thousand men of arms and more. In which conflict, the French king
himself, and Philip his son, with Lord James of Bourbon, the
archbishop of Sens, eleven earls, twenty-two lords were taken; of
other warriors and men of arms two thousand. Some affirm in this
conflict were slain two dukes, of lords and noblemen twenty-four, of
men of arms two thousand and two, of other soldiers about eight
thousand. The common report is, that more Frenchmen were there taken
prisoners than were the number of them which took them. This noble
victory, gotten by the grace of God, brought no little admiration to
all men.

It were too long, and little pertaining to the purpose of this
history, to comprehend in order all the doings of this king, with the
circumstances of his victories, of the bringing in of the French king
into England, of his abode there, of the ransom levied on him, and of
David the Scottish king; of which the one was rated at three millions
of scutes, the other at one hundred thousand marks, to be paid in ten
years: how the staple was after translated to Calais, with such like.
I refer them that would see more, to the chronicle of Thomas
Walsingham of St. Albans, of John Froysard, Adam Merimouth, who
discourse all this at large.



71. KING EDWARD III -- MATTERS ECCLESIASTICAL
Thus having discoursed at large all such martial affairs and warlike
exploits, incident in the reign of this king betwixt him and the
realms of France and Scotland; now, to return again to our matters
ecclesiastical, it followeth in order to recapitulate and notify the
troubles and contentions growing between the same king and the pope,
and other ecclesiastical persons in matters touching the church, in
order of years remaining in the Tower, taken out of the records, as
followeth. As where first, in the fourth year of his reign, the king
wrote to the archbishop of Canterbury to this effect: That whereas
King Edward the First, his grandfather, did give to a clerk of his
own, being his chaplain, the dignity of treasurer of York, the
archbishopric of York being then vacant and in the king's hands, in
the quiet possession whereof the said clerk continued until the pope
misliking therewith would have displaced him, and promoted to the
same dignity a cardinal of Rome, to the manifest prejudice of the
crown of England; the king therefore straitly chargeth the archbishop
of York not to suffer any matter to pass that may be prejudicial to
the donation of his grandfather, but that his own clerk should enjoy
the said dignity accordingly, upon pain of his Highness's
displeasure.

The like precepts were also directed to these bishops following,
namely, to the bishop of Lincoln, bishop of Worcester, bishop of
Sarum, Monsieur Marmion, archdeacon of Richmond, archdeacon of
Lincoln, the prior of Lewen, the prior of Lenton, to Master Rich of
Bentworth, to Master Iherico de Concoreto, to the pope's nuncio, to
Master Guido of Calma. And withal, he wrote his letters unto the
pope, as touching the same matter, consisting in three parts: First,
in the declaration and defence of his right and title to the donation
and gift of all manner of temporalties, of offices, prebends,
benefices, and dignities ecclesiastical, holden of him in capite, as
in the right of his crown of England. Secondly, in expostulating with
the pope for intruding himself into the ancient right of the crown of
England, intermeddling with such collations, contrary to right and
reason, and the example of all his predecessors, which were popes
before. Thirdly, entreating him that he would henceforth abstain and
desist from molesting the realm with such novelties and strange
usurpations; and so much the more, for that, in the public parliament
lately holden at Westminster, it was generally agreed upon by the
universal assent of all the estates of the realm, that the king
should stand to the defence of all such rights and jurisdictions as
to his regal dignity and crown any way appertained.

After this, in the ninth year of the reign of this king, Pope
Benedict the Twelfth sendeth down letters touching his new creation,
with certain other matters and requests to the king; whereunto the
king answering again, declareth how glad he is of that his
preferment; adding, moreover, that his purpose was to have sent unto
him certain ambassadors for congratulation of the same; but being
otherwise occupied by reason of wars, could not attend to his
Holiness's requests: notwithstanding, he minded to call a parliament
about the feast of Ascension next, where, upon the assembly of his
clergy and other estates, he would take order for the same, and so
direct his ambassadors to his Holiness accordingly.

The next year after, which was the tenth year of his reign, the king
writeth another letter to the pope; That forasmuch as his clergy had
granted him one year's tenth for the supportation of his wars, and
for that the pope also had the same time to take up the payment of
six years' tenths granted him by the clergy a little before,
therefore the pope would vouchsafe, at his request, to forbear the
exaction of that money for one year, till that his tenth for the
necessities of his wars were despatched.

The same year he wrote also to the pope to this effect: That whereas
the prior and chapter of Norwich did nominate a clerk to be bishop of
Norwich, and sent him to Rome for his investiture, without the king's
knowledge; therefore the pope would withdraw his consent, and not
intermeddle in the matter appertaining to the king's peculiar
jurisdiction and prerogative.

After this, in the sixteenth year of this king, it happened that the
pope sent over certain legates to hear and determine matters
appertaining to the right of patronages of benefices; which the king
perceiving to tend to the no small derogation of his right, and the
liberties of his subjects, writeth unto the said legates, admonishing
and requiring them not to proceed therein, nor attempt any thing
unadvisedly, otherwise than might stand with the lawful ordinances
and customs of the laws of his realm, and the freedom and liberty of
his subjects.

Writing moreover the same year to other legates, being sent over by
the pope to treat of peace between the king and the. French king,
with request that they would first make their repair to the French
king, who had so oftentimes broken with him, and prove what
conformity the French king would offer; which, if he found
reasonable, they should soon accord with him; otherwise he exhorted
them not to enter into the land, nor to proceed any further in that
behalf.

The year following, which was the seventeenth of his reign, ensued
another letter to the pope against his provisions and reservations of
benefices.

