Reformation of the Commonwealth: Thomas Becon and the Politics of Evangelical Change in Tudor England [1 ed.] 9783666554544, 9783525554548

Citation preview

Brian L. Hanson

Reformation of the Commonwealth Thomas Becon and the Politics of Evangelical Change in Tudor England

Reformed Historical Theology Edited by Herman J. Selderhuis in Co-operation with Emidio Campi, Irene Dingel, Benyamin Intan, Elsie Anne McKee, Richard Muller, and Risto Saarinen

Volume 58

Brian L. Hanson

Reformation of the Commonwealth Thomas Becon and the Politics of Evangelical Change in Tudor England

Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht

Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek: The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data available online: http://dnb.de. © 2019, Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht GmbH & Co. KG, Theaterstraße 13, D-37073 Göttingen All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission from the publisher. Typesetting: 3w+p, Rimpar Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht Verlage | www.vandenhoeck-ruprecht-verlage.com ISSN 2197-1137 ISBN 978-3-666-55454-4

Contents

Acknowledgements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Abbreviations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Chapter 1. Thomas Becon’s early theology: evangelical conversion and household piety in the ‘common weale’ . . . . . . . . . . . . Becon’s early years . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Becon’s years in hiding in Kent . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The Henrician Writings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Household piety and the Word of God . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Becon’s doctrine of justification . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Becon’s vision for a ‘godly common weale’ . . . . . . . . . . . . Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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25 26 35 38 41 47 53 62

Chapter 2. Nicodemism, silence, and companionship . . . . . Becon’s arrest and recantation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ‘A time to kepe scilence’: The problem of exile and silence . Wandering in the wilderness, 1543–1547 . . . . . . . . . . . Assessing the years of wandering . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Chapter 3. Thomas Becon and his ‘Christen common weale’: clerical reform and charity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Edwardian reformation and Becon’s restoration . . . . . . . . Becon and the ‘common weale’ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ‘Deliver thy people out of Egypte’: Polemic and clerical reform Poverty and poor relief in the commonwealth . . . . . . . . . Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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89 91 94 99 111 122

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Chapter 4. The evangelicals and gender in the ‘common weale’ Becon’s view of women . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Gender and female identity in the Marian ‘common weale’ . Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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125 125 132 144

Chapter 5. Dangerous print in the ‘common weale’: Prophecies and plagues . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Prophecies as Political Protest . . . . . . . . . . . Rebel Political Rhetoric . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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145 147 158 165

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Chapter 6. Marian Exile: The legacy of reformation and Becon’s evolving theology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . The extent of reformation and Becon’s theological evolution . . . . . . Becon’s Polemic: the Catholic Mass and the spiritual nurture of children . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Becon’s rhetorical devices: religious polemic and sensory stimulation. Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

167 170 184 190 200

Chapter 7. ‘Sedicious’ words: Becon and the art of ‘rayling’ . . . . . . . . ‘Sedicious’ words: Thomas Becon and the rhetoric of political protest and rebellion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Bibliography . . . . . . . . Manuscript Sources . . . Printed Primary Sources Secondary Sources . . . Unpublished Theses . . .

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223 223 224 228 237

Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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Appendix . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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206 217

Acknowledgements

The formidable task of writing a book is not an individual venture. I am grateful to Andrew Pettegree for his continual support and guidance throughout the writing process. His wealth of knowledge regarding the history of the book as well as the exilic experiences of the evangelicals was insightful to my research. I am also indebted to Jacqueline Rose for reading numerous drafts and sharing her vast knowledge of sixteenth-century literature. She consistently challenged my arguments and encouraged me to consider possible lines of enquiry. Both Roger Mason and Jon Balserak were kind enough to discuss ideas and offer helpful advice. I am grateful to Prof. Dr. Herman J. Selderhuis, editor of the Reformed Historical Theology series, Dr. Elisabeth Hernitscheck, and the staff at Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht for their support, encouragement, and kind assistance during the publication process. I would also like to thank The Davenant Trust for funding my archival research in London and Kent. I am grateful for the countless staff members of libraries and archives who assisted me during my archival research: University of St Andrews, Lambeth Palace Library in London, National Archives in Kew, London Metropolitan Archives, Kent History and Library Centre in Maidstone, and The British Library. I am also grateful for John Hendy of the Romney Marsh Historic Churches Trust in England for his kind assistance in confirming information regarding Becon’s ministerial activities at St Eanswith, Brenzett. My five precious children – Stefan, Olivia, Silas, Elliott, and Maisie – have patiently endured the past years of writing this book. They have heard me share my research findings at the dinner table. I hope that they have gleaned many rewarding lessons from what was shared, and will be inspired by these things. I am thankful most of all for my dear wife, Johanna, who has demonstrated such longsuffering through it all. Without her undying support and immense sacrifice this book would have been impossible. I am grateful for her spiritual, moral, and practical support through these years of research and writing. The fulfilment of this endeavour is, in large part, due to her faithfulness, love, and encouragement.

Abbreviations

BL LMA ODNB PC SP TNA

The British Library, London, UK London Metropolitan Archives Oxford Dictionary of National Bibliography Privy Council of England State Papers, The National Archives, Kew, UK The National Archives, Kew, UK

Introduction

In this work, I examine the commonwealth rhetoric of the early English evangelicals, using Thomas Becon (1512–1567), the prolific pamphleteer, London cleric, Christian humanist, and one of the leading ‘commonwealth men’ of his day. In light of his voluminous output, around thirty-five published tracts with many more editions, it is crucial to consider Becon’s view of a ‘godly’ commonwealth in the context of England’s ever-changing evangelical reformation.1 His pamphlets compass a span of twenty-five years, 1541–1566, and demonstrate an evolving vision of his ‘godly’ commonwealth model. I begin with Becon’s earliest pamphlets and examine the key themes he focused on, tracking those same themes in his later works. By doing this, I show the continuities and ruptures of his rhetoric, arguing that political, religious, and social currents directly shaped his views on the commonwealth. However, this study is not only about Becon. It places him within the larger contextual framework of early English evangelicalism, comparing and contrasting his views with those of other evangelicals including those with whom he worked closely. My work examines the ways in which these English evangelicals viewed themselves in relation to the commonwealth. Many early modern scholars have noted the intersection of religion and politics in the English commonwealth. But the precise ways in which the evangelicals participated in and expressed their political and theological views of the commonwealth have yet to be thoroughly explored. Some scholars of early modern England have oversimplified the evangelicals’ views of and visions for a ‘godly’ commonwealth, and have failed to address the fine nuances of evangelical commonwealth ideology. While this work is a historical study, drawing from English Reformation historiography by acknowledging the chronology of reform, it also utilizes methods of social history and historical theology to explore the evangelical concept of ‘common weale’ in sixteenth-century England. Therefore, this work 1 See Appendix, Table 1. A precise number of printed tracts for Becon is difficult to determine. Several titles of disputed authorship may have been penned by Becon.

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Introduction

engages with humanist texts on poor relief, companionship, gender, household governance, economy, and religious prophecy in order to demonstrate the intersection of commonwealth rhetoric with Renaissance humanism. This kind of interdisciplinary approach is crucial in unpacking the multifaceted meaning of ‘common weale’ and its implications within the English evangelical community. At the outset of this study, it is necessary to define the terminology of ‘evangelical’ as used in this work. ‘Evangelical’ and ‘Protestant’ are often used interchangeably in scholarship without any clear distinction. The term ‘evangelicall’ began to appear widely in adjectival form in English print in the 1530s. As the term in the Greek denotes anything pertaining to the gospel, writers of English tracts not only used it in this manner, but Catholic writers specifically described anyone who opposed or protested against Rome as ‘evangelicall’. For instance, Thomas More derided William Tyndale and Robert Barnes for being of the ‘evangelycall bretherhed’.2 At the same time, the early evangelicals did not reject the ‘evangelicall’ label. Richard Taverner in 1539 did not hesitate to count himself among those who embraced ‘evangelicall libertie and trouthe of gods worde’ in contrast with the teaching of the ‘Romisshe byshop our archenemie and the moste pestilent overthrower of al godlynes’.3 Becon himself identified himself with the ‘evangelical trueth’ and encouraged the conservatives not to ‘hynder’ it.4 Like Taverner three years prior, Becon also established a clear distinction between ‘the evangelicall verite’ and the teaching of the ‘wicked Papistes’, ‘oweles’, and ‘antechristes’.5 From Becon’s perspective, the dividing line lay in how the two positions viewed biblical authority. Becon argued that the papists ‘despisy[e] the moost confortable lyght of Goddes worde’ and ‘walke in the darkenes of mennes tradicions’.6 Another primary distinction Becon submitted was the evangelicals’ view of ‘regeneracion and newe byrth’, specifically the role of ‘fayth’ in salvation.7 ‘Protestant’ did not enter English print until 1555 when Bishop Edmund Bonner used it as a derogatory term to describe those ‘newe fangled wyttes’ who flaunt the ‘glorious badge of a protestaunt’.8 Nicholas Ridley accepted the fact that he was a ‘protestante’, affirming ‘my protestation shall be this that my minde is and 2 Thomas More, The apologye of syr Thomas More knight (London: W. Rastell, 1533) STC 18078, sig. D2v. 3 Richard Taverner, A catechisme or institution of the christen religion (London: R. Bankes, 1539) STC 23709, sigs. A4r–v. 4 Thomas Becon, A Christmas bankette (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1713, sig. G4v. 5 Thomas Becon, A newe pathway unto praier (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1734, sig. R6r. 6 Becon, Newe pathway unto praier, sigs. R8r–v. 7 Becon, Newe pathway unto praier, sigs. G7v, R6r. 8 Edmund Bonner, A profitable and necessarye doctrine (London: John Cawoode, 1555) STC 3283.3, sig. D2v.

Introduction

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ever shalbe (God willing) to set furth syncerlye the true sense and meaning to the beste of myne understanding of Gods most holye worde’.9 Given that ‘evangelical’ was the original and predominant term before 1555, I have reserved ‘evangelical’ to refer to non-Catholic Christians before 1555. While I generally continue to use ‘evangelical’ for uniformity’s sake when referring to contexts after 1555, I occasionally use ‘Protestant’ synonymously in keeping with the English evangelicals’ own usage. As sixteenth-century England vacillated in its religious direction and social priorities, the evangelicals were faced with a political conundrum and the tension between obedience and ‘lawful’ disobedience. There was ultimately a fundamental disagreement on the nature and criteria of obedience. This work makes a further contribution to the emerging conversation about English commonwealth politics by examining the important issues of obedience and disobedience within the evangelical community. It will analyse the specific ways in which evangelicals used rebel political rhetoric including ‘sedicious’ words, ‘raylings’ against authority, and treasonous euphemisms. A correct assessment of the issues surrounding the relationship between evangelicals and the commonwealth government will lead to a rediscovery and appreciation of both the complexities of evangelical commonwealth rhetoric and the tension between the biblical command to submit to civil authorities and the injunction to ‘obey God rather than man’. My work also examines the ways in which these English evangelicals viewed themselves in relation to the commonwealth. Many early modern scholars have noted the intersection of religion and politics in the English commonwealth. But the precise ways in which the evangelicals participated in and expressed their political and theological views of the commonwealth have yet to be thoroughly explored. This work seeks to fill this particular void in the scholarship of early modern studies. In this study I argue that the commonwealth views held by the early evangelicals were situation-dependent rather than uniform over time. Indeed, there were sharp differences between the political views of some evangelicals. These differences will be considered within the larger backdrop of the intricately complex, and sometimes messy world of Tudor politics. The evangelicals’ own personal experiences and local situations including exile, friendship, and selfimage also formed their perceptions of the commonwealth. In Becon’s own case it was his experiences as a tutor, domestic and continental exile, practiser of Nicodemism, clergyman of several parishes, and confidant of some high profile evangelicals including Cranmer and Somerset. 9 Nicholas Ridley, Certe[n] godly, learned, and comfortable conferences (Strasbourg, 1556) STC 21048, sig. F4r.

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Introduction

Scholarship has generally not been generous to Becon. While most scholars of the English Reformation cite Becon, he rarely receives a serious reading. His quotations are typically submitted as examples of religious polemic and are rarely considered in their full context. At times, he is cited for his signature sarcastic wit in decrying social evils in England. But again, his writings are often mispresented and extracted from its broader historical context. He has often been lumped together with ‘radicals’ and ‘Puritans’.10 This is a blatantly oversimplified and myopic view of Becon’s multifaceted identity. Such a characterisation is unfortunate and has negatively shaped the general perception of Becon in scholarship as one only useful for his colourful sayings. This egregious oversight by scholars entirely misses Becon’s significant contribution to early modern English religion and society. I will demonstrate throughout this study how Becon’s writings, properly understood, shed light on many issues of Tudor society: poverty and poor relief, evangelical education and catechising, and sedition and rebellion to name but a few. This work will aim to set Becon in his proper historical and theological context and to assess his writings in light of that context. Becon, born in Thetford, Norfolk in either 1512 or 1513, was educated at St John’s College, Cambridge where he was deeply moved by the Lutheran-influenced teachings of professors Hugh Latimer and George Stafford. Upon his graduation around 1532, he became a tutor to youth for about six years. During this time, he became acquainted with the influential Thomas Wentworth, a patron and supporter of many early evangelical clergy. In 1538 Wentworth arranged for Becon to take the post of chantrist at St Lawrence in Ipswich, Suffolk. One year later, he was installed as vicar of St Eanswythe parish in the small southeastern Kent village of Brenzett. With the ratification of the Six Articles of 1539, Henry VIII targeted the evangelicals for non-compliance and ‘heresy’. Becon was arrested in 1541 for ‘evil and false doctrine’. During his trial he recanted. After his recantation Becon kept a low profile in Kent and resided with several prominent men who were evangelicals, men such as Sir Thomas Neville and George Brooke. Between 1541 and 1543 Becon produced numerous tracts under the pseudonym of ‘Theodore Basil’ in order to avoid any suspicion. He was arrested again in 1543 and tried at Paul’s Cross where he read his second recantation statement. From 1543 to 1547 Becon went into exile in the Midlands, beginning in the Peak District. During this second exile, he chose ‘silence’ and mobility in order to evade arrest. His journeys in the Midlands allowed him to 10 Emory Elliott, Power and the Pulpit in Puritan New England (Princeton, 1975), pp. 63–64; Mike Rodman Jones, Radical Pastoral, 1381–1594 (Surrey, 2011), p. 40; Kathrine Koller, ‘The Puritan Preacher’s Contribution to Fiction’, The Huntington Library Quarterly 11 (1948), pp. 322, 324, 325, 327; David Zaret, The Heavenly Contract: Ideology and Organization in PreRevolutionary Puritanism (Chicago, 1985), p. 78.

Introduction

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develop new friendships with the covert evangelical community in that region. When Edward VI ascended the throne in 1547, Becon returned to London where he was appointed chaplain to Protector Somerset’s household. Around the same time he became rector of St Stephen Walbrook in London. Sometime in the late 1540s, he married Elizabeth Godfrey, though little else is known of her. Becon resumed writing tracts during the Edwardian era, his works focusing on the social ills of London with the exception of Fortresse of the faythfull that addresses the 1549 uprisings in Norfolk. With Mary’s accession to the throne on 3 August 1553, many evangelicals were arrested shortly after including Becon on 16 August. Becon was released from the Tower on 22 March 1554. Taking no risks, he immediately fled to Strasbourg where he joined a community of other exiled English evangelicals. Becon published two tracts of religious polemic while in Strasbourg. He relocated to Frankfurt, most likely in March 1555, to join the community of English exiles there at its insistence as part of a controversy over the liturgy of the English church. In 1556 Becon moved to Marburg to reunite with his wife. He taught at the university, tutored the son of Philip of Hesse, and composed one tract while in Marburg. During their residence there, Elizabeth gave birth to two children, Theodore and Rachel. When Becon returned from the Continent in 1559, he went through a series of clerical appointments until his death in 1567. He was a prebendary of Canterbury Cathedral, rector of Buckland, Herfordshire, vicar at Christ Church in Newgate, vicar at Sturry, and rector at St Dionis Backchurch in London. Finally, in 1563 he held a brief rectorship at his former cure, St Stephen, Walbrook. Becon was also in popular demand for preaching engagements including venues such as Paul’s Cross. In addition to his extensive activity, he continued to compose pamphlets regarding both religious and political concerns. He died in 1567, having lived under four Tudor monarchs. The only extensive work on Becon is Derrick Sherwin Bailey’s 1952 treatment of Becon’s career and writings.11 Bailey gave an uncharitable reading of Becon, relegating him to merely a ‘propagandist’ and a ‘vociferous shouter of slogans’.12 He contended throughout his work that Becon’s writings place him outside ‘the mainstream of Christian tradition’.13 But Bailey failed to substantiate that claim. There are only five pages summarising Becon’s tracts. In contrast, my research will argue that once Becon’s writings are properly read and contextualised, they

11 Derrick Sherwin Bailey, Thomas Becon and the Reformation of the Church in England (Edinburgh, 1952). 12 Bailey, Thomas Becon, p. xiv. 13 Bailey, Thomas Becon, p. xiv.

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Introduction

provide deeper illumination to current scholarship on commonwealth rhetoric, rebel language, and anti-popery. Earlier studies of the political history of early modern England have centred primarily on the fundamental components of the Tudor commonwealth. Recent historians of early modern commonwealth literature have also narrowed their research to general examples and observations of seditious language, treasonous speech, and political resistance. Scott Lucas, for instance, has argued that the Myrroure for Magistrates demonstrates an attitude of political resistance and sedition during the Elizabethan period, but he never explores these specific seditious attitudes in other literature outside the Myrroure.14 While David Cressy has analyzed the use of seditious and slanderous speech against Elizabeth I herself, he does not address the rebel political language directed particularly toward the magistrates.15 Phil Withington has considered the evolution of the uses of ‘res publica’, ‘common weale’, and ‘common wealth’ during the Tudor period.16 While his meticulous tracking of these terms in relation to their frequency in print is instructive, he overlooks the specific qualities and nuances of ‘common wealth’ rhetoric, including euphemisms, negotiations, political dialogues, and the spectrum of civil disobedience. The absence of references to early Elizabethan literature in his work is particularly striking. Andy Wood’s work on rebel political vocabulary during the 1549 uprisings is a significant contribution to the understanding of perspectives on rebellion and resistance in early modern England.17 However, Wood suggests that 1549 is the termination of one genre of rebellions, and not the first of a new tradition of rebel rhetoric. In his treatment of obedience and political theology among the evangelicals, Ryan Reeves demonstrates the connection between early Swiss political teachings and the early English evangelicals’ views of ‘godly kingship’ and its antithesis, ‘papal tyranny’. Reeves argues that polemic against conservative worship and the Mass in particular increased progressively during the Edwardian era.18 He notes that the evangelical tracts against the Mass almost always appeal to the king’s authority, urging people to submit to his reforms.

14 Scott Lucas, ‘‘Let none such office take, save he that can for right his prince forsake’: A Mirror for Magistrates, Resistance Theory and the Elizabethan Monarchical Republic’ in John F. McDiarmid (ed.), The Monarchical Republic of Early Modern England (Aldershot, 2007), pp. 91–107. 15 David Cressy, Dangerous Talk: Scandalous, Seditious, and Treasonable Speech in Pre-modern England (Oxford, 2010). 16 Phil Withington, Society in Early Modern England: The Vernacular Origins of Some Powerful Ideas (Cambridge, 2010). 17 Andy Wood, The 1549 Rebellions and the Making of Early Modern England (Cambridge, 2007). 18 Ryan M. Reeves, English Evangelicals and Tudor Obedience, c. 1527–1570 (Leiden, 2014), p. 99.

Introduction

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Recent scholarship has also addressed the issues of poverty, hospitality, and charity in the Tudor commonwealth. While many scholars such as Paul Slack, Lynn A. Botelho, Claire Schen, Susan Brigden, and Marjorie McIntosh have held to the traditional view that poverty was indeed an acute problem in England, particularly during the Edwardian era, Steve Rappaport has suggested something quite the contrary. Using figures from surveys in the 16th century, he contends that the number of deserving poor in London was not nearly as high as historians have claimed.19 Rappaport has suggested that the alleged causes of poverty, the fall of wages and the increase of prices, were not as significant as has been argued by others.20 He argues that inflation was more of a gradual, steady increase over the course of many years rather than an immediate, radical change. What Rappaport fails to address, however, are the references to dire poverty in London in the late 1540s and early 1550s. For instance, Becon and other evangelicals detailed accounts of the delicate situation in London by stating actual financial figures and precise prices. Rappaport overlooks these accounts in his study. Margaret Yates also concurs with the conclusion that poverty in England was not as severe as has been portrayed by other scholars. She demonstrates that the evangelicals often exaggerated their financial figures in their tracts in order to arouse readers’ emotions.21 Using the evangelical Henry Brinklow as a case study, she argues that the evangelicals deliberately fudged their figures. Their level of frustration, she observes, affected their rhetoric and may have influenced them to embellish some facts.22 While certainly there was truth in what they were communicating, many of the evangelicals resorted to embellishment. Other recent scholars of early modern English society such as Marjorie McIntosh have examined the mechanics of poor relief in early modern England. McIntosh’s work is useful in understanding the distinctions between individual, face-to-face charity and alms and that of relief by parishes. She has argued that until around 1550 all poor relief was voluntary, though both the Catholics and evangelicals made it mandatory in their instructions to their parishioners.23 Both she and Lynn A. Botelho note the connection between ‘Christian humanism’ and a concern for the poor.24 Botelho asserts that evangelicals and conservatives shared similar concerns for the poor, and both deliberately sought ways to relieve the poor. She argues that evangelicals were strongly influenced by Catholic methodology of poor relief. Steve Hindle demonstrates that the evangelicals in 19 Rappaport, Worlds within worlds, p. 169. 20 Rappaport, Worlds within worlds, pp. 151, 153, 155, 160. 21 Margaret Yates, ‘Between fact and fiction: Henry Brinklow’s Complaynt against rapacious landlords’, The Agricultural History Review 54 (2006), pp. 24–25. 22 Yates, ‘Between fact and fiction’, p. 44. 23 Marjorie McIntosh, Poor relief in England, 1350–1600 (Cambridge, 2014), p. 12. 24 L. A. Botelho, Old age and the English poor law, 1500–1700 (Woodbridge, 2004), pp. 9–10.

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Introduction

their literature were reluctant to make any distinctions between the deserving and the undeserving poor. But in practice, especially in the second half of the sixteenth century, church leaders and donors became more selective in their poor relief.25 Claire Schen has demonstrated that parish churches, beginning in the Edwardian period, had a more active role in the community in exercising charity. For instance, parishes began apprenticing children in honest labor and caring for children.26 The threat of children being employed as prostitutes necessitated a calculated response from the London parishes. Schen also argues that both the state and the churches during Edward’s reign began taking on an active, joint role in instituting moral reform among the poor.27 The undeserving poor, vagabonds in particular, were admonished to work. Punishments of vagabonds were frequent and harsh, intending to galvanise change in their moral behaviour. Because Becon and other evangelicals incorporated gendered anti-popery metaphors and also highlighted the role of women and their function in society, my study also interacts with recent scholarship on the evangelicals’ view of gender roles and use of gendered language. It has been argued by Katherine Dean, Frances E. Dolan, and Arthur Marotti that the English evangelicals associated the Catholic church with ‘feminine’ qualities, such as frailty and carnality.28 They point to the examples in evangelical print of the link between the ‘weaker sex’ and the Catholic church, particularly in the use of gendered metaphors. For example, Arthur Marotti has contended that English evangelicals were guilty of ‘Protestant misogyny’ in their anti-papist rhetoric, viewing evangelical Christianity as ‘masculinized’ and associating anything contrary to it with ‘feminine’ qualities.29 However, this is an overgeneralisation. While the evangelicals did ascribe feminine terms and qualities to the Catholic church and the pope, they were just as willing to associate masculine terms and images to the pope. As Chapter 3 shows, there are countless examples of masculine metaphors that describe the Catholic church, and all of those examples reveal some type of masculine ‘weakness’. Some of those images that the evangelicals used displayed the excessive ‘masculinity’ of the church. This excessive ‘masculinity’ was certainly not a positive quality, thus countering the arguments of most scholars who 25 Steve Hindle, On the Parish? The Micro-Politics of Poor Relief in Rural England, c.1550–1750 (Oxford, 2004), p. 100. 26 Clarie S. Schen, Charity and Lay Piety in Reformation London (Aldershot, 2002), p. 95. 27 Schen, Charity and Lay Piety, p. 94. 28 Katherine Dean, ‘The gendered language of anti-papist polemic in England, 1603–1702’ (PhD thesis, University of Cambridge, 2000); Frances E. Dolan, Whores of Babylon: Catholicism, gender and seventeenth-century print culture (Ithaca, 1999); Arthur F. Marotti, Religious ideology and cultural fantasy: Catholic and anti-Catholic discourses in early modern England (South Bend, 2005). 29 Marotti, Religious ideology, pp. 36–37.

Introduction

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downplay this negative use of masculinity by the evangelicals. Unfortunately, most of the works addressing the subject devote attention to the Elizabethan era, leaving a sizeable gap in gender studies related to the late Henrician and Edwardian reigns. In relation to the evangelicals’ views of the roles of women in early modern English society, most scholars have concluded that early modern English women were restricted within their domestic space and coerced to submit to their husbands. For instance, Christine Peters has argued that women were viewed as mere ‘vessels’ and were associated with frailty. Consequently, both single and married women were subject to masculine authority. They were expected to be modest, quiet, and humble. Female piety, she has concluded, is depicted as tantamount to physical and emotional weakness.30 Likewise, Amanda Flather has noted that women’s space in early modern England demonstrated that evangelicals imposed limitations upon women. Domestic, sacred, and social spaces inhibited women from having true expression of themselves.31 Other scholars have pointed out the restrictions of women in working outside the home or practising charity and poor relief in the community.32 My study takes a different position from these scholars and complements the view of Melissa Frankin Harkrider.33 She has demonstrated that early modern English evangelical women were more involved in church and social life than has been portrayed. While most historians have focused their attention on evangelical women from upper class circles including the royal court and the female ‘sustainers’ during the Marian persecution, it is important to note that the ‘sustainers’ during the Henrician and Edwardian reigns made substantial contributions. Harkrider has noted that many ‘common’ evangelical women contributed financially and emotionally to the poor commons.34 ‘Sustainers’, like Mary Glover whom Becon interacted with during his domestic exile in the Midlands, developed close friendships with aristocratic, evangelical women.35 While it is true that Becon and other evangelicals do highlight the domestic, submissive roles of women in order to align with the teachings of the Bible, it is crucial not to overlook the evangelicals’ references to women outside their domestic realm. For instance, Becon frequently stressed the roles of women outside 30 Christine Peters, Patterns of piety: Women, gender and religion in late medieval and Reformation England (Cambridge, 2003), p. 197. 31 Amanda Flather, Gender and Space in Early Modern England (Woodbridge, 2007), pp. 141– 143. 32 Rappaport, Worlds within worlds, p. 40; Schen, Charity and Lay Piety, pp. 241–245. 33 Melissa Franklin-Harkrider, Women, reform and community in early modern England (Woodbridge, 2008). 34 Harkrider, Women, reform and community, p. 61. 35 Harkrider, Women, reform and community, p. 62.

20

Introduction

the home and within the Christian community. Female piety for Becon was not merely limited to internal emotions and ‘weakness’ as many scholars argue. Rather, female piety entailed active, external service for the church community as well as giving succour to the poor and vagabonds on the streets. Each chapter of this study focuses on a specific aspect of Becon’s understanding of a ‘godly’ commonwealth, explored chronologically. These investigations into Becon’s evolving political and theological convictions support my larger argument that evangelical commonwealth ideology was situation-dependent and was shaped by political and social issues of the time. The latter chapters of this work will also draw connections to themes previously by discussing both continuities and ruptures. Chapter 1 introduces Becon by exploring his early career as an educator and young cleric and placing him within the broader early evangelical experience in Henrician England. While thoroughly evangelical in his outlook, Becon was unique in his own portrayal of his evangelical status as well as in the content of his writings on piety. While maintaining an evangelical concept of conversion, Becon’s portrayal of his own spiritual journey was atypical for Henrician evangelicals. Furthermore, his writings on evangelical themes were unusual given that evangelical print in the early 1540s was rare, and what little was being written by evangelicals was primarily doctrinal. Becon’s writings on lay piety were intended to be both instructive and polemical as they entered a market dominated by Catholic print on lay piety. Already in his early career, he was becoming a popular pamphleteer, and several of his tracts were bestsellers. This chapter also addresses the relationship between the language of ‘common weale’ and evangelical household piety in the writings of Becon with particular reference to A Christmas bankette, a manual on household governance, published in 1541. Becon’s views on evangelical households were deeply rooted in his vision of a ‘godly common weale’, one intricately linked to the written Word of God, primarily Old Testament teachings. For Becon, household piety had its moorings in the second greatest command of the New Testament, ‘you shall love your neighbor as you love yourself ’.36 Household piety was rooted in the idea of Christian humanism, specifically in its concern of worldly needs and charitable acts, all performed for the benefit of the ‘common weale’. Becon’s concept of a ‘godly houshold’ in terms of both evangelical piety and humanist themes challenges current ideas regarding early modern household piety. Becon’s writings are a crucial component of exploring the relationship between Tudor domestic household piety and charitable acts outside the domestic sphere for the sake of the ‘common weale’.

36 Matthew 22:37.

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21

I also explore Becon’s doctrine of justification and evangelical conversion within his Henrician tracts, doctrines that undergird his early views of a Christian ‘publique weale’. I will argue that Becon’s theology was Lutheran to the core. Becon’s works incorporated binaries and emotive language to define evangelical conversion. The chapter also argues that Becon’s theology of conversion is foundational in understanding his vision to transform society. He insisted that conversion was the means of producing a godly society. That godly society would be the very people of God, a concept he derived from Old Testament covenant theology. Becon’s understanding of a godly ‘publique weale’ centred around individual virtue and godliness rather than on societal woes. Chapter 2 examines Becon’s years of exile and silence in the Midlands, a period of self-reflection and evaluation. His retrospective account of his exile admitted that he deliberately chose silence, yet he justified that silence. Becon’s silence presents a historical dilemma in that it portrays him as a cleric who abandoned his calling and his sheep in time of need. The chapter explores this problem of silence in exile in conjunction with his Nicodemism and constant mobility during his exile. His perpetual movement during his domestic exile allowed him to kindle and develop new friendships, relationships that nourished his soul in vital ways. His travels also afforded him the opportunity to observe the state of religion in England. Becon’s critical observations on the spiritual state of some rural communities served as the basis for his push for radical clerical reform during the Edwardian years. His detailed commentary on worship, clergy, and education in the locales he visited displayed a continued interest in commonwealth themes. Furthermore, these observations in the mid-1540s were crucial to Becon’s thinking and his ideal of a state-church. They would become the stimuli for Becon to drive ecclesiastical and clerical reform in England when he himself would have oversight and influence. Chapter 3 evaluates the commonwealth ideology of the evangelicals and the ways in which they juxtaposed theology with commonwealth rhetoric during the Somerset era. While the evangelicals possessed confidence that a ‘Christen publique weale’ could be realised in England, they also expressed indignation with the moral corruption of the commonwealth. Hence, Becon’s writings in the early 1550s were a fusion of unbridled optimism and dark pessimism over England’s future. Becon did not hesitate to pronounce what he believed would be God’s imminent and certain judgment. His vision of a ‘Christen publique weale’ as a new Israel influenced him to address social issues as a prophet. Becon’s views of worship and poor relief in the Somerset regime must be understood within his ‘publique weale’ framework. While his views of charity and hospitality were fairly typical of other evangelicals, his views on worship sometimes differed from them. He envisioned a Christian commonwealth based upon the Old Testament model of a ‘godly’ people under a ‘godly’ king, both of which

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were bound to the Mosaic Law. While typical of the evangelicals in his understanding of royal authority, Becon’s voice was distinct in its urgent tone, cajoling and even threatening his readers if they rejected Edward’s reforms. While there is a sense that he was generally content with the progress of reform, Becon occasionally expressed his ire that reform was far from complete. It is within this intricate political, social, and religious context that Becon returned from domestic exile and became a prophetic voice for social justice and virtue. Chapter 4 addresses a crucial aspect that is often overlooked in scholarship: the relationship between evangelicalism and gender, particularly as it relates to women. Unfortunately, most of the works addressing the subject devote attention to the Elizabethan era, leaving a sizeable gap in gender studies for the late Edwardian and Marian periods. Until now, Thomas Becon’s views of women have been unaddressed in scholarship. While most scholars have concluded that evangelical men restricted Tudor women in their roles and limited them to lives of domesticity and submission to their husbands, I will contend that assertion is untrue with Becon. He is unique in his views of women, arguing that they should be active both within their domestic space and in the public sphere. Becon viewed the roles and activity of women as crucial to the success of the English ‘common weale’. Becon’s prayers for women, his frequent concerns for their welfare, his teachings regarding their roles in their various spaces, his submission of biblical female models, and his own interactions with women warrants a closer investigation of his views of women and his use of gendered language in his writings. This chapter will revisit a very important discussion and will seek to correct the notion that all early modern English evangelicals equally viewed women as ‘vessels’.37 Within this volatile social and political context, Becon and other evangelicals ministered in their respective parishes and composed tracts expressing their frustration with English politics and addressed men’s and women’s roles in a troubled ‘common weale’. In Chapter 5 I consider the evangelicals’ ambivalent relationship with the government and how they navigated their way through the highly complex political scene of the 1549 uprisings and the undercurrent of ‘sedicion’ that persisted until the end of Edward’s reign. The evangelicals were not merely concerned with religious or moral matters. The evangelicals’ political message was a blend of submission and treason and of political allegiance and sedition. The tension between obedience and disobedience was present in Becon’s writings. At times, Becon and the evangelicals argued for both simultaneously. Becon’s rebel political language in Fortresse of the faythfull incorporates sharp language toward the rich gentry, and at one point, Edward himself. His use of common euphemisms associated with the 1549 rebels themselves identified him with the rebels. 37 Christine Peters, Patterns of piety: Women, gender and religion in late medieval and Reformation England (Cambridge, 2009), p. 197.