The year following, another letter likewise was sent by the king to
the pope, upon occasion taken of the church of Norwich, requiring him
to surcease his reservations and provisions of the bishoprics within
the realm, and to leave the elections thereof free to the chapters of
such cathedral churches, according to the ancient grants and
ordinances of his noble progenitors.

Proceeding now to the nineteenth year of this king's reign, there
came to the presence of the king certain legates from Rome,
complaining of certain statutes passed in his parliament tending to
the prejudice of the Church of Rome, and the pope's primacy: viz.
That if abbots, priors, or any other ecclesiastical patrons of
benefices should not present to the said benefices within a certain
time, the lapse of the same should come to the ordinary or chapter
thereof; or if they did not present, then to the archbishop; if the
archbishop likewise did fail to present, then the gift to pertain not
unto the lord pope, but unto the king and his heirs. Another
complaint also was this, that if archbishops should be slack in
giving such benefices as properly pertained to their own patronage in
due time, then the collation thereof likewise should appertain to the
aforesaid king and his heirs. Another complaint was, that if the pope
should make void any elections in the church of England for any
defect found therein, and so had placed some honest and discreet
persons in the same, that then the king and his heirs was not bound
to render the temporalties unto the parties placed by the pope's
provision. Whereupon the pope being not a little aggrieved, the king
writeth unto him, certifying that he was misinformed, denying that
there was any such statute made in that parliament. And further, as
touching all other things, he would confer with his prelates and
nobles, and thereof would return answer by his legates.

In the twentieth year of his reign, another letter was written to the
pope by the king, the effect whereof, in few words to express it, was
this: to certify him that, in respect of his great charges sustained
in his wars, he hath by the counsel of his nobles, taken into his own
hands the fruits and profits of all his benefices here in England.

To proceed in the order of years: in the twenty-sixth year of this
king, one Nicholas Heath, clerk, a busy-headed body, and a troubler
of the realm, had procured divers bishops, and others of the king's
council, to be cited up to the court of Rome, there to answer such
complaints as he had made against them. Whereupon commandment was
given by the king to all the ports of the realm, for the restraint of
all passengers out, and for searching and arresting all persons
bringing in any bulls or other process from Rome, tending to the
derogation of the dignity of the crown, or molestation of the
subjects; concerning which Nicholas Heath, the king also writeth to
the pope his letters, complaining of the said Heath, and desiring him
to give no ear to his lewd complaints.

The same year the king writeth also to the pope's legate, resident in
England, requiring him to surcease from exacting divers sums of money
of the clergy, in the name of first-fruits of benefices.

The thirty-first year of this king's reign, the king, by his letters,
complaineth to the pope of a troublesome fellow named Nicholas
Stanway, remaining in Rome, which by his slanderous complaints
procured divers citations to be sent into the realm, to the great
disturbance of divers and sundry honest men; whereupon he prayeth and
adviseth the pope to stay himsclf, and not to send over such hasty
citations upon every light occasion.

To pass further to the thirty-eighth year of the same king, thus we
find in the rolls: That the king the same year took order by two of
his clergy, to wit, John à Stock, and John of Norton, to take into
their hands all the temporalties of all deaneries, prebends,
dignities, and benefices, being then vacant in England, and to answer
the profits of the same to the king's use.

The same year an ordinance was made by the king and his council, and
the same was proclaimed in all port towns within the realm - "That
good and diligent search should be made that no person whatsoever,
coming from the court of Rome, &c., do bring into the realm with him
any bull, instrument, letters patent, or other process, that may be
prejudicial to the king, or any of his subjects; nor that any person,
passing out of this realm toward the court of Rome, do carry with him
any instrument or process that may redound to the prejudice of the
king or his subjects, and that all persons passing to the said court
of Rome, &c., with the king's special licence, do notwithstanding
promise and find surety to the lord chancellor, that they shall not
in any wise attempt to pursue any matter to the prejudice of the king
or his subjects, under pain to be put out of the king's protection,
and to forfeit his body, goods, and chattels, according to the
statute thereof made, in the twenty-seventh year," &c.



72. ANTI-PAPAL WRITERS: 1300-1360

And thus much concerning the letters and writings of the king, with
such other domestic matters, perturbations, and troubles, passing
between him and the pope, taken out of the public records of the
realm, whereby I thought to give the reader to understand the
horrible abuses, the intolerable pride, and the unsatiable avarice of
that bishop, more like a proud Lucifer than a pastor of the church of
Christ, in abusing the king, and oppressing his subjects with
exactions unmeasurable; and not only exercising his tyranny in this
realm, but raging also against other princes both far and near,
amongst whom neither spared he the emperor himself. In the story and
acts of which Emperor Louis, mentioned a little before, whom the pope
did most arrogantly excommunicate upon Maundy Thursday, and the
selfsame day placed another emperor in his room, relation was made of
certain learned men which took the emperor's part against the pope.
In number of whom was Marsilius of Padua, William Ockam, John of
Ganduno, Luitpoldus, Andreas Landensis, Ulricus Hangenor, treasurer
of the emperor, Dante, Aligerius, &c.; of whom Marsilius of Padua
compiled and exhibited unto the Emperor Louis a worthy work entitled
Defensor Pacis, written in the emperor's behalf against the pope.
Wherein, both godly and learnedly disputing against the pope, he
proveth all bishops and priests to be equal, and that the pope hath
no superiority above other bishops, much less above the emperor; that
the word of God ought to be only the chief judge in deciding and
determining causes ecclesiastical; that not only spiritual persons,
but laymen also, being godly and learned, ought to be admitted into
general councils; that the clergy and the pope ought to be subject
unto magistrates; that the church is the university of the faithful,
and that the foundation and head of the church is Christ, and that he
never appointed any vicar or pope over his universal church; that
bishops ought to be chosen every one by their own church and clergy;
that the marriage of priests may lawfully be permitted; that St.
Peter was never at Rome; that the clergy and synagogue of the pope is
a den of thieves; that the doctrine of the pope is not to be
followed, because it leadeth to destruction; and that the corrupt
manners of the Christians do spring and flow out of the wickedness of
the spiritualty, &c. He disputeth, moreover, in another work, of free
justification by grace; and extenuateth merits, saying that they are
no causes efficient of our salvation, but only sine qua non, that is
to say, that works be no cause of our justification, but yet our
justification goeth not without them. For the which his doctrine,
most sound and catholic, he was condemned by the pope, A.D. 1324.
Concerning the which man and his doctrine I thought good thus much to
commit to history, to the intent men may see that they which charge
this doctrine now taught in the church with the note of novelty or
newness, how ignorant and unskilful they be in the histories and
order of times forepast.

In the same part of condemnation, at the same time, also was John of
Ganduno, A.D. 1330. Which Johannes wrote much upon Aristotle and
Averrois, and his books are yet remaining; and no doubt but he wrote
also of divinity, but it is not unlike that these works have been
abolished.

In the same number and catalogue cometh also William Ockam, who was
in the year of our Lord 1326, as is before mentioned, and wrote
likewise in defence of Louis the emperor against the pope; and also
in defence of Michael, general of Grey Friars, whom the pope had
excommunicated and cursed for a heretic. Divers treatises were by the
said Ockam set forth, whereof some are extant and in print, as his
Questions and Distinctions; some are extinct and suppressed. Some
again be published under no name of the author, being of his doing;
as the dialogue between the soldier and the clerk: wherein it is to
be conjectured what books and works this Ockam had collected against
the pope. Of this Ockam, John Sleidan in his history inferreth
mention, to his great commendation, whose words be these: "William
Ockam, in time of Louis the Fourth, emperor, did flourish about the
year of our Lord 1326; who, among other things, wrote of the
authority of the bishop of Rome; in the which book he handleth these
eight questions very copiously: First, Whether both the
administrations of the bishop's office, and of the emperor's, may be
in one man? Secondly, Whether the emperor taketh his power and
authority only of God, or else of the pope? Thirdly, Whether the pope
and Church of Rome have power by Christ to set and place kings and
emperors, and to commit to them their jurisdiction to be exercised?
Fourthly, Whether the emperor being elected hath full authority, upon
the said his election, to administer his empire? Fifthly, Whether
other kings besides the emperor and king of Romans, in that they are
consecrated of priests, receive of them any part of their power?
Sixthly, Whether the said kings in any case be subject to their
consecrators? Seventhly, Whether if the said kings should admit any
new sacrifice, or should take to themselves the diadem without any
further consecration, they should thereby lose their kingly right and
title? Eighthly, Whether the seven princes electors give as much to
the election of the emperor, as succession rightfully giveth to other
kings?" Upon these questions he disputeth and argueth with sundry
arguments and sundry reasons on both sides; at length he decideth the
matter on the part of the civil magistrate, and by occasion thereof
entereth into the mention of the pope's Decrees Extravagant,
declaring how little force or regard is to be given thereunto.

Trithemius maketh mention of one Gregorius Ariminensis, a learned and
a famous and right godly man; who not much differing from the age of
this Ockam, about the year of our Lord 1350, disputed in the same
doctrine of grace and free-will as we do now, and dissented therein
from the papists and sophisters, counting them worse than Pelagians.

Of the like judgment, and in the same time, was also Andreas de
Castro, and Burdianus upon the Ethics of Aristotle; which both
maintained the grace of the gospel, as is now in the church received,
above two hundred years since.

And what should I speak of the duke of Burgundy, named Eudo, who at
the same time, A.D. 1350, persuaded the French king not to receive in
his land the new-found constitutions, Decretal and Extravagant, nor
to suffer them within his realm; whose sage counsel then given, yet
remaineth among the French king's records, as witnesseth Carolus
Molineus.

Dante, an Italian writer, a Florentine, lived in the time of Louis,
the emperor, about the year of our Lord 1300, and took part with
Marsilius of Padua against three sorts of men, which, he said, were
enemies to the truth: that is, first, the pope; secondly, the order
of religious men, which count themselves the children of the church,
when they are the children of the devil their father; thirdly, the
doctors of decrees and decretals. Certain of his writings be extant
abroad, wherein he proveth the pope not to be above the emperor, nor
to have any right or jurisdiction in the empire. He proveth the
donation of Constantine to be a forged and a feigned thing, as which
neither did stand with any law or right; for the which he was taken
of many for a heretic. He complaineth, moreover, very much, of the
preaching of God's word to be omitted; and instead thereof, the vain
fables of monks and friars to be preached and believed of the people,
and so the flock of Christ to be fed not with the food of the gospel,
but with wind. "The pope," saith he, "of a pastor is made a wolf, to
waste the church of Christ, and procure with his clergy not the word
of God to be preached, but his own decrees." In his Canticle of
Purgatory, he declareth the pope to be the whore of Babylon; and to
her ministers, to some he applieth two horns, to some four, as to the
patriarchs, whom he noteth to be the tower of the said whore
Babylonical.

Hereunto may be added the saying out of the book of Jornandus,
imprinted with the aforesaid Dante; that forasmuch as antichrist
cometh not before the destruction of the empire, therefore such as go
about to have the empire extinct, are in so doing forerunners and
messengers of antichrist. "Therefore let the Romans," saith he, "and
their bishops beware, lest their sins and wickedness so deserving, by
the just judgment of God, the priesthood be taken from them.
Furthermore, let all the prelates and princes of Germany take heed,"
&c.
And because our adversaries, which object unto us the newness of our
doctrine, shall see and perceive the course and form of this religion
now received, not to have been either such a new thing now, or a
thing so strange in times past; I will add to these above recited,
Master Taulerus, a preacher of Argentine, in Germany, A.D. 1350; who,
contrary to the pope's proceedings, taught openly against all men's
merits, and against invocations of saints, and preached sincerely of
our free justification by grace; referring all man's trust only to
the mercy of God, and was an enemy to all superstition.