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However, he rebuked them for their physical violence and aggression against the civil authorities. Becon’s back-and-forth rebuke and defense of both the rebels and civil authorities is a peculiar feature in his rebel political rhetoric. In relation to the government of the commonwealth, the evangelicals viewed themselves as Old Testament court prophets, representatives of God, who were commissioned to prophesy to the subjects of the commonwealth. As the prophets, they believed that a national reformation included a purging of social injustice and moral corruption. They attempted to bring change by appealing to the king and his counselors and condemning those who were guilty of social injustice, particularly those who mistreated the poor. If the king himself needed rebuke, they did not hesitate to confront their king as Becon did in print in 1550. They also engaged in a ‘prophetic war’ of print against ‘false prophets’, those who would oppose the king’s reformation. Finally, true to the model of the biblical prophets, they issued calls for national repentance through tracts and sermons, often threatening the commonwealth with plagues if its subjects did not conform to Edward’s reforms. True and lasting reformation was impossible, they argued, if their message of repentance was rejected. While most scholarship on the Marian period regards the evangelicals as firmly established in their doctrinal positions entering exile, Chapter 6 brings to light some new evidence that counters traditional views. This chapter argues that Becon’s tracts reveal substantial changes and ruptures in Becon’s theological understanding of some key doctrines, which in turn affect his view of the commonwealth. These shifts in his theology are instructive in dispelling the common characterisation of Becon as an inflexible radical evangelical. Becon’s theological views and doctrinal development hardly fit what some scholars describe as the stereotypical English reformer. His Marian writings expose this truth in important ways. This chapter, therefore, will aim to correct a common misinterpretation of Becon’s evangelicalism. It will further trace Becon’s changes in his doctrine over a span of twelve years and examine the complexity of those shifts while suggesting some potential causes of his theological evolution. Becon’s continental exile afforded him the opportunity to reflect upon the extent of the English Reformation. In so doing, it revealed his conflicted views of both the Henrician and Edwardian reformations. For instance, his Marian writings reveal a tense, conflicted relationship with the 1552 Prayer Book. Both his Edwardian and Marian writings clearly supported Edwardian evangelicalism, yet he still persisted in his differences with the Edwardian Church in matters of clerical vestments and other forms of ceremonialism. This tension will be explored in this chapter within the context of the evangelical divisions in Frankfurt, Becon’s residence in exile from 1555 to 1557. In the final chapter of this study, I analyse the language of rebellion in Becon’s writing. I place it within the context of other evangelical ‘sedicious’ print during

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the early years of Elizabeth I’s reign. While he insisted that the magistrates’ laws were tantamount to God’s voice and, therefore, must be obeyed, he allowed for disobedience in situations where one’s rights were infringed or conscience violated. He condemned Elizabethan magistrates for ‘dryving’ their subjects to poverty, supporting Catholic liturgy, and abandoning the interests of their subjects. With these criteria he urged all subjects to disobey the magistrates and to ‘rayle’ against them. But, in contrast, other evangelicals argued that the strict obedience of the subjects of a commonwealth was an absolute necessity, for that obedience would shield a society from ‘sedicion’. This division among the evangelicals regarding obedience and disobedience, the role of the magistrates, and the possibility of ‘sedicion’ is a topic that has not been addressed in recent scholarship on early Elizabethan England. This chapter also aims to fill the missing spaces in scholarship in relation to evangelical disagreement concerning the functions of commonwealth government and its relationship with its subjects. While most recent scholars have glossed over the evangelicals’ political views on obedience and disobedience to magistrates, it is crucial to dissect their views and to place Becon properly within this context. It is also critical to avoid the mistake, one that most scholars have committed, of lumping all evangelicals together. The evangelicals’ political views were simply not that cut-and-dry. Rather, the diversity of evangelicals in the sphere of politics is highly complex and fraught with conflicting views and arguments. This book demonstrates the significance of the early English evangelicals in their contribution to the shaping of the commonwealth. It looks at the evangelicals’ shifting political and religious views across the four Tudor reigns in relation to social relationships. The study of the intertwining of their political, religious, and social views provides clues to how the evangelicals arrived at their respective positions, envisioned their respective vision of a ‘godly’ commonwealth, and how they viewed themselves in relation to that commonwealth. As one of the leaders of the evangelicals and a popular bestseller, Thomas Becon must be considered in any scholarly discussion of the English commonwealth. Becon’s writings provide a necessary corrective to current early modern studies that consistently portrays him as a static, recalcitrant Protestant throughout his long career as a cleric. Rather, this book will argue that Becon’s views of the commonwealth evolved as a result of substantive political, social, and theological changes in English society. This study will weave together various interdisciplinary fields in order to track the beliefs of Becon and other evangelicals pertaining to a ‘godly’ commonwealth. Such a project will illuminate new areas of English commonwealth studies and will significantly contribute to aspects that have been unaddressed in recent scholarship. Further, it will challenge previous ideas in early modern studies, ideas which should be modified in light of such an analysis.

Chapter 1. Thomas Becon’s early theology: evangelical conversion and household piety in the ‘common weale’

England in the early 1540s was generally not an environment amenable to evangelicalism. The preaching of the Word, for instance, was greeted with apathy at the best, and antipathy in the worst cases. If any man understood this, it was the evangelical preacher and pamphleteer, Thomas Becon. Becon complained about the indifferent attitude of parishioners towards the Bible. They grumbled, ‘Speke unto us pleasaunt thinges, preach unto us tales of Robyn hood, take awaye from us the right way, go out of the pathe, and away with that holy one of Israel from our face’.1 This demand to be entertained at the sacred desk by the merry band of Sherwood Forest rather than to be illuminated by ‘the glorious light of his most holye worde’ aroused Becon to threaten these parishioners with divine wrath and justice: [God] is the lawer, which wyl expulse the darkenesses of mennes tradicions…To be shorte, he wyll detecte and overthrowe all the Idols, that obscure his glory, and set up his blyssed name to be praysed and magnyefyed for ever and ever.2

This example aptly illustrates Becon’s conviction that the Bible should dictate ecclesiastical and spiritual activities. This concept dominated Becon’s life and writings throughout his illustrious and multifaceted career. This chapter will investigate the formal education and early career of Becon and will contend that Becon, while thoroughly evangelical in his outlook, was unique in his own portrayal of his evangelical status as well as in the content of his writings on piety. While maintaining an evangelical concept of conversion, Becon’s treatment of his own spiritual experience was atypical of Henrician evangelicals. In addition, I will establish Becon as a commonwealth evangelical, 1 Thomas Becon, A pleasaunte newe nosegay (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1742, sig. A7v. Hugh Latimer, in a sermon of 1549 also complained of parishioners’ fascination with Robin Hood over sermons. Hugh Latimer, The seconde [seventh] sermon of Maister Hughe Latimer (London: John Day and William Seres, 1549) STC 15274.7, sigs. X5v–X6r. 2 Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sig. A8r. ‘Detecte’ was a technical legal term for the discovery of heretics.

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Thomas Becon’s early theology: evangelical conversion and household piety

tracking his early usage of ‘common weale’ rhetoric within his Henrician writings. His writings on evangelical themes were unusual given that evangelical print in the early 1540s was rare, and what little was being written by evangelicals was primarily doctrinal. Becon’s writings on lay piety were intended to be both instructive and polemical as they entered a market dominated by Catholic print on lay piety.

Becon’s early years Becon’s activities during the Henrician Reformation need to be set within the context of his early upbringing, education, and influences on his personal life and theology. Becon was born near the village of Thetford, Norfolk, either in 1512 or 1513. Becon admitted that there was nothing unique about his birth or status in life, having lacked ‘wyt, pollecy, valeaunce, strength, wysdome, rytches’.3 Little is known of his childhood, but he recalled in glowing terms how ‘fortunate’ he was that ‘I have bene from my yought studious of the holy Scripture, and very glad, wan I might eyther reade it my self, and common of it wyth my neyghbours, or els hear other[s] preache and talke of it’.4 This claim that his upbringing was ‘godly’ is striking, for it contrasts with the typical conversion account of a Henrician evangelical. In his claim from A newe yeares gyfte, Becon intriguingly connected his childhood biblical education with the same biblical studies he was engaged in at the time of his writing in 1542. Another pertinent point here is Becon’s implication that a godly community existed in his youth with whom he would discuss the Scriptures. In this account Becon seemed to be making a retrospective interpretation of his youth in evangelical terms. Yet another fascinating feature of his claim was his apparent access to the Scriptures in the 1510s when access to the Bible was extremely restricted. While he did not elaborate on this point, his statement seems to indicate that the Bible was personally accessible to him in his childhood. Whether this would have been the Vulgate or Wycliffe’s translation is unclear. Furthermore, what was even more significant and highly unusual for this period was a total absence of any conversion narrative in Becon’s writings. What was typically expected of Henrician evangelicals was a narrative delineating a radical ‘sinner to saint’ transformation. As Peter Marshall argues, conversion narratives were vehicles in which evangelicals demonstrated genuine repentance 3 Thomas Becon, The new pollecye of warre (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1735, Prologue, sigs. B2v–B3r. 4 Thomas Becon, A newe yeares gyfte (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1543) STC 1738, sigs. A5v– A6r.

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for their sins.5 While not all conversion accounts are to be taken at face value, the expressions of spiritual change in terms of darkness-to-light and wickedness-togodliness are nonetheless instructive. For instance, the evangelical John Old, a later friend of Becon’s, describing his own spiritual conversion, declared that ‘it hathe pleased thalmighty Lord, to open unto me (among many other[s] the most unworthy) the true christian faithe, and to cal me out of the damnable darkenesse of Antichristes iniquitie, in to the true light of Christes gospelles veritie’.6 Katherine Parr, the last wife of Henry VIII, lamented her ‘evill and wretched former life, myne obstynate, stony, and untractable herte’, yet rejoiced that ‘I feele my selfe…as it were in a newe garment, before god…to be taken iuste, and rightwise’.7 Even as early as 1532, Becon’s publisher, John Gough, recounting his life before conversion, gradually developed a ‘perfyte knowlege of my foule enormyte and shamefull lyvynges…and the more I loked in this moste pure glasse [the Scriptures], the more knowleg I had of my fowle spotted soule in the syght of god’.8 Rather than portraying a wretched ‘former’ life as his contemporaries did, Becon claimed that his life commenced in godliness. It seems that Becon deliberately portrayed himself as a natural heir of evangelicalism complete with an evangelical heritage and credentials. Why did Becon present himself in approbatory language that seems to contradict the whole point of being an evangelical? Though never explicitly stated in his writings, Becon assumed a prophetic role in the Old Testament sense, as did many of his fellow evangelicals, in declaring God’s truth to the people of God on a national level. Becon repeatedly addressed England as the people of God in language strikingly parallel to Old Testament covenantal language. With jeremiads, rebukes, and woes, Becon warned the people of God’s impending judgment. Because Old Testament prophets were divinely called and appointed by God from birth, a ‘conversion’ narrative was absent from the biography of the prophet. I would argue that Becon deliberately portrayed himself as a ‘prophet’ called by God in this sense. The ‘prophet’ status would distinguish him from the common people and entitle him to greater authority in that he was a spokesman for God. Despite the absence of a description of a formal call from God to the prophetic ministry, there are traces of Becon’s self-awareness of being a prophet throughout his career. Further, the declaration of his having been blessed with the presence of the Bible from 5 Peter Marshall, ‘Evangelical conversion’ in Peter Marshall and Alec Ryrie (eds), The Beginnings of English Protestantism (Cambridge, 2002), pp. 21–22. 6 John Old, A confession of the most auncient and true christe[n] catholike olde belefe (Southwark: Christophor Truthal, 1556) STC 18798, sig. A2v. 7 Katherine Parr, The lamentacion of a sinner (London: Edward Whitchurch, 1547) STC 4827, sigs. A1r, B4v. 8 J[ohn] G[ough], Here begynneth a lytell treatyse called the myrrour or lokynge glasse of lyfe (London: R. Wyer, 1532) STC 11499, sig. A2v.

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Thomas Becon’s early theology: evangelical conversion and household piety

childhood is significant. Becon’s self-awareness and role as a prophet of England will be explored in further detail in Chapter 4. His formal theological education began at St John’s College, Cambridge in 1527. Founded in 1516 for the purpose of training priests, St John’s College provided rigorous humanist instruction including Hebrew, Greek, logic, mathematics, and philosophy.9 The College received substantial endowments and the student membership burgeoned to 95 in 1522, about one-fifth of the University student body. By the late 1510s, the academic system of Cambridge gradually shifted to humanism away from scholasticism.10 The appointment of Richard Croke (1489–1558), an eminent humanist, in 1518 as professor of Greek at Cambridge was a pivotal move for the University as it began to embrace the ‘New Learning’.11 Croke, who studied in Paris under Erasmus for about one year and under Girolamo Aleandro from 1511 to around 1514, transformed the culture of Greek studies at Cambridge.12 Consequently, Greek scholarship flourished in Cambridge in the 1530s. The addition of a number of classical Greek manuscripts, given to the University by Bishop Cuthbert Tunstall in 1529, further solidified Cambridge as a centre of Greek studies in England.13 Becon’s Greek instructor in St John’s College would have been the humanist George Day (1502– 1556), later bishop of Chichester, who replaced Croke in 1526.14 Day, a staunch religious conservative, served as both professor of medicine and praelector of Greek. Within this academic context, future evangelical leaders including Becon were exposed to theological education grounded in humanism, a humanism that would fuel the evangelical cause.

9 Damian Riehl Leader, A History of the University of Cambridge, Vol. 1 (Cambridge, 1988), pp. 287–290. 10 Diarmaid MacCulloch avers that the momentum toward humanism at Cambridge was more gradual than has been previously thought. He suggests that the relationship between humanism and scholasticism at Cambridge was ‘complementary’. Diarmaid MacCulloch, Thomas Cranmer (New Haven, 1996), p. 23. 11 Leader, History of the University of Cambridge, pp. 298–299. Croke was a religious anomaly. He accused Bishop John Fisher, leading to the latter’s execution in 1535, and he was the first to testify against Thomas Cranmer at his heresy trial in 1555. Jonathan Woolfson, ‘Richard Croke’, ODNB (accessed 28 January 2014). 12 Woolfson, ‘Richard Croke’, ODNB (accessed 17 February 2014). Erasmus, in Paris in 1511 to personally oversee the printing of his Moriae encomium, was evidently so impressed with Croke’s abilities that he wrote to John Colet in 1511, requesting him to see if there were any available funds to support Croke’s further studies in Paris. Colet responded in the negative. James McConica, ‘Erasmus’, ODNB (accessed 17 February 2014). 13 Leader, History of the University of Cambridge, p. 300. 14 Leader, History of the University of Cambridge, p. 300. Day was appointed provost of King’s College, Cambridge in 1538 and played a role in the heresy trial of John Lambert in 1538 and those of several evangelicals during the reign of Queen Mary including John Hooper and John Philpot. Malcolm Kitch, ‘George Day’, ODNB (accessed 28 January 2014).

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Not only were substantial academic changes underway at Cambridge. Religious tensions were beginning to simmer around the mid-1520s. In 1521, Cambridge took a strong stance against the writings of Martin Luther. Cardinal Wolsey appointed four University representatives to examine Luther’s works who deemed them as ‘heretical’. Wolsey issued an official condemnation, climaxing in the burning of Luther’s writings at St Paul’s Cross on 12 May.15 In spite of the prohibition, Luther’s works continued to circulate at Cambridge and were privately read during the 1520s. The presence of George Stafford and Thomas Bilney at Cambridge, advocates of Luther’s writings, had a profound impact on the evangelical reformation gradually taking roots at Cambridge.16 Stafford started as a proctor and University preacher in 1523 before being appointed as professor of theology the following year in Pembroke College. Bilney began teaching theology in Trinity Hall in 1524, as he had been connected with Trinity Hall as a student since 1510.17 Through the direct influence of Stafford and Bilney, numerous conversions occurred from 1524 to 1528, among them the conversions of two men who would eventually be pivotal forces in the evangelical movement, Hugh Latimer and Robert Barnes.18 During the next three years this core group of Cambridge evangelicals expanded to include other distinguished professors and fellows from various colleges.19 In 1526 the evangelicals’ momentum was disrupted when 15 BL, Cotton Vitellius B/IV/115; Leader, History of the University of Cambridge, p. 320–321. 16 H. C. Porter, Reformation and Reaction in Tudor Cambridge (Cambridge, 1958), p. 44. Allan Chester argues that while there were other evangelicals present, Bilney and Stafford were the earliest and most influential of the evangelicals at Cambridge. Allan G. Chester, Hugh Latimer: Apostle to the English (New York, 1978), p. 13. 17 Chester, Latimer, p. 12; P. R. N. Carter, ‘Thomas Bilney’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014). 18 Latimer was a member of Clare College and began teaching in 1510. Chester, Latimer, p. 5; Susan Wabuda, ‘Hugh Latimer’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014). At his conversion, Barnes, a brilliant humanist and possibly a student of Erasmus in Louvain around 1514, was prior of the Augustinian friary at Cambridge. Korey D. Maas, The Reformation and Robert Barnes (Rochester, 2010), p. 12; Carl R. Trueman, ‘Robert Barnes’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014). Other conversions occurring in the mid-1520s attributed to Stafford and Bilney were those of Matthew Parker of Corpus Christi College, Nicholas Shaxton of Gonville Hall, Thomas Arthur of St John’s College, Richard Smith of Trinity Hall, George Joye of Peterhouse, and John Lambert of Queens’ College. Chester, Hugh Latimer, pp. 10, 13; David J. Crankshaw and Alexandra Gillespie, ‘Matthew Parker’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014); Susan Wabuda, ‘Nicholas Shaxton’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014); Andrew Hope, ‘Thomas Arthur’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014); H. L. Parish, ‘George Joye’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014); Tom Betteridge, ‘John Lambert’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014); Chester, Latimer, p. 13, 37. Becon may have had the acquaintance of Thomas Arthur since both were enrolled in St John’s College, the latter being a fellow from 1518 to 1527. It is unclear whether he was still at Cambridge after 1527 until his martyrdom in 1532. 19 The Cambridge evangelical network included Edward Crome, John Skip, and Sygar Nicholson of Gonville Hall, Simon Heynes of Queens’ College, Nicholas Heath of Clare College, Thomas Goodrich of Jesus College, Rodolph Bradford of King’s College, and Simon Smith of Caius.

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Thomas Becon’s early theology: evangelical conversion and household piety

they were discovered and arrested one by one. Barnes was accused of embracing heretical theology after preaching a Christmas sermon at St Edward’s Church, Cambridge and was subsequently arrested and imprisoned in the Fleet Prison in London.20 George Joye was arrested in 1527 and Latimer one year later.21 The Cambridge evangelicals were then dealt substantial losses with the untimely death of Stafford in 1529 and the martyrdom of Bilney on 19 August 1531. In addition, in 1531 vice–chancellor John Watson implemented a new policy requiring all theology students to take an oath rejecting Hus, Wycliffe, and Luther as ‘heretics’ before receiving their degrees.22 Intriguingly, if this was the very year Becon graduated with his BA in divinity, then he indeed took the oath.23 Becon’s term as a student from 1527 to around 1531 encompassed these turbulent, perilous times for evangelicals. During the second year of his studies in 1528 Becon became enamoured with two of the evangelical Cambridge scholars, Latimer and Stafford. Becon quoted a popular saying among the student body at Cambridge that expressed the general esteem that was held for both Latimer and Stafford: ‘When Maister Staforde read, and Mayster Latimer preached, than was Cambridge blessed’.24 Becon admired ‘the puernes of his [Latimer’s] lyfe’ and his generosity to ‘pore scholars and other nedye people’.25 The young student of only sixteen years old attributed his ‘knoweledge’ of the Bible to Latimer.26 Because he was so intent on ‘reposynge it [Latimer’s instruction] in my memorye’, he attended as many of Latimer’s sermons as he could.27

20 21 22 23

24 25 26 27

Susan Wabuda, ‘Edward Crome’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014); D. G. Newcombe, ‘John Skip’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014); Porter, Reformation and Reaction, p. 45; C. S. Knighton, ‘Simon Heynes’ ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014); David Loades, ‘Nicholas Heath’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014); Felicity Heal, ‘Thomas Goodrich’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014). In addition, Miles Coverdale, the prominent Bible translator, was converted in 1526 while an Augustinian friar at Cambridge. He attributed his prior, Robert Barnes, for his conversion. David Daniell, ‘Miles Coverdale’, ODNB (accessed 31 January 2014). Also see Maas, Reformation and Robert Barnes, pp. 12–13; Trueman, ‘Robert Barnes’, ODNB. Maas, Reformation and Robert Barnes, pp. 14, 19; Leader, History of the University of Cambridge, p. 323. Chester, Latimer, p. 36; Leader, History of the University of Cambridge, p. 323. Porter, Reformation and Reaction, p. 61; Leader, History of the University of Cambridge, p. 323. According to Cambridge Alumni Database, Becon graduated either in 1530 or 1531. Cambridge Alumni Database, http://venn.lib.cam.ac.uk/acad/search-130418.html (accessed 31 January 2014) House mentions a 1531 graduation. Seymour Baker House, ‘Thomas Becon’, ODNB (accessed 10 October 2013). Watson’s policy only lasted for a year, when in 1532 Simon Heynes, a Queens’ College evangelical, replaced him as vice–chancellor. Porter, Reformation and Reaction, p. 61. Thomas Becon, The iewel of ioye (London: J. Daye and W. Seres, 1550) STC 1733, sig. D7r. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sigs. D2v, D6v. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sigs. D3v, D4r. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. D4r.

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Given the fact that Latimer had only been an evangelical convert for four years, Becon’s account is intriguing. Latimer began his tenure in Clare College in 1510 as a staunch conservative and was particularly hostile toward his evangelical colleague, George Stafford.28 But something changed in 1524 when Latimer began repudiating the practices of the Church. Thomas Bilney had taken an interest in Latimer and through Bilney’s persuasion and patient instruction, Latimer converted to the evangelical faith.29 Latimer’s theology was still gradually developing in 1528, it is difficult to fully assess his doctrinal beliefs while at Cambridge.30 Since he was not arrested until 1528, his preaching could not have been radical enough to warrant an examination. However, as will be seen, Becon claimed that Latimer in 1528 launched verbal attacks against the Catholic Church in his sermons. Latimer’s arrest that same year was probably due not to his preaching, but to his distribution of copies of Tyndale’s New Testament, which was forbidden at Cambridge. Circulation of New Testaments had probably been going on for a while, but it was eventually discovered in 1528 when a transaction failed when a monk was observed distributing them.31 While Becon was impressed with Latimer’s theological prowess, he was most influenced by Latimer’s teaching on godliness. His exhortations to virtue were ‘swete and pleasaunt’. Becon further noted how ‘vehemente was he in rebukynge all sinnes’ including idolatry, swearing, covetousness, and adultery.32 Latimer also repudiated the practices of the Catholic Church including the use of images and candles, going on pilgrimages, buying and selling of benefices, and the offering of pardons. These condemnations of Catholic piety adumbrate similar denunciations in Becon’s Henrician writings.33 Latimer also publicly reprimanded ministers for failing to shepherd their parishioners by instructing them from the Scriptures, another recurring theme in Becon’s writings.34 It is possible that Becon’s concept of piety began to take shape through Latimer’s teaching. George Stafford was a professor of divinity at Pembroke College and Becon regarded him as another spiritual mentor. Stafford was ‘a man of a verye perfecte lyfe’ and ‘of an Angellike conversacion’ and was apparently known by all for his 28 Chester, Latimer, p. 17. The relationship between Latimer and Stafford apparently remained fractious even after Latimer’s conversion. They were not reconciled until just prior to Stafford’s sudden death. 29 Chester, Latimer, pp. 17–19. 30 Chester, Latimer, pp. 21, 34. 31 Chester, Latimer, pp. 36–37. 32 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. D5v. 33 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sigs. D4v–D6v. For examples, see Thomas Becon, A Christmas bankette (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1713, sig. G1r; Becon, New pollecye of warre, sigs. H5v–H6r. 34 For examples of pastoral rebukes and exhortations, see Becon, New pollecye of warre, sigs. H6v–I1r and Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sigs. D3v, L7r.

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gentleness and generosity.35 Comingled with his deep piety was his mastery of Greek, Hebrew, and Latin, having possibly studied the humanities under Erasmus himself in the early 1510s at Cambridge during his BA studies.36 Becon testified that Stafford, through sheer discipline and labour, attained a level of biblical scholarship that was unprecedented even for his day.37 Becon was duly impressed that Stafford simultaneously possessed intellectual prowess and godliness. Becon graduated from Cambridge in either 1531 or 1532 with his BA in divinity and subsequently became a tutor at St John’s College.38 He was ordained as a priest in 1533, though he did not officially take his first position until 1538.39 Around 1534 he apparently began to tutor privately until 1538. Tutoring was a logical and attractive job to have in the event they were not able to secure a clerical position or their churches could not afford to pay them enough.40 Other than his occupation as a tutor, little is known of Becon’s activities from 1534 to 1538. Around 1537, Becon was introduced to Thomas first Baron Wentworth (1501– 1551) of Nettlestead in Suffolk, a pivotal political figure in Tudor England with familial relations such as Jane Seymour and Edward, duke of Somerset.41 Wentworth, an ardent evangelical himself, was the patron of other notworthy evangelicals during this period including John Bale, who was converted as a result of Wentworth’s influence, and Richard Argentine.42 Wentworth became Becon’s 35 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sigs. D7r, D8r–v. For more on George Stafford, see Leader, History of the University of Cambridge, pp. 322–323 and Chester, Hugh Latimer, pp. 12–13. Stafford died of an infection in 1529 when he came into contact with a man who practised witchcraft in an attempt to befriend and pray with him. Aubrey Attwater, Pembroke College Cambridge: A Short History (Cambridge, 2011), p. 31. 36 Chester, Hugh Latimer, p. 12. Chester suggests that Stafford was an ‘unnamed’ pupil of Erasmus. 37 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sigs. D7v–D8r. 38 House, ‘Thomas Becon’, ODNB. 39 House, ‘Thomas Becon’, ODNB. The date of Becon’s ordination is disputed. For those advocating a 1538 ordination, see John A. Wagner and Susan Walters Schmid (eds), Encyclopedia of Tudor England (Santa Barbara, 2011), 106. The dispute is between the date of Becon’s actual, formal ordination as priest and his installation as chantrist at St Lawrence in Ipswich. It appears that he was formally ordained in 1533, and began his formal preaching ministry in 1538. Becon himself identified 1538 as the year he commenced his preaching and writing, a sign perhaps that he viewed preaching as true ministry. See Thomas Becon, The worckes of Thomas Becon (London: John Day, 1560–1564) STC 1710, Preface, sig. C4v. 40 Ian Green, Humanism and Protestantism in Early Modern English Education (Aldershot, 2009), pp. 88–89. 41 P. R. N. Carter, ‘Thomas Wentworth’, ODNB (accessed 10 October 2013); Diarmaid MacCulloch, Suffolk and the Tudors: Politics and Religion in an English County, 1500–1600 (Oxford, 1986), p. 160. 42 Carter, ‘Thomas Wentworth’, ODNB; J. M. Blatchly, ‘Richard Argentine’, ODNB (accessed 10 October 2013); John Foxe, Actes and monuments (London: John Day, 1583) STC 11225, pp. 1964–1965.

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patron and in 1538 recommended him for the post of chantrist at St Lawrence in Ipswich, Suffolk, a parish that had previous associations with Cardinal Thomas Wolsey’s family.43 It is likely that Argentine, who arrived in Ipswich in 1537 to take up the post of ‘Usher of the Free Grammer schoole’, and Becon interacted with each other.44 Ironically, John Bale also had Ipswich ties, having been prior of the Carmelite friars in 1533 before his conversion.45 It appears that Wentworth selected Becon specifically for assisting him in the purging of the town’s Catholic idolatry. Wentworth had some familial ties in Ipswich, therefore, he was interested in the welfare of the town. His father, Sir Richard Wentworth (d. 1528) was buried in Ipswich Greyfriars, the patronage of which he obtained by inheritance in 1538.46 In April of the same year Thomas Cromwell commissioned Wentworth with the task of removing the image of Our Lady of Grace, housed in the parish of St Matthew’s, and demolishing it in London, where a large-scale purge of idolatry led by Cromwell was also underway.47 This was not the first time that evangelicals had attempted to eradicate idolatry in Ipswich. Only eleven years earlier in 1527, Cambridge professors, Thomas Bilney and Thomas Arthur, visited Ipswich during their preaching tour of Suffolk and specifically condemned the worship of images.48 Near the end of his life, Becon condemned ‘our Lady of Ipswiche’ in the context of miraculous healings attributed to saints and relics.49 Furthermore, Ipswich was the residence of one of Wentworth’s Gosfield relatives, Jane Wentworth (d. 1572?), otherwise known as the ‘Maid of Ipswich’, who claimed to possess supernatural gifts as a result of a vision she received at the age of thirteen.50 It is likely that she was in Ipswich when Becon arrived to assume his new role at St Lawrence. It was within this superstitious context that Becon arrived in Ipswich to commence his first post as a cleric. 43 44 45 46 47

MacCulloch, Suffolk and the Tudors, p. 227. Foxe, Actes, p. 1965. John N. King, ‘John Bale’, ODNB (accessed 28 February 2014). TNA, SP 1/130/239. Wentworth charged the clergy there of being ‘an idell neste of dranes’. Carter, ‘Thomas Wentworth’, ODNB; MacCulloch, Suffolk and the Tudors, pp. 131, 160; Susan Brigden, London and the Reformation (Oxford, 1989), pp. 289–293. 48 Hope, ‘Thomas Arthur’, ODNB; Carter, ‘Thomas Bilney’, ODNB. 49 Thomas Becon, A new postil conteinyng most godly and learned sermons upon all the Sonday Gospelles (London: Thomas Marshe, 1566) STC 1736, sig. Z1v. 50 Richard Rex, ‘Jane Wentworth’, ODNB (accessed 28 February 2014). Jane Wentworth was endorsed by John Bailey, parish priest of St Matthew’s, and by Thomas More and Cardinal Wolsey. On the other hand, she was denounced by some evangelicals. See Heinrich Bullinger, A commentary upon the seconde epistle of S Paul to the Thessalonia[n]s (Southwarke: Iames Nicolson, 1538) STC 4054, fo. 49v and George Joye, The subversio[n] of Moris false foundacion ([Antwerp]: Jacob Aurick, 1534) STC 14829, sig. A7v, fos. 48r–v, and William Tyndale, The obedie[n]ce of a Christen man (Antwerp: J. Hoochstraten, 1528) STC 24446, fo. 147. For instance, Joye hinted at demon possesion: ‘yn the maid of ypswiche the Devel played’.

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How long Becon remained at St Lawrence remains a mystery, but around 1539 he was installed as vicar of St Eanswythe parish in the small southeastern Kent village of Brenzett, where he probably ministered less than one year.51 How Becon came to Brenzett is uncertain, but Wentworth did inherit some manors in Kent from his father, one of which was located fifteen miles north of Brenzett, so it is possible that his Kent appointment was again arranged through Wentworth.52 Brenzett, like Ipswich, was in a staunchly conservative region. The ‘Nun of Kent’, Elizabeth Barton (1506–1534), was from Aldington, just five miles north of Brenzett, and as a religious conservative she was burned at the stake for prophesying Henry VIII’s imminent death for his divorce from Catherine of Aragon.53 The impression she made upon the clergy was significant enough to cause some to declare that a new age of the ‘primitive church’ had dawned.54 After his vicarship in Brenzett terminated in 1540, Becon apparently continued his itinerant preaching ministry in Norfolk and Suffolk, most likely under the sponsorship of Wentworth.55 The ratification of the Six Articles on 28 June 1539 was an unmitigated disaster for evangelicals and within several months several notable preachers including Robert Barnes, Thomas Garrett, and William Jerome were arrested and executed at the stake, presumably for objecting to the Articles.56 Other evangelicals also did not escape the watchful eye of Bishop Edmund Bonner, Thomas Becon being among them. Becon was arrested and examined in February 1541. He was indicted for teaching ‘evil and false doctrine’ and forced to recant.57

51 ‘Henricus Becher’, CCED. Henricus Becher was installed as vicar of St Eanswythe on 22 September 1540, therefore precluding Becon from being at the parish after 1540. There are no extant parish records prior to 1540. I am grateful to John Hendy for confirming Becon’s tenure at St Eanswythe as recorded on a brass located by the chancel arch of the church briefly listing Becon’s achievements, including being the first Englishman to write against genuflection at the name of Jesus. 52 TNA, PROB 11/22/654. The Manor of Sibton was located in Lyminge, Kent. Wentworth also possessed a manor in Kingston, Kent. 53 TNA, SP 1/80f.118; Diane Watt, ‘Elizabeth Barton’, ODNB (accessed 28 February 2014). 54 TNA, SP 1/77f.209. 55 LP XVIII pt. I, no. 538, p. 313 ([14 May] 1543). 56 Brigden, London and the Reformation, pp. 312, 319. Brigden suggests that the true motivation of their arrest may have been retaliation for these evangelicals’ scathing verbal attacks on the wealthy for taking advantage of the poor. 57 LP XVIII pt. I, no. 538, p. 313 ([14 May] 1543). Becon’s second recantation statement contained a brief retrospective account of his early career and first recantation.