With whom also may be adjoined Franciscus Petrarcha, a writer of the
same age, who, in his works and his Italian metre, speaking of Rome,
calleth it the whore of Babylon, the school and mother of error, the
temple of heresy, the nest of treachery, growing and increasing by
the oppressing of others; and saith further, that she (meaning the
pope's court) extolleth herself against her founders; that is, the
emperors who first set her up, and did so enrich her; and seemeth
plainly to affirm, that the pope was antichrist, declaring that no
greater evil could happen to any man than to be made pope. This
Franciscus was about the year of our Lord 1350.

And if time would serve us to seek out old histories, we should flnd
plenty of faithful witnesses, of old and ancient time, to give
witness with us against the pope, beside the other above rehearsed;
as Johannes de Rupe Scissa, A.D. 1340; who, for rebuking the
spiritually for their great enormities, and neglecting their office
and duty, was cast into prison.

Illyricus, a writer in our days, testifieth that he found and read in
an old pamphlet, that the said Johannes should call the Church of
Rome the whore of Babylon, and the pope to be the minister of
antichrist, and the cardinals to be the false prophets. Being in
prison, he wrote a book of prophecies, bearing the title, Vade Mecum
in Tribulationem; in which book, which also I have seen, he
prophesied and admonished affliction and tribulation to hang over
the:spiritually. And he pronounceth plainly, that God will purge his
clergy, and will have priests that shall be poor, godly, and that
shall faithfully feed the Lord's flock; moreover, that the goods of
the church shall return again to the laymen. He prophesied also the
same time, that the French king and his army should have an
overthrow; which came likewise to pass during the time of his
imprisonment. Of this Johannes de Rupe, writeth Froisart in his time,
and also WiCkliff; of whose prophecies much more may be said at more
leisure, Christ willing, hereafter.

About the same year of our Lord, 1340, in the city of Herbipoli, was
one named Master Conrad Hager; who, as appeareth by the old bulls and
registers of Otho, bishop of the said city, is there recorded to have
maintained and taught, the space of twenty-four years together, the
mass to be no manner of sacrifice, neither that it profiteth any man
either quick or dead; and that the money given of the dead for
masses, be very robberies and sacrileges of priests, which they
wickedly do intercept and take away from the poor; and he said,
moreover, that if he had a stove full of gold and silver, he would
not give one farthing for any mass. For the same his doctrine this
good preacher was condemned and enclosed in prison; what afterward
became of him we do not find.

There is among other old and ancient records of antiquity belonging
to this present time, a certain monument in verses poetically
compiled, but not without a certain moral, entitled Pœnitentiarius
Asini, The Ass's Confessor, bearing the date and year of our Lord in
this number, Completus, A.D. 1343. In this treatise are brought forth
the wolf, the fox, and the ass, coming to shrift and doing penance.
First, the wolf confesseth him to the fox, who easily doth absolve
him from all his faults, and also excuseth him in the same. In like
manner the wolf, hearing the fox's shrift, showeth to him the like
favour again. After this cometh the ass to confession, whose fault
was this, that he, being hungry, took a straw out from the sheaf of
one that went in peregrination unto Rome. The ass, both repenting of
this fact, and because he thought it not so heinous as the faults of
the other, he hoped the more for his absolution. But what followed?
After the silly ass had uttered his crime in auricular confession,
immediately the discipline of the law was executed upon him with
severity; neither was he judged worthy of any absolution, but was
apprehended upon the same, slain, and devoured. Whosoever was the
author of this fabulous tale, he had a mystical understanding in the
same; for by the wolf no doubt was meant the pope; but the fox was
resembled to the prelates, courtesans, priests, and the rest of the
spiritually. Of the spiritually the lord pope is soon absolved; as,
contrarily, the pope soon doth absolve them in like manner. By the
ass is meant the poor laity, upon whose back the strait censure of
the law is sharply executed, especially when the German emperors come
under the pope's inquisition, to be examined by his discipline, there
is no absolution nor pardon to be found, but in all haste he must be
deposed, as in these stories may partly appear before. And thus they,
aggregating and exaggerating the fault to the uttermost, fly upon the
poor ass and devour him. By the which apology, the tyrannical and
fraudulent practices of these spiritual Romanists are lively
described.

Not long after these above rehearsed, about the year of our Lord
1350, Gerhardus Ridder wrote also against the monks and friars a book
entitled Lacryma Ecclesiæ, wherein he disputeth against the aforesaid
religious orders, namely, against the Begging Friars; proving that
kind of life to be far from Christian perfection, for that it is
against charity to live upon others, when a man may live by his own
labours: and affirmeth them to be hypocrites, filthy livers, and such
as for man's favour, and for lucre' sake, do mix with true divinity,
fables, apocryphas, and dreams of vanity. Also that they, under 
pretence of long prayer, devour widows' houses, and with their
confessions, sermons, and burials, do trouble the church of Christ
manifold ways. And therefore persuaded the prelates to bridle and
keep short the inordinate licence and abuses of these monastical
persons, &c.