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Becon’s years in hiding in Kent Upon his recantation, Becon retired from clerical life and lived clandestinely in Kent where he ‘lurked…like a layman’ and began his prolific writing career as a pamphleteer under the pseudonym of ‘Theodore Basil’ in order to avoid any suspicion.58 Instead of returning to southeastern Kent where he would have been in imminent danger, he resided in some villages along the River Medway where a network of highly influential evangelical gentry harboured him until 1543. The Weald of Kent had historically been a hotbed of Lollard heresy.59 Lollard traditions, including sacramentarianism, anticlericalism, and anti-sacerdotalism became deep-seated in the thinking of the residents of Kentish communities, particularly among the villages along the Medway.60 Becon, hence, selected perhaps the safest location where he could continue living out his evangelical convictions without fear of arrest. At the time of Becon’s arrival in the Rochester diocese in Kent, the evangelical John Hilsey (d. 1539) was Bishop of Rochester, a post he held since 1535, when Thomas Cranmer appointed him to replace the conservative Bishop John Fisher, who was executed for his endorsement of the Nun of Kent’s prophecies.61 Abandoning his recantation statement, Becon began writing unapologetically against prayer for the saints, iconoclasm, and justification by works. Under the protection of his new Kentish patrons, Becon later wrote of the serendipity and ‘gentilnes I found for my Godly travailes at the hands of some menne in these parties [Kent]’.62 He was dependent upon their altruism, because his meager ‘riches are not worth a Gally halfe peny besides a few bokes and a lytle slender apparel’, though it appears that he did tutor some of their children in exchange for lodging and food.63 Becon stayed in Mereworth with Sir Thomas Neville (1484–1542), speaker of the House of Commons and legal advisor to Henry VIII, for at least his first year in hiding. Neville was an outspoken evangelical and was instrumental in the 58 LP XVIII pt. I, no. 538, p. 313 ([14 May] 1543). The pseudonym, ‘Theodore Basile’, was deliberately selected not only for its matching first initials with Becon’s own name, but also for the meaning of it in Greek. At his second recantation in 1543, he confessed that it was arrogant of him to impose on himself such a noble name. 59 John F. Davis, Heresy and Reformation in the South-east of England, 1520–1559 (London, 1983), pp. 1–3. A Lollard conventicle existed along the Medway valley as late as 1496. 60 Peter Clark, English Provincial Society from the Reformation to the Revolution (Sussex, 1977), p. 34. Clark suggests that the spirit of anticlericalism had flourished in the region. Davis, Heresy and Reformation, p. 3–4. One of those Medway villages was West Malling, where one of Becon’s friends, Thomas Wyatt, resided. Davis proves that numerous residents in the Rochester diocese, which the Medway villages were in, were tried and executed for embracing some view of Lollardy between 1450 and 1511. 61 Clark, English Provincial Society, pp. 35–36. 62 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B4v. 63 Becon, New pollecye of warre, Prologue, sig. B3r; Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sig. B4r.

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desecration of several monasteries in Kent, including the abbey of Malling.64 In A Christmas bankette, composed during the Christmas season of 1541 and dedicated to Neville, Becon expressed to him his gratitude for the privilege of ‘syttynge at your table before syx monethes past’.65 Neville’s hospitality was apparently lavish and well known in that region for it was ‘so great [in] humanite, comite, gentlenes and affabilite towarde al men’ and, consequently, a ‘mutual love’ developed between the two men.66 Neville must have shared Becon’s evangelical convictions since, according to Becon, he was elated with Becon’s Christmas bankette. Modesty not being one of his strengths, Becon claimed that Neville ‘diligently compared it with the moost holye worde of God’ and esteemed it at the same level as ‘the teachynge of the auncient Doctors of the holy churche’.67 Becon was so pleased with Neville’s assessment of the tract that he dedicated his next dialogue, A potacio[n], to him the following April. In addition to Neville, Becon became acquainted with George Brooke, Baron Cobham (1497–1558), who Peter Clark suggests may have possessed the most property in northern Kent at the time.68 Cobham would eventually serve on the King’s sewage commission for the county of Kent in 1544.69 Having converted to evangelicalism by 1540, Cobham hired evangelicals to tutor his sons.70 It is very likely that Becon tutored his sons in Cobham, about ten miles north of Mereworth, in 1542.71 In gratitude for Cobham’s hospitality, Becon dedicated to him Davids harpe, likely published in the summer of 1542.72 Becon was also close to Sir Thomas Wyatt (1503–1542), the illustrious court poet, and Thomas Roydon (1482–1557), both of whom were intimately connected with Thomas Cromwell’s tight-knit circle of Kentish evangelicals and received dedicatory treatises from Becon.73 The evangelical community claimed Wyatt as one of its own, but Susan 64 Catharine Davies, ‘Thomas Neville’, ODNB (accessed 28 February 2014); Helen Miller, ‘Thomas Neville’ in S.T. Bindoff (ed), The History of Parliament: the House of Commons 1509–1558 (Woodbridge, 2006). 65 Becon, Christmas bankette, Prologue, sig. A2r. 66 Becon, Christmas bankette, Prologue, sig. A2v. 67 Thomas Becon, A potacio[n] or dri[n]kynge for this holi time of le[n]t (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1749, sigs. A2r–v. 68 Clark, English Provincial Society, p. 52. For more on Brooke, see C. S. Knighton, ‘George Brooke’, ODNB (accessed 28 February 2014) who argues that Brooke was among the most distinguished in Kent society. 69 LP XX pt. I, no. 623, p. 319 (1544–1545). 70 Clark, English Provincial Society, p. 421, n. 85. 71 Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sig. B4r. 72 Thomas Becon, Davids harpe ful of moost delectable armony (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1717. 73 Clark, English Provincial Society, pp. 52, 68; Colin Burrow, ‘Thomas Wyatt’, ODNB (accessed 28 February 2014); William Page (ed), A History of the County of Kent, Vol. 2 (London, 1926), pp. 153–155; Edward Hasted, The History and Topographical Survey of the County of Kent, Vol. 5 (Canterbury, 1798), pp. 118–126. Wyatt, also the sheriff of Kent, was related to George

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Brigden contends that his religious affiliation was ambivalent at best as he chose to keep his religious sentiments a private matter.74 Becon also interacted with George Whetenhall (d. 1573) of East Peckham, Richard Scott, and Anthony Gryse, but little is known of them. Whetenhall’s wife, Alice Berkley, was related to the Neville family. Whetenhall was the recipient of A pleasaunte newe nosegay, composed in May 1542.75 Becon was grateful for Richard Scott’s ‘moost kynd and free gentylnes’. Scott was apparently a pious man who possessed ‘fervent and godlye affeccion…towarde the holy scripture’.76 Becon continued his frantic schedule of tutoring and writing until the summer of 1542 when ‘cares and troubles of this worlde’ assailed him for about seven months.77 What was the nature of these ‘cares and troubles’? One plausible speculation is the death of two of his staunchest Kentish advocates and patrons who were probably the dearest to him and perhaps the most influential among the Kentish evangelicals. These deaths occurred in fairly close succession, Neville passing away on 29 May and Wyatt dying on 6 October. Wyatt’s death was sudden as he became ill with the fever only three days prior to his death. It was not until December that Becon regained some composure from his grief. Whatever the specific nature of his trials, it is clear that they were overwhelmingly emotional for him. So bitter was his grief that he avoided biblical meditation and became reclusive from company.78 When he finally did return to society and resume his writing around the Christmas of 1542, he admitted that he was in ‘the troublous waves of this occean’, but God had brought him ‘into an haven of some quietnes’.79 He resumed writing until May 1543 when he was traced and arrested by the authorities. He was then forced to read his second recantation statement at Paul’s Cross one month later.

74 75 76 77 78 79

Brooke, Lord Cobham, by marriage. His holdings along the River Medway were extensive and included lands in Allington, West Malling, Boxley (the abbey), Maidstone, and Aylesford, the latter two being acquired in March 1542 while Becon was in the area. Roydon was a justice of peace who resided in Roydon Hall in East Peckham. He acquired the Manor of Lomewood in Nettlestead, originally the property of Cardinal Wolsey, from Edward Neville, older brother of Thomas Neville, through the marriage of one of his daughters around 1536. Susan Brigden, Thomas Wyatt: The Heart’s Forest (London, 2012), pp. 489–490. Christina Garrett, The Marian Exiles (Cambridge, 1938), p. 324. Thomas Becon, An invectyve agenst the moost wicked detestable vyce of swearing (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1543) STC 1730.5, Preface, sigs. A6r–v. Becon, Newe yeares gyfte, sig. A6r. Becon, Newe yeares gyfte, sig. A6v. Becon, Newe yeares gyfte, sig. A6v.

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The Henrician Writings Evangelical print in England was not quite as powerful a force in the early 1540s as it would be later in the same decade due to its relatively small presence in the print market. As Andrew Pettegree notes, this dearth was attributed to the stringent regulations upon evangelical print, and it effectively curtailed production.80 For instance, in 1540 there were only two evangelical works printed, those of John Frith and Lancelot Ridley, both of a doctrinal nature.81 Five evangelical titles, including one of Becon’s, were printed in 1541, the others being two titles by Heinrich Bullinger, as translated by Miles Coverdale, and two titles of George Joye. The following year, Becon’s eleven titles flooded the evangelical print market while just five other evangelical titles appeared.82 Becon’s output was, hence, unique in how it dominated the market during the early 1540s in spite of royal regulations governing evangelical printing. Rather than using his own name to promote and identify it with his writings, he was forced to use the pseudonym of ‘Theodore Basil’ to protect his identity, given his recantation. Writing in exile, his twelve works were published in a twoyear span. These works were sizeable pamphlets displaying impressive knowledge from a writer still relatively young. The rapid succession of subsequent editions of his writings points to an apparent demand for these types of works.83 This is striking given the tenuous nature of evangelicalism due to the ambivalent political climate of Henry VIII’s rule. These distinctive features of Becon’s Henrician writings add to the mystery of their composition. The primary purpose of Becon’s Henrician writings was to give practical instruction on virtue and godliness. Written with a decidedly evangelical flavour, Becon’s works deliberately avoided abstruse theological concepts and favored a plain, even blunt style of communication in order to capture a wider popular audience.84 While treatises on spirituality were essentially nonexistent in evangelical print at this time, works on Catholic piety were abundant during the 1530s to the early 1540s. The medieval classic, The folowyng of Chryste by Thomas à Kempis, was translated and went through at least five editions between 1531 to 1535. Simon Appulby’s The fruyte of redemcyon, originally printed in 1514, had 80 Andrew Pettegree, ‘Printing and the Reformation’ in Peter Marshall and Alec Ryie (eds), The Beginnings of English Protestantism, p. 172. 81 John Frith, Of the preparation to the crosse (London: Thomas Berthelet, 1540) STC 11393 and Lancelot Ridley, A commentary in Englyshe upon Sayncte Paules epystle to the Ephesyans (London: Robert Redman, 1540) STC 21038.5. 82 Two of those titles were translations of John Chrysostom’s works, two were by Richard Taverner, and one was by Henry Brinklow. 83 For instance, three separate of editions of A Christmas bankette were printed in 1542 alone. 84 Becon, Worckes of Thomas Becon, sigs. C4v, C5r; Becon, New pollecye of warre, Prologue, sig. B3r.

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three editions in the early 1530s. Richard Whitford, a monk of Syon Abbey and early contemporary of Becon, was a prolific author in the 1530s, and his devotional works, particularly The werke for housholders, became popular bestsellers. His last devotional treatise, Holy instrucyons and teachynges, was printed shortly before his death in 1541, the year of Becon’s first printed devotional work, Newes out of heaven.85 Of the twelve titles Becon produced between 1541 and 1543, none were overtly polemical in nature, though Becon did direct some criticism at the Catholic Church. Eight of them were didactic treatises focused primarily on piety and were intended to be both devotional and inspirational.86 Becon addressed topics as diverse as praying before dinner, fasting, and promoting justice for the poor. One of his works during this period, Davids harpe, was clearly sermonic, an exposition of Psalm 116:10–17. Becon experimented with the popular Tudor genre of dialogue in the remaining four titles, which more than his other works serve as a good case study in obtaining a sense of the reception and biblical treatment of his topics.87 All four dialogues, intended as a collection, were composed within a period of only twelve months. A Christmas bankette was written in December 1541, A Potacio[n] in March or April 1542, A pleasaunte newe nosegay in May 1542, and A newe yeares gyfte in December 1542.88 These dialogues, with the exception of Pleasaunte newe nosegay, were liturgical in nature, composed for specific sacred events. However, Becon did not intend the reading of his dialogues to be limited to liturgical days. For instance, Christmas bankette underwent two subsequent editions during the course of 1542. In addition, Becon stated his main themes in these dialogues without any reference to the calendar so that his readers could make universal application regardless of when they were actually read. In Christmas bankette Becon introduced the four main characters who would become his permanent cast throughout his dialogues, even those composed in the Elizabethan period: Philemon, Eusebius, Theophile, and Christopher. Becon 85 J. T. Rhodes compares Whitford’s focus on lay piety to Becon’s similar emphasis. Their themes are strikingly similar and both composed ars moriendi pieces. J. T. Rhodes, ‘Richard Whitford’, ODNB (accessed 3 February 2014). 86 Ian Green, Print and Protestantism in Early Modern England (Oxford, 2000), p. 2. My definition of ‘didactic treatise’ is akin to Green’s of instructional works on piety. I also see a distinction between instructive and polemical literature, but admittedly the line is blurred at times. I am restricting my definition of ‘polemical’ to those works that are intended to be such and express it overtly. 87 Antoinina Bevan Zlatar, Reformation Fictions: Polemical Protestant Dialogues in Elizabethan England (Oxford, 2011), p. 6. The dialogue served ‘the aim of educating the ‘unlearned’ in the state of the English Church’. It further had the ‘rich potential to teach, delight, and move’. 88 Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sig. B4r. Becon claimed to have composed Pleasaunte newe nosegay in only three days, in spite of keeping his regular tutoring schedule.

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assumed the character of Philemon, who was named for the New Testament friend of the Apostle Paul and known for his Christian hospitality to the saints. Becon aspired to be a Philemon of the pen whose ‘harte [is] stuffed with true and Christen charyte’.89 Though the biblical Philemon was not a minister, Philemon assumed both the roles of pastor and host to three of his neighbors who frequented his home. Philemon’s neighbors, unlike Philemon, had no apparent, specific representations in Becon’s mind.90 Neither did the three possess any distinct individuality as they all responded similarly in content and equally in quantity to one another. The content of the dialogue essentially consisted of Philemon’s sermon to his neighbours. Peppering the sermon were sporadic, yet laconic interjections from his guests. When Philemon’s neighbors did utter a response, it was always in one of two ways: either an assent of jovial approval or a further enquiry expressing interest. Their interactions were concise and complimentary, never argumentative. Philemon, as ‘minister’ and host, set the tone for the evening and exercised authority in the ‘discussions’. These literary characteristics of Becon’s dialogues demonstrate much about Becon as a communicator. The three guests modeled for his readers how they were to respond to his writings: with approval and enthusiasm. The absence of debates with Philemon gave the impression that these lectures were not open for discussion, but were to be assimilated. For instance, Christopher’s response to Philemon at one point was replete with unrestrained emotion and exemplified exactly what Becon was aiming at: ‘I have felte in my herte such an earnest fayth and burnynge love towarde God and his worde, that me thynke a thousande fyres coulde not plucke me away from the love of hym’.91 Eusebius, likewise, expressed ‘Ther is nothing that I wysshe more than continually to be fedde with the meate of such an heavenly bancket’.92 Perhaps it was Becon’s deliberate modeling of his readers’ reception that led to the success of his Philemon dialogues. Becon demonstrated his skill as a marketer of his own writings in many ways, some of which will be explored later in this study. The impact of Becon’s first dialogue from Becon’s perspective seems to have been radical, a perspective which will be explored later in this chapter. But which groups within English society were converting? Was this impact restricted just to Kent or were the effects taking place in other counties as well? If the latter, then from whom and how did he receive his information? His evangelical friends were sympathetic toward his views, but did others experience conversions? But beyond 89 Becon, Potacio[n], sig. B5v. This was a statement from Christopher to Philemon, complimenting him on his hospitality. Also see Philemon 1:5–7. 90 If they represented anyone, it would have been the common populace of England. 91 Becon, Christmas bankette, sigs. F4v–F5r. 92 Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. F5v.

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this, Becon does not provide any hints as to geographical impact or credible sources and witnesses confirming conversion. One thing is certain, however: the dialogues were popular enough for Becon and his publisher to continue investing time and money in the Philemon dialogue genre. As already noted, Christmas bankette went through three editions within the course of one year, while his next two dialogues had two editions each. His Newe yeares gyfte had only a single edition printed and that was most likely because Becon’s books were burned and banned from the printing market in May 1543 upon his second recantation.93

Household piety and the Word of God Household governance manuals in sixteenth-century England reflected the religious and social transformations transpiring within the context of evangelical reformation. Unlike Richard Whitford and other Tudor household authors, Becon never composed in the genre of manuals for household governance, but creatively used the genres of dialogues, catechisms, and prayerbooks to express his views of evangelical household piety. Becon’s views of household piety were deeply rooted in his vision of a ‘godly common weale’, one intricately linked to the written Word of God, primarily Old Testament teachings. For Becon, household piety had its moorings in the second greatest command of the New Testament, ‘you shall love your neighbor as you love yourself ’.94 A ‘godly common weale’ was a society governed by moral order, virtue, and poor relief. God entrusted subjects of the commonwealth with duties, namely vocations, and those vocations were to be performed for the good and prosperity of the ‘common weale’. Becon’s humanist message, mixed with his emphasis of the Bible, was all part of his vision of a godly ‘common weale’ based upon Old Testament themes. Children of the household were to be raised to be ‘profitable to the common weale, through vertue, learning, wisdome and councel’.95 Indeed, for Becon the household was a stage for practicing virtue and projecting ‘common weale’ ideals 93 LP XVIII pt. I, no. 538, p. 313 ([14 May] 1543). Ten of Becon’s books were burned, four of them being the Philemon dialogues. See also Alec Ryrie, ‘John Gough’, ODNB (accessed 28 February 2014) and E. Gordon Duff, A Century of the English Book Trade (London, 1948), p. 102. Another explanation for A newe yeares gyfte having a single edition was that his printer, John Mayler, and his financier, John Gough, were imprisoned in April 1543 for printing and selling heretical books. Gough eventually died in September or October, while Mayler ceased printing evangelical books. However, all four Philemon dialogues reappeared in the mammoth 1564 compendium, The Worckes of Thomas Becon, printed by John Gough. 94 Matthew 22:37. 95 Thomas Becon, The principles of Christian Religion (London: John Day, 1569) STC 1753, Preface, sigs. A4r–v.

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on English society. The godly household was to be a microcosm of the English ‘common weale’. Becon’s choice of genres to model godliness in the household is striking in that it reveal inventiveness in communicating his vision more effectively than mere sermonic material. His first dialogue, A Christmas bankette, was not only composed as a seasonal devotional piece, but it was also specifically intended to be a guide and model for godly household behavior. Becon’s work creatively used material culture such as tables, chairs, and dishes as biblical metaphors for guiding and stimulating his readers to practice household piety, including obedience to God and love for one’s neighbor. Becon’s list of material household items and their associations with biblical household piety recalls God’s instructions to the people of Israel in Deuteronomy 6:6–9, where God specifically directed parents to teach His laws to their children within their households. In verse 9 God commanded, ‘You shall write them [God’s laws] on the doorposts of your house and on your gates’. Throughout the dialogue, Becon incorporated a catenae of Scripture passages accompanied by biblical references listed in the margins. There are at least two possible motivations Becon had in incorporating such extensive use of the Bible. The first, a theological one, may simply be that Becon wanted to express the significance of the Bible for living. He regularly stressed the relationship between the Bible and godliness and so encouraged his readers to ‘reverentlye read’ the Bible, resulting in a life ‘being enflamed with the love’ of God.96 Second, it seemed that because the Bible was not readily accessible to parishioners Becon assumed responsibility for injecting biblical literacy in his readership. Providing the biblical references in the margin would have been an added benefit that parishioners would not normally encounter in attending worship. Becon argued that the Bible was crucial to building a godly ‘publique weale’, for ‘if people maye learn even from theyr cradles…to knowe God, to understand his worde, to honour hym aryght, and to walke in his holy pathwayes’, God would bless the ‘publique weale’.97 In Christmas bankette, Philemon as the host entertains a Christmas banquet in his house and explains how he governs his own household. Throughout this banquet-dialogue, Becon metaphorically described the material space of Philemon’s home in order to focus on the presence of household piety. The didactic representation of the material household coupled with visual stimulation throughout communicated the greater importance of household piety in the lives of household members. The striking feature of Philemon’s home is the written Word of God, inscriptions of Bible verses ubiquitous throughout the house. The visual stimulation of gazing upon specific household items was to draw the 96 Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. B8v. 97 Becon, New pollecye of warre, sig. K6r.

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readers’ minds to the Bible and ultimately to God. In addition, the relationship between household furnishings and the Bible was intended to reinforce the concept that every member of the household was to adhere to the written Word, the Bible. For instance, the very first object that Philemon draws his guests’ attention to is his parclose door, which is inscribed with John 10:9, Christ’s words stating, ‘I am the door’. Philemon declares that this inscription on his door is ‘to put me and my houshold in remembrance, that Christ is the dore, by whome we must enter in the favoure of God’.98 Next, Philemon’s guests notice that his chimney displays the words of Isaiah 66:24, ‘the fire of them shall not be quenched’, a sober warning intended to ‘bete into our hertes the fear of God, which expelleth synne’.99 An inscription of John 8:12, ‘I am the light of the world’, is on the window, representing the enlightenment of the souls of the household members as they receive ‘godly understandyng of his blessed worde’.100 Curiously, Philemon’s dining table has three inscribed verses on it that stress three different aspects of food consumption: spiritual nourishment, poor relief, and gratitude. The one that Philemon elaborates on, a subject that was paramount to Becon’s vision of a ‘godly common weale’, is Isaiah 58:7, ‘Break thy bread to the hungry’. When inquired about this by his guests, Philemon affirms that he practices that biblical imperative by ‘doyng my office to the poore members of Christe’, explaining that his household shares its meals with the poor.101 At this juncture in the dialogue, it is clear that Becon viewed household piety not merely in terms of fixed boundaries of domestic space, but as an expression outside the household toward the poor of the ‘common weale’. Becon both in this dialogue and in his other writings argued that poor relief and hospitality began in the household, namely at the dining table. For example, in Becon’s prayerbook, The flour of godly praiers (1550), his ‘prayer to be sayed afore Dynner’ and ‘prayer to be sayde before supper’ contain entreaties for the poor and an exhortation for the household to ‘shew merci and kindnes to our pore neighbours by distrybuting to them part of these thy gifts [i. e. meal]’.102 While the meal at the dining table was an occasion of gratitude for God’s provision for the household, for Becon it was also an opportunity to be ‘liberall to oure pore neighbours through Iesu Christe our Lord’.103 Becon’s vision of a ‘godly’ household was one of Christian humanism, a concern for worldly needs and charitable works in the English ‘common weale’. 98 99 100 101 102 103

Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. A6v. Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. A7r Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. A7r. Becon, Christmas bankette, sigs. A8r–v. Thomas Becon, The flour of godly praiers (London: John Day, 1550) STC 1719.5, sig. C6r, C7r. Becon, The flour of godly praiers, sig. C7r.

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Further, the chairs and stools of Philemon’s house are engraved with Revelation 3:21 from the Bible, reminding household members that even the act of resting and sitting was to prompt them toward spiritual rest.104 Likewise, Philemon’s laver and doorposts also have biblical verses from Isaiah and 1 Corinthians engraved as visual aids to provoke obedience to God through ‘true repentaunce’ and hearts that are ‘cleane from the infeccion of mortal synne’.105 The Decalogue features prominently in Philemon’s house as one of two tablets upon the wall, and as Philemon explains, he reads it to his wife, children, and servants ‘every daye’.106 Furthermore, Philemon modelled biblical discipline within his household with the Decalogue in describing his meetings as the ‘ruler’ of his household with the offending member and compared that member’s actions against the Decalogue in order to highlight the violation.107 Apparently this was the only form of discipline Becon recommended in the household as Philemon insists that ‘other correccion than this use I none’. As Jonathan Willis correctly observes, the frequent use of the Decalogue in evangelical literature in Reformation England reinforced patriarchal authority in the household.108 Another important feature of Philemon’s Christmas banquet that demonstrates the significance of Christian humanism in the household is the presence of four ‘maysters of the Christmasse Bancket’ which serve the dishes: The Pentateuch, the Prophets, the New Testament, and the ‘Doctours of the chyrche’.109 As has already been established, Becon held that a godly household was one that was immersed in and governed by the Scriptures. His appeal to the early church fathers became a regular one in subsequent works for the purpose of highlighting the rupture of Catholic teaching, which also appealed to the fathers. The remainder of Christmas bankette hones in on the four spiritual dishes which Philemon offers to his friends. All four dishes stress different aspects of salvation as described in the Bible: the curse of sin, the promise of the seed of the woman, the double exhortation to repent from sin and believe the gospel, and the imperative to perform charitable acts. All of Becon’s metaphors and imagery stress a prominent theme in English evangelical literature in the 1540s: conversion by means of the very words of God was the means of producing a ‘godly’ society. Becon and other evangelicals preached that only solifidian conversion could produce charitable deeds that 104 105 106 107 108

Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. B2v. Becon, Christmas bankette, sigs. B3v, B4v. Becon, Christmas bankette, sigs. B4v–B5r. Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. B5r. Jonathan Willis, ‘The Decalogue, patriarchy and domestic religious education in Reformation England’ in Religion and the Household, Ed. John Doran, Charlotte Methuen, and Alexandra Walsham (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2014), p. 206. 109 Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. B7v.

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pleased God. Becon emphasised that one’s life after conversion was only truly ‘godly’ if ‘christen workes’ were practised. His writings stress not only individual responsibility in conversion, but also responsibility in developing ‘godliness’. Though virtue did not justify a man before God, it was demonstrable evidence of genuine conversion and was to be pursued. If ‘a godly and vertuous lyfe’ was not pursued, then ‘God the father is not oure father’.110 Becon summed up a Christian’s obligation in this life ‘to lyve well, to practyse goode works, to exercise godly acts, to lede a vertuous conversacion’.111 Further, Becon argued that as a Christian became more ‘godly’, he would develop a greater detestation of his own sinful tendencies, which in turn would lead to more godliness.112 Consequently, that ‘godly’ society or ‘publique weale’ would perform charitable acts for the common good of England. Every material item, therefore, in the ‘godly’ household was to stimulate the mind toward God in either one or two ways: conversion or the practice of the ‘godly lyfe’. Finally, it is important to note that woven all throughout the rhetorical and metaphorical world of Christmas bankette was Becon’s explicit statements connecting the godly household with the English ‘common weale’. For example, Philemon not only asserts his paternal authority in the household, but he ironically invokes Henry VIII, the one from whom Becon was hiding: ‘I am here under God and my Prince a ruler over this my lytle housholde, and I thynke my selfe to be so muche bounde in conscience to bryng them up virtuously’.113 He references Henry several other occasions in the dialogue within the context of household duties, among them to ‘honor youre moost victorious Prynce, and redoubted kynge’.114 The relationship between household and king was one that Becon continued to stress later in his writings, particularly in Flour of godly praiers, where the king, Edward VI, is repeatedly mentioned not only in the prayers for the king himself and Parliament, but also in household prayers for the members of the ‘common weale’ in reference to their submission to his reforms. Further, one of the tablets on the wall of Philemon’s house besides the Decalogue contains duties of all household members toward the king, parents, and ‘al superioures’.115 Becon took allegiance to the ‘common weale’ seriously by prioritising it in the ethos of household piety. Not only did Becon draw connections with Henry VIII, but through Philemon’s guests he modelled for his readers how they were to respond to Becon’s writings. Specifically, Theophilus responds to Philemon after he processes his 110 111 112 113 114 115

Becon, New yeares gyfte, sig. N5v. See Becon, Potacio[n], sig. E8v for a similar statement. Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. F6r. Becon, Potacio[n], sig. B8v. Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. B6r. Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. G3r. Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. B5r.

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visual stimulation to the written words of God in the house with his own words of commitment to apply Philemon’s teachings to all households in the English ‘common weale’: So Christian a house, so godlye an order never sawe I in my lyfe. All householders may take an example of you. Would God that many seynge this your acte, would in lyke manner folow it in every condicion, garnyshyng theyr houses with holy scriptures, and training theyr lives according to the same. Oh what a floryshynge realme than shoulde we have.116

Becon was quite optimistic of his ‘godly common weale’ agenda and its reception. From his own perspective, Becon’s Christmas bankette appeared to be a success vis-à-vis the implementation in English households. He claimed that it was ‘ryght well digested wherof I am not a lytle gladde’.117 It appeared to have been well received, since two more editions followed in the same year.118 Becon observed, using the vocabulary of evangelical conversion, that because of his Christmas dialogue, his readers ‘are also become newe menne in theyr conversacion. They have utterly put of[f] [the] olde Adam, and put on the newe man Jesus Christ’.119 Becon wrote of people extending charity to the poor, loving their neighbours, obeying the king, reverencing their spiritual ministers, nurturing their children in spirituality, and living in a manner that was ‘irreprehensible and fautles in the syght of all men’.120 So optimistic was he about the impact of Christmas bankette on his readers that he boldly claimed that conversions would continue to occur and ‘no Realme thorowe Christendome shall be able to compare withe Englonde in syncere doctryne and godlye lyvynge’.121 However, one must be cautious with Becon’s assessment of the reception of his own writings. His proclivity toward the hyperbolic and dramatic was a distinguishing mark of his writing style throughout his career. Becon’s ambitious program of reform that affected Tudor households raises a number of questions. What were Becon’s ulterior motives? Did he ultimately desire evangelical conversion or a godly England or did he envision both simultaneously? Did he envision an England as the inheritors of God’s covenant, the Old Testament people of God governed by a godly king? Whatever his motives and ultimate objectives, one thing is clear. He and other Henrician evangelicals believed that the Bible and evangelical conversion would produce substantial changes in the English ‘common weale’. The ‘godly houshold’ as the microcosm 116 117 118 119 120 121

Becon, Christmas bankette, sigs. B5v–B6r. Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. A6v. STC 1714 and 1715 respectively, both published again by John Mayler for John Gough. Becon, Potacio[n], sigs. A6v–A7r. Becon, Potacio[n], sigs. A7v–A8r. Becon, Potacio[n], sig. A8r.

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of the ‘common weale’, therefore, had to cultivate a ‘godly’ seed that would steer the ‘common weale’ toward godliness. And the practice of that godliness, beginning in the household, had the potential of transforming English society into a godly ‘common weale’.

Becon’s doctrine of justification The writings of Thomas Becon from 1541 to 1543 also revealed a commitment to evangelical theology, notably the doctrines of justification and sola Scriptura. With an analysis of his formal education and early clerical ministry established, it is essential to explore his theological position and priorities as a Henrician evangelical. Given that he was one of around five evangelical writers in the early 1540s, an understanding of his theology fills a gap in early evangelical theological scholarship. Becon’s theology was Lutheran to the core. Becon’s theology overlapped with that of Luther’s in its emphasis on sin and justification, adapting the latter’s ‘theology of the cross’. Underlying Becon’s theology was a lofty vision to transform the ‘common weale’, starting with conversion and resulting in a godly society. That godly society would be the very people of God, a concept he derived from Old Testament theology. One of the distinctive doctrines of early evangelical theology was the doctrine of justification, which entailed ‘conversion’, radical spiritual transformation of the inner life. The evangelical concept of conversion was not merely a conversion to Protestantism, but was one to a new spiritual state.122 Though the result of evangelical conversion was a ‘newe lyfe’, Becon viewed the life before conversion as a crucial theological point for his readers to grasp. In Newes out of heaven of 1541, Becon’s first published work and detailed treatment of the doctrine of justification, he devoted substantial space to original sin. His other works during this period also portray a dark view of man’s sin. He painted a bleak, hopeless picture of the state and trajectory of human nature. He did this by highlighting the original sin of Adam and Eve. Just as the Apostle Paul did, Becon connected Adam and the Fall of Man in Genesis 1–3 with his readers: ‘Adam is carnall, therfore are ye carnall, Adam is wicked, therfore are ye wicked’.123 Adam, as the federal head of the human race, precipitated the spiritual fall of all humankind. Adam’s ‘faulte’ and ‘wycked synne’ cause all to be ‘accursed’.124 Becon’s point in making this connection with Adam was for his readers to perceive ‘theyr owne 122 Peter Marshall, ‘Evangelical conversion’ in Peter Marshall and Alec Ryrie (eds), The Beginnings of English Protestantism, (Cambridge, 2002), p. 16. 123 See Romans 5. Thomas Becon, Newes out of heaven (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1541) STC 1739, sigs. D4v–D5r. 124 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. D4v.