Yet I have made no mention of Michael Sesenas, provincial of the Grey
Friars, nor Petrus de Corbaria, of whom writeth Antoninus, in quarta
parte summæ, and saith they were condemned in the Extravagant of Pope
John, with one Johannes de Poliaco. Their opinions, saith Antoninus,
were these: That Peter the apostle was no more the head of the church
than the other apostles; and that Christ left no vicar behind him, or
head in his church; and that the pope hath no such authority to
correct and punish, to institute or depose the emperor. Item, that
all priests, of what degree soever, are of equal authority, power,
and jurisdiction, by the institution of Christ; but by the
institution of the emperor, the pope to be superior, which, by the
same emperor, also may be revoked again. Item, that neither the pope
nor yet the church may punish any man, punitione coactiva, that is,
by extern coaction, unless they receive licence of the emperor. This
aforesaid Michael, general of the Grey Friars, wrote against the
tyranny, pride, and primacy of the pope, accusing him to be
antichrist, and the Church of Rome to be the whore of Babylon, drunk
with the blood of saints. He said there were two churches, one of the
wicked flourishing, wherein reigned the pope; the other of the godly
afflicted. Item, that the verity was almost utterly extinct: and for
this cause he was deprived of his dignity, and condemned of the pope.
Notwithstanding, he stood constant in his assertions. This Michael
was about the year of our Lord 1322, and he left behind him many
favourers and followers of his doctrine, of whom a great part were
slain by the pope; some were condemned, as William Ockam; some were
burned, as Johannes de Castilione, and Franciscus de Arcatara.

With him also was condemned, in the said Extravagant, Johannes de
Poliaco, above touched, whose assertions were these: That the pope
could not give licence to hear confessions to whom he would, but that
every pastor in his own church ought to suffice. Item, that pastors
and bishops had their authority immediately from Christ and his
apostles, and not from the pope. Item, that the constitution of Pope
Benedict the Second, wherein he granteth larger privileges to the
friars above other pastors, was no declaration of the law, but a
subversion: and for this he was by the said friars oppressed, about
the year of our Lord 1322.

After Simon Mepham, archbishop of Canterbury, before mentioned, who
lived not long, succeeded John Stratford. After whom came John
Offord, who lived but ten months; in whose room succeeded Thomas, and
remained but one year, A.D. 1350; and after him Simon Islip was made
archbishop of Canterbury by Pope Clement the Sixth, who sat seventeen
years, and built Canterbury college in Oxford. Which Simon Islip
succeeded the bishop of Ely, named Simon Langhan, who within two
years was made cardinal. In whose stead, Pope Urban the Fifth
ordained William Wittlesey, bishop of Worcester, to be archbishop of
Canterbury, A.D. 1366. In which year, William, bishop of Winchester,
elected and founded the New college in Oxford.

Again, in the order of the popes, next unto Pope Clement the Sixth
before mentioned, about the same time, A.D. 1353, succeeded Pope
Innocent the Sixth; in the first year of which, pope, two friars
Minors, or Franciscans, were burned at Avignon, Pro opinionibus (as
mine author saith) erroneis, prout D. papæ et ejus cardinalibus
videbatur, that is, "for certain opinions, as seemed to the pope and
his cardinals erroneous." Of the which two friars I find, in the
Chronicles De Actis Rom. Pontificum, and in the history of
Premonstratensis, that the one was Johannes Rochtayladus; or rather,
as I find in Catalog. Testium, cited out of the Chronicle of Henricus
de Herfordia, his name to be Hayabalus who being, as he recordeth, a
friar Minorite, began first in the time of Pope Clement the Sixth,
A.D. 1345, to preach and affirm openly, that he was, by God's
revelation, charged and commanded to preach, that the church of Rome
was the whore of Babylon, and the pope with his cardinals to be very
antichrist; and that Pope Benedict, and the others before him his
predecessors, were damned; with other such-like words tending much
against the pope's tyrannical majesty. And that the aforesaid
Hayabalus being brought before the pope's face, constantly did stand
in the same, saying, that he was commanded by God's revelation so to
say, and also that he would preach the same if he might. To whom it
was then objected, that he had some heretical books, and so was
committed to prison in Avignon. In the time of his accusation it
happened that a certain priest, coming before the pope, cast the
pope's bull down before his feet, saying, Lo here, take your bull
unto you, for it doth me no good at all. I have laboured now these
three years withal, and yet notwithstanding, for all this your bull,
I cannot be restored to my right. The pope hearing this, commanded
the poor priest to be scourged, and after to be laid in prison with
the aforesaid friar. What became of them afterward, the aforesaid
writer, Henricus de Herfordia, maketh no mention; but I may probably
conjecture this priest and this friar, Rochtayladus, or rather
Hayabalus, were the two, whom mine author, Thomas Walsingham, writeth
to be burned at this time in Avignon, about the first beginning of
this Pope Innocent the Sixth. Of this Rochtayladus I thought good
here to infer the testimony. and mention of John Froisart, written of
him in his first volume, chap. 211, in these words:

There was, saith Froisart, a friar Minor, in the city of Avignon,
which was full of great clergy, called friar John of Rochtaylada, the
which friar Pope Innocent the Sixth held in prison in the castle of
Baignour, for showing of many marvels after to come: principally he
showed many things to fall unto the prelates of the church for the
great superfluity and pride that was then used among them; and also
he spake many things to fall of the realm of France, and of the great
lords of Christendom, for the oppressions that they did to the poor
common people. This friar, said he, would prove all his saying by the
authority of the Apocalypse, and by other books of holy saints and
prophets, the which were opened to him by the grace of the Holy
Ghost: he showed many things hard to believe, and many things fell
after as he said. He said them not as a prophet, but he showed them
by authority of ancient Scriptures, and by the grace of the Holy
Ghost, who gave him understanding to declare the ancient prophets,
and to show to all Christian people the years and times when such
things should fall. He made divers books founded on great sciences
and clergy, whereof one was made the year of our Lord 1346, wherein
were written such marvels, that it were hard to believe them; howbeit
many things according thereto fell out after. And when he was
demanded of the wars of France, he said that all that had been seen
was not like that should be seen after; for he said that the wars in
France should not be ended till the realm were utterly wasted and
spoiled, in every part. The which saying was well seen after, for the
noble realm of France was sore wasted and soiled, and specially in
the term that the said friar had set; the which was in the years of
our Lord 1356-1359. He said, in those years the princes and gentlemen
of the realm should not for fear show themselves against the people
of low estate, assembled of all countries without head or captain;
and they should do as they list in the realm of France; the which
fell after, as ye have heard, how the companions assembled them
together, and by reason of their robbery and pillage waxed rich, and
became great captains.