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abhominacion’, taking responsibility for their own individual sin. This realisation of personal sin would ‘make the more haste to Gods goodnes’.125 Therefore, ministers were to remind their parishioners of ‘theyr owne misery, wretchednes and damnacion’.126 Man possessed no goodness at all and any ‘goodness’ that he performed was ‘lyke a cloth polluted with menstrue’.127 All that humanity could ‘bryng forth is thornes and brambles, that is to saye, synne, ungodliness, and all abhomincacion’.128 There was nothing within the spiritual nature of man that would ever commend itself to God. Within Becon’s theology of sin was the important Pauline and Lutheran concept of God’s wrath against sin and subsequent damnation of sinners. Referring specifically to the Apostle Paul’s argument in Ephesians 2 that people in their natural state were spiritually dead as ‘children of wrath’, Becon averred that God’s fury was inescapable. His rhetorical question to his readers regarding deliverance from divine damnation was penetrating: ‘Howe wyll ye escape the fearce wrath of God?’129 This question initiated a series of rhetorical questions designed to reiterate the total inability of mankind to earn God’s favour in order to escape damnation. Each occurrence of ‘what’, a rhetorical device known as anaphora, escalates to an unbearable point of suspense. The other occurrence of anaphora, ‘so’, builds the tension even further, leading the reader to exclaim, ‘Nothing!’. What wyll ye do nowe? What have ye nowe I praye you, wherewith ye may please him? What vertu then can ther come out of such corrupte and polluted place? What purenes can ther flow out of a puddle so fylthy, so dyrtye, so uncleane, so stynkying, so unsavery?130

Underlying these questions was the implication that the Catholic church’s teaching on merit was erroneous and antithetical to the doctrine of original sin. Becon supplied the brutally perturbing answer to his rhetorical questions: ‘ye have no waye to pacyfye Gods wrath’.131 Because of God’s anger, mankind was inevitably doomed to destruction and ‘Gods wrath’.132 Not even adhering to the Mosaic Law would placate God’s consuming anger.133 The wretched reality was that ‘cruel and grevous things’ 125 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. C3v. 126 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sigs. C2r–v; Becon, Newes out of heaven, sigs. D7v–D8r. 127 Thomas Becon, A newe pathway unto praier (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1734, sig. H6r. 128 Thomas Becon, A Christmas bankette (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1713, sig. C6r. 129 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. D7v. 130 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sigs. D7v–D8r. 131 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. D8r. 132 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. D7v. 133 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sigs. E1r–E2

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awaited sinners. Becon painted a hopeless state of ‘helles mouth is open and redye to swallow you up’ with ‘remedye is there none, all conforte is gone’.134 Having successfully established a deeply perturbing condition of sin, wrath, and judgment, Becon then presented the good ‘newes out of heaven’, sent from the ‘imperial seate of the moost blessed Trinite’.135 Becon returned to Genesis 3, citing the protoevangelium as the only antidote to the Adamic curse. The promise of the ‘seed of the woman’, Jesus Christ, was ‘the begynnyng of your ioy and gladness’.136 Becon then proceeded to delineate the act of justification with scriptural proofs. The very nature of justification, asserted Becon, was both substitutionary and penal. Christ’s purpose in His advent was to deliver the human race from the curse of sin. According to Becon, both Christ’s death and life were accomplished in the place of humans’, because of their inability to obtain their own salvation. Reasoning from Galatians 3, Becon demonstrated that Christ’s own death was His act of receiving God’s judgment and curse on humanity’s behalf to redeem it from the curse. Christ’s perfect, sinless life on the earth also secured one’s justification by the imputation of His own righteousness, a righteousness that God would only accept: ‘All that ever he [Christ] shal do, shal be done for your sake. All hys good deeds shal be yours. His ryghteousnes, holynes and godly lyfe shall be youres’.137 Becon adopted the concept of ‘imputation’ (imputatio) from Luther who argued from Paul’s discourse in Romans 4 that those who believed in Christ by faith became recipients of His righteous life.138 Like Luther, Becon argued that imputation involved a double exchange. Not only was there an imputation of righteousness from Christ to sinners, but there was a transfer of sin from sinners to Christ. Through Christ, ‘all your synnes shal be layd on his backe’.139 Another crucial facet of justification was reconciliation, the healing of the hostile relationship between man and God. Becon developed this idea in Newes out of heaven and frequently returned to it in his writings of the early 1540s. His approach was strikingly similar to Luther’s in stressing the disparity between the ‘hidden’ God and the ‘revealed’ God.140 Luther and Becon were not suggesting a dualistic God, but were rather highlighting the theological tension between God’s wrath and love for sinners. Becon’s theology of reconciliation focused on man’s 134 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sigs. D8r, E6r. 135 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. D2r. Becon’s reference to the Trinity was significant. It identified him with the Trinitarian tradition of the patristic period. 136 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. E7v. 137 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. F6r; Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. G2r. 138 Hans-Martin Barth, The Theology of Martin Luther (Minneapolis, 2013), p. 172; Brian L. Hanson, ‘Martin Luther and the English Reformation’, The Southern Baptist Journal of Theology. 21.4 (2017): p. 184. 139 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. F8r. 140 Barth, Theology of Martin Luther, pp. 124–126.

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marred relationship with God before his conversion and the restoration of that relationship after conversion. Becon noted that this rift in the relationship was not God’s doing, but man’s choice. Therefore, it was man, not God, who needed to be reconciled.141 One’s relationship with God before conversion was one of enmity, separation, and divine wrath, whereas God became approachable once justification was achieved. Becon used the image of intimate personal relationships to describe reconciliation, an image that would have been accessible to his popular readership. God is no longer an ‘enemy’ or ‘cruell judge’ to Christians, but a ‘dere frend’, ‘gentle father’, and ‘tender forgyver’.142 Who was the arbiter of this reconciliation between God and men? Becon affirmed that Christ was the one who initiated the restoration and appeased God’s wrath by means of ‘his moost precious bloude’.143 How then was this spiritual deliverance from sin accomplished? A ‘theology of the cross’ (theologia crucis) akin to Luther’s theology emerged in Becon’s early writings. Becon returned repeatedly to the theme of the passion of Christ as the means of reconciliation and, hence, justification. It was both the sins of man and the mercy of God toward sinners to bear the Adamic curse that led to His death. Again, Becon stressed personal responsibility. Each sinner was responsible for crucifying Christ: ‘Our synne, our iniquite, our ungodlynes, our abhominacion, our corrupte manners dyd slay hym, and put hym to that moost cruell deth. We are they that dyd kyl him’.144 Yet God commissioned Christ to be the remover of the curse, the latter willingly dying so that ‘by [His] passions and suffrynges we are perfectly made whole’.145 Though Christ obtained justification through His death, Becon, like other evangelicals, stressed that this spiritual liberation from the curse, though universally offered, was not automatically given to all sinners. Justification was to be received by faith alone through repentance. Becon’s solifidian position was unambiguous in his early writings. It was Becon’s perspective that in the ordo salutis faith alone was the pivotal point to grasp, because missing it would eternally damn one’s soul. Paraphrasing from Ephesians 2:8, Becon stressed that ‘by grace we are made safe thorow fayth, and that not of oure selves’.146 Christ’s death and ‘hys mooste blessed bodye shal be able to save so many as beleve in him’.147 Faith 141 Becon, Newe pathway unto praier, sig. Q3r. 142 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. C8v. 143 Becon, Newe pathway unto praier, sigs. Q3r, H5v; Thomas Becon, Davids harpe ful of moost delectable armony (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1717, sig. F4r. Thomas Becon, A new yeares gyfte (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1543) STC 1739, sigs. C3v, H3v. 144 Becon, Newe pathway unto praier, sigs. Q3r–v. 145 Becon, Newe pathway unto praier, sig. Q3v. 146 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. C6v. 147 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. G1r.

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was an interactive, relational act with God. It was to ‘beleve the Gospell’, and it made sinners ‘acquainted with God, and constituteth us frendes with Christ’.148 Though sinners persisted in their rejection of Christ for their salvation, God extended his mercy and ‘paciently abydeth our conversion’.149 Repentance was an act that was both a prerequisite for spiritual change and ‘a great cause of the mitigacion of gods wrath…Thus repentaunce maketh a man to dye unto synne, and to lyve to righteousnes’.150 In an apostrophe to repentance, Becon emphasised the ‘refreshment’, liberation, and transformation it brought upon souls.151 Yet he cautioned his readers to ‘truste not to they [sic] repentaunce’, for it was only God who abolished sins.152 Nevertheless, he viewed the act of repentance as crucial to the sinner’s justification. Those who repent would be ‘the nomber of his elect chyldren’.153 On the other hand, Becon stressed the inability of a man to choose to believe and to initiate repentance of his own will due to his depraved, sinful nature. How then was a man to repent if even his will was depraved, rendering him incapable of generating faith? A divine, supernatural work of grace had to occur within the soul, transforming the will, maintained Becon. In short, God was the giver of both faith and repentance.154 As the originator of justification, God dispensed faith to sinners by ‘excit[ing] and stor[ing] us up by his holy spiryte, and gyv[ing] us grace to repent, turne, and amende’.155 Becon explained in Augustinian terms, ‘Neyther can free wyll nor all the wytte and polecye that we have, profyte here any thynge, tyll God indueth us with strength from above’.156 Lancelot Ridley, a sixpreacher of Canterbury and cousin of Nicholas Ridley, also averred, ‘synners do repente and leave theyr synful lyfe nat [sic] of them selfe by theyr free wyll but by the grace and wyll of god’.157 Richard Tracy contended that an ‘alteration of mynde, wyl, love, or affection’ was necessary for conversion.158 This theological notion of God effecting faith appeared to be a violation or even an eradication of 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158

Becon, Christmas bankette, sigs. E8v, F4r. Becon, Newe pathway unto praier, sig. Q6r. Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. E6r. Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. E7v. Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. F2r. Thomas Becon, A potacio[n] or dri[n]kynge for this holi time of le[n]t (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1749, sig. D1r. Becon, Potacio[n], sig. C2v; Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. C2v; Thomas Becon, A pleasaunte newe nosegay (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1742, sigs. E4r–v. Becon, Newe pathway unto praier, sig. Q6r. Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. C7r. Immediately following this explanation, Becon quoted from Augustine on divine intervention in human depravity. Lancelot Ridley, A commentary in Englyshe upon Sayncte Paules Epystle to the Ephesyans (London: Robert Redman, 1540) STC 21038.5, sig. A4r. Richard Tracy, The profe and declaration of thys proposition: fayth only iustifieth (London: E Whitchurch, 1543) STC 24164, sig. C2v.

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free will. If God was the giver of faith, did a man really have a choice in the matter? And if God was the author of faith, why would he condemn sinners who refused to believe when He was the one who dispensed faith? Becon did not suggest that man’s will was nonexistent in faith and repentance, but he rather argued that the will was impotent and must be illuminated and ‘holpen of God to recover youre innocency’.159 Becon was not the only evangelical composing pamphlets on the subject of justification and evangelical conversion during the early 1540s. In 1540 Ridley composed a work that included a substantial treatment of justification.160 Ridley’s solifidian emphasis and incorporation of binaries paralleled Becon’s theological emphases. Ridley argued that men could only be ‘iustified throughe grace by fayth in Christ Iesus that is to forsake theyr olde lyfe and to walke in a newe lyfe’.161 Tracy was another evangelical figure who stressed justification by faith alone.162 His publication of a tract in 1543 laid out all the axioms of the evangelical position with scriptural proofs.163 In addition to his solifidian argument, Tracy’s main contention was that justification was a radical transformation of one’s life. Mere intellectual assent or confession to the doctrine was insufficient. There had to be a radical ‘chaunge’ in one’s ‘affections’ and ‘desyres’.164 Tracy also taught Luther’s doctrine of imputatio. Tracy described justification as a ‘covering’ and ‘clothing’ of Christ’s justice so that sinners ‘appere in the syght of god iuste, and ryghteous’.165 Becon, Ridley, and Tracy were probably influenced in their doctrine of justification most directly by Robert Barnes, whom Korey Maas contends was perhaps the closest theologically to Luther of the early English evangelicals.166 As early as 1530, Barnes in his Sentenciae began quoting Augustine on justification and adjacent to one of Augustine’s quoted statements on justification by faith alone, Barnes wrote, ‘nothing is profitable for justification but faith’.167 His Supplicatyon was a massive treatment on justification with obvious Lutheran influence.168 For Barnes, imputatio and reconciliation were especially crucial

159 Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. C8r. 160 Ridley’s Commentary was condemned as ‘heretical’ by Bishop Bonner in 1541. W. A. Shaw, ‘Lancelot Ridley’, ODNB (accessed 26 February 2014). 161 Ridley, Commentary in Englyshe, Preface, sig. 7v, sig. C6r. 162 Alec Ryrie, ‘Richard Tracy’, ODNB (accessed 26 February 2014). 163 Richard Tracy, The profe and declaration of thys proposition: fayth only iustifieth (London: E Whitchurch, 1543) STC 24164. 164 Tracy, Profe and declaration, sig. C2r. 165 Tracy, Profe and declaration, sig. B4r; sigs. B5r–v. 166 Korey D. Maas, The Reformation and Robert Barnes (Rochester, 2010), p. 42. 167 Cited in Maas, Reformation and Robert Barnes, p. 43. 168 Hanson, ‘Martin Luther and the English Reformation’, p. 184.

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points of justification. Christ ‘is al oure iustice…al only the peace maker by twene god and man’.169

Becon’s vision for a ‘godly common weale’ While conversion was an important point for Becon, he devoted much more space to the life after conversion, the ‘godly lyfe’. He was much more concerned about the proofs of conversion as seen in godly living than about the actual confession, since the confession was in one sense just that. Becon saw conversion as the true foundation for moral transformation and ‘godly’ character. But conversion was just the beginning from his perspective. Conversion was not only for the salvation and benefit of the individual, but was to be a means of blessing and transforming society into one of godly virtue. In the ‘godly lyfe’ Becon saw a potential for the transformation of the English ‘common weale’. While conversion had to be personal and individual, Becon reiterated in his Henrician writings that Christians could steer the English ‘common weale’ towards godliness. His writings on godliness and lay piety promoted not only a religious reformation within the church, but also a moral reformation of society where biblical virtue permeated the very fabric of society. How was such a lofty, optimistic vision going to be achieved? How was England to be transformed into a godly ‘common weale’? What was Becon’s proposed method? The ‘godly lyfe’ and virtuous society that Becon advocated in his works was certainly not a novelty of the 1540s. Since 1500 there had been a steady growth of pious literature in England, most of which originated from the Continent.170 For instance, Richard Pynson printed two English editions of Thomas à Kempis’ classic, The Imitation of Christ, in 1504.171 Tracts on prayer and legends of pious saints also came into print from France, the Netherlands, and Sweden.172 The 1530s witnessed the dramatic increase of pamphlets addressing Catholic household piety, including those by the monk of Syon Abbey, Richard Whitford, including his bestseller of 1530, The werke for housholders, followed by eight subsequent editions of it until 1537.173 In addition, four English editions of

169 Robert Barnes, A supplicatyon made by Robert Barnes (Antwerp: S. Cock, 1531) STC 1470, sig. E6r. 170 John A. F. Thomson, The Early Tudor Church and Society, 1485–1529 (London, 1993), p. 42. 171 William Atkinson, A ful devout and gostely treatyse of the imitacyon and folowynge the blessed lyfe (London: Richard Pynson, 1504) STC 23954.7 and 23955. 172 Thomson, Early Tudor Church and Society, p. 42. 173 Richard Whitford, The werke for housholders (London: Wynkyn de Worde, 1530) STC 25422.

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Imitation bombarded the print market in 1531.174 It appears that the first instance of English evangelical print arrived from the Continent, one of many early examples of works being transmitted to England from the Continent. This suggests a link between Continental piety and English piety. The first pious work in England was on the subject of Christian virtue and lay piety, a 1529 publication of The summe of the holye scripture and ordinarye of the Christen teaching by the Dutch reformer, Henricus Bomelius (d. 1570), probably translated by John Bale.175 It must have been a success in England since it was reprinted six more times.176 Bomelius’ compendium included chapters on marital piety, familial and household piety, and one’s relationship with civil authorities, all themes closely associated with English ‘common weale’ language. These themes are also present in Becon’s works through four Tudor reigns. As previously noted, Becon emphasised that one’s life after conversion was only truly ‘godly’ if ‘christen workes’ were practised. His writings stress not only individual responsibility in conversion, but also responsbility in developing ‘godliness’. Though virtue did not justify a man before God, it was incontrovertible evidence of genuine conversion and was to be pursued. If ‘a godly and vertuous lyfe’ was not pursued, then ‘God the father is not oure father’.177 Becon summed up a Christian’s obligation in this life ‘to lyve well, to practyse goode works, to exercise godly acts, to lede a vertuous conversacion’.178 Further, Becon argued that as a Christian became more ‘godly’, he would develop a greater detestation of his own sinful tendencies, which in turn would lead to more godliness.179 That virtue was both the fruit and evidence of conversion was where the primary difference lay between evangelical piety and Catholic piety. Inherent in Catholic theology was that the practice of virtue increased one’s merit with God and cancelled one’s accumulated debt of sins. Richard Whitford justified the Catholic position by arguing that one who showed deference to his parents would ‘encreace in vertue’. That deference ‘shal be remembred’ and ‘your synnes (by your duety done unto your parentes) be wasted and clene losed and forgiven’,

174 The English translation was by Richard Whitford. A fifth and final edition was printed in 1535. 175 Henricus Bomelius, The summe of the holye scripture and ordinarye of the Christen teaching (Antwerp, 1529), STC 3036. John Bennell, ‘Eliseus Bomelius’, ODNB (accessed 28 February 2014). John N. King, ‘John Bale’, ODNB (accessed 28 February 2014). 176 The years of those republications were 1535, 1536, 1538, 1547, and 1548. There were two publications in 1538. The 1547 edition was printed by the noted evangelical printer, John Day. 177 Becon, New yeares gyfte, sig. N5v. See Becon, Potacio[n], sig. E8v for a similar statement. 178 Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. F6r. 179 Becon, Potacio[n], sig. B8v.

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resulting in a further ‘encrease in grace’.180 Henry VIII himself, in a theological treatise he composed, contributed to the debate on justification and virtue. Though recognising the Pauline doctrine of the significance of faith in justification, he asserted that salvation was not obtained by faith alone, ‘but with the forsayd vertues coupled togyther [with fayth]’.181 In contrast, Lancelot Ridley insisted that ‘synners shulde gyve al laude and prayse to God only for the retourninge from synne to vertue and nothinge to them selves’.182 Becon repudiated the concept of saving merit, stating that the result of such a doctrine is ‘that Christ is but a quarter saviour and we make up the whole. O pernicious and dyvellyshe doctrine’.183 What then constituted true ‘christen workes’ in Becon’s estimation? Virtue alone was insufficient to transform society. Becon repeatedly used the teaching of the Catholic church to demonstrate this. Virtue was inextricably linked to the Bible, the source of virtue. Becon argued that the availability and the presence of the Bible directly influenced morality within society. When the Bible was present in society, godliness thrived, but ‘where it is expulsed, banysshed and exiled’ sinful living abounded.184 By extension, the preaching of the Bible or the lack thereof had an impact on society, for ‘whan the preachyng of Gods word fayleth, the people peryshe and runne cleane oute of order’.185 Thus, Becon’s vision of a godly England was founded on the assumption that as subjects ‘read the holy scriptures’ the godliness of the ‘publique weale’ would increase through ‘visyt[ing] the sick and comfortles’ and doing ‘the works of the spiryte’.186 A godly ‘publique weale’ then for Becon was to be achieved through biblical education, clerical reform, and social reform. In 1542 Becon advocated a rigorous biblical education that was to be instituted and regulated by civil authorities. First, he called for magistrates to install godly curates who would ‘teache the people the true worde of God’. And he asked them then to select ‘modest, learned, grave, and godly Scholemasters’ for the rearing of youth in the ‘knowlege of humayne letters and civile manners’ as well as ‘in the feare of the Lorde’.187 At the same time, he affirmed that parents must instruct their children in the teachings of the Bible so that the children would ‘knowe and serve 180 Whitford, Werke for housholders, sig. E2r. 181 [Henry VIII], A necessary doctrine and erudition for any christen man (London: Thomas Berthelet, 1543) STC 5168.7, sig. B2r. 182 Ridley, Commentary in Englyshe, sig. A4v. 183 Becon, New yeares gyfte, sig. H8r. 184 Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sigs. A3r–v. 185 Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sig. A3v. 186 Becon, Newes out of heaven, sig. A5. 187 Becon, New pollecye of warre, sig. K6r.

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God aright’.188 Household piety was a crucial issue for Becon and would occupy much space in his writings, for he saw the potential of a godly commonwealth through the godliness in domestic spheres. What Becon ultimately desired was a national church overseeing religious education so that ‘godliness’ would take root and flourish within families and finally create a godly ‘publique weale’. If education in biblical virtue was going to succeed at a national level, then a godly clergy was also necessary. Popular support for the clergy and the church’s traditions was on the decline after 1530, particularly in the Southwest. One possible reason was clerical abuse and moral decadence including multiple reports of adultery.189 Christopher Marsh notes that the number of testamentary bequests drastically diminished beginning in the 1530s, though he suggests that it was more complex than just the moral decline of the clergy, citing other possible reasons.190 Christopher Haigh has downplayed the idea of ‘anticlericalism’ of being a crucial catalyst for reformation in England, an idea that has been suggested by older scholars such as G. G. Coulton.191 Arguing that ‘anticlericalism’ in the Henrician period was a thing of ‘fiction’, Haigh contended that any scholarly discussion of ‘anticlericalism’ should be confined to the Elizabethan Church.192 However, the polemic of Becon and his contemporaries challenge Haigh’s reticence to acknowledge the reality of ‘anticlericalism’ in the Henrician Church. Becon and other evangelicals consistently flagged clerical corruption and link it to their own efforts of ecclesiastical reform in England. For example, all of Becon’s tracts are replete with diatribes against ungodly priests, calling for drastic reforms in the Church. He decried clergy for being consumed with a ‘desyre of fylthy lucre, for an easy lyvyng’. Their lives were ‘wycked and abhominable’.193 They neglected the pastoral and spiritual care of their parishioners along with their studies of the Bible, prayers, and charitable giving.194 Becon attributed the moral corruption in England to those ‘Authors of all evell’ who should have been condemned for their ‘sleapye negligence’.195 In jeremiadic rhetoric Becon lamented that the priests allowed ‘many soules to perysh’. Their

188 Becon, New pollecye of warre, sigs. K6r–v. 189 Robert Whiting, The Blind Devotion of the People (Cambridge, 1989), pp. 129, 145. 190 Christopher Marsh, Popular Religion in Sixteenth-Century England (London, 1998), pp. 92– 95. 191 Christopher Haigh, ‘Anticlericalism and the English Reformation’ in Christopher Haigh (ed), The English Reformation Revised (Cambridge, 1987), pp. 56–74. 192 Haigh, ‘Anticlericalism and the English Reformation’, pp. 56, 73. 193 Becon, New pollecye of warre, sig. H6v. See also, Thomas Becon, An invectyve agenst the moost wicked detestable vyce of swearing (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1543) STC 1730.5, Preface, sigs. A4r–v for similar indictments. 194 Becon, New pollecye of warre, sigs. H6v–H7r. 195 Becon, Invectyve, Preface, sigs. A3v, A4v.

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‘dissolute lyving’ brought dishonour upon the ‘christen religion’.196 Other evangelicals before 1543, such as Frith, Taverner, and Tyndale, likewise placed blame squarely on the clergy for England’s spiritual and moral decadence.197 All three condemned the clergy for their ‘covetousnes’ and ‘dissimulation’. Frith had a choice word for them: ‘monstres’.198 Because Becon believed that the presence of immoral clergy was a ubiquitous problem in the commonwealth, he made several petitions in his Henrician tracts, calling for a regenerate, ‘godly’ clergy. Becon listed several spiritual and moral requirements for parish ministry. Only clergy who loved God and the Bible, preached Christ’s gospel, meditated on the Bible, and who encouraged their parishioners to read the Scriptures were to be appointed.199 Clergy were to be virtuous and responsible. They were to ‘bryng up’ their parishioners ‘vertuously’ and ‘yf onye of them shoulde perysshe, theyr bloud should be required of [the priest’s] hande’.200 At one point, he listed a number of personal virtues, largely derived from the Apostle Paul’s first letter to Timothy, and concluded that ministers were to be ‘whole and sounde in all kynde of vertu and godlynes’.201 Another concern of Becon’s for the future of England was its social climate. His descriptions of English society were dismal and pessimistic. Once again, he blamed the conservative clergy for the ungodly condition of the ‘common weale’. He was grieved at the apparent indifference toward the Bible.202 Becon claimed that the cause of England’s international wars and other social issues was the ‘despisyng of Gods word, and the wicked and dissolute manner of lyvynge that is vied amonge them that professe Christ by mouthe’.203 He wrote of pervasive moral corruption, lamenting that vice ‘reygneth, vertu hath no place’.204 Becon’s linkage with lack of ‘vertu’ in the ‘common weale’ and clerical corruption, again, undermines Haigh’s view, affirming that Becon and other evangelicals did view both the corruption of the Church and the decadence of the ‘common weale’ as related to each other. In addition, both constituted a need for a wide-scale 196 Becon, Invectyve, Preface, sigs. A3v–A4r. 197 John Frith, A pistle to the Christen reader The revelation of Antichrist (Antwerp: Johannes Hoochstraten, 1529) STC 11394, sigs. C5r, H1r; Richard Taverner, The Epistles and Gospelles with a brief postil upon the same from after Easter tyll Advent (London: Richard Banks, 1540) STC 2968, sigs. D1v, K8v; William Tyndale, An answere unto Sir Thomas Mores dialoge made by Willyam Tindale (Antwerp: S. Cock, 1531) STC 24437, sigs. C7r, M6r. 198 Frith, Pistle to the Christen reader, sig. C5r. 199 Becon, New pollecye of warre, sigs. H8r–v. 200 Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. B6r. Becon was quoting from Ezekiel 33:8. 201 Becon, Potacio[n], sigs. E2v–E3r. 1 Timothy 3. 202 Becon, Invectyve, Preface, sig. A4v. For a more extensive treatment of England’s social sins, see Becon, New pollecye of warre, sigs. D6r–v, H1r–H2v; Becon, Newes out of heaven, Prologue, sigs. B2r–B7v. 203 Becon, New pollecye of warre, sig. D8r. 204 Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sig. E7r.

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reformation. Futher, Becon observed the poor being neglected as they ‘go about from dore to dore’ without ‘pitie’ shown to them.205 And, again, Becon pointed his finger at the priests for their ‘covetousnesse’.206 Poverty would be a theme that would carry across his Edwardian and Elizabethan tracts.207 In order to correct this injustice to the poor, everyone was to live by the rule, ‘Be the very same to thy neyghbour, that God is to the[e]. Be even another Christe to thy neyghboure’.208 What is perhaps most striking in Becon’s jeremiads was the assumption that England was the people of God called to be a godly ‘common weale’, recalling Israel of the Old Testament and its relationship with God. It was within this context that Becon called for repentance and prophesied that ‘a finall destruccion is at hand, if we correcte not oure synnefull manners shortly and amend our wycked lyves’.209 Becon was not alone in taking up the prophet’s mantle as Taverner uttered one of his jeremiads to the ‘common weale’, lamenting the ‘treasons’, ‘sedicions’, ‘lesynges’, and other social sins. And like Christ, he called England a ‘croked and parverse generacyon’.210 Though there was certainly a pessimistic tone underlying the evangelicals’ evaluation of English society, Becon felt that there was at least one reason to be hopeful for its future. Becon’s use of Old Testament rhetoric extended to his optimistic view of Henry VIII. For Becon, the concept of a ‘godly’ king was crucial to the realisation of a godly ‘publique weale’. With superlative terms, Becon went as far to say that Henry’s reign surpassed that of Solomon’s in its success, ‘so that our condicion at this present doth not a lytle excede and passe the state of those Israelites’.211 Further, Becon noted that he would have ‘rather chose[n] to lyve under this our moost Christen kynge withe that lytle nothinge that I have, and to enioye the benefit of Goddes worde, than to live under Salomon, if he were now alyve’.212 Becon’s praise of Henry is even more ironic, perhaps even strange, in light of Becon’s hiding in Kent due to the purge of evangelicals under Henry’s reign. Becon’s contradictory views of Henry VIII and the extent of reformation in England will be examined more thoroughly in Chapter 6. Not only did Becon depict Henry VIII as England’s legitimate, divinely appointed king of God’s people, but he also argued for obedience to all civil government and to the king in particular. In Pleasaunte newe nosegay, Becon as Philemon presented the five ‘floures’ of Christian virtue to his neighbors. The 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212

Becon, Newes out of heaven, Prologue, sig. B3r. Becon, Newes out of heaven, Prologue, sig. B3v. See Chapters 4 and 7. Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sig. M3v. Becon, New pollecye of warre, sig. C2r. Taverner, Second booke of the Garden, sig. F6r. Matthew 17:17. Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sig. A8v. Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sig. B1r.

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‘flour’ of ‘faythfull obedience’, specifically obedience to Henry, occupied the most space in his tract. Becon utilised Old Testament concepts to convince his readers of their duty to their king. The basis for obedience was the delegation of authority by God. He supported his argument by numerous Old Testament examples. The underlying assumption for Becon was that England was the people of God. Just as Israel was subject to her divinely anointed king, so England was to ‘be subiecte and serve our moost christen Prince accordyng to the wyll of God’.213 Civic authority entailed the duties delineated by Moses in the book of Deuteronomy, duties including the execution of impartial justice and the protection of the poor and orphans.214 Then with several metaphors Becon affirmed the authority of kings in language of divinely-gifted sovereignty. Kings were ‘vicars of God’, ‘the lyvish Image of God’, ‘ministers of God’, ‘fathers of the contre[y]’ and ‘pastors of the people’.215 Who then was exempt from Henry’s divine sovereignty? Becon listed nine specific clerical offices of the church and nine specific occupations as examples to demonstrate that there were no exceptions to ‘faythfull obedience’ to Henry. With an attack on the Catholic church, he included the pope, ‘that Romyshe Porke’ on the list of those who were subject to Henry.216 Then Becon gave thanks to God for allowing Henry to recover his divine authority, which had been for many years ‘deprived by the furious tyranny of that moost cruel Romysh Bysshop and his bloudye whelpes’.217 Becon supported his view of clerical submission to the king with several biblical examples including those of Aaron submitting to Moses and Ahimelech to King Saul.218 Clearly, Becon viewed Henry as the extension of the Old Testament kings of Israel to whom even papal authority was to be subject. Since godly kingship was a principle for God’s people universally, then it was to apply to the English ‘common weale’ if it was to be ‘godly’. The strange tension in this, however, was that while Becon and evangelicals claimed and believed in theory that there was no exception to obedience to the king, the prophets of God, they also would claim, had divine approval to bypass the king’s authority if need be. This concept, including the topics of ‘sedicion’, ‘rayling’, and ‘disobedience’, is more fully developed in Becon’s Edwardian tracts and will be discussed at that point.219 Becon was not alone or the first among the evangelicals in his praise of Henry in Old Testament kingship terms, demonstrating that this concept of ‘godly’ 213 214 215 216 217 218 219

Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sig. G6r. Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sigs. H7r–v. Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sigs. I1r. Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sigs. I3v. Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sigs. I4v. Becon, Pleasaunte newe nosegay, sigs. I5r. See Chapters 4 and 5.

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kingship was an emerging theme in evangelical literature. Miles Coverdale lauded Henry for his ‘most ryghteous admynistracyon’ that resembled that of the ‘most vertuous kynge Iosias’.220 Further, he claimed Henry as ‘oure Moses’ who delivered England from spiritual Egypt and ‘oure olde Babylonycall captivyte’, a reference to the Catholic church.221 John Pylbarough compared Thomas Cromwell to Shaphan, the ‘ryght vertuous and faythfull’ secretary to King Josiah.222 He also affirmed that God ‘raysed up’ Henry to deliver the ‘corrupt and wandrynge flocke’ of England.223 John Bale compared Henry to three Old Testament leaders in one sentence. Henry embodied Jehoshaphat, Jehu, and Josiah and will, Bale predicted, ‘breake downe the buggerye places that are yet in the howse of the lorde’.224 But Bale in the same tract pushed for even greater religious reform, expressing his desire for Henry to completely abolish and ‘to putt a syde hys [bysshopp of Rome’s] fylthinesse’. If Henry were to do this, it would be ‘a moche more godlye acte’ than just ‘secluding’ him.225 Similarly, George Robynson, in a letter to Cromwell in 1538, communicated his wish that Henry destroy the image of the female crucifix, St Uncumber, of which many women, were engaged in excessive superstitious practices.226 ‘If the King puts them all away’, suggested Robynson, ‘he will have the blessing that king Josias had’.227 Thus, even in the midst of praise and hope among the evangelicals, there were strong desires for the king to extend the reformation even further. The irony within all the words of approbation from the evangelicals was Henry’s role in the arrest and persecution of many of their own number. Though Becon never criticised Henry directly in his Henrician writings, there were subtle attacks on Henrician liturgy in the church. Becon’s blend of praise and critique of the king in his writings will be further examined in the context of the legacy of Henry and Edward and the extent of reformation in England.228 Becon was also optimistic that once England repented of her wickedness, she would be restored to God as His heritage and kingdom. Citing several Old Tes220 Miles Coverdale, Biblia the Byble, that is, the holy Scrypture of the Olde and New Testament, faithfully translated in to Englyshe (Southwark: J. Nicholson, 1535) STC 2063.3, Preface, sig. 3v. 221 Coverdale, Byble, Preface, sig. 4r. 222 John Pylbarough, A commemoration of the inestimable graces and benefites of God (London: Thomas Berthelet, 1540) STC 20521, Preface, sig. A3r. 223 Pylbarough, Commemoration, sig. C2r. 224 Bale, Course at the Romyshe foxe, sig. B3r. 225 Bale, Course at the Romyshe foxe, sig. M6v. 226 Ilse E. Friesen, The Female Crucifix: Images of St. Wilgefortis Since the Middle Ages (Waterloo, 2001), pp. 58–62. 227 TNA, SP 1/134f.182. 228 See Chapter 6.

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tament examples of Israel from the book of Judges, Becon suggested that England was God’s chosen people who needed to repent and then to defeat her global enemies including the Ottoman Empire, ‘that mortall enemy of Christes religion, that destroyer of the christen fayth, that perverter of all good order’.229 Just as God used Israel’s enemies to judge His people for their sins, so God employed the Turks as ‘the scourge of God to ponish us for our wycked and abhominable lyvynge’.230 What triggered this response toward the Turks was the growing threat of the Ottoman Empire as it was expanding its boundaries into Europe. Evangelicals and Catholics alike viewed the Ottoman threat in spiritual terms as they considered the potential of a disruption of Christendom. While Europeans in general viewed the encroaching Ottomans as the ‘enemy of our Faith’, there were differences in opinion as to God’s purpose in all of this.231 As early as 1518, Luther promoted the idea in Resolutiones disputationum that the Ottomans were indeed commissioned by God to strike His people for their sins, and to resist the Ottomans by military force would be to oppose God’s punitive purposes and would ultimately fail.232 Luther, however, began shifting from his original analysis and observed in his Preface to Johann Brenz’s Twentytwo Sermons of 1532 that the potentially imminent Turkish invasion should serve as an apt reminder for Germans to repent of their sins.233 In his Preface to Johann Sutel’s Gospel on the Destruction of Jerusalem of 1539, Luther noted that ‘the Turk has melted down and smashed everything from Greece to Germany by God’s wrath’.234 Yet Luther by the early 1540s was advocating an evangelical engagement with the religion of Islam as he himself supervised a translation of the Qur’an.235 This engagement was for the purpose of apologetics and understanding Islamic belief in order to refute it. Thomas More held a different position on the Ottoman crisis. While viewing the Turks as infidels, he blamed the Turkish advances on Luther and other evangelicals who, in his opinion, were causing disunity within the Catholic church. In his response to William Tyndale’s rebuttal to his position, More compared Tyndale and the evangelicals to the Turks. For instance, as the Turks ‘byd men byleve in Machometes alchoran: yt is

229 Becon, New pollecye of warre, sig. C3v. 230 Becon, New pollecye of warre, sig. C5r. 231 ‘Enemy of our Faith’ was coined by Catherine of Aragon in a letter to Charles V, dated 5 November 1533. Matthew Dimmock, New Turkes: Dramatizing Islam and the Ottomans in Early Modern England (Aldershot, 2005), p. 22. 232 Dimmock, New Turkes, p. 28. 233 Luther’s Works: Prefaces, II, ed. Christopher Boyd Brown (St. Louis, 2011), p. 5. 234 Luther’s Works: Prefaces, II, p. 226. 235 Dimmock, New Turkes, pp. 28–29.