About the same time happened in France a certain contention between
the French prelates and the friars of Paris, testified and recorded
by Godfridus de Fontanis; the brief effect of which story is this.
The prelates of France conventing and assembling together in the city
of Paris, after a long deliberation among themselves, caused, by the
beadles, to be called together all the students, masters, and
bachelors of every faculty, with the chief heads also of all the
religious houses and friars in the university of Paris: who being all
there congregated together in the house of the bishop of Paris, where
there were present four archbishops and twenty bishops, first stood
up the bishop of Biturecense, who, there making his sermon, took for
his theme the Epistle of St. Paul to the Ephesians; and concluded
thereupon, first, that true charity would compel them to see and
provide for their flocks. Secondly, that the vigour of charity would
arm them to withstand errors. Thirdly, he concluded, that by duty of
charity they were bound to give their lives for the souls of their
flock committed to their charge. Fourthly, that by the same charity
every man ought to hold himself content with that which was his own,
and not to intermeddle or busy himself further than to him
appertained or belonged to his office. "For there," saith he, "all
order ecclesiastical is dissolved, whereas men, not containing
themselves in their own precincts, presume in other men's charges,
where they have nothing to do. But this charity," saith he, "now-a-
days waxeth cold, and all ecclesiastical order is confounded and
utterly out of order. For many there be, which nowadays presume to
thrust in themselves where they have nothing to do; so that now the
church may seem a monster. For as in a natural body appeareth a
monster, where one member doth the office of another; so in the
spiritual body, which is the church, it may be thought likewise; as
when our learned and prudent brethren, to wit, the friars Majors and
Minors, do take upon them to usurp and occupy the office to us
especially appertaining; namely, whereas the Scripture warneth us
all, none to take upon him any office, except he be called thereunto
of the Lord, as Aaron was. Wherefore we have heretofore oftentimes
caused the said friars, both by the king himself in his own person,
and also by other nobles, to be spoken to and desired to surcease
from doing and intermeddling in our office, and yet they would not,
but have preached against our wills through all our diocesses, and
have heard confessions, saying, that they have the pope's privilege
to bear them out therein. For the which cause we come to you, and not
we here present only, but also we have the hand-writing and the full
consent of all other our fellow bishops throughout the kingdom of
France, to complain to you of this so great insolency and presumption
of the friars. For that as we are, you shall be. Neither do I think
that there be any of us prelates here now, which have not some time
been taken out of this university of yours. We have desired,
moreover, and caused to be desired of the aforesaid friars, that they
would send their privileges to the see apostolical, to be interpreted
and expounded more plainly by the lord pope; which they refused also
to do. Wherefore to the intent you may the better understand and see
what their privileges be, and how far they do extend, we have
appointed the said privileges here openly to be read unto you."

Then stood up another in the public place, and there read the
privileges of both the orders; and afterward read also the
constitution of Pope Innocent the Third, written in the fifth of the
decretals, and beginneth, Omnis utriusque sexus, &c.; which
constitution was repugnant and contrary to the aforesaid privileges,
as he there manifestly proved, declaring how both the privileges were
derogatory to that constitution.

This done, then rose up the Bishop Ambianensis, a great lawyer, who
discoursing from article to article, there proved by good law, that
the said constitution stood in all its force and vigour, and ought
not to be infringed by the friar's privileges in any part. And,
therefore, by the virtue of that constitution, that the friars ought
not so misorderly to intrude themselves in hearing confessions, in
enjoining of penance, and in preaching in churches and diocesses,
without special licence of the bishop of the diocess, and curate of
the parish; unto whose words never a friar at that time replied
again. And so the bishop proceeding to his conclusion, desired the
university to assist them in that case, wherein they were all
determined, saith he, to stand firmly to the shedding of their blood,
in resisting that misorder and injuries of the friars. This happened
the sixth day of December, which they dedicated to St. Nicholas.

The next day, being Sunday, one of the order of the Minorites, or 
Franciscans, went to the church of the Majorites, or Preaching
Friars, where he made a sermon, which was never seen before, the one
order to come and resort to the other, beginning in the aforesaid
matter to reply, and to expound in order through every article as
well as he could; adding, moreover, and saying, that they went not so
far in their privileges as they lawfully might. And he said moreover,
that what time the said privileges were in obtaining in Rome, the
Bishop Ambianensis was there present himself, resisting the same with
all his power; yea, all the prelates also of France sent and wrote up
to the court against the same, and yet did not prevail. For when the
friars there presently declared and opened to the pope in what manner
and how far they had used their privileges, the pope the same time
said, Placet, that is, agreed unto the same. "And now," saith he,
"the prelates require and demand of us to send up our privileges to
the court, which were great folly in us. For in so doing, what should
we else but give place and occasion to revoke again the authority
which is given into our hands already? Furthermore, our warden and
master is now lately dead, and the master here of the Dominic Friars
is not now present. Wherefore we dare not determine in such a weighty
cause, touching the privileges of our order, without the presence of
them. And therefore we desire you of the university to hold us
therein excused, and not to be so lightly stirred against us, for we
are not the worst and vilest part of the university," &c.