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Thomas Becon’s early theology: evangelical conversion and household piety

more infydelyte to do as Tyndale hath done, purposely mysse translate Crystes holy gospell, to sette forth heresyes as evyll as the Alchorane’.236 With the sack of Buda and the taking of nearly all of Hungary in 1541 by Suleiman, Becon was convinced that the ‘scourge of God’ was unleashed for the sins of the ‘Christian’ nations. The same year of Becon’s analysis of the Turkish expansion in The new pollecye of warre, two other Continental tracts were published in English, also grappling with the Ottoman threat.237 Antoine Geuffroy and Theodorus Bibliander, like Becon, took the punitive view of the Turks and called for the repentance of all people in Christendom. Geuffroy indicted people on the Continent for their ‘synfull lyvynge’, suggesting that God allowed ‘this cruell woolfe [Ottoman Empire]’ to ‘have stained his mouthe with Christian blood’.238 Bibliander also concurred that God would ‘wounde’ His people now with the Turks in order to prevent ‘deadely woundes’ later.239 Reminiscent of the Old Testament promises of deliverance from one’s national enemies, Becon reiterated that the path to victory over the Ottoman Empire was collective obedience to God’s law, the Bible. England then would be a godly ‘common weale’, the true people of God in the world.

Conclusion How would Becon’s vision of a godly ‘common weale’ develop within volatile political times? The political and social undercurrents during the subsequent two decades would threaten to thwart his vision. Becon’s ambitious program of reform raises a number of questions. What were Becon’s ulterior motives? Did he ultimately desire evangelical conversion or a godly England or did he envision both simultaneously? Did he envision an England as the inheritors of God’s covenant, the Old Testament people of God governed by a godly king? Whatever his motives and ultimate objectives, one thing is clear. He and other Henrician evangelicals believed that the Bible and evangelical conversion would produce substantial changes in the English ‘common weale’. And that change, in turn, had the potential of overturning and transforming an English society into a godly ‘common weale’. 236 Thomas More, The co[n]futacyon of Tyndales answere (London: William Rastell, 1532) STC 18079, sig. A2v. 237 Dimmock, New Turkes, p. 43. The two tracts were Antoine Geuffroy, The order of the greate Turckes courte (London: Richard Grafton, 1542) STC 24334; Theodorus Bibliander, A godly consultation unto the brethren and companyons of the Christen religyon (Antwerp: Radulphe Bonifante, 1542), STC 3047. 238 Geuffroy, Order of the greate Turckes courte, Preface, sig. 3r. 239 Bibliander, Godly consultation, sigs. A2r, A3v.

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Becon’s preoccupation with ‘godly’ living, prophetic authority in building a godly ‘publique weale’, and using print as a voice to drive these themes will further be developed in this study. The foundation of a godly ‘publique weale’ was biblical literacy and godly preaching. These two aspects dictated the content and style of his printed works. Even when addressing social issues, his content was biblically informed. In his later writings, issues of the commonwealth such as the intellectual nurture of children, poor relief, ‘sedicious’ subjects, and ‘tiraunical’ magistrates would be expressed within the context of a godly commonwealth shaped by God’s prophets. These issues with Becon’s approach and responses to these will be the focus of the remainder of this study.

Chapter 2. Nicodemism, silence, and companionship

Becon’s years of exile and silence in the Midlands are qualitatively different from his time of hiding in Kent. Becon’s time of writing in Kent was extremely productive with several of his titles becoming popular bestsellers. Though his tone was cautious, he freely expressed his religious convictions, inevitably leading to his second arrest. His exile in the Midlands, however, effectively stymied any writing, rendering it difficult to interpret these silent years. His own account of his experience recorded in Iewel of ioye portrayed this period as one of internal reflection and spiritual nurture. However, Becon’s own retrospective testimony of his exile must be examined carefully, and his attitudes and perceptions must be filtered through and understood within his exilic context. As will be discussed later in this chapter, he was not always a reliable source in communicating information. Three clear themes emerge in Becon’s time of exile as constructed from his retrospective narrative composed in 1548. First, Becon’s attitudes reveal those of an exile, even within his own country. His defensiveness is obvious. Even some of the metaphors he used to describe himself during this period were directly connected to the biblical exile of Israel in the wilderness. As I will argue, Becon’s attitudes toward exile were typical for evangelical exiles during the sixteenth century. These attitudes will be explored further in this chapter. The linked subjects of flight, exile, and Nicodemism have had a prominent and longstanding niche in Reformation historiography and this chapter, in part, will revisit that discussion. It will contend that ‘Nicodemism’ must not be limited to the external behaviours of dissimulation, prevarication, idolatry, and flight, all of which have been explored in recent scholarship. Rather, as it will be demonstrated, ‘Nicodemism’ must include an evaluation of the role of silence as a form of Nicodemism. Lastly, this chapter will contribute to this important discussion by considering three aspects of exile and flight that have almost been entirely overlooked in recent scholarship. First, the primary geographical focus of the research has been on flight to or from the Continent rather than domestic exile within one’s own country as is the

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case with Becon. Becon’s decision to remain in the country will be explored later in this chapter. Second, the Marian period has received significantly more treatment than the Henrician era in relation to the exiles.1 However, many parallels can be drawn between the experiences of the Marian exiles and those of the Henrician exiles. But beyond the problem of the geographical and chronological contexts of flight, the more pressing issue that needs to be addressed in regards to Becon is silence as a response to persecution. While most scholars address the problem of flight and desertion, the issue of silence is almost entirely absent from the discussion on persecution. The very nature of silence naturally poses many challenges in constructing a comprehensive picture of it. Why would Becon deliberately choose silence and how does he justify it? Was silence deemed a legitimate response to persecution? Is silence worse than flight? These are important questions that will be addressed in this chapter. A second theme in Becon’s exilic experience is his constant mobility in the Midlands. His mobility was necessary to avoid recapture. Becon’s narrative of his flight and exilic wanderings through the voice of Philemon was essentially a travelogue, recounting the sights, cultures, and people of his journeys. This mobility worked in his favour in that he developed new friendships, while at the same time renewing old ones. His friendships were a balm to him in his exile and they also served him well for his upcoming ecclesiastical appointments. A third prominent theme that surfaced in Becon’s exilic reflections was his repeated remarks on the spiritual condition of the communities that he visited. His commentary suggests a keen interest in the societal affairs of rural communities as well as a larger concern for the religious ambience of England. His observations were crucial to his evolving vision of a ‘godly’ England. He frequently described these communities in terms of ‘common weale’ vocabulary. But again, his observations made in retrospect must be treated with caution. Whether his thoughts were his actual ones he had in exile is, of course, uncertain. In addition, his regular access to the homes of families through his tutoring of youths allowed him to gain a clearer understanding of their spiritual state. His interactions with the future generation of England reinforced his fears about a biblically illiterate society. He was deeply perturbed by what he witnessed and was determined to rectify the problem. The root of the problem in his estimation was the ungodly and unlearned state of the clergy. His observations are instructive in tracing Becon’s growing understanding of a ‘godly’ commonwealth, a theme that ultimately became the dominating concept in his Edwardian writings and beyond.

1 The exception to this would be Alec Ryrie, The Gospel and Henry VIII: Evangelicals in the Early English Reformation (Cambridge, 2003).

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Becon’s arrest and recantation Becon’s hiding in Kent was unexpectedly disrupted in May 1543 when he was arrested by the authorities and taken to London for trial. It is unclear whether he was tried by his diocesan, but he was eventually taken to Paul’s Cross in London where he would stand trial. He was accused of espousing and propagating ‘naughty and pestiferous opinions’ in his early Henrician writings.2 Becon’s arrest was not the only incident that indicated an uncovering of an underground evangelical community in Kent. Alec Ryrie has identified at least twenty-four Kentish clergy who were accused of heresy in 1543, primarily for iconoclasm.3 He has also noted that there were at least forty-nine offenders in Kent, all laity, accused of heresy in 1543. Most of them were arrested for rejecting the practices of the Catholic church and having sacramentarian views.4 Both Ryrie and Diarmaid MacCulloch have suggested that Thomas Cranmer was the main target of this exposure of the Kentish evangelicals in what is known as the ‘prebendaries plot’, a scheme devised primarily by Bishop Stephen Gardiner to undermine Cranmer.5 The conservatives accused Cranmer of concealing those evangelicals in his diocese.6 Becon’s incarceration was part of a general purge of evangelicals that included the arrests of Robert Wisdom and Robert Singleton, who along with Becon signed their formal confessions on 14 May. On 8 July at Paul’s Cross the accused read their public recantations. Wisdom’s career up to this point was strikingly similar to that of Becon. Wisdom, like Becon, had already been arrested once in 1541 for his anti-Catholic rhetoric as the curate of St Margaret Lothbury in London.7 At the urging of his uncle, Edward Whitchurch, an evangelical printer, he recanted and was subsequently released. Instead of retreating into hiding as Becon had, he returned to actively preaching an evangelical gospel. In between his itinerant preaching engagements, he may have been lurking in Kent as an undercover agent for Cranmer’s business on the Continent.8 However, it was his Lenten sermon of 1543 at St Mary Aldermary in London that aroused the conservative faction, leading to his second arrest. Wisdom’s statement, apparently composed by Gardiner, confessed that he had ‘slandered the true doctrine of our religion and defamed 2 3 4 5

LP XVIII pt. I, no. 538, p. 313 ([14 May] 1543). Ryrie, Gospel and Henry VIII, p. 224. Ryrie, Gospel and Henry VIII, pp. 224–225. Ryrie, Gospel and Henry VIII, p. 224; Diarmaid MacCulloch, Thomas Cranmer (New Haven, 1996), pp. 297–298, 311–312; Glyn Redworth, In Defence of the Church Catholic: The Life of Stephen Gardiner (Oxford, 1990), pp. 176–177. 6 Ryrie, Gospel and Henry VIII, p. 224; Redworth, Gardiner, pp. 185, 200. 7 Alec Ryrie, ‘Robert Wisdom’, ODNB (accessed 17 March 2014); Susan Brigden, London and the Reformation (Oxford, 1989), p. 349. 8 MacCulloch, Cranmer, p. 311.

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the charity of the ministers of justice’, the latter phrase implying that he criticised his prosecution.9 The statement further indicated that Wisdom was accused of preaching against free will and the veneration of saints as well as concurring specifically with Becon’s expressed opinion that genuine Christians were suffering persecution for their faith. According to the statement, Wisdom’s opinion was a paraphrase of Becon’s words in Davids harpe ful of moost delectable armony of 1542, articulating his conviction that ‘persecution is a token of the true Gospel’.10 This notion was extracted from an argument that Becon had made from church history, that persecution was a means of the growth of the Christian church. Referencing Tertullian, Becon contended that the chyrche of Christ hath than moost floryshed in all kind of vertue, and the christen fayth bene moost strong, whan there was moost extreme persecucion. For the bloud of the holye martyrs is the water, wherwith the gospell of Christ is watered and made to grow.11

This veiled reference was intended as polemical rhetoric against both the Catholic church and the state for being persecutors of the true church as the evangelicals viewed it. This charge was odious to the religious authorities and served as one of the reasons for the arrests of both Wisdom and Becon. According to some of his letters composed while he was incarcerated, Wisdom was fully prepared to face death at the stake.12 But in the end, he wavered and read his recantation. Following his release, he went into hiding in Staffordshire where he resided with John Old, an evangelical with whom Becon would later lodge. Wisdom resided there until around 1545, feeling deep remorse for recanting. While still in prison, he composed his Vindication, which reaffirmed his belief in the evangelical faith and condemned his conservative persecutors.13 Robert Singleton, a Cambridge scholar who received his BA in 1522, was a cleric connected to the Tudor court by virtue of his role as a preacher under Thomas Cromwell, a position he held from 1533. He was subsequently appointed as Anne Boleyn’s chaplain in 1535.14 Cromwell relied on Singleton to report to him on the activities of the conservatives. Singleton caused a commotion when he preached against the existence of purgatory on 2 April 1536.15 It was most likely due to his theological treatises that he was arrested in May 1543, though his recantation statement did not specify his alleged offences. Singleton’s re9 LP XVIII pt. I, no. 538, p. 313 ([14 May] 1543). 10 LP XVIII pt. I, no. 538, p. 313 ([14 May] 1543). 11 Thomas Becon, Davids harpe ful of moost delectable armony (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1717, sig. D2r. 12 Ryrie, ‘Robert Wisdom’, ODNB. 13 Brigden, London and the Reformation, pp. 350–351. 14 Alec Ryrie, ‘Robert Singleton’, ODNB (accessed 17 March 2014). 15 Brigden, London and the Reformation, p. 259.

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cantation statement was the briefest of the three, and he was forced to confess that ‘I am an unlearned fantasticall fool’.16 After his release, he was rearrested and curiously charged with treason instead of heresy. He was accused of stirring up sedition and being involved in some ‘conspiracy’, the latter claimed by Stephen Gardiner.17 It was alleged that he along with Cranmer’s assistant John Twyne deliberately withheld evidence regarding the clandestine evangelical community in Kent, though the charge may have been trumped up.18 Singleton was executed at Tyburn on 7 March 1544. Becon’s recantation statement began with a brief retrospective synopsis of his itinerant preaching engagements in Norfolk and Suffolk between 1538 and 1541, recounting his ‘evil and false doctrine’ and his 1541 recantation.19 He was forced to confess his arrogance in assuming the pseudonym of Theodore Basil despite ‘his ignorance of Greek’. The latter acknowledgement is intriguing in light of the humanist education he received at Cambridge.20 Further, Becon demonstrated knowledge of Greek in his writings that does not appear to be feigned. He consistently explained Greek words from the Greek New Testament and provided translations of ancient Greek texts.21 Why then was he forced to confess an ignorance of Greek? His coerced confession appears to have been a tool of the conservatives to sway public opinion against the evangelicals. It may be that the conservatives sought to portray the evangelicals as unlearned and, therefore, erroneous and untrustworthy in their biblical exegesis. Becon was then prompted to confess the heresies propounded in his works. Of the twelve titles he composed between 1541 and 1543, eleven were listed as heretical. The only title absent was The true defence of peace of 1542, and its omission is curious. It was possibly an inadvertent omission by either the authorities or a clerk recording the titles. However, the tract’s bold patriotism and excessive praise for Henry may have protected it from censure. Becon then personally tore up his own tracts in the presence of the witnesses, stating his desire that they be destroyed at the decree of the king. Upon Becon’s release from prison, it does not appear that he, in contrast to Wisdom, felt any remorse for his recantation and his subsequent writings make no mention of his recantations. 16 17 18 19 20 21

LP XVIII pt. I, no. 538, p. 313 ([14 May] 1543). Brigden, London and the Reformation, p. 352. Ryrie, ‘Robert Singleton’, ODNB; Brigden, London and the Reformation, p. 352. LP XVIII pt. I, no. 538, p. 313 ([14 May] 1543). Malcolm Kitch, ‘George Day’, ODNB (accessed 28 January 2014). See Chapter 1. Examples of his use of the Greek New Testament include Becon, Davids harpe, sig. D8r.; Thomas Becon, A new yeares gyfte (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1543) STC 1738, sigs. D7v, E4v, F5v, K4v; Thomas Becon, A potacio[n] or dri[n]kynge (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1749, sigs. B6v, I1v. Examples of his translations of ancient Greek texts include Thomas Becon, An invectyve agenst the moost wicked [and] detestable vyce of swearing (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1543) STC 1730.5, sigs. E3v, F5v, H4v, J5v–6r.

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Regardless of Becon’s motives or emotions in recanting, he retreated to a period of utter silence in the Midlands.

‘A time to kepe scilence’: The problem of exile and silence The summer of 1543 began for Becon a period of ‘exile and banishment’. It was a time of hiding in ‘straunge places, as were unknowen to me’ in the Midlands.22 What is known of those five years of silence was recorded in the fifth of his seven Philemon dialogues, Iewel of ioye. Though not published until 1550, it was certainly completed by 1548 based upon Philemon’s comment that he was away from his neighbours for ‘almooste these fyve yeres past’ since their last encounter, which would have been the publication of A newe yeares gyfte in 1543.23 While Becon took refuge among the rural communities of central England, many of the Henrician evangelicals escaped to the Continent.24 While discussions of these English exiles on the Continent are insightful, what is almost entirely absent in recent scholarship are the experiences of the domestic exiles. In Becon’s narrative alone he mentioned Robert Wisdom, John Old, Hugh Latimer, the Glovers, and John Aylmer as all taking domestic refuge from persecution. It appears the evangelical underground network was extensive during 1543–1547, but very few details have emerged from this period. What apparently caused many to remain in England were strong ties to family. Latimer, who was also silent from 1540 to 1546, spent most of his time with his niece, Mary, and her husband, Robert Glover, who were also evangelicals. Robert’s brother, John, was a man of considerable wealth and financially supported this small group.25 Becon’s mother was a widow living in Norfolk and it could be that he felt uncomfortable leaving the country, especially since she was in ill health.26 Much has been written on the attitudes of religious exiles and Nicodemites in the sixteenth century, and it is important to place Becon’s experience within the broader European reformation experience.27 There are several distinguishing 22 Thomas Becon, The iewel of ioye (London: J. Day and W. Seres, 1550) STC 1733, sig. B6v. 23 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B1v. 24 Ryrie, ‘Robert Wisdom’, ODNB; John N. King, ‘John Bale’, ODNB (accessed 28 February 2014); H. L. Parish, ‘George Joye’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014). 25 Allan G. Chester, Hugh Latimer: Apostle to the English (New York, 1978), p. 156. 26 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. E1v. 27 Rudolph P. Almasy, ‘John Knox and A Godly Letter: Fashioning and refashioning the exilic ‘I’’ in Crawford Gribben and David George Mullan (eds), Literature and the Scottish Reformation (Aldershot, 2009); C.J. Bradshaw, ‘The exile literature of the early Reformation: obedience to God and the king’ in N. Scott Amos, A.D.M. Pettegree and H. van Nierop (eds), The Education of a Christian Society (Aldershot, 1999); Ole Peter Grell, ‘Exile and Tolerance’ in Ole Peter Grell and Bob Scribner (eds), Tolerance and Intolerance in the European Reformation

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attitudes that almost all exiles displayed in their writings. Perhaps the most prominent is self-justification, especially using biblical vocabulary. Becon explained that he had no other recourse but to flee so that he could be more effective in other regions where he would be better treated. Becon appealed to the examples of Christ and the Apostles, particularly in Matthew 10, in their flight from opposition and persecution.28 Becon’s use of this text is not unique. Jonathan Wright points out that Matthew 10:23 was often cited by Marian exiles to justify flight from persecution.29 Since Christ taught his disciples to flee a city whose inhabitants persecuted them, evangelicals argued, then it was also justifiable for them to do so as bearers of the truth. Another recurring theme in exilic literature was that of divine vengeance upon the exile’s enemies. Rudolph Almasy has noted, using John Knox as an example, that the exiles often echoed the message of the imprecatory Psalms in calling down judgment from heaven upon their enemies.30 This anticipation and public appeal to God for vengeance was ultimately another means of justifying flight and exile, for it naturally distinguished the ‘elect’ from the ‘enemies’. Implicit in this cry for retribution was the exile’s attempt to justify and align himself on God’s side as the true servant and prophet of the Lord who was passively suffering at the hands of God’s enemies. To raise one’s hand against or harm one of God’s prophets was to bring upon oneself divine retribution. Ryrie notes that the ‘ferocious and intemperate’ tone of the Henrician exiles permeated their writings as they described their enemies, as Bale did, in terms of ‘lecherous locustes leapinge out of the smoke of the pytt bottomlesse’.31 While Becon did not specifically invoke God’s wrath upon his enemies in the same manner as Knox or Bale, he believed that his own enemies had already faced divine judgment for mistreating him by the time he wrote in 1548.32 Becon did not identify those ‘certain persons’ nor did he address the nature of their punishment, but he may have had Dr John London, Germaine Gardiner, and Bishop Stephen Gardiner, uncle of Germaine, in mind. All three were instrumental in the ‘Prebendaries’ Plot’ against Cranmer and the arrest of a number of Kentish

28 29 30 31 32

(Cambridge, 1996); Ole Peter Grell, Calvinist Exiles in Tudor and Stuart England (Aldershot, 1996); Peter Marshall, ‘Religious Exiles and the Tudor State’, in Kate Cooper and Jeremy Gregory (eds), Discipline and Diversity, Studies in Church History 43 (Woodbridge, 2007); M. Anne Overell, Nicodemites: Faith and Concealment between Italy and Tudor England (Leiden, 2019); Andrew Pettegree, Marian Protestantism (Aldershot, 1996); Jonathan Wright, ‘Marian Exiles and the Legitimacy of Flight from Persecution’, The Journal of Ecclesiastical History 2 (2001). Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B6r. Wright, ‘Marian Exiles’, p. 224. Almasy, ‘John Knox and A Godly Letter’, p. 102. John Bale, cited in Ryrie, Gospel and Henry VIII, p. 97. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B2v.

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evangelicals.33 London, dean of the cathedral in Osney, was Gardiner’s associate and supplied the bishop with news of evangelical heresy in Windsor in 1543. When Gardiner’s plan to reveal the evangelicals backfired, London was imprisoned and died in 1544. Germaine Gardiner was secretary to his uncle and was executed in 1544 for denying Henry’s authority over the church. The elder Gardiner was arrested in the summer of 1548 and imprisoned for the duration of Edward’s reign. It is certainly likely that Becon was referring to at least one, if not all, of these men in attributing their fates to God’s vengeance for their ‘Nerolike cruelty’ in their treatment of evangelicals. The fact that Becon attributed their punishment to the direct act of God is significant in that he intimated a belief in divine vindication in relation to his own persecution.34 He compared all his enemies to Jannes and Jambres, whom the Apostle Paul described in 2 Timothy 3:8 as opposing Moses and subsequently receiving God’s judgment.35 While these lines of reasoning were more theoretical and subjective, the exile needed indisputable, visible evidence so that others would accept as legitimate. The exile’s self-image was important, and one of the best ways to protect that selfimage was to appeal to God’s will. For instance, God’s physical protection during and after flight was considered proof that God approved of flight. The logical conclusion, therefore, from the evangelical perspective was that the flight was done in God’s will and with his blessing. Many evangelicals argued that God’s will included deliverance from bodily harm. In fact, both Luther and Beza contended that to refuse God’s deliverance from physical danger was tantamount to stupidity.36 Self-preservation from the exile’s viewpoint was one of God’s gifts. Justification in terms of God’s will and personal safety became a ubiquitous motif in exilic literature.37 In Becon’s account of his exile there were clear attempts to justify his flight to the Midlands along this line of reasoning. Becon insisted that God did not leave him ‘succourlesse’ in his exile, and he ‘wanted no good thynge’.38 He described his meals in terms of God ‘aboundauntlye feadeth’ him.39 However, as Wright argues, the crucial question in this discussion is this: how did the exile prove that he was in alignment with God’s will? How could the exile be absolutely certain that in his individual situation it was God’s will to flee?40 The exile’s response to this was to point to specific provisions or circumstances 33 C. D. C. Armstrong, ‘Stephen Gardiner’, ODNB (accessed 29 June 2015); Redworth, Gardiner, pp. 188–191. 34 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B5v. 35 Numbers 16:1–35. 36 Wright, ‘Marian Exiles’, p. 230. 37 Wright, ‘Marian Exiles’, p. 229. 38 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B6v. 39 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B6v. 40 Wright, ‘Marian Exiles’, p. 234.

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during and after flight that evidenced some apparent ‘divine influence’ and that worked in the favour of the exile. These ‘providential’ events were viewed as sure proof that the exile was following God’s will. As Wright notes, in most exilic accounts there were obvious insertions of hyperbole to overemphasise the point about providence. For example, many exiles mentioned the display of favour toward the exiles initiated by the inhabitants of the land. While hospitality may seem to be a perfectly ordinary response to guests, the exiles consistently equated favour and hospitality with ‘providence’, viewing it as divine influence upon the inhabitants.41 Besides frequent references to human favour shown to exiles, general descriptions of a smooth passage and entry into the foreign land are abundant in exilic literature.42 Becon used hyperbole in stressing divine providence through hospitality in his own situation in the Midlands: ‘For one house, I founde 20 and for one frende, an hundrede. I coulde wysh nothynge for the provision of thys my life, but I had it plentuously’.43 In contrast to the idea that good fortune equated to divine favour were the accounts of the trials and self-sacrifice of the exiles. This seems paradoxical, but the exiles presented their experiences as being punctuated with both blessings and hardships, viewing both aspects as all part of God’s will. Just as divine provision signified for the exile that he was in God’s favour, so the experience of suffering and sacrifice was just as much God’s will. A tone of both self-defense and self-pity pervaded the accounts. Just as the accounts of divine favour were often exaggerated, so was the list of sacrifices stretched to highlight their commitment to Christ’s injunctions in Matthew 19 to abandon all and follow His will. The narratives were replete with descriptions of loneliness and the strangeness of the new customs and peoples of the lands.44 And at the same time, these displays of sacrifice and hardship seem to have the intention of generating sympathy and pity from others. John Bale, for example, described his time in exile in the 1540s in terms of separation from community.45 In this same vein, Becon’s account is fairly typical of evangelical exiles. Becon’s frequent references to the strange customs and people of the Midlands were all part of the image of sacrificial service to God he wanted to communicate. At one point Becon quoted Christ’s promise in Matthew 19 regarding a reward for those who love Christ more than family and friends, indicating not so humbly that he was in line for such a reward.46 In addition, Becon’s self-deprecation is evident by 41 Wright, ‘Marian Exiles’, p. 236. 42 Wright, ‘Marian Exiles’, pp. 234–236. 43 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B6v. In the margin, Becon inserted these biblical references: Psalm 33 and Matthew 6. Both are portions that speak of God’s provisional care for His own people. 44 Wright, ‘Marian Exiles’, p. 237. 45 John Bale, cited in Ryrie, Gospel and Henry VIII, p. 96. 46 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B7r.

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his frequent references to himself as ‘disobedient servaunt’, ‘unprofitable servaunt’, and ‘wretched servaunt’, used apparently to draw pity to himself.47 Justifying one’s flight from persecution is one thing, but justifying one’s silence is entirely another. Scholarly treatment of this topic has been relatively scant, and what follows is a construction of Becon’s motive of silence. Why would Becon refrain from print or any form of communication for five years? How did Becon justify his silence? What made Becon’s silence all the more striking was his voluminous production from 1541 to 1543. His silence, therefore, was deliberate and prompted by some ulterior motive. How did Becon feel about his own silence? After his return to London in 1547, Becon expressed remorse for his silence and submitted an apology to his friends for ‘neglect[ing] the neighbourly office which I ought to have practised toward thee’.48 Becon acknowledged that he was ‘disquieted’ at the thought of not seeing them since 1543.49 Was it really just ‘sluggishness’ and ‘neglect’ that prevented Becon from writing and communicating with his friends? To simply excuse himself on these terms seems too easy a thing to do. And was he genuinely remorseful and ‘disquieted’? Becon’s stated reason for his silence in the narrative raises many questions, especially since later he seemed to contradict himself in supplying another justification. His second stated reason muddied the waters of his motives even further and even undermined his credibility. Becon alleged that ‘when neyther by speaking, nor by writing I coulde do good, I thoughte it best not rashly to throwe my self into the raveneynge paws of these greadye wolves, but for a certaine space to absent my selfe from theyr tyrannye’.50 What was his biblical reason for abandonment? ‘For as there is a time to speake, so is ther[e] a time to kepe scilence’ (Ecclesiastes 3:7).51 And to end his justification, he added, ‘It is good to loke for the saving health of the Lorde with scilence’.52 So ‘sluggishness’ and ‘neglect’ were obviously not the real reasons for his silence by his own admission. Becon came closer to the reason for his silence with this explanation. But was he reliable at this point, given the fact that he essentially undermined his sincerity by supposedly contradicting his initial explanation for his silence? Even so, his explanation on the grounds of escaping the ‘tyrannye’ of his enemies seems hardly justifiable or noble, and perhaps overly simplistic. While it is true that his bookseller, John Gough, died in 1543 and his printer, John Mayler, was arrested in 1543 for his contribution in printing evangelical tracts, those facts still do not sufficiently corroborate or justify Becon’s silence in print and neither does he 47 48 49 50 51 52

Becon, Iewel of Becon, Iewel of Becon, Iewel of Becon, Iewel of Becon, Iewel of Becon, Iewel of

ioye, sigs. B2r, B6v, B7r. ioye, sig. B2r. ioye, sigs. B2r–v. ioye, sig. B4v. ioye, sig. B4v. ioye, sig. B6v.

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ever refer to them. Surely, there must be something more penetrating than this brief justification from Becon. Or is there? Becon’s silence and constant mobility do bear the appearance of self-preservation, a key trademark of a Nicodemite, a charge that Becon seems to ward off several times in his narrative by appealing to God’s direction and protection on his frequent journeys. Becon undoubtedly desired to avoid another arrest, which more than likely would have led to his death. So could Becon’s ulterior motive in silence be self-preservation? The absence of a specific reason on Becon’s part may indicate a man concerned with his own self-image. Even more importantly, could Becon’s silence be a form of Nicodemism, since in reality he was conforming to those who wanted him silent? The final aspect that must be considered in addressing silence in exile is the problem of pastoral dereliction and the abandonment of the flock. Opponents of exile such as John Hooper and John Marsh charged the exiles with deserting their flocks and being unfaithful in their pastoral obligations.53 But Marian exiles such as Thomas Lever and Thomas Sampson justified themselves, responding that their ministry through the pen was a legitimate means of being connected to their flocks back at home.54 This pastoral obligation of staying connected to his flock and exhorting it to remain steadfast was considered an essential element in justifying the exile’s physical absence from his people.55 Calvin, for example, exhorted the exiles that ‘no permission is granted them to flee to a retreated spot where they may remain unemployed’.56 This is where Becon’s silence poses a huge problem for him, one of which he was acutely aware as some of his remarks to his friends imply. Though he had no parish, he had close friends. Judging from his four Philemon dialogues in his Kentish hiding, he had a sense of pastoral responsibility for them. By his own admission, Becon terminated all communication with his friends as a pastor would abandon all interaction with his parish. He understood very well that by severing all communication he was disobeying God’s clear command to edify the community of believers. He acknowledged that he was not ‘an obedient servaunt’ in this matter.57 Despite these frank admissions of guilt and wrongdoing in being silent, the question remains why Becon chose silence. It is relatively painless to give an ‘apology’ for one’s silence, but to submit a reasonable explanation is quite another matter. And that is exactly what was missing from Becon.

53 54 55 56 57

Wright, ‘Marian Exiles’, p. 236; Pettegree, Marian Protestantism, pp. 100–101. Wright, ‘Marian Exiles’, p. 238. Wright, ‘Marian Exiles’, p. 239; Almasy, ‘John Knox and A Godly Letter’, pp. 103–104. John Calvin, cited in Wright, ‘Marian Exiles’, p. 239. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B2r.

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Wandering in the wilderness, 1543–1547 Becon’s first place of refuge was the rural Peak District in Derbyshire. What motivated Becon to seek refuge in the Peak is unclear. It appears that he had no friends or acquaintances in the region. What is peculiar and almost ironic about Becon’s choice of Derbyshire for his exile is that it being a rural, less populated region would have made Becon as a southern foreigner markedly conspicuous. This region of England must have garnered a reputation for its uncouth and illiterate inhabitants, gathering from Becon’s comments through his fictional characters in Iewel of ioy. However, Becon ultimately rejected the stereotype. Theophile, representing the Kentish gentry, remarked to Philemon with sarcasm that the residents of the Peak were ‘very peakeish people’ to which Becon as Philemon replied, ‘Not so, I confesse to you, that I found ther very good wittes and apt unto learnyng’.58 At another point when Philemon recounted becoming acquainted with a ‘godly’ man in that region, Christopher was astonished that such a man would be from such a ‘barbarous and rude a country’ and ‘so unlearned a region’.59 While Becon rejected the prejudicial remarks regarding the Derbyshire residents, his comments through his fictional characters reinforced the obvious cultural and geographical differences. His frequent observations of its peculiarity and odd customs insinuate a posture of discomfort at his surroundings as a stranger away from the familiar. It appears that in spite of this being a domestic exile, Becon attempted to stress geographical and cultural differences in a way that a Continental exile would. Becon’s mention of the stereotypical perception of Derbyshire, however, was not entirely inaccurate. According to David Cressy, the parish records for Derbyshire between 1641 and 1644 reveal that nearly three-quarters of parishioners were incapable of signing their names, only producing a mark in the record books.60 It can be surmised that it would not have been any better in the 1540s. Derbyshire was a mining community, and miners during this period were generally illiterate.61 Added to this stereotype was the strong accent of the dialect of the inhabitants of Derbyshire, which according to the mid-seventeenth century historian, Philip Kinder, was so thick that it was nearly impenetrable.62 Derbyshire had been the centre of the lead mining industry for England. The lead industry in the Peak had become especially successful by the 1540s, expe-

58 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B7v. 59 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C1v. 60 David Cressy, Literacy and the Social Order: Reading and Writing in Tudor and Stuart England (Cambridge, 1980), p. 73. 61 Cressy, Literacy, p. 133. 62 Adam Fox, Oral and Literate Culture in England, 1500–1700 (Oxford, 2000), p. 102.

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riencing a production increase of sixfold from 1480.63 Around 1540, around 2,000 residents in that region relied upon that industry for their employment.64 During the lambing and harvest season, they also engaged in agricultural production. Economically, the residents were quite poor with around sixty-eight per cent of the population living on estates that were assessed at less than £2 in 1543.65 Furthermore, based upon the records of taxpayers of seven mining villages in the southern Peak during the 1540s, it appears that the presence of gentry in this region was negligible.66 These facts suggest underemployment among the population. While the Peak District remained generally free of internal conflict, there was a substantial drafting of soldiers from Derbyshire in preparation for the imminent invasion of Scotland.67 It is unclear where in the Peak Becon resided, but it is conceivable that he was in one of the mining villages in the southern Peak region since he referred to a journey he made to Alsop en la Dale.68 Wherever he was lodging, he had his books and wardrobe transported, most likely from Kent, to his new residence.69 According to Becon, his time in the Peak was spent as ‘scholemaister’, instructing young ‘scholers’ about ‘Christe and the knoweledge of hym’ as well as about ‘good litterature’.70 The fact that he interacted with students and families further suggests that he was located in the southern Peak Country, where the greater density of population lay centred around the mining towns of Wirksworth, Matlock, and Bakewell.71 Besides his daily tutoring, the only social interaction that Becon recorded during his time in the Peak was his visit to an anonymous evangelical ‘gentilmanne’ in Alsop en la Dale. Becon’s account of that visit is intriguing in that it provides a tiny glimpse of social and religious culture in the Peak. This man was ‘auncient in yere also rype in the knoweledge of Christes doctrine’, an intriguing description that raises questions regarding the gentleman’s age and spiritual journey.72 Could he perhaps have been influenced by Lollard teachings in the late fifteenth century? Richard Rex has noted that Lollardy was at one point highly active in Derbyshire in the late fourteenth century, so there is the possibility that 63 Andy Wood, The Politics of Social Conflict: The Peak Country, 1520–1570 (Cambridge, 1999), p. 43. 64 Wood, Social Conflict, p. 44. 65 Wood, Social Conflict, pp. 47–48. 66 Wood, Social Conflict, p. 49. 67 Wood, Social Conflict, p. 53; LP XVII, no. 661, p. 371 (24 August 1542); TNA, SP 1/181f.184; TNA, SP 1/196f.214; TNA, SP 1/183f.116; TNA, SP 1/200f.31. 68 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sigs. B7v–B8r. 69 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B7v. 70 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sigs. B7v, C7v. 71 Wood, Politics of Social Conflict, pp. 54–55. 72 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B8r.

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this gentleman may have come from a Lollard tradition.73 Unfortunately, Becon provided no further clues. He recalled that he was surprised that this gentleman possessed many books, again suggestive of the fact that southerners viewed Peak residents as illiterate. Among the man’s ‘godlye bokes’ was a copy of Miles Coverdale’s translation of the New Testament of 1536, which Becon deduced was ‘well worne by the diligente readynge thereof ’.74 At this juncture, Christopher interjected with shock that it was ‘a miracle to fynde an olde man namely in those parties, where Christe I thynke as yet was never trulye preached’.75 Included in the gentleman’s library was the standard evangelical fare for the day: Tyndale’s The obedie[n]ce of a Christen man and The parable of the wycked mammon, Frith’s The revelation of Antichrist and A disputacio[n] of purgatorye, and Bomelius’ The summe of the Holy Scripture.76 And, of course, Becon put all modesty aside to point out that this man possessed all the works of Theodore Basille, demonstrating that his own writings had apparently reached Derbyshire. With the exception of Frith’s titles, these works were popular evangelical bestsellers.77 The listed works were all published in Antwerp in the late 1520s except for Disputacio[n], which was published in 1531. Another common link between these titles was that they were anti-Catholic polemic, while also being apologies for the doctrine of justification by faith. It is significant to note that not mentioned among the gentleman’s evangelical volumes were the most recent titles from the Continental exiles such as those of Joye and Bale. It was presumably easier to access Becon’s new titles than it was to obtain literature by English exiles on the Continent.78 Becon through Philemon observed from his optimistic perspective that the restriction and burning of

73 Richard Rex, The Lollards (New York, 2002), pp. 66–67. See also Maureen Jurkowski, ‘Henry V’s Suppression of the Oldcastle Revolt’ in Gwilym Dodd (ed), Henry V: New Interpretations (Woodbridge, 2013), pp. 108, 117. 74 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B8r. 75 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B8v. 76 William Tyndale, The obedie[n]ce of a Christen man (Antwerp: J. Hoochstraten, 1528) STC 24446. William Tyndale, The parable of the wycked mammon (Antwerp: J. Hoochstraten, 1528) STC 24454. John Frith, A pistle to the Christen reader The revelation of Antichrist (Antwerp: Johannes Hoochstraten, 1529) STC 11394. John Frith, A disputacio[n] of purgatorye (Antwerp: S. Cock, 1531) STC 11386.5. Henricus Bomelius, The summe of the holye scripture and ordinarye of the Christen teaching (Antwerp, 1529), STC 3036. 77 The obedie[n]ce of a Christen man went through a total of six editions: 1528, 1535, 1537, 1548 (2), and 1561. The parable of the wycked mammon also had six editions: 1536, 1537, 1547, 1548, 1549, and 1561. The summe of the holye scripture had seven editions: 1529, 1535, 1536, 1538 (2), 1547, and 1548. Frith’s Disputacio[n] had two editions (1531, 1537), while his Revelation had only one edition (1529). 78 Ryrie, Gospel and Henry VIII, p. 230.

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evangelical books actually ‘caused them [the people of England] to have the more respect unto the bokes’.79 Becon’s view of the religious culture of the Peak, however, was pessimistic. He described the common people as ‘ignoraunte’ in spiritual things and immersed in the practices of the Catholic Church including ‘hearing mattens, and masses, in supersticious worshipping of Sayntes, in hyeringe soul caryars to syng trentals, in pattering upon beades, and in such other popeishe pedlary’.80 Becon, likewise, described the clergy in the Peak as ‘baselylearned’, ‘blind’, and ‘dombe dogs’.81 It is difficult to ascertain the length of Becon’s stay in the Peak, but it is clear that by around 1544 he received news that altered his plans. His good friend and accused companion from 8 July 1543, Robert Wisdom, was hiding in an unknown location in Staffordshire with John Old, another evangelical in exile.82 ‘Desieringe greatly to se[e] him [Wisdom]’, Becon packed his belongings and ‘made hast towarde him’.83 Becon described Old as ‘young in years, and yet auncient in true Godlines and christen life’.84 Old was probably originally from Shropshire and could have been in Staffordshire to join the persecuted evangelical community there.85 Old credited Hugh Latimer with his conversion. The two evidently remained in close contact, as they would eventually live within a couple of miles from each other. Latimer would later assist Old to secure a position as vicar in Cubbington, Warwickshire in 1549.86 The intimate friendship between Becon and Wisdom was doubtless in part due to the striking similarities they shared in their careers and life experiences. Both had had several clerical posts. Both were arrested twice for espousing heresy in the years of 1541 and 1543. Both recanted each time. Both evidently had a mutual respect for each other. Wisdom esteemed Becon as ‘the man of God’.87 And Becon wrote of Wisdom that ‘he is a man in whom the feare of god reigneth unfainedly’.88 This happy fellowship of the three evangelicals continued until Wisdom was unexpectedly summoned by letters to return to his ‘olde familiars’, probably near the end of 1545. Becon never specified the nature and destination of Wisdom’s swift departure. Possible destinations of Wisdom’s ‘olde familiars’ include his 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88

Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C2v. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C3r. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C4r. Alec Ryrie, ‘Robert Wisdom’, ODNB. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C5v. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C6r. Old’s age at this point is unclear as the year of his birth is unknown. Ryrie, ‘Robert Wisdom’, ODNB. Chester, Hugh Latimer, p. 156. LP XVIII pt. I, no. 538, p. 313 ([14 May] 1543). Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C7r.

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childhood home located somewhere in Oxfordshire and Oxford itself where he was a curate at All Hallows for about two years.89 Within a few months, Wisdom would be forewarned that the Privy Council had issued a warrant for his arrest. Knowing that a third recantation would be out of the question, he escaped to Bremen in May 1546 where he would remain in exile until Henry VIII’s death.90 After his friend’s departure, Becon continued to tutor children during his stay in Staffordshire. His host, Old, apparently was in charge of a school, so it appears that Becon assisted Old in instructing the students.91 Their work at the school raises the question of whether Old and Becon were required to be licensed and to sign a statement of conformity. In some parts of early modern England, many teachers were not required to be licensed, especially those who travelled frequently or who established a school for a brief period of time as in Becon’s situation.92 Tutors who were unlicensed were exempt from signing a statement of conformity. If Old and Becon were able to avoid licensing, were they also able to elude school inspections? Inspections in England were actually quite rare and only happened when there were specific grounds for inspection.93 Even if Old and Becon were officially licensed to teach, they were most likely able to avoid any school inspection especially since their school appears to have been temporary. Schools in England in the sixteenth century generally had much greater freedom to dictate their own affairs than their counterparts on the Continent where there were strict regulations and careful monitoring of schools.94 If Old and Becon were licensed, the only legal requirements incumbent upon them in running their school was that they used an approved catechism and an official Latin grammar.95 But because of the temporary nature of Old’s school, it is likely that Old and Becon could freely operate the school to their own desires. Though the exact details of Old’s school are unknown, Becon recorded that he imparted to his students ‘the knowledge of good litterature and instilled into their brestes the elements and principles of Christes doctrine’.96 Based upon the curriculum of other schools during this same period, it can be deduced that Becon was referring to a humanist curriculum comprised of Greek and Latin literature.97 In 1540 a Latin grammar, Institutio Compendiaria totius Gramma89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97

Ryrie, ‘Robert Wisdom’, ODNB. Ryrie, ‘Robert Wisdom’, ODNB. C. Bradshaw, ‘John Old’, ODNB (accessed 16 April 2014). Ian Green, Humanism and Protestantism in Early Modern English Education (Aldershot, 2009), pp. 73–74. Green, Humanism and Protestantism, p. 74. Green, Humanism and Protestantism, pp. 74, 78. Green, Humanism and Protestantism, p. 74. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C7v. Green, Humanism and Protestantism, pp. 80–84.

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ticae, was published by Thomas Berthelet at Henry VIII’s commission. And in 1542 an elementary grammar was published as a supplement to the Institutio. These grammars, compiled by several authors, became the standard grammars until the nineteenth century.98 Henry took an active role in implementing these as the uniform Latin grammars for all schools, and specifically prohibited the use of any other Latin grammars. Therefore, Becon most likely used this grammar in his Latin instruction. Becon contrasted the religious culture of Staffordshire with that of Derbyshire in that he perceived the people to be less superstitious and they ‘savoured somwhat more of pure religion’.99 He attributed their knowledge to ‘certain englishe bokes that were among them, and thorowe traveilers to and fro London’, suggesting that Staffordshire was more connected to London than Derbyshire was.100 However, he was not at all complimentary about the clergy with whom he came into contact. The priests were ‘massemongers appliyng their portasse and masse boke very diligently, but the holy Bible verie little’.101 Becon’s criticisms of the clergy raise some questions: how would Becon have known this? And did he actually attend local worship? Not to attend worship would surely have raised suspicions in the community, unless Old had his own chapel. These comments among others imply that he personally encountered some of the clergy, but in what context was unspecified. During the course of 1545 Becon continued his teaching with Old, but near the end of the year circumstances suddenly changed for Old who was ‘impelled by uorgent causes’ to leave Staffordshire.102 Did their teaching activities come under government scrutiny? The nature of the ‘uorgent causes’ is uncertain, but as Old like Becon was an evangelical exile, the move may have been prompted by fears of capture. The abruptness of it is peculiar and may indicate a flight from something. This theory is supported by the fact that Becon, rather than remaining at the school in Staffordshire, accompanied his patron southward to an unspecified location in Warwickshire. Becon resumed his tutoring, having found some wealthy gentry who needed a tutor for their sons. He noted that among the four counties he had visited in the Midlands, Warwickshire was ‘to me moste dere and pleasaunt’.103 In Warwickshire he came into the ‘acqueyntaunce and frenshyppe of many learned men’.104 98 Nicholas Orme, Medieval Schools: From Roman Britain to Renaissance England (New Haven, 2006), pp. 308–309. 99 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C8r. 100 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C8r. 101 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C8r. 102 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. D2r. 103 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. D2r. 104 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. D2r.

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Becon’s point about ‘learned men’ must not be overlooked in light of his earlier comments regarding the ‘peakeishness’, ‘unlearnedness’, and ‘barbarity’ of the residents of Derbyshire. Warwickshire in the sixteenth century was a wealthy agrarian society.105 It was also a region of many gentry, a substantial number of whom were connected to the royal court.106 With multiple links to London, it is peculiar that Old and Becon would take up residence in a region where they might be turned in to the authorities. However, there also appears to have been a considerable underground evangelical presence. The ties to London were especially apparent, for instance, in the Throckmorton family of Coughton, Warwickshire. Though Sir George Throckmorton was a conservative, three of his sons, Nicholas, Kenelm, and Clement assisted Anne Askew and were present at her execution.107 Because George Throckmorton’s wife, Katherine Vaux, was related to the Parr family on her father’s side, the three sons benefited from that relationship, having court positions during Katherine Parr’s term as queen.108 Becon was in a location with far better connections to London than he was in the Peak Country. It was sometime between late 1545 and early 1546 that Becon, accompanied by Old, was reunited with his mentor, Hugh Latimer. They met at Baxterley Hall, the home of John Glover, in Atherstone where Latimer had been in hiding. He had been there since 1540 when he was forced to resign as Bishop of Worcester for preaching against the Six Articles of 1539 in the House of Lords.109 His niece, Mary, whom Latimer had raised as his own when her parents passed away when she was a girl, had married Robert Glover in 1545, a marriage arranged by Latimer.110 Robert’s older brother, John, was a wealthy man, possessing several properties including Baxterley Hall. Apparently, Robert and Mary had taken up residence at Baxterley while John was likely living in nearby Mancetter.111 Robert and Mary Glover, along with Robert’s two older married brothers, John and William, became influential leaders of the evangelical cause in Warwickshire, and eventually became the targets of Mary I’s purge of evangelicals. Robert was martyred in Coventry in 1555, the same year as Latimer’s martyrdom, while John 105 Christopher Dyer, ‘Warwickshire Farming, 1349–c.1520’ Dugdale Occasional Papers 27 (1981), p. 33. 106 Mark Knight, ‘Piety and devotion among the Warwickshire gentry, 1485–1547’, Dugdale Society Occasional Papers 32 (1989), pp. 1–2. 107 Peter Marshall, ‘Faith and Identity in a Warwickshire Family: the Throckmortons and the Reformation’, Dugdale Occasional Papers 49 (2010), pp. 9–10. 108 Marshall, ‘Faith and Identity’, p. 11. Stanford Lehmberg, ‘Nicholas Throckmorton’, ODNB (accessed 24 September 2014). 109 Chester, Hugh Latimer, p. 151; Susan Wabuda, ‘Hugh Latimer’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2014). 110 Susan Wabuda, ‘Robert Glover’, ODNB (accessed 18 April 2014). 111 Chester, Hugh Latimer, p. 156.

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died of the fever from hiding from the authorities in the woods. William presumably died of natural causes.112 Becon not only had an enriching time with Latimer, which ‘was to me no smal conforte’, but he also gained the acquaintance of other ‘men of worshyppe’ who were ‘well bent toward the holy scriptures, very godlye learned in the lawes of the most higheste, and professours of the same’.113 How long Becon and Old were at Baxterley is unclear, but this appears to have been an extended stay.114 During his time in Warwickshire, Becon ventured into Leicestershire for a visit to John Aylmer (1521/1522–1594), an evangelical from Tivetshall St Mary, Norfolk, which was approximately fifteen miles east of Becon’s native village of Thetford. The young Aylmer was residing in Bradgate, approximately twenty miles northeast of Atherstone, in the house of Henry Grey, third marquess of Dorset (1517–1554). Later, Dorset as the duke of Suffolk and a vital member of the Somerset administration would garner the praise of the evangelical establishment. Writing in 1554, the year of his execution for conspiring with Thomas Wyatt to thwart Mary I’s marriage with Philip of Spain, Becon saw Dorset’s death as ‘a manifest token of Gods heavy displeasure towarde us [the English people]’.115 Aylmer had been introduced to Dorset when he was a boy and Dorset agreed to underwrite the costs of his education at Queens’ College, Cambridge where he completed his BA in 1541. Upon Aylmer’s graduation with his MA from Cambridge in 1545, he went to Bradgate to work for his patron as a tutor to his three daughters, one of them being the eight-year-old Jane Grey (1537–1554) who was heavily influenced by Aylmer’s faith.116 Around the same time Aylmer also began corresponding with some of the continental reformers such as Bucer and Bullinger as Dorset’s secretary.117 Alymer also later enlisted the help of the young Jane to begin correspondence with Bullinger in 1551.118 In so doing, Aylmer along with other evangelicals, provided a crucial link to the continental reformers, which may explain, in part, the transmission of political and religious news to the English exiles on the Continent.119 Becon’s visit to the Grey household in Bradgate occurred most likely in 1546. Becon gave no account of the actual meeting or his time in Bradgate, but he

112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119

Wabuda, ‘Robert Glover’, ODNB. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sigs. D8v–E1r. Chester, Hugh Latimer, p. 156. Thomas Becon, A comfortable epistle, too Goddes faythfull people in Englande (Strasburgh, 1554) STC 1716, sig. A3r. Brett Usher, ‘John Aylmer’, ODNB (accessed 17 April 2014). Usher, ‘John Aylmer’, ODNB. Alison Plowden, ‘Lady Jane Grey’, ODNB (accessed 17 April 2014). Ryrie, Gospel and Henry VIII, pp. 99–101.

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recalled that he was duly impressed with Aylmer’s intellect, for he was ‘well learned both in the latine and greke tonge’.120 At some point in 1545, Old became a chaplain to Lord Ferrers of Chartley, who was Robert Glover’s employer, and Old was examined in Westminster on 10 July 1546 for his ‘light disposition concerning religion’. Old repented and ‘professed unfeignedly to receive the King’s doctrine’.121 Becon recounted that as he was carrying on with his quotidian tutoring responsibilities, he unexpectedly received letters from his ‘mooste deare’ mother requesting him to return to ‘my native contrey, and to be a staffe of hyr old age’.122 Having bid farewell to his friends in Warwickshire, he ‘with all haste repared home’ to his native Thetford most likely around the latter part of 1546.123 At the end of his retrospective account, Becon detailed his writing activities during his Midland wanderings.124 The publication date of Governaunce of vertue, a popular bestseller with around ten editions before 1611, has been disputed. Ryrie argues for a first edition in 1544 or 1545, observing correctly that the ‘1538’ publication date in STC 1724.5 is an error.125 I would argue, however, that it was probably published sometime between mid-1547 and the latter part of 1548. It seems unlikely that Becon would have published anything that bore his name within one or two years of his recantation. Besides, Becon himself stated that his five-year exile in the Midlands was a period of deliberate silence, which suggests a complete abandonment of writing. Nevertheless, the treatise became popular with six editions by 1560, and in Becon’s opinion in his 1560 edition, it ‘hath bene so greatly desired and greadely red almoste of all men as the often printinge of the boke doth right wel declare’.126 The 1547 edition of Invective is lost, but it was included in the second volume of Becon’s complete works in 1564.127 Newe dialog was a brief work for the Christmas season combining the genre of dialogue with poetic metre.128 In addition to these works, Becon referred to ‘the other’ that was

120 121 122 123 124 125

Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. D2v. LP XXI pt. I, no. 1246, p. 616 (10 July 1546). Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. E1v. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. E2r. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. E2v. Thomas Becon, The governaunce of vertue (Southwark: J. Nicholson, 1538?) STC 1724.5; Alec Ryrie, Being Protestant in Reformation Britain (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), p. 51, n.11. 126 Thomas Becon, The governaunce of vertue (London: John Day, 1560) STC 1726, Preface, sig. A8v. 127 Thomas Becon, The worckes of Thomas Becon (London: John Day, 1560–1564) STC 1710. 128 Thomas Becon, A newe dialog betwene thangell of God, & the shepherdes in the felde (London: John Day, 1547) STC 1733.5.

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to be published ‘at a convenient tyme’, a possible reference to either The castell of comforte or The physyke of the soule, both of which were published in 1549.129 Becon noted that there were also English translations of his ‘divers little treatises’ in Latin. Shelde of Salvation was Becon’s own title for a work by the German Lutheran reformer, Urbanus Rhegius (1489–1541), originally entitled Dialogus inter satanam et poenitentem peccatorem.130 It was originally published posthumously in 1545 in Frankfurt. Becon’s translation was published in 1548. His translation later appeared in the second volume of the 1564 compendium of his complete works under the title, The Dialoge betwene the Christen knyght and Satan. Also published in 1548, Solace of the soule was another translation of a work probably by another Continental reformer, though the original author has not been identified.131 Likewise, the author of Commendation of death remains a mystery, and the first edition of Becon’s translation is lost. Becon included his translation in his complete works of 1564 under the title, The prayse of death. These three translations with his two 1549 original treatises revealed Becon’s apparent interest at the time in consolation literature. In the case of Shelde of salvation, Becon’s continuing interest in the continental reformation and his affinity for Lutheranism was demonstrated.

Assessing the years of wandering How then should Becon’s ‘time to kepe scilence’ be assessed? First, his constant mobility within the Midlands necessitates an evaluation. While Becon never explicitly explained his frequent travels, the fact that he never remained in one location for more than one year suggests a strategy of treading cautiously and avoiding any entanglement with the authorities. Also, Becon undoubtedly was sensitive to the fact that to reside in one evangelical community for too long would have potentially incriminated his friends. The curious feature of his exilic movements was that he resided among rural communities where the residents would have immediately detected any stranger. Why would Becon put himself in a potentially dangerous position among these rural districts, liable to arrest again? Why did he not choose to go into exile on the Continent instead? Becon must have taken a calculated risk in these rural communities, entrusting himself 129 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. E2v. Thomas Becon, The castell of comforte (London: John Day, 1549) STC 1712; Thomas Becon, The physyke of the soule (London: T. Raynold and W. Hill, 1549) STC 1741. 130 Thomas Becon, The shelde of salvation (London: R. Wyer, 1548) STC 20851.5. For more on Urbanus Rhegius, see Scott H. Hendrix, ‘Urbanus Rhegius’, Oxford Encyclopedia of the Reformation (accessed 24 April 2014). 131 Thomas Becon, The solace of the soule (London: William Hill, 1548) STC 1774.

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to his evangelical friends and hoping that no one would report him to the authorities. These years of wandering were also vital to Becon’s spiritual health and clerical development. First, in light of his ‘exile and banishment’, Becon seems to have both benefited from and been affected by deep friendships. He viewed them as an integral part of his exile. His retrospective narrative of these years highlighted his friendships as necessary for spiritual comfort. For instance, what apparently perturbed him initially about his time of hiding in the Midlands was being driven away ‘from them [Kentish friends] to the greate and continual disturbaunce of my minde for lacking the company of so loving neighbours, and swete frendes’.132 It appears that the absence of his friends was tantamount to the disruption of his emotional stability. Solitude was bondage from which he sought his liberty. Becon described his relationships in exile, using biblical models and descriptive language. For Becon, Robert Wisdom was akin to the Apostle Paul’s close companion, Aristarchus, who was a fellow prisoner in Paul’s second imprisonment (Colossians 4:10).133 Becon’s models and allusions are striking in that he invoked contexts of incarceration. While not physically imprisoned, his descriptions indicated that he felt solitary and unfulfilled away from his clerical ministry. His friends were not only a means of comfort, but also provided a sense of fulfillment in the absence of his former clerical duties. John Old, likewise, was a ‘right herty frend, and dearly loving brother’.134 Later in the narrative when Old invited Becon to relocate with him to Warwickshire, Becon called Old ‘my moste swete and deare frende’.135 Becon evidently esteemed Old, having compared him to no less than three of the faithful companions of the Apostle Paul: Jason, Silas, and Onesiphorus. Again, these specifically chosen models of friendship from the New Testament have incarceration contexts and suggest that Becon held his friends to be divine comfort in his ‘prison’ of silence in the Midlands. These biblical models suggest at least two ideas. Jason and Silas suffered with Paul at the hands of the civil authorities, a fact that may imply that Old was also in hiding due to religious persecution. As those two biblical friends identified and empathised with Paul in his suffering, so too was Old a fellow sufferer with Becon. Second, while not incarcerated, Onesiphorus ‘refreshed’ Paul in prison and was ‘not ashamed of his [Paul’s] chains’, suggesting that Old’s friendship was likewise a reinvigorating force for Becon.136

132 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B2v. 133 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C5v. 134 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C6r. For more on Old, see Bradshaw, ‘John Old’, ODNB. Old’s life up to 1543 is obscure. 135 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. D2r. 136 2 Timothy 1:16

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Further, the idea of nourishment is prominent in Becon’s narrative, reiterating the concept of companionship and how it liberated him emotionally during this period. Becon, Wisdom, and Old enjoyed ‘refreshing our selves with the comforte of the holy scriptures, after so many grevous tempests, troublous stormes, and painful labours’.137 The language seems to indicate a mutual bond shared among the three given their flight from religious persecution. Becon also noted that he was devastated when Wisdom had to relocate, which was ‘no smal paine or griefe’, and it transpired ‘not without teares’.138 During his residence in Warwickshire with Old, Becon was so enraptured with the fellowship with his new friends that he ebulliently remarked, ‘me thought I was cleane delivered from Egipt and quietly placed in the new glorious Jerusalem…so swete a thyng is it to be in the company of Godly learned men’.139 As the biblical Egypt represented slavery and incarceration in a foreign land, so this period of hiding was Becon’s spiritual Egypt. This biblical image captured the idea effectively that friendship with ‘godly company’ was a release from Becon’s bondage of solitude in his Midlands exile and a transport to a spiritual paradise. Another indication of Becon’s closeness with Wisdom was the inclusion of a benediction in the narrative for Wisdom at his departure, the only such one of the recorded departures during this period. The content is reminiscent of Paul’s farewell to the Ephesian elders recorded in Acts 20. Becon and Wisdom ‘submitted ourselves to the good plesure of God’, realising that Wisdom’s departure would result in ‘the avauncement of gods glory’ and ‘no small commoditie to the christen publique weale’.140 They parted ways ‘wishing repentaunce of oure former life, strength of faith and perseveraunce in al godlines to our last end’.141 The benediction was both a reminder of God’s greater purposes and blessings in spite of separation. It aptly illustrated that the bond of friendship was to continue eternally, even if they were never reunited on earth. Not only did Becon experience spiritual consolation through his friendships during these years of silence, but he also gained informal clerical experience through his keen observations of the religious climate of the region in which he was residing. His analysis was generally pessimistic, yet tinged with some hope that the new Edwardian regime would rectify the alarming religious situation in the rural counties. As already stated, he lamented over the spiritual condition of the clergy in the Midlands. With prophetic force, he compared them to the false prophets in Ezekiel’s day. Becon blamed the curse of ‘unlearned pastours’ on the presence of ‘papistrie’ not only in Derbyshire, but also throughout the realm of 137 138 139 140 141

Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C6v. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C7r. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. E1v. For the concept of ‘christen publique weal’ see Chapter 4. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. C6v.

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England.142 In Staffordshire, the clerics were ‘unlearned and more mete to be taught then [sic] to teach’.143 The priests were ‘unlearned asses’.144 He was perturbed by ‘the childish ignorance’ of priests that ‘it wold make your hert to blede for to consider that such blind curates should have the oversight and charg of Christes congregation’.145 His solution to this spiritual disaster was ‘that the church of Christ mai be purged of such unprofitable cloddes of the earth’.146

Conclusion Becon’s years of silence raise many unanswered questions and pose some potential problems. Whatever his true motives were for being silent, Becon rebounded from his exilic experience and returned to his writing. Becon’s critical observations on the religious state of the rural communities in the Midlands served as the basis for his push for radical clerical reforms during the Edwardian years. Furthermore, these observations in the mid-1540s were crucial to Becon’s thinking and his ideal of a state-church. They would become the stimuli for Becon to drive ecclesiastical and clerical reform in England when he himself would have oversight and influence. But another transformation was about to occur in Becon’s career. With his return to the ministry, he became much more interested in areas outside theology. His active involvement in social reform, specifically, charity relief represents a drastic shift in his career and perhaps points to a new phase of thinking born out of his exilic experience. The evolving concept of a ‘christen common weale’ was about to find full expression and embodiment in his Edwardian career.

142 143 144 145 146

Becon, Iewel of Becon, Iewel of Becon, Iewel of Becon, Iewel of Becon, Iewel of

ioye, sig. C4v. ioye, sigs. C8v–D1r. ioye, sig. D1r. ioye, sig. C8v. ioye, sig. C8v.

Chapter 3. Thomas Becon and his ‘Christen common weale’: clerical reform and charity

With the dawning of a new era for England brought on by the ascension of Edward VI to the throne, Becon’s ‘silent years’ ended. Becon’s Edwardian writings demonstrated both continuities and ruptures from his Henrician writings. His concept of a ‘Christen publique weale’ found full expression in his Edwardian works. But while there were traces of cautious optimism in his Henrician writings, the general flavour of Becon’s social commentary during the Edwardian era was decidedly pessimistic. This pessimism was linked to the social issues that embroiled London in the late 1540s, issues which he addressed in his tracts. While social concerns did appear in his Henrician tracts, his Edwardian works focus on themes such as poverty, poor relief, vagrancy, and inflation to an even greater degree. Becon’s belief in a godly commonwealth informed his thinking in regards to social critique and demands for reform. This chapter will explore his attempt to sell his model of an English ‘common wealth’ to his readers. Further, this chapter will argue that his views on worship and poor relief must be understood within the context of his understanding of ‘common wealth’. This chapter will first establish Becon’s context in London as both rector of St Stephen Walbrook and chaplain to Somerset. His geographical, social, and ministerial contexts will be explored in order to evaluate his commonwealth ideology. This discussion will contribute to recent scholarship on commonwealth rhetoric and political theology in sixteenth and seventeenth century literature.1 While there is a substantial amount of literature on the commonwealth men in 1 Ben Lowe, Commonwealth and the English Reformation (Aldershot, 2010); Phil Withington, Society in Early Modern England (Cambridge, 2010); Ethan H. Shagan, ‘Clement Armstrong and the godly commonwealth’ in Peter Marshall and Alex Ryrie (eds), The Beginnings of English Protestantism (Cambridge, 2002); Craig Muldrew, ‘From Commonwealth to Public Opulence’ in Steve Hindle, Alexandra Shepard, and John Walker (eds), Remaking English Society, (Woodbridge, 2013); Ryan M. Reeves, English Evangelicals and Tudor Obedience, c. 1527–1570 (Leiden, 2014); Stephen A. Chavura, Tudor Protestant Political Thought 1547–1603 (Leiden, 2011); John Watts, ‘‘Common Weal’ and ‘Commonwealth’: England’s Monarchical Republic in the Making, c. 1450–c.1530’ in A. Gamberini, et al. (ed), The Languages of Political Society (Rome, 2011).

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Somerset’s regime, the absence of any discussion of commonwealth rhetoric during Northumberland’s protectorate is striking. For example, in his treatment of Tudor obedience and political theology among the evangelicals, Ryan Reeves entirely avoids any discussion of Northumberland, moving directly from Somerset to Mary’s reign.2 Susan Brigden does a similar thing.3 This omission is both peculiar and troubling. It is indicative that this subject needs further investigation. I will consider and explore that overlooked period in the following chapter. While political theology in Tudor England has been discussed at great length in scholarship, the evangelicals’ use of commonwealth rhetoric has generally been overlooked. This chapter will evaluate the commonwealth ideology of the evangelicals and the ways in which they mixed their theology with their commonwealth rhetoric. I will explore the two issues which Becon addressed more than any other subject. Becon’s views of worship and poor relief during this period must be understood within his ‘publique weale’ framework. While his views of poor relief were generally typical of evangelicals of his day, his beliefs about worship sometimes differed significantly from those of his counterparts, including his mentor Thomas Cranmer. Becon’s focus on social justice and moral virtue, themes clearly associated with commonwealth rhetoric, was not atypical for Edwardian evangelicals during this period. Becon, however, more than any other evangelical, addressed the socio-political issues of his day with a mixture of civic humanism and evangelical theology. His writings reveal the tensions of obedience to the crown on the one hand and religious freedom on the other. He envisioned a Christian commonwealth based upon the Old Testament model of a ‘godly’ people under a ‘godly’ king, both of which were bound to the Mosaic Law. While typical of the evangelicals in his understanding of divine, Becon’s voice was distinct in its urgent tone, cajoling and even threatening his readers to obey Edward’s reforms. While there is a sense that he was generally content with the progress of reform, Becon occasionally expressed his ire that reform was far from complete. It is within this intricate political, social, and religious context that Becon returned from exile and became a prophetic voice for social justice and virtue.

2 Reeves, English Evangelicals, pp. 123–129. This absence is even more peculiar given that his chapter title includes ‘1547–1553’. 3 Susan Brigden, London and the Reformation (Oxford, 1986).