The next day, being the eighth day of the same month, is also
dedicate to the conception of our Lady; upon which day it was
determined likewise, that one of the Dominic Friars should preach in
the church of the Franciscan or Grey Friars; and so he did, tending
to the same end, as the other friar in the other church had done
before. Whereto it may seem the proverb well answered, whereof we
read in the Gospel, Facti sunt amici Herodes et Pilatus in ipso die.

It was not long after that the feast of St. Thomas the apostle
followed, in whose vigil all the heads of the university again were
warned the third day after to congregate together in the church of
St. Bernard at the sermon time. Which being done, and the assembly
meeting together, another sermon was made by a divine of the
university, whose theme was, Prope est dominus omnibus invocantibus
eum in veritate, &c.; wherein he, with many words and great
authorities, argued against them that would not be obedient unto
their prelates, &c. The sermon being ended, then rose up again the
Bishop Ambianensis, who, prosecuting the rest of the theme, and
coming to the word in veritate, divided it into three parts,
according to the common gloss of the decretals:

Est serum vitæ, doctrinæ, justitiæque,
Primum semper Habe; duo propter scandalA linque.

Showing and declaring by many authorities, both of canonical
Scriptures and out of the law, and by evident demonstration of
experience, that the friars first had no verity of life, because they
were full of hypocrisy; neither had they verity of doctrine, because
in their heart they bare gall, and in their tongue honey; neither
verity of justice, because they usurped other men's offices. And thus
concluding with the same, he caused again to be read the said
privileges, with the constitution above specified. And so expounding
place by place, he did argue and prove that the said constitution in
no part was evacuate or infringed by the privileges aforesaid. Which
thing being declared, he added, moreover, that, "whereas the friars
say," saith he, "that I should be present in the obtaining of the
privileges, I grant it to be true; and when word came to me thrice
thereof, I went to the pope, reclaiming and requiring the said
privileges to be revoked; but the next day after, it so pleased the
pope to send me out abroad upon weighty affairs, so that then the
matter had no end. After that, we sent also other messengers with our
letters, for the same cause, unto the court of Rome, whom the friars
say not to have prevailed, but they lie therein; for the said
messengers again brought us letters from the chief of the court of
Rome, sealed with their seals; which letters we have divers times
presented to our king, and will shortly show them unto you all; in
the which letters the load pope hath promised the said privileges
either to be utterly abrogate, or else to be mitigated with some more
plain interpretation, of the which we trust shortly to have the
public bull or writ from the pope."

At last the said bishop required and desired of all there, of what
diocess or country soever they were, that they would copy out the
aforesaid privileges, and send them abroad into their countries, that
all men might see what they were, and how far they did extend. In
fine, the matter coming into open disputation, it was concluded by
Master Giles, one of the Augustine friars, (who was thought to be 
most reasonable of all the other friars,) in this wise, that after
his sentence the prelates were in the truer part.

Concerning this wrangling contention between the university and
friars of France, here before mentioned, whereof partly the original
cause may be understood, by that which hath been said, to rise upon
certain privileges granted by popes to the friars, to intermeddle in
matters of parish churches; as to hear confessions, to preach and
teach, with power thereto annexed to gather for their labour, to bury
within their houses, and to receive impropriations, &c., because it
were too long here to describe the full circumstances thereof, also
because the said contention did endure a long time not only in
France, but also came over into England; the whole discourse thereof
more amply, Christ willing, shall be declared in the beginning of the
next book following, when we come to the story of Armachanus.

About what time and year this brawl was in the university of Paris,
between the friars and prelates there, as hath been declared, the
like contention happened also in the university of Oxford, in the
year above prefixed, 1354, save only that the strife among the
masters of Paris, as it rose upon friarly ceremonies, so it went no
further than brawling words and matter of excommunication; but this
tumult, rising of a drunken cause, proceeded further unto bloody
stripes. The first original whereof began in a tavern, between a
scholar and the good man of the house; who, falling together in
altercation, grew to such heat of words, that the student (contra jus
hospitii) poured the wine upon the head of the host, and brake his
head with the quart pot. Upon this occasion given, eftsoons parts
began to be taken between the townsmen and the scholars; insomuch
that grievous sedition and conflict followed upon the same, wherein
many of the townsmen were wounded, and to the, number of twenty
slain; divers also of the scholars were grievously hurt. The space of
two days this hurly-burly continued. Upon the second day certain
religious and devout persons ordained a solemn procession general, to
pray for peace. Yet notwithstanding all that procession, as holy as
it was, it would not bring peace. In the which procession, the
skirmish still waxing hot, one of the students, being hardly pursued
by the townsmen, for succour in his flight came running to the priest
or friar, who carried about, as the manner was, the pix; thinking to
find refuge at the presence of the transubstantiated god of the altar
there carried imboxed. Notwithstanding, the god being not there
present, or else not seeing him, or else peradventure being asleep,
the scholar found there small help; for the townsmen in heat of the
chase, forgetting belike the virtue of the pope's transubstantiation,
followed him so hard, that in the presence of the pix they brake his
head, and wounded him grievously. This done, at length some peace or
truce for that day was taken. The next morrow following, other
townsmen in the villages about, joining with the townsmen of Oxford,
confederated together in great force and power to set upon the
students there, and so did, having a black flag borne before them,
and so invaded the university men; whereupon the scholars being
overmatched, and compelled to flee into their halls and hostels, were
so pursued by their enemies, that twenty of the doors of their halls
and chambers were broke open, and many of them wounded, and, as it is
said, slain and thrown into privies; their books with knives and
bills cut all in pieces, and much of their goods carried away. And
thus the students of that university, being conquered by the townsmen
of Oxford, and of the country about, departed and left the
university; so that for a time the schools there, and all school
acts, did utterly cease from all exercise of study, except only
Merton college-hall, with a few other remaining behind.

This being done the twelfth day of February, the queen at the same
time being at Woodstock was brought to bed, and purified on the first
Sunday in Lent, with great solemnity of jousting. About which time
the bishop of Lincoln, their diocesan, hearing of this excessive
outrage, sendeth his inhibition to all parsons and priests,
forbidding them throughout all Oxford, to celebrate mass or any
divine service in the presence of any lay person within the said town
of Oxford, interdicting withal the whole town; which interdiction
endured the space of a whole year and more.

The king also sent thither his justices to examine and inquire of the
matter, before whom divers laymen and of the clergy were indicted,
and four of the chief burgesses of the said town were indicted, and
by the king's commandment sent to the Tower of London, and were there
imprisoned. At length, through much labour of the nobles, the king so
took up the matter, that sending his writings unto all sheriffs in
England, he offered pardon to all and singular students of that
university, wheresoever dispersed, for that transgression; whereby
the university in short time was replenished again as before.
Moreover, it was granted to the vice-chancellor or commissary, as
they term him, of the town and university of Oxford, to have the
assize of bread, ale, wine, and all other victual, the mayor of the
said town being excluded. Also it was granted and decreed, that the
commons of Oxford should give to the university of Oxford two hundred
pounds sterling, in part of satisfaction for their excesses;
reserved, notwithstanding, to every one of the students his several
action against any several person of the townsmen, &c.

About the year of our Lord 1354, the king, with the consent of his
council, revoked home again out of Flanders the staple of wool, with
all things thereunto appertaining, and stablished the same in sundry
places within the realm, namely, in Westminster, Canterbury,
Chichester, Bristol, Lincoln, and in Hull; which staple, after A.D.
1362, was translated over into Calais.

Of Simon Islip, archbishop of Canterbury, mentioned a little before,
I read in the said author above specified, that he, by his letters
patent, directed to all parsons and vicars within his province,
straitly charged them and their parishioners, under pain of
excommunication, not to abstain from bodily labour upon certain
saints' days, which before were wont to be hallowed and consecrated
to unthrifty idleness. Item, that to priests should be given no more
for their yearly stipend, but three pounds, six shillings, and eight
pence, which made divers of them to rob and steal, &c. A.D. 1362. The
next year following, which was 1363, the aforesaid King Edward kept
his parliament at London, in the month of October; wherein was
prohibited, that gold nor silver should be worn in knives, girdles,
brooches, rings, or in any other ornament belonging to the body,
except the wearer might dispend ten pounds a year. Item, that none
should wear either silks or costly furs, except such as might dispend
one hundred pounds a year. Also that merchant venturers should not
export over any merchandise out of the realm, or seek for wines in
other countries; whereby other nations should be constrained rather
to seek to us, &c. But none of this did take any great effect.

After this Simon Islip, as is above recorded, followed Simon Langham,
then William Wittlesey, after whom next in the place succeeded Simon
Sudbury.
Much about the same time the nuns of St. Bridget's order began first;
about which time also was builded the Queen's college in Oxford, by
Queen Philippa of England, wife to King Edward the Third.

Moreover, in the time of this Pope Innocent, friar John Lyle, bishop
of Ely, moved with certain injuries, as he thought, done to him by
the Lady Blanch, made his complaint to the pope; who sending down his
curse to the bishop of Lincoln and other prelates, to be executed
upon the adversaries of the bishop of Ely, commanded them, that if
they did know any of the said adversaries dead and buried, that
notwithstanding, they should cause the same to be taken up: which
also they performed accordingly, of whom some had been of the king's
council; wherefore the king being displeased, and not unworthily, did
trouble and molest again the said prelates. This coming to the pope's
hearing, certain were directed down from the court of Rome, in the
behalf of the aforesaid bishop of Ely, who meeting with the bishop of
Rochester, the king's treasurer, delivered unto him, being armed,
letters from the bishop of Rome, the tenor whereof was not known.
Which done, they incontinently avoided away; but certain of the
king's servants pursuing, did overtake them; of whom some they
imprisoned, some they brought to the justices, and so they were
condemned to be hanged. Wherein may appear what reverence the pope's
letters, in this king's days, had in this realm of England. This Pope
Innocent ordained the feast of the Holy Spear, and of the Holy Nails.

Forasmuch as Satan, being chained up all this while for the space of
a thousand years, beginneth about this time to be loosed and to come
abroad, according to the forewarning of St. John's Revelation;
therefore, to conclude the Fourth Book, wherein sufficiently hath
been described the excessive pride and pomp of antichrist,
flourishing in his ruff and security, from the time of William the
Conqueror hitherto; now, Christ willing and assisting us thereunto,
we mind in these latter books hereafter following, in order of
history to express the latter persecutions and horrible troubles of
the church, raised up by Satan, in his minister antichrist, with the
resistance again of Christ's church against him. And so to prosecute,
by the merciful grace of Christ, the proceeding and course of times,
till we come at length to the fall and ruin of the said antichrist;
to the intent that if any be in such error to think that antichrist
is yet to come, he may consider and ponder well the tragical rages,
the miserable and most sorrowful persecutions, murders, and vexations
of these latter three hundred years now following, and then I doubt
not but he will be put out of all doubt, and know that not only
antichrist is already come, but also will know where he sitteth, and
how he is now falling apace, the Lord Christ be thanked for ever, to
his decay and confusion.

END OF PART 1