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Edwardian reformation and Becon’s restoration The death of Henry VIII on 28 January 1547 ushered in a new era for the evangelicals. With Edward VI in power, the exiled evangelicals returned to England and began supporting the king’s ‘godly’ reforms. Becon, after five years of domestic exile, finally broke his silence. At the time of Henry’s death, Becon was in Thetford caring for his ill mother at ‘the manifest commaundement of God’, a reference to the Fifth Commandment to honor one’s parents and an example of Becon’s interest in protecting his image.4 In his return to public life, Becon made a concerted effort to protect his image, given that he chose exile and silence. Consequently, there are sections in the Philemon dialogue that demonstrate a painstaking public relations attempt to save face. This was necessary for Becon to defend his exile as legitimate. Thus, many passages of Becon’s Iewel of ioye were a means of shaping his readers’ perception of Becon. The intent of these sections was to model what his readers’ reactions to Becon’s exile should be. For instance, Philemon’s friends responded favourably to his return from exile. Instead of rebuking Philemon for his five-year silence, Christopher welcomed him as one would welcome a hero back home: ‘Your reparing into this countrie, your sight, your company, your talke hath even nowe soddenly so revived us, that we seme to have put on a certain kind of immortalitie’.5 And Theophile affirmed God’s approval in protecting Philemon in exile, reiterating the idea that providence was tantamount to God’s will: ‘We magnifye God moste hertely that he by hys holy Angell hath safe conduite you in al youre wayes, preserved you in health, gotten you deare frends and nowe at the laste, broughte you home agayne into your natyve countrie’.6 As demonstrated in Chapter 3, guidance, preservation, and friendship were all signs for Becon that God approved of his domestic exile. Becon moved to London either in February or March of 1547 and began working under Edward Seymour, Protector Somerset. Through his mother, Margery Wentworth, Somerset was a cousin of Thomas, Baron Wentworth, Becon’s patron from his days in Ipswich.7 In addition to the Wentworth connection, Becon’s friendship with the Grey family of Bradgate would have provided him with a direct link to Somerset. Sometime in 1547, Somerset appointed Becon as his household chaplain.8 Presumably as an expression of his gratitude for and friendship with Somerset, Becon dedicated his 1550 edition of Governaunce of vertue to the nine-year-old Lady Jane Seymour (1541–1561), daughter of Som4 Exodus 20:12. Thomas Becon, The iewel of ioye (London: J. Day and W. Seres, 1550) STC 1733, sig. E2r. 5 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B3v. 6 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. E2v. 7 Barrett L. Beer, ‘Edward Seymour’, ODNB (accessed 23 April 2014). 8 Beer, ‘Edward Seymour’, ODNB.

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erset as Becon clearly noted on the dedicatory page, and not Jane Seymour (d. 1537) the third wife of Henry VIII and mother of Edward VI as Stephen A. Chavura erroneously states.9 Becon also dedicated his popular The flour of godly praiers to Somerset’s wife, Anne Seymour.10 Becon apparently was very close to Somerset and held him in high esteem, judging from his 1554 retrospective commentary on Somerset’s fall and his preface to Somerset’s wife.11 While most evangelicals were quick to claim Somerset as one of them, there have been some recent doubts about his own personal piety.12 During the period of his fall in 1549, Somerset composed a tract for his own ‘consolacyon and ayde in all maner of afflyccyons’. Within it he included a prayer, ‘an humble petycyon to the Lord’ composed by Becon.13 By July 1547 Becon was licensed to preach by the Crown.14 He was appointed as rector of the illustrious St Stephen Walbrook parish in London on 24 March 1547.15 St Stephen was one of six parishes in the Walbrook ward located in a busy and crowded district of London. So populated was this area of London that even churchyards became overcrowded, leading to unsanitary conditions.16 St Stephen was adjacent to the Stocks Market and across from the parish of St Mary Woolchurch just along the east bank of the River Walbrook and north of the River Thames. Founded in 1282, the Stocks Market was a bustling place for buying and selling wares. It was especially popular with fishmongers and the Market was well known for its fresh fish.17 The district was also the home to some prominent grocers and druggists.18 9 Thomas Becon, The governaunce of vertue (London: John Day, 1550) STC 1725.7; Becon, Governaunce of vertue, Preface, sig. A2v; Jennifer Loach, Edward VI (New Haven, 1999), p. 43; Chavura, Tudor Protestant Political Thought, p. 48. Becon’s 1550 edition only exists as a fragment, so it is assumed that the dedication was to Lady Jane Seymour, since the 1549 edition does not bear her name, while the 1560 and 1566 editions do. It is clear, however, based on references in Becon’s preface that her father was still living at the time of the original dedication, which would set the original writing before 1552, the year of Somerset’s death. See Becon, Governaunce of vertue, sig. A8v. 10 Thomas Becon, The flour of godly praiers (London: John Day, 1550), STC 1719.5. Three subsequent editions followed with two in 1551 and one in 1560. 11 Becon, Comfortable epistle, sig. A3r; Becon, Flour of godly praiers, Preface, sig. A5r. 12 Loach, Edward VI, pp. 42–43; John Ponet, A shorte treatise of politike power (Strasburgh, 1556) STC 20178, sig. I3r; John Hooper, A declaration of Christe and of his offyce compylyd (Zurich: Augustyne Fries, 1547) STC 13745, sig. A3r. 13 [Edward, duke of Somerset], A spyrytuall and moost precyouse pearle (London: S. Mierdman, 1550) STC 25255, sigs. A4r–v. 14 TNA, SP 10/2f.116. 15 Henry Benjamin Wheatley and Peter Cunningham, London Past and Present, Vol. 3 (Cambridge, 2011), p. 311. 16 White, History, pp. 12–13. 17 ‘The subsidies and the London population: Wards and occupations’, in Eilert Ekwall (ed), Two Early London Subsidy Rolls ([s.n.], 1951), pp. 81–87. 18 J. G. White, History of the ward of Walbrook in the city of London (London, 1904), p. 14.

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Becon’s nomination to the rectorship at St Stephen was submitted by the Grocers’ Company in London, an organisation that had many evangelicals within its membership since the 1520s.19 Founded on 9 May 1345, the Company by the early sixteenth century had close spiritual ties to the London community, having employed two chantry priests and six obits.20 Around the same time it became connected to the rectorships of St Stephen and All Hallows Honey Lane. Another connection of Becon’s within the Company was the printer of his tracts from the early 1540s, John Mayler. Mayler was arrested on 8 April 1543 along with the previously mentioned Richard Kele for his evangelical views and did not produce any evangelical literature after his release.21 The Company had demonstrated a pattern of sympathising with evangelicals, and this worked in Becon’s favour with his appointment to St Stephen. When Becon commenced his rectorship at St Stephen there were around 250 communicants and by 1554 there were 400.22 Becon’s salary was £17 10s per annum.23 These figures were comparable to the other parish of which the Grocers’ Company had the advowson, All Hallows Honey Lane. Thomas Paynell, the rector, was paid £19 10s 8d per annum in 1548, and was ministering to 150 communicants. These salaries were on the higher end of the salary range for rectors of similar sized parishes in London. As would be expected, the rectorships of parishes with more communicants included larger salaries. Unlike his years in the Midlands, Becon did not chronicle his personal activities during Edward’s reign. This would naturally suggest that he was intensely occupied and engaged in his clerical and familial duties. Sometime around the late 1540s, he married Elizabeth Godfrey, though Becon never mentioned her in his writings. Presumably, his writing and preaching schedule consumed most of his time. In The flour of godly praiers, Becon summarised his activities during this period, indicating a hectic life: ‘I may be able to doo good to my countrye by prayinge, preachynge and wryghtynge’.24 As an evangelical commonwealth writer, Becon defended the evangelicals and rebuked those who resisted Edward’s reforms. The year of 1549 began with the simmering of instability on the horizon. Those portentous sentiments broke out 19 Joseph P. Ward, Metropolitan Communities: Trade Guilds, Identity, and Change in Early Modern London (Stanford, 1997), p. 104. 20 Ward, Metropolitan Communities, p. 101. 21 Duff, Century of the English Book Trade, p. 102. Ironically, Mayler was the printer of one of the editions of [Henry VIII], A necessary doctrine and erudition for any christen man (London: John Mayler, 1543) STC 5175. 22 ‘Chantry Certificate, 1548: City of London’, London and Middlesex Chantry Certificate 1548: London Record Society 16 (1980), pp. 1–60; Susan Brigden, London and the Reformation, p. 572. 23 ‘Chantry Certificate, 1548: City of London’, pp. 1–60. 24 Becon, Flour of godly praiers, Preface, sig. 13v.

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in outright rebellion, primarily in three counties in the summer of 1549. The ‘Prayer Book’ rebellions in Devon and Cornwall, where conservative religious resistance was strong, was a reaction to the religious reforms implemented by Somerset in the Act of Uniformity of 1549.25 The causes of Kett’s Rebellion at Mousehold Heath, Norfolk were of an entirely different nature. The Mousehold articles produced by the rebels revealed resentment at the local gentry for their perceived abuse of authority in governing as well as the increase of land prices.26 Becon defended the evangelicals in Devon and his native Norfolk who were accused of being the instigators of the uprisings in June. Becon argued that ‘the godly preachers [are] fre[e] from gevinge any occasion of that sedicio[n]’.27 Somerset and the council viewed the Norfolk rebels as ‘a more pernicious sort showing the fruit of rebellion, spoil, robbery, filthiness and the destruction of themselves and their prince’.28 They ordered Bishop Bonner of London, supposedly as a test to his loyalty to the Crown, to address this issue in his next sermon and to teach that ‘God has showed how much he is displeased by rebellion’ in the king’s victory over the rebels.29 Meantime, Becon continued his ministerial activities at St Stephen and composed two more tracts after 1550.

Becon and the ‘common weale’ Becon’s use of commonwealth rhetoric must be considered in the context of other commonwealth writers. References to ‘common weale’ and its companion terms became more frequent beginning in the 1540s.30 Becon’s recurrent use of commonwealth vocabulary placed him as a leader among the evangelical commonwealth movement, a fact that Phil Withington points out by acknowledging that Becon’s New Pollecye of War (1542) was the first text apart from statutebooks to use commonwealth vocabulary on its title page.31 What Withington does not mention is that Becon used all three synonyms for ‘commonwealth’ in the body of his tract: ‘common weale’, ‘publique weale’, and ‘common wealth’, for a total of over 30 times. Becon’s references to ‘common weale’ overwhelmingly 25 MacCulloch, Tudor Church Militant (London, 1999), p. 44. 26 Loach, Edward VI, pp. 78–79; Diarmaid MacCulloch, Suffolk and the Tudors: Politics and Religion in an English County, 1500–1600 (Oxford, 1986), pp. 75–77 argues that the lack of strong authority with the fall of Thomas Howard, duke of Norfolk in 1546, caused a power vacuum in Norfolk and, consequently, social unrest. 27 Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. D2v. 28 TNA, SP 10/8f.67. 29 TNA, SP 10/8f.67. 30 Phil Withington, Society in Early Modern England (Cambridge, 2010), p. 146 31 Withington, Society in Early Modern England, p. 147. Becon’s subtitle included ‘Christen publique weale’.

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dominated other evangelical writers in both the Henrician and Edwardian periods. Other evangelicals who sparingly use the term include Thomas Cranmer, Robert Crowley, George Joye, and Hugh Latimer, each of them referring to ‘common weale’ less than five times. It is important to note that all these usages occurred during the Somerset era. One predominant feature of evangelical commonwealth literature was the propensity to draw heavily from the Old Testament. Commonwealth evangelicals frequently cited biblical examples and utilised metaphors from Exodus, Deuteronomy, and the four Books of the Kings. While I have counted more New Testament references in Becon’s writings from this period, there was an overall decline in his usage of the New Testament. These same trends were also present in the literature of other evangelicals during this period. The appeal of the Old Testament was almost ubiquitous among the evangelicals. The messages of social justice, poor relief, godly monarchy, and morality resonated with the evangelicals’ commitment to Christian humanism and became qualities that defined their concept of a ‘godly’ commonwealth. The evangelicals applied the Old Testament to England’s social issues and ultimately used it to shape their own brand of ‘Christian commonwealth’. In order to assess Becon’s commonwealth rhetoric and how he understood ‘common weale’, a discussion of his understanding of the key terms associated with commonwealth rhetoric is necessary [see Figure 3.1]. Initially, Becon’s preferred term in describing the commonwealth was ‘publique weale’. Occurring over 40 times in his Henrician writings, about half of those occurrences appeared in New pollecy of warre, a treatise warning against and condemning the advancing ‘cruel tyrant the Great Turk’. In his Edwardian works, however, ‘publique weale’ and ‘common weale’ were almost equally distributed in their usage. ‘Common wealth’ was used less than ten times in his Edwardian writings and only a couple of times in his Henrician treatises. Becon’s use of specific commonwealth terminology corresponded with the trends of other commonwealth writers. Phil Withington has argued that ‘common weale’ was the predominant term used in commonwealth rhetoric in the 1540s. However, in the 1550s ‘publique weale’ became the primary term for the commonwealth.32 He bases his argument on the fact that commonwealth tract titles in the 1540s contained ‘common weale’ while in the 1550s titles more often used ‘publique weale’. However, tract titles alone do not speak the entire story. Becon’s use of ‘publique weale’ as his preferred term in the early 1540s, for instance, shows the flexibility of commonwealth writers in using terms interchangeably.

32 Withington, Society in Early Modern England, p. 146.

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Figure 3.1 Becon’s Commonwealth Rhetoric Becon’s Term ‘common weale’

Occurrences in Becon’s Occurrences in Becon’s Edwardian works Henrician works 26 20

‘publique weale’

43

16

‘common wealth’

3

8

Becon’s understanding of both ‘common weale’ and ‘publique weale’ in his Henrician tracts was a society governed by moral order and virtue. God entrusted subjects of the commonwealth with duties, and those duties were to be performed for the good and prosperity of the commonwealth. For both ‘common weale’ and ‘publique weale’, Becon stressed the government’s crucial role in maintaining stability.33 Becon’s depiction of the ideal ‘publique weale’ in his earliest tracts were accompanied by a catenae of citations from humanist, classical texts, particularly those by Greek and Latin authors. Becon implemented quotations from Phocylides, Aristotle, Plutarch, Tibellus, and Cicero in his works from the early 1540s. His use of classical sources was primarily focused on the importance of virtue in a ‘publique weale’. For instance, he cited Cicero in denouncing the use of corrupt speech in the English ‘publique weale’, particularly perjury.34 In another instance, Becon appealed to both Aristotle and Plutarch in arguing for the necessity of personal perseverance.35 Evangelicals such as Bale, Coverdale, Gilby, Hooper, Joye, and Latimer, likewise, incorporated similar classical sources, demonstrating a commitment to humanism and its application to a godly ‘publique weale’ vis-à-vis language on moral virtue. Becon’s writings on ‘publique weale’ during the Somerset era advocated a strong, monarchical government in making reforms. Implicit in Becon’s defense of Edward’s authority was his political theology dating back to his Henrician writings. His staunch defense of Edward’s and Somerset’s authority was not out of mere political convenience, for he was a strong proponent of it during the most turbulent times for the evangelicals under Henry. Ryan Reeves has argued that the English evangelicals between 1540 and 1547 experienced suffering and martyrdom, and it was this reality that rekindled their commitment to remain steadfast in obedience to a king who was becoming increasingly hostile to the 33 Thomas Becon, A pleasaunt newe nosegaye, (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1742, sigs. H8r–v. 34 Thomas Becon, An invectyve agenst the moost wicked detestable vyce of swearing (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1543) STC 1730.5, sig. H5r. 35 Thomas Becon, A potacio[n] or dri[n]kynge for this holi time of le[n]t (London: J. Mayler for J. Gough, 1542) STC 1749, sig. I8v.

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evangelicals.36 Stressing obedience to Henry in writing was, in part, a reinforcement of the evangelicals’ belief that submitting to God in suffering was a test of their obedience to the king whom He appointed. Reeves has argued that there was no room for a resistance theory in the evangelicals’ political theology, because suffering at the hands of earthly powers was considered the ultimate display of submission to the king, and by extension, to God.37 While that argument is generally true, it is not precisely accurate in Becon’s situation as will be discussed later in this study. It was true at this point of Becon’s career that any hint of political resistance was unacceptable. Becon’s language in 1542 was unmistakably clear in its resolve to honor the king with the accompanying exhortations to not resist him. He held that all kings were God’s ‘vicars’ and ‘ministers’.38 No one was exempt from obedience including the clergy and the pope.39 The logical consequence of this political theology was complete allegiance and obedience to the king. Obedience, Becon averred, was a critical component of the stability of a commonwealth. Quoting from Augustine, he declared that ‘who soever wyl not obey the lawes of the temporal governours, which are made for the establyshement of Goddes truethe, he getteth greate damnacion’.40 Ironically, this statement was written in 1542 during his Kentish exile. Despite his differences with Henry, Becon’s Henrician writings were replete with praise for the king and admonitions to his readers to obey and honor him. To an even greater frequency these approbations and instructions to obey permeated his Edwardian writings. The difference between his Henrician and Edwardian writings was not only the frequency of the exhortations to obey the king, but the urgency of tone coupled with the length of his proofs in defending the godly rule of Edward. Yet, Becon himself would introduce the idea of ‘sedicion’ and ‘rayling’ in his late Edwardian and early Elizabethan tracts. While far from actual political resistance, Becon would eventually start to question, confront, and criticise magistrates including the monarch, something he would never condone in the 1540s. This trend will be considered in Chapters 5 and 7. Writing in late 1549, Becon urged people in light of the rebellions of 1549 to ‘feare the hye powers, to honoure and obey them, and by no meanes to resiste them’.41 Both Bale and Hooper, proponents of godly rulership, likewise urged the people to obey their king. Hooper applied the Fifth Commandment to man’s duty to honour kings, tutors, and ministers, because they were all parental figures, representing God and possessing His divine authority. This interpretation led 36 37 38 39 40 41

Reeves, English Evangelicals, p. 62. Reeves, English Evangelicals, pp. 62–75. Becon, Pleasaunt newe nosegaye sigs. I1v, G6r–G8r Becon, Pleasaunt newe nosegaye sig. I3v. Becon, Pleasaunt newe nosegaye sig. I3r. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. C7r.

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Hooper to use the parent-child metaphor in describing the relationship between the king and his subjects, a metaphor that Becon used later in 1553.42 Obedience to kings were to be taken seriously by subjects because kings were ‘Godes Vycars to execuet his lawe, his will, his pleasure, to bring men to god’.43 Hooper also argued from Romans 13 that ‘unto the whiche superiour poures: we owe all obedience boothe of body and goddess [sic]’.44 Hooper contended that obedience to even young kings was paramount, for ‘he [God] was present to helpe yonge kinges, and to defende them in theyr under age’.45 Latimer exhorted his readers to ‘pray thou for thy kyng and pay him hys dutye, and dysobeye hym not’.46 John Champneys highlighted the commonwealth’s ‘moste bounde duty’ to pray to God on behalf of Edward.47 Becon submitted a model prayer for the king: ‘behold Edward thi servant oure king and governor, and to breath into his hert thorow thi holi spirit, that wisdom’.48 Yet another way in which subjects were to fulfill their duty to their king was through paying taxes. Latimer, using Christ’s instructions in Matthew 22, exhorted his parishioners to ‘gyve to your Ceaser to youre kynge, to oure mooste noble kinge Edwarde oure Ceaser, oure kinge and Magystrate appointed, and geven to us of God, geve to hym that whych is due to hym’.49 These obligations were applied to all subjects of the king, including the clergy, and were to be strictly observed. Although their frequency varied, there was no distinction of meaning in Becon’s uses of ‘common weale’ and ‘publique weale’. He used both terms interchangeably in his Henrician and Edwardian writings. Akin to ‘publique weale’ was ‘Christen publique weale’. Becon was unique among the evangelicals in using the phrase, ‘Christen publique weale’, occurring in both his Henrician and Edwardian works around a total of twenty times. ‘Christen common weale’, a synonym of ‘Christen publique weale’, occurred only once.50 Becon used the terms ‘Christen publique weale’ and ‘publique weale’ very similarly, but he nuanced them slightly differently. One way in which Becon used ‘Christen publique weale’ was in highlighting the specific duties of Christians for the ad42 John Hooper, A declaration of the ten holy co[m]maundementes of allmygthye God (Zurich: Augustin Fries, 1549) STC 13746, sigs. K3r–v; Becon, Principles, sig. K6r. 43 Hooper, Declaration of the ten holy co[m]maundementes, sig. K4v. 44 Hooper, Declaration of the ten holy co[m]maundementes, sig. C2v. 45 John Hooper, [Godly and most necessary annotations in ye xiij chapyter too the Romaynes] (Worceter: J. Oswen, 1551) STC 13756, sig. B3v. 46 Hugh Latimer, A sermon of Master Latimer, preached at Stamford (London: John Day, 1550) STC 15293, sig. E2v. 47 John Champneys, The harvest is at hand (London: Humpfrey Powell, 1548) STC 4956, sigs. A6v–A7r. 48 Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. C7v. 49 Latimer, Sermon of Master Latimer, sigs. D5v–D6r. 50 Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. E4v.

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vancement of both the church and England. Among those duties, Becon listed godliness, ‘godly’ learning, and virtue.51 But Becon primarily understood and used ‘Christen publique weale’ to refer to the Christian community at large, the one invisible church, both in England and abroad. However, Becon tended to mix his idea of ‘Christen publique weale’ with that of ‘publique weale’. Therefore, on another level, Becon understood ‘Christen publique weale’ as the Christian commonwealth of England. Nearly all of Becon’s uses of ‘Christen publique weale’ were in contexts in which the ‘invisible church’ or the Christian commonwealth of England was contrasted with the Catholic church. A recurrent theme in Becon’s ‘Christen publique weale’ rhetoric was a plea for Christian England to be ‘restored to her olde amiable beauty and glorious pleasaunce’.52 He longed for the day when ‘all thinges in the Christen publique weale, both in this and in other foren Realmes mighte be instituted, ordered and appoynted, accordinge to the veritie of Christes moste blessed Gospell’.53 This restoration motif continued into his Edwardian writings and indicates that Becon was not yet content with the current state of the Church in 1549.54 The remainder of the chapter will consider what changes Becon’s ‘common wealth’ required in the clergy and laity.

‘Deliver thy people out of Egypte’: Polemic and clerical reform Becon seems to have had mixed feelings about the progress of reforms during this period. First, he was delighted with Edward’s reforms. In his predictable hyperbolic style, Becon listed no less than 59 ‘trifling tradicions and dyrty deceyts’ of antichrist, the Catholic church that were ‘utterly banished and dryven oute of thys lande’.55 This list of Catholic practices and church items was not composed in any deliberate organisation or scheme, yet there were some items that were naturally paired together such as ‘oyle’ and ‘creame’ or ‘pardons’ and dispensacions’ [see Figure 3.2]. One striking feature about the list is the triple occurrence of terms related to idolatry: ‘idolatrye’, ‘God makynge’, and ‘idols’, all three synonyms appearing in no intentional order.56 Rather than being a statement urging Edward on in his reforms, it appears to be an assertion of reality and approval. Imme51 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. B2r; Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. E1v. 52 Thomas Becon, A newe pathway unto praier (London: John Mayler, 1542) STC 1734, sig. A8r– v. 53 Thomas Becon, The castell of comforte (London: John Day, 1549) STC 1712, sigs. A4r–v. 54 Becon, Castell of comforte (London: John Day, sigs. A4r–v; Becon, Flour of godly praiers, Preface, 4v. 55 Becon, Flour of godly praiers, Preface, sigs. 4r–v. 56 Numbers 31, 46, and 53 on the list, respectively.

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diately following the list of ‘trifling tradicions’ is a shorter list of 11 ‘godly treasures’ which have ‘entred in amonge us in steade of these outragyous pestylences [‘trifling tradicions’] of the Christen publique weale’ [see Figure 3.3]. However, Becon’s prayer for Edward shortly after these two lists suggests that he believed the reforms were incomplete. He prayed that Edward would continue to ‘banysh Idolatrye, supersticion and hipocrisye oute of this hys realme’.57 Other than this statement in his prayer, Becon did not refer to the iconoclasm again in his Edwardian writings. As opinionated as Becon was, it is significant that Becon never elaborated upon iconoclasm in his Edwardian writings, while some of his contemporaries were vocal about their desire for an entire eradication of all imagery. The absence of further appeals in Becon’s works for the further destruction of Catholic imagery is striking in light of Becon’s own personal experience with iconoclasm during his time in Ipswich in the late 1530s and the relative lack of links to the Injunctions. Figure 3.2 Becon’s 59 ‘trifling tradicions’ in Flour of godly praiers (1550), Preface, sigs. 4r–v. ‘Trifling tradicion’

Related Edwardian injunctions prohibiting it (1547)

1. ceremonies 2. religious monsignors 3. invocacion of saints 4. gaddyng on Pilgrimages

1, 3, 28

5. gilding of Images

29

6. painting of tabernacles 7. setting up of candles before stockes 8. purgotory 9. Masses of Scalecely 10. Bulles 11. Pardons 12. dispensacions 13. Jubilies 14. iustificacion of works 15. selling of merites 16. canonising of Saints 17. Diriges 57 Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. C8r.

‘Deliver thy people out of Egypte’: Polemic and clerical reform

Figure 3.2 (Continued) ‘Trifling tradicion’

Related Edwardian injunctions prohibiting it (1547)

18. Trentals 19. blasphemous masses

29 ‘Ordering Arrest of Persons Spreading Seditious Rumors’, 30 October 1549

20. Idolatrous altares 21. confession 22. hussel in one kynde for the laye 23. holye breade 24. holye water 25. oyle 26. creame 27. waxe

3

28. flaxe 29. Palmes 30. Ashes 31. Idolatrye

1, 3

32. Hipocrisy

1

33. Candel styckes

2, 3, 28, 29

34. relykes

1

35. Corporalle 36. Portasse 37. shepehooke 38. maiseboke 39. Crosure 40. Mitoure 41. sensynge 42. Popyshe fastynge 43. shavynge 44. greasynge 45. sacrifycynge 46. God makynge 47. transubstanciacion 48. excommunicacyon 49. unchaste vowes

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Figure 3.2 (Continued) ‘Trifling tradicion’ 50. halowed bowes 51. Beades

Related Edwardian injunctions prohibiting it (1547) 2

52. vestementes 53. Idols

1

54. Romyshe servise

‘Ordering Arrest of Persons Spreading Seditious Rumors’, 30 October 1549

55. Antichristian orders 56. Peterpens 57. frankensence 58. primary 59. pelting pedlary Figure 3.3 Becon’s 11 ‘godly treasures’ ‘godly treasure’

Related Edwardian injunctions promoting it (1547)

1. gloryous lyghte of Christes Gospell 2. true knowledge of God 3. ryghte worshyppynge of God 4. harty callynge on the name of the Lorde 5. iustificacion of faythe 6. hope of havynge remyssyon of syns in Christes bloud 7. godly and christen workes

2

8. sincere preachynge of gods blessed word 9. true ministracion of the holy Sacramentes 10. readynge of the sacred Scryptures in oure owne English toung 11. knowledge of our duty towarde the Kynges Magestye and all hye powers

7

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In 1549, Calvin comforted Somerset in light of the Protector’s political troubles and exhorted him to finish his ‘incomplete reformation’.58 He specifically charged Somerset to purge three areas of worship in order to complete his reforms: prayers for the dead, the ‘Lord’s Supper’ and ‘ceremonies of cream and extreme unction’. Of these three areas of concern for Calvin, Becon expressed similar sentiments toward what he felt was a lack of full reform in the Eucharist. Diarmaid MacCulloch has argued that the Somerset regime intentionally avoided any debate and discussion of the Eucharist until the autumn of 1548 due to its divisive nature.59 During those debates, Cranmer argued for the separate distinctions of the spiritual and physical body of Christ.60 Yet Cranmer also held to the corporeal presence of Christ, a belief that troubled some evangelicals including Martin Bucer. Bucer shared his concerns with Cranmer and suggested some revisions in the Book of Common Prayer that would eliminate some of the subtle references to Christ’s corporeal presence in the Eucharist. But Cranmer ignored those suggestions.61 The evangelicals were not opposed to the sacrament of the mass per se, but they did object to the Catholic practice of it. In a lengthy section of Iewel of ioye, Becon articulated his views of the Lord’s Supper.62 By using the rhetorical device of point-by-point contrasts, he listed a series of aspects of the Lord’s Supper and contrasted the Lord’s Supper with the ‘papistes mass’. What is striking about this is his terminology. Becon deliberately interacted with the specific wording of the 1549 Prayer Book [see Figure 3.4]. He never explicitly stated his objections to the Prayer Book, but instead subtly inserted his complaints in his point-by-point contrasts. He had to exercise some caution in expressing his differences, for the author of it was his friend and mentor. But it is evident in his treatment that he was systematically working through the section on the sacrament in the Prayer Book, which of course was, in part, a translation of the Mass. Becon used the rhetorical device of point-by-point contrast to demonstrate the differences between Christ’s practice and the ‘papistes’ practice. Though Becon consistently used the term ‘papistes’, he was clearly referring to those within the English church who practiced the Catholic mass. This list of contrasts was a subtle way for Becon to express his objections to the practice of the sacrament and the 1549 Prayer Book.

58 TNA, SP 10/5f.23 (22 October 1549). 59 Diarmaid MacCulloch, Thomas Cranmer (New Haven, 1996), p. 398; Diarmaid MacCulloch, Tudor Church Militant (London, 1999). 60 MacCulloch, Thomas Cranmer, pp. 403–406, 505. 61 MacCulloch, Thomas Cranmer, p. 405. 62 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sigs. P2v–Q2v.

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Figure 3.4 Becon’s objections to the 1549 Book of Common Prayer regarding the sacrament Aspect of the Lord’s Supper Frequency

Christ’s sacrament

Papistes mass

1549 Book of Common Prayer

‘so ofte as they woulde’

‘onely to receive it at Requirement of three Easter, or whan they be times per year.63 in perell of death’

Kneeling at the table

‘sytting at the table’

‘to receive it kneling upon their kenes [sic]’

Clerical vestments

‘in such apparel, as he ‘maskyng apparel, [Christ] did customably Albes, girdles, weare’64 vestimentes, coopes, tunicle’65

‘the Priest…shall put upon hym the vesture appoincted…a white Albe plain, with a vestement or Cope… Albes, with tunacles’

Ceremonial procedures

‘Christe plainly and puerly ministered the sacramente to hys Disciples wythout ceremonies’

‘sensers, belles, candles, paxes, corporasses, superaltaries, altare clothes, cruetres napkins’

Extensive descriptions of the ambience, furniture, and items associated with the sacrament.

Posture of the priest

‘Christ sate at the table and turned hys face to his Disciples’

‘they stand at an altare and turne their backes to the multitude’

‘the Priest standing humbly afore the middes of the Altar…turnyng hym to the Altar’

Giving of the sacraments

‘Christe gave the sacrament of his bodye and bloude into the Disciples handes’

‘papistes put it in the peoples mouthes not sufferynge them to touche it with their handes’

‘it is thought convenient the people commonly receive the Sacrament of Christes body, in their mouthes, at the Priestes hande’

‘all kneling humbly upon their knees’. See also ‘Declaring True Meaning of Kneeling at Communion’ (27 October 1552)

Edward’s religious reforms prompted a bolder, more aggressive polemic against the Catholic church. The image of Old Testament Egypt became a frequent metaphor to portray bondage to the Catholic church. While the metaphor of ‘Egypt’ was one that the Henrician evangelicals used to describe the spiritual 63 Alec Ryrie, Being Protestant in Reformation Britain (Oxford, 2013), p. 336; MacCulloch, Tudor Church Militant, p. 107. 64 This view was quite radical for his day. Becon never elaborated further on this position. 65 This was the only time where Becon voiced his opinion on vestments. He clearly opposed vestments, but presumably was able to avoid the controversy that embroiled Hooper and Ridley.

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captivity of man before conversion, Edwardian evangelicals extended the metaphor in its application to the Catholic church. In Edwardian evangelical literature, ‘Egypt’ became synonymous with false teaching, abusive authority, and carnality. Some evangelicals used the example of Israel demanding a return to Egypt to depict the conservatives who objected to Edward’s reforms. As the Israelites complained to Moses about the conditions in the wilderness to the extent that they threatened a return to their former lives of slavery in Egypt, so Becon in 1549 likened them to those who opposed Edward. By comparison, Edward was ‘Moses’, the divinely appointed leader of God’s people, attempting to lead the nation of England on an exodus out of spiritual Egypt, the Catholic church. But many among the exodus ‘wyshe[d] rather to be agayne in Egipt among the greasy fleshepots, devouringe Cucumbers, Melons, Leekes, Oynions and garlike, then to taste of Manna that heavenlye meate’.66 Becon, in a prayer to God for England, invoked the language of spiritual captivity, using metaphors from both the Israelite exodus out of Egypt and the Babylonian captivity.67 It appears that Bale followed Becon’s observations on this point. Bale’s use of this metaphor in 1552 was strikingly similar to Becon’s in comparing the Catholic clergy to the ‘carnall Israelytes’ in the wilderness who rejected the ‘celestyall Manna of Christes Gospell’ and demanded to return to Egypt.68 Pertinent to the discussion of anti-papist rhetoric is an examination of the gendered anti-popery metaphors used by the evangelicals of the 1540s and 1550s. It has been argued that the English evangelicals exclusively associated the Catholic church with ‘feminine’ qualities, such as frailty and carnality.69 Those who make the case for gendered anti-papist language appeal to the numerous examples in evangelical print of the link between the ‘weaker sex’ and the Catholic church, particularly in the use of gendered metaphors. For example, Arthur Marotti has contended that English evangelicals were guilty of ‘Protestant misogyny’ in their anti-papist rhetoric, viewing reformed Christianity as ‘masculinized’ and associating anything outside of it with femininity.70 However, this assessment is simply untrue and an overgeneralisation. While the evangelicals did ascribe feminine terms and qualities to the Catholic church and the pope, they were just as willing to associate masculine terms and

66 67 68 69

Becon, Flour of godly praiers, Preface, sigs. A5r–v. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sigs. L2v–3r. Bale, Expostulation, sig. A3r. Katherine Dean, ‘The gendered language of anti-papist polemic in England, 1603–1702’ (PhD thesis, University of Cambridge, 2000); Frances E. Dolan, Whores of Babylon: Catholicism, gender and seventeenth-century print culture (Ithaca, 1999); Arthur F. Marotti, Religious ideology and cultural fantasy: Catholic and anti-Catholic discourses in early modern England (South Bend, 2005). 70 Marotti, Religious ideology, pp. 36–37.

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images with the pope [see Figure 3.5]. In fact, some of those images displayed the excessive ‘masculinity’ of the church. The evangelicals’ most utilised metaphor for the Catholic church was the eschatological figure from the Book of Revelation, the ‘beast’, occasionally rendered ‘monster’ by some evangelicals. While θηριον, translated ‘beast’, is neuter in the Greek text of the Bible, the English Bible translators consistently used the masculine pronoun in describing the ‘beast’ [see Figure 3.6] But outside the biblical text, the evangelicals were not consistent on the gender of the ‘beast’. For instance, William Punt referred to the ‘monster’ of Revelation in the feminine.71 Becon also gave a feminine rendering of the beast when he condemned the ‘papistes’.72 But both Bale and Brinklow referred to the ‘beast’, the Catholic church in both of their interpretations, as masculine, perhaps under the influence of the masculine renderings of the ‘beast’ in the major English translations of the Bible.73 This demonstrates that there was not a standard gender usage for ‘beast’ in the evangelical mindset and, therefore, not a concerted effort to degrade women by exclusively feminising anti-papist terms as Marotti argues. Figure 3.5 Gendered anti-popery metaphors Metaphor Beast/monster

Gender English Bible: masc; English evangelicals: masc and fem

Referent Beast of Revelation = Catholic church

Whore, strumpet, baud, fem harlot, sprite

Babylon = Catholic church

antichrist

masc

pope

Pharoah

masc

pope

Baal

masc

pope/Catholic church

Figure 3.6 Gender of the ‘beast’ in the Book of Revelation English Bible Wyclif (1382)

Revelation 13 masculine

Revelation 14 masculine

Revelation 16 masculine

Revelation 17 feminine

Tyndale (1525)

masculine

masculine

masculine

neuter

Coverdale (1535)

masculine

masculine

masculine

neuter

Great Bible (1539)

masculine

masculine

masculine

neuter

71 William Punt, A new dialoge called the endightment agaynste mother Messe (London: William Hill and William Seres, 1548) STC 20499, sig. B2v–3r. 72 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. P4v. 73 Bale, Apology of Iohan Bale, sig. S5v; Henry Brinklow, The lamentacyon of a Christe[n] agai[n]st the citye of London (London: A. Scoloker and W. Seres, 1548) STC 3766, sig. C4v.

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Another set of metaphors that Becon and other evangelicals used frequently was that of terms related to marital infidelity, a usage that was favoured by the Old Testament prophets. These terms were intended to highlight the spiritual adultery of the Catholic church and to render it in the readers’ minds as an impure, corrupt church. The most common term in this class of metaphors was ‘Babylon’. Associate terms included ‘whore’, ‘strompet’, ‘harlot’, ‘sprite’, and ‘baude’, all of which are clearly feminine. Based upon the Apostle John’s description of Babylon as the ‘whore’ in Revelation 17:1–5, the ‘Babylon’ metaphor with its associate terms became a polemical tool for the evangelicals in portraying the Catholic church as the ultimate ‘whore’. Becon argued that the Catholic priests ‘are those marked Marchauntes, whiche have committed abhominable whoredomme wyth that fylthey and uncleane stromppette Babylon’.74 Becon longed for the day when religion was pure and free from the ‘Babilonical strompet’, the Catholic church.75 Becon prayed that the Lord would ‘take awaye from us the proud whore of Babylon, that great and blasphemous baude. Down, o lord wyth that gorgyous strompet’.76 Miles Coverdale in 1541 similarly condemned the Catholic church using three feminine terms: ‘she is a very spirituall strompet and comon harlot so is she a mother of murther a shedder of innocent bloud’.77 In 1543 John Bale utilised the full gamut of ‘Babylon’ feminine terms when he described the Catholic church as the ‘whorishe mother, the churche of antichrist, the strompent of babylon, the rose coloured harlot with the cuppe of all fylthye abhominacyons’.78 Anthony Gilby in 1547 condemned Bishop Gardiner who ‘led us out of the waye’ to ‘whoreinge in to Babilon’.79 William Punt issued a warning with a clear distinction of genders, desiring that ‘all christen men to beware of thys wycked sprite for she is the rosse coloread whore’.80 Becon’s use of the feminine gender for the evangelical church also demonstrates his flexibility with gendered language and again weakens Marotti’s argument. In a polemical section from Davids harpe, Becon composed a list of point-by-point contrasts between the ‘synagoge of Antechrist’ and ‘the chyrch of Christe’.81 The ‘synagoge of Antechrist’ was not only a reference to the Catholic 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. P4v. Thomas Becon, The castell of comforte (London: John Day, 1549) STC 1712, sigs. A4r–v. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. D7v. Miles Coverdale, A confutacion of that treatise, which one Iohn Standish made (Zurich: C. Froschauer, 1541) STC 5888, sig. D3v. John Bale, Yet a course at the Romyshe foxe A dysclosynge or openynge of the Manne of synne (Zurich: Oliver Jacobson, 1543) STC 1309, sig. B8r. Anthony Gilby, An answer to the devillish detection of Stephane Gardiner (London: S. Mierdman for John Day 1548) STC 11884, sig. C1r. Punt, New dialoge, sig. C4v. Becon, Davids harpe, sigs. K7r–L3v.

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church. Becon included ‘Papistes, Anabaptistes, Sacramentaries’ in the ‘synagoge’. The ‘chyrch of Christe’ represented the evangelical church. Most of Becon’s contrasts between the two churches were explicitly gendered in nature, regularly incorporating the feminine pronoun for both metaphors. The ‘chyrch of Christe’ was the ‘spouse of Christe’ and the ‘handmayde of God’. Those in the ‘Synagoge of Antechrist’ were disobedient and impure ‘mastresses’, estranged from God. In contrast, those within the ‘chyrch of Christe’ were married to Christ, their husband, and they were to keep themselves spiritually pure for him.82 Further, Becon exhorted those belonging to the ‘chyrch of Christe’, the evangelical community, to be ‘handmaydes and no[t] mastresses’.83 He elaborated, using qualities associated with feminine behaviour. Christians in the ‘chyrch of Christe’ were to be the Lord’s ‘handmaydes’, ‘obedient subiectes, and not arrogant superiours and presumpteous checke mates’. Throughout this catalogue of comparisons, Becon ‘feminised’ both the evangelicals and Catholics. This example serves as another important corrective to the gendered anti-popery discussion by undermining the argument that evangelicals exclusively masculinised themselves and feminised the Catholic church. Clearly, Becon had no qualms about using either gender to express his point. However, the evangelicals did not limit their anti-papist metaphors to just the feminine gender. While it is true that the evangelicals used many feminine metaphors to represent the Catholic church, it is also true that they incorporated many masculine images to portray moral perversion. The feminine gender was primarily used in the context of sexual and marital sins to communicate spiritual adultery. But the masculine gender was used just as freely to describe immoral behaviour and abusive authority. The evangelicals favoured the masculine terms ‘antichrist’, ‘Pharaoh’, and ‘Baal’ in referring to the pope. ‘Antichrist’, as the evangelicals used the term, was symbolic of a man who usurped God’s authority. John Mardeley called the pope the ‘antichrist’ when he compared the Catholic clergy to ‘the lycherouse locusts of Egypte’.84 The ‘Pharaoh’ metaphor always referred to the pope himself and consistently was found in contexts of the exodus where the evangelicals sought to associate the Catholic church with bondage to sin and carnal pleasures.85 As was already noted, the ‘Egypt’ metaphor communicated the Church’s bondage to sin and carnality. Despite Dolan’s and Marotti’s claim that the evangelicals ex82 Becon, Davids harpe, sig. L2v. 83 Becon, Davids harpe, sig. L1r. 84 John Mardeley, Here beginneth a necessarie instruction for all covetous ryche men (London: Thomas Reynold, 1548) STC 17319, sig. D7r. 85 Anonymous, The dysclosyng of the canon of ye popysh masse with a sermon (London, 1548) STC 17626, sig. C7r; John Bale, The first examinacio[n] of Anne Askewe latelye martired in Smythfelde (London: Nicholas Hill, 1547) STC 851, sig. F6r.

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clusively associated the Church with feminine carnality, the ‘Pharaoh’ metaphor demonstrates the antithesis. For instance, in arguing for the supreme authority of the Scriptures, Hooper called the pope ‘the hygh pryst of Egypt’.86 Bale also used ‘Pharaoh’ as a metaphor for the pope in an extended metaphor of the exodus.87 These examples specifically demonstrate that the evangelicals could associate the pope or Catholic church with a sinful male leader, and not limit themselves to just fallen women as Frances Dolan has argued.88 The most elaborate and extensive treatment of ‘Pharaoh’ as the ‘bishop of Rome’ was by Catherine Parr.89 ‘Pharaoh’ was the ‘persecutor of al true christians’, but Henry VIII, whom she called ‘Moses’, ‘delyvered us out of the captivitie and bondage of Pharao’. The evangelicals implemented the ‘Baal’ metaphor to portray Catholicism as the false religion, specifically stressing the pagan sacrifices and rituals and the martyrdom of the evangelicals. This metaphor will be revisited in Chapter 5 in the context of prophetic rhetoric. These and countless other examples of the use of masculine metaphors serve as an important corrective to the discussion on gendered antipopery rhetoric. The strong polemical language coming from the evangelical reformers was, in part, due to what they called the deteriorating morals of the clergy. The moral corruption and intellectual incompetence of the clergy were the two areas that frustrated Becon. Writing in 1549, Becon expressed his pessimism about the state of religion in England when he argued that Catholic clergy were deeply corrupt. With biting satire and witty rhetorical skills in alliteration, he contended that the sorcererlyke Sacryfycers, with the pratyng Papistes, wyth the monstrous Monckes, wyth the chatrerynge Channons, wyth the flatterynge fryers, and such other mumryshe mummers have deceyved almost all the worlde, ledynge us from Gods blessed worde to mannes tryfleinge tradicions, from the waye of salvacion unto the state of damnacion, from heaven to hel, from God to the dyvyl.90

In a prayer pleading to God for clerical reform, Becon indicted the clergy for selfishly benefiting from church funds while neglecting their parishioners. In that prayer he complained, that the ‘Ministers of thy church’ lacked ‘lovinge pitie toward the pore’ and ‘are them selfes verye wealthy, and lyve all in pleasure of the churche goodes’.91 Becon’s superior, Cranmer, similarly described the selfish 86 John Hooper, An answer unto my lord of wynthesters [sic] booke intytlyd a detection of the devyls sophistrye (Zurich: Augustine Fries, 1547) STC 13741, sig. D8r. 87 Bale, Expostulation, sig. A3r. 88 Dolan, Whores of Babylon, p. 52. 89 Katherine Parr, The lamentacion of a synner (London: Edward Whitchurch, 1547) STC 4827, sigs. D6r–v. 90 Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, Prologue, sigs. A6r–v. 91 Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. E3r.

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accumulation of wealth by the clergy as they ‘had great gaynes by diriges, services to synge for sowles, trentals, pylgrimages, pardons’.92 In his descriptions of morally corrupt clergy, Becon utilised the ‘shepherd’ metaphor from the Bible, derived from Jeremiah 23 and 1 Peter 3, to prove the clergy’s failure to live according to God’s expectations for spiritual shepherds. The metaphor was intended to be both a biblical and polemical model for all clergy. Those clergy who were neglecting their spiritual duties were not true shepherds, according to Becon, but impostors and ‘hyrelinges’.93 They were characterised by ‘theyr corrupte maners, wicked livinge, and most detestable conversacion’.94 He asked God to remove the ‘monstures’ who ‘fede them selves and not thy shepe’. He requested that ‘in theyr steade place good Byshops, learned prechers, christen ministers, faythful teachers, true spirituall fathers’.95 He pronounced damnation on the clergy who were more concerned with their welfare than that of their parishioners.96 These ‘shepherds’ were ‘idle lubbers, which do nothing but devour the shepe, cloth themselfes with the finest of the wol and eat of the fattest of the flock. Theves and robbers are they, and not pastores and preachers’.97 Becon contrasted the activity of hirelings with that of ‘faythfull’ shepherds who ‘seke up the loste shepe, lovinglye lay them on their shulders, and faythfully bryng them home again unto the shepefolde’.98 Becon’s complaints about the corruption and incompetence of the clergy went directly to the king. He appealed to Edward in 1549 to consider his suggestions and to take immediate action on them. He called for ‘uniformitie in religion’ and requested that ‘learned curates [be] appointed in every parish’. If that were not feasible, he argued, then every county should have ‘learned and godly preachers’ providing pastoral care for the people as well as ‘preaching to the people the good wyll, and pleasure of god’. In addition, he asked for the appointment of priests who would ‘read to the people the saide scriptures, and the homiles, reverently minister the sacramentes, visit the sicke people, make colleccions for the poore, and vertuouslye brynge up the youthe of the towne’. Becon claimed that if this plan were implemented, English society would be transformed into ‘a flowrishing realme’ where ‘learni[n]g and vertue [should] prosper’ and where ‘christian workes should issue out of our dayly conversation and living’.99

92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99

Cranmer, Catechismus, sig. K3v. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. D5r. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. D5v. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. D8v. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. E3r. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. D4v. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. D4v. See also E2r. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sigs. C5r–v.

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Did Becon’s appeals help to effect change? Judging from the revised canon laws of 1553, some of Becon’s concerns were addressed and implemented within the articles. For instance, a law was passed making the visitation of the sick by clergy mandatory.100 The moral laxity of clergy was also addressed. Adultery committed by clergy carried the penalty of either banishment or incarceration for life.101 Preachers who were both godly and learned in the biblical doctrines were to be appointed by the bishops.102 Those preachers were to regularly catechise their parishioners, including both children and adults, and the weekly catechism was never to be cancelled.103 Becon’s voice seems to have been heard in the process of the revision of canon law. Though Becon himself was not on the commission of 32, some of his closest friends and colleagues served on that commission, including Thomas Cranmer, Hugh Latimer, Nicholas Wotton, William Cecil, and John Hooper.104 Becon’s reaction to these changes was not recorded but Hooper appeared to be cautiously optimistic in 1552 when he wrote to William Cecil, ‘You and I, if we should kneel all days of our life, could not give condign thanks to God for that he hath mercifully inclined the hearts of the people to wish and hunger for the word of God, as they do. Doubtless it is a great flock that Christ will save in England’.105

Poverty and poor relief in the commonwealth One of the major issues of commonwealth literature was the crisis of poverty during the Somerset era. To what extent poverty was a problem in early modern England has been the subject of lengthy debate among historians.106 W. G. 100 Gerald Bray (ed), Tudor Church Reform: The Henrician Canons of 1535 and the Reformatio Legum Ecclesiasticarum (Woodbridge, 2005), p. 231. 101 Bray, Tudor Church Reform, p. 265. 102 Bray, Tudor Church Reform, p. 239. 103 Bray, Tudor Church Reform, p. 341. 104 Bray, Tudor Church Reform, pp. xlvi–l. 105 S. R. Scargill-Bird (ed), Calendar of the Manuscripts of the Most Hon. the Marquis of Salisbury (24 vols; London, 1883), I. p. 107. 106 Ian W. Archer, ‘The Charity of Early Modern Londoners’ in Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, Vol. 12 (2002); L. A. Botelho, Old age and the English poor law, 1500–1700 (Woodbridge, 2004); Susan Brigden, London and the Reformation (Oxford, 1989); C. S. L. Davies, ‘Slavery and Protector Somerset: the Vagrancy Act of 1547’ The Economic History Review 19 (1966), pp. 533–549; Paul A. Fideler, ‘Poverty, Policy and Providence: The Tudors and the Poor’, in Paul A. Fideler and T. F. Mayer (eds), Political Thought and the Tudor Commonwealth: Deep Structure, Discourse and Disguise, (London, 1992); Felicity Heal, Hospitality in Early Modern England (Oxford, 1990); Steve Hindle, On the Parish? The MicroPolitics of Poor Relief in Rural England, c.1550–1750 (Oxford, 2004); W. G. Hoskins, Provincial England (London, 1963); Marjorie McIntosh, Poor relief in England, 1350–1600 (Cambridge, 2014); Steve Rappaport, Worlds within worlds: structures of life in sixteenth-

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Hoskins’ view that at least two-thirds of the urban population of England in the 1520s lived below or around the line of poverty was not seriously challenged until around 25 years after his publication of Provincial England.107 He suggested that there was a wide gap between the wealthy and the poor, around one-third of the urban population living in abject poverty. Though not concurring completely with his argument, some more recent scholars such as Paul Slack, Lynn A. Botelho, Susan Brigden, and Marjorie McIntosh have argued that poverty was indeed an acute problem in England, particularly during the Edwardian era. Steve Rappaport, however, has challenged the traditional view. Using figures from surveys in the 16th century, he has noted that the number of deserving poor in London was not nearly as high as historians have claimed.108 In 1552, a government survey indicated that there were 2,100 deserving poor people in London, which would have been approximately 10.9 % of London’s total population. Rappaport admits that the total number of poor people was probably more since the undeserving poor were not included in the figure of the 1552 survey. On the other hand, he concludes that the number of deserving poor may be overstated due to the chronology of inflation. So in the end, Rappaport believes that the figure of 10.9 % of the London population being poor is most likely realistic. Further, Rappaport has suggested that the alleged causes of poverty, the fall of wages and the increase of prices, were as not as significant as Hoskins and others claimed.109 He argues that inflation was more of a gradual, steady increase over the course of many years rather than an immediate, radical change. Botelho, in contrast, has countered that both inflation and the decline of wages in the 1550s were both dramatic in their timing and bitter in their effect.110 Another contributing factor in the increase of poverty in London, in particular, was the explosion in population around 1550.111 At the heart of the poverty issue was how it was being portrayed through print by those affected by it. The references to dire poverty in London in the late 1540s and early 1550s, for example, are numerous and seem to point to a widespread problem with serious consequences on an

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century London (Cambridge, 1989); Neil S. Ruston, ‘Monastic charitable provision in Tudor England: quantifying and the qualifying poor relief in the early sixteenth century’ Continuity and Change 16 (2001), pp. 9–44. John Pound, Poverty and vagrancy in Tudor England (Harlow, 1986); Clarie S. Schen, Charity and Lay Piety in Reformation London (Aldershot, 2002); Anne M. Scott (ed), Experiences of poverty in late medieval and early modern England (Aldershot, 2012); Paul Slack, Poverty and policy in Tudor and Stuart England (Harlow, 1988); Margaret Yates, ‘Between fact and fiction: Henry Brinklow’s Complaynt against rapacious landlords’ The Agricultural History Review 54 (2006), pp. 24–44. Hoskins, Provincial England, p. 84. Rappaport, Worlds within worlds, p. 169. Rappaport, Worlds within worlds, pp. 151, 153, 155, 160. Botelho, Old age and the English poor law, pp. 3–4. Schen, Charity, p. 69; Slack, Poverty and Vagrancy, pp. 10–11.

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unprecedented scale. This is something that Rappaport simply fails to address in his argument. The evangelicals, in particular, painted a grim picture of the situation and this became the basis for their perpetual pleas in both sermons and printed tracts to rectify the situation. Of course, perception might have departed from reality. Nevertheless, the evangelicals repeatedly appealed to both the government and the citizens of the commonwealth to relieve the poor. Becon’s focus, similar to that of other evangelicals, was on the plight of the urban poor, specifically the poor of London. Because of his work within the Walbrook ward, this would naturally make sense. Becon believed that there was a larger underlying issue that exacerbated the condition of the poor. He pointed to an English society that suffered from unnecessary divisions. In a trio of rhetorical questions followed by curt responses, Becon illustrated the tensions between different sectors of society, when he noted that, ‘The servaunte to rule the master, the inferiour to ryse against his soveraign, the subiect to disobey his governour’.112 He called this social disorder a ‘comberous confusion’ in the ‘comon weale’.113 Thomas Lever’s comments regarding society also revealed an underlying concern about ‘sedicion’ and divisions across social strata.114 Becon’s descriptions of the poor were made around the latter part of 1549 and focused on London. Becon described the poor as those ‘who are not fed wyth meat as thou [God] haste commaunded, but they rather miserably sterve for honger’.115 With emotive imagery, he explained in another treatise that the poor were ‘assayled wyth the cruell dartes of povertie and honger, that they in a maner despaire of necessary foode and convenient apparel for the sustentation of theyr poore wretched karcasses’.116 He blamed the problem of poverty squarely on the rich for their covetousness and for being the cause of inflation.117 An anonymous writer, elaborating upon the dire situation of the poor being victims of the escalating prices, wrote, ‘the labouringe man shal barely get by his labour to finde him selfe his necessary sustenaunce’.118 Because the poor were constantly ‘molested, troubled, and disquieted’ by the rich, Becon concluded with hyperbole that it was better for the poor man to suffer the ‘furies of Hell’ than to ‘dwell by those ryche carles’.119 With explicit language Becon described their physical state as a result of such torment. They were ‘lyke 112 113 114 115 116 117 118

Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. C4r. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. C4r. Lever, Fruitfull sermon, sig. A5r. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. E3r. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. A2r. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. G4r. Anonymous, Pyers plowmans exhortation, unto the lordes, knightes and burgoysses of the Parlyamenthouse (London: Anthony Scoloker, 1550) STC 19905, sig. A6r. 119 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. G4v.

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unto dry haddockes’ and their physical appearance was as if ‘they came latelye oute of Saynte Patrickes pargatorye. They are so wythered awaye even to the hard bones for colde and honger’.120 He lamented that the ‘defenders of the pore, are now becom the destroiers of the same’.121 Apparently, not even the justices of peace were responding to the complaints of the poor.122 Becon was determined to be an advocate for the poor, like the prophets who both raised an awareness of their plight and condemned both those who plotted against them and those who were indifferent toward their needs. The escalation of prices was a serious conundrum for the Edwardian administration. Inflation, in fact, was so severe that the prices of agricultural goods in the 1550s had risen by 95 % from the 1530s.123 One cause of this inflation was the government’s increased taxation due to its wars in Scotland and France.124 In addition to taxation, M. L. Bush has suggested the crop failures of 1549 to 1551 contributed even further to the continued inflation.125 Another contributing factor to inflation was an increase in population resulting in an increased usage of marginal land for agricultural development.126 Becon, as an advocate of the poor in the spirit of the prophets, addressed some of these specific agricultural ramifications related to their mistreatment in an attempt to communicate it to his readers. In one instance, Becon addressed the production of wool and the corrupt practices of the rich wool producers, whom he called ‘gredy woulves and comberous cormerauntes’.127 He charged them with two offences. First, they allowed their sheep to graze in the fields of the common people, ‘so that the poore people are not able to kepe a cow for the confort of them and of their pore familie, but are like to starve and perish for honger’.128 Second, Becon alleged that the sale practices of the wool producers were unjust. They ‘wyll eyther sell theyr woll and theyr shepe at theyr owne price or els they wyll sell none’.129 This price gouging, Becon argued, would cause the poor to ‘both miserablye dye for colde, and wretchedly perysh for honger’, because their lives were very much dependent upon the sheep for their sustenance.130 The market and the inflation of prices, he continued, were at the mercy of the ‘gredy Gentilmen’, and ‘sins they beganne to 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130

Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. E4r–v. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. H1v. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. F1v. M. L. Bush, Government Policy of Protector Somerset (London, 1975), p. 58. Bush, Government Policy of Protector Somerset, p. 58. Bush, Government Policy of Protector Somerset, p. 59. Loach, Edward VI, pp. 58–59. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. G3v. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. G3r. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. G3v. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sigs. G3r–v.

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be shepe Maisters and feders of cattel we neither had vitaile nor cloth of anye resonable price’.131 Hooper complained about the inflation and described its effects upon society to Cecil in a letter dated 17 April 1551. He noted that ‘all things are here so dear that most people lack, and more will lack, necessary food. The body of a calf in the market is 14 s. and a sheep 10s. White meat is so dear that a groat is nothing to a poor man to sow any victuals. If this continues the wealth and strength of the realm will perish’.132 In the same letter he also appealed to William Cecil on behalf of the impoverished with a warning that ‘God’s wrath will punish’ if these concerns were not rectified.133 Lever, who was ordained a deacon at St Paul’s in London, in 1550 provided further details of the increasingly horrid conditions of the poor that correlate with Becon’s observations in London at the same time. Hooper gave his readers some graphic displays of the poverty he witnessed on the ‘mirie stretes’ of London and Westminster including ‘old Fathers, poore Wydowes, and yong children, lie begging’.134 Lever denounced the rich for caring for their cattle better, while neglecting the poor ‘lye[ing] in the streates’.135 Who then was to blame for these conditions? While Becon and other evangelicals blamed the rich for the financial disaster, some like William Paget and Lord Richard Rich accused Somerset for his policies.136 The next chapter will explore the fiery, political rhetoric that Becon and other evangelicals incorporated, a rhetoric that often brought upon the evangelicals the charge of sedition and treason. But how grim really was the situation in London? Becon and his evangelical counterparts claimed that the state of poverty in London was dire. In proving their case, they not only used graphic images of destitution in order to arouse pity, but they also submitted specific figures to verify their claims. For example, Becon described the increase of wool prices in 1549 as ‘a stone of woll somtime to be sold at viii. grots and now for viii. s’.137 That was a 300 % increase! In another tract from 1549 Becon complained about the landowners who ‘stretche out the rentes therof, almost from a peny to a pounde’.138 Based upon actual financial reports from the period, prices in London may have risen by as much as 89 % from 1544 to 1551.139 While that is substantial, that is not nearly as high as Becon 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139

Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. H1r. TNA, SP 10/13f.28. TNA, SP 10/13f.28 Thomas Lever, A sermon preached the thyrd Sondaye (London: John Day, 1550) STC 15548, sig. D5r. See also D5v for another graphic description of street life. Lever, Sermon preached the thyrd Sondaye, sig. D6r. Brigden, London and the Reformation, 491; Bush, Government Policy of Protector Somerset, pp. 73–83. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. G3v. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. E3v–E4r. Brigden, London and the Reformation, p. 490.

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and other evangelicals purported. Were Becon’s figures reliable? Could there have possibly been some intentional embellishment of the figures as opposed to mere guesswork? If so, why did he exaggerate the facts? Margaret Yates has suggested that the evangelicals were prone to repeatedly exaggerate their financial facts and figures in their tracts.140 Primarily using the mercer and evangelical Henry Brinklow as a case study, she argues that the evangelicals were so urgent to bring about a godly commonwealth that they intentionally fudged their figures. Their level of frustration, she observes, with the situation affected their rhetoric and may have influenced them to embellish data.141 Poverty in London, she suggests, was not nearly as bad as the evangelicals portrayed it to be. While certainly there was truth in what they were communicating, many of the evangelicals resorted to embellishment. Despite these alleged exaggerations, it is agreed upon by most historians that London was a cesspool of squalor with the increase of vagabonds on the streets, the physical condition of those who were poor, the increased usage of London’s Bartholomew Hospital by the poor, and the incessant inflation rates.142 Becon blamed the problem of poverty on the rich, and, he reserved his severest condemnations for the rich. Becon criticised those with an excessive display of wealth, specifically for their garish attire. In Iewel of ioye, Becon assumed the role more of a fashion critic than cleric in describing the wardrobe of the rich. Approximately half of the treatise addressed clothing. He castigated the rich for their ‘vanitie of gorgious apparell’.143 He advocated the avoidance of excessive, ostentatious clothing. He argued that ‘al degrees of personnes [were] to weare apparell accordyng to their state and callynge, so that vanitie, excesse and reioysyng therin be banished’.144 Becon’s reason for despising such lavish displays of attire was simply the ungenerous, haughty spirit shown to the poor by those who were dressed richly.145 Mardeley also observed the ‘ryche covetous men’ who were ‘lyving in all lustes and pleasures as in sumptious farre, Gorgyous apparel, gallant and fayre houses’.146 Hooper expressed his view of clothing when he prescribed ‘that eche of them shuld avoyde the excesse and ile therof that is for bidden in Godes lawes’.147 Becon had a response and an antidote to the social injustice and moral corruption he decried. As already noted, a repentant spirit was the prerequisite for 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147

Yates, ‘Between fact and fiction’, pp. 24–25. Yates, ‘Between fact and fiction’, p. 44. Brigden, London and the Reformation, pp. 475–480. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. K1v. See also sig. J5r–v. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sigs. K1v–K2r. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, Prologue, sigs. C7r–v. Mardeley, Here beginneth a necessarie instruction, sigs. C2v–C3r. Hooper, Declaration of the ten holy co[m]maundementes, sig. M3r.

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substantive change in English society. While Becon did acknowledge repentance as a crucial point, he was more interested in the internal state of virtuous character and the consequent external actions that demonstrated genuine, heart-felt change. In Becon’s estimation, the possession of a virtuous character accompanied by virtuous deeds would be what would ultimately transform society. In discussing the characteristics of ‘gentlemen’, he dismissed the notion that ‘gentlemen’ were gentlemen by virtue of ‘their goodes, by their auncestoures, by antiquitie, by the worthines of their stocke, and many go[o]d morowes’.148 Rather, Becon insisted, true ‘gentlemen’ were defined by their virtue, not their wealth.149 Furthermore, the possession of virtue extended to one’s ‘godlye vocacion’, every subject of the commonwealth ‘lyv[ing] in their vocacion’.150 In his explanation of ‘godlye vocacion’ Becon included ‘lawers’, ‘shomakers’, ‘tailors’, ‘merchaunts’, the ‘scholemasters’, mothers, and fathers.151 Within this context of a ‘godly’ work ethic, Becon exhorted, ‘Let us labour to garnishe our mindes wyth vertues’.152 When it came to rest from one’s work, the evangelicals also argued for ‘godly’ recreation. Latimer, in particular, advocated bow shooting, for it was ‘so excellente a gift of God’.153 So passionate was he for bow shooting that he even exhorted Edward to issue a ‘sharpe proclamacion’ that ‘this singular benefit of god may be practised.154 Another aspect of virtuous living was the contribution of moral good to the ‘publique weale’. These societal obligations and functions of every single individual, Becon argued, were crucial to the preservation of the English commonwealth. All citizens were to be ‘mainteiners of the pore, defenders of the widowes and fatherles, socurers of the nedy, conforters of the comfortles, and upholders of the common weale’.155 If individuals fulfilled their human responsibilities to each other, they would be ‘pearles and iu[w]els to a realme, and as necessari for the conservacion of a publike weale, as fyre, water, and heate is for the health of mans bodi’.156 Crucial to the understanding of poverty and the treatment of the poor was Becon’s theological understanding of poverty. Becon’s context of ministry at St Stephen Walbrook in London seems to have influenced his observations on 148 149 150 151 152 153

Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. E5r. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. E5r–v. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. L3r. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. L3r–v. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. K6v. Hugh Latimer, The seconde [seventh] sermon of Maister Hughe Latimer (London: John Day, 1549) STC 15274.7, sig. T4v. See also sig. T4r. 154 Latimer, Seconde [seventh] sermon, sig. T5r. 155 Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. E2r. 156 Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. E2r.

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poverty. His theology of poverty was infused with pastoral counsel. Becon contended that poverty was not merely something that men brought upon themselves, but was rather a gift from God.157 God’s providence was in poverty as He personally ‘appointed some to bee poore that they might receive the benefites at the rich mens hands’. While affirming that poverty was a divine gift of providence, he acknowledged that it was a ‘burden’ and a ‘crosse’.158 Becon pointed to a deeper spiritual purpose that God had in gifting some with poverty, that God would ‘prove hys [the poor man’s] fayeth, and to styrre hym up to call on hym [God]’.159 Becon also stressed the ‘nurturing’ nature of poverty in spiritual development. God used poverty ‘to mortifye olde Adam, to slea your carnal lusts’.160 Poverty was not to be resisted, because the spiritual benefits that proceeded from it were salutary. Becon’s pastoral counsel to those in poverty was to ‘truste in God, and abide in thy place’.161 Though initially it may appear that Becon was contradicting himself by exhorting the poor to accept their poverty and, at the same time, condemning poverty, it must be stressed that he was opposed to poverty that was brought on by unjust causes. Poor relief in England during the late medieval and early modern periods took on three distinct forms as Marjorie McIntosh has noted.162 First, ‘charity’ was a spirit of compassion and benevolence for the poor. Second, ‘alms’ were pious donations given by individuals taking various forms such as bequests after one’s death, religious gifts to one’s parish or religious order, and gifts serving a public function such as roads and bridges. Third, relief to the poor was given directly by parishes in partnership with Parliament. This partnership between the church and the state in creating and administering poor relief became the standard mechanism of poor relief after 1547.163 Poor relief was often the giving of physical, practical items such as food, clothing, and money. But it could also include rentfree living from wealthy landlords.164 In the 1550s especially, poor relief was an organised community effort where helping the poor involved the placement of orphans in homes, the provision of food or money during times of plague, and the regular monitoring of the poor by urban guilds.165 One of Becon’s concerns in the administering of poor relief was the fraud and dishonesty of the clergy. As McIntosh has demonstrated, fraudulent activity 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165

Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. F1r. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. F1r. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. U3v. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. U4v. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. U3v. McIntosh, Poor relief in England, pp. 4–13. McIntosh, Poor relief in England, p. 12; Schen, Charity, p. 94. McIntosh, Poor relief in England, pp. 25–30. McIntosh, Poor relief in England, pp. 27–30.

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among both those giving and those receiving was a rampant problem during Edward’s reign.166 For example, Becon accused the archdeacons of not meeting their financial obligations to the poor. Since October 1547, a compulsory poor rate was imposed upon all parishes in London.167 Funds were, therefore, to be collected for and disbursed to the poor on a regular basis. Becon indicted the archdeacons for allocating the poor relief funds of their parishes toward church projects such as the maintenance and repair of vestments, the chalice, the chrismatory, and the churchyard.168 The increasing importance of the church’s provision of poor relief was of course dependent upon individual giving in the parishes. Until around 1550 all poor relief was voluntary, though both the conservatives and evangelicals made it mandatory in their instructions to their parishioners.169 In fact, the evangelicals’ rhetoric in persuading individuals to make contributions to the poor occasionally crossed the evangelical line of justification by faith alone. As Brigden has observed, while the evangelicals denied any merit in giving charity to the poor, their repeated emphasis in print and in sermons on the rewards of giving to the poor was paradoxical.170 Evangelicals who communicated this mixed message include Henry Brinklow, Robert Crowley, and Thomas Becon.171 On at least four occasions Becon went so far as to intimate that those who displayed mercy to the poor would be rewarded with physical health, prosperity, and even everlasting life. For instance, ‘Mercye therfore and almes is a precious thinge in the sighte of God and ought to be exercised of the faithful. For mercye delyvereth from death clense the sin, and causeth to find everlasting life’.172 This and other similar pleas from Becon and other evangelicals reveal urgency, but they are problematic in the way the evangelical doctrine of salvation becomes vague. In addition to preaching and teaching on poor relief, collections for the poor were received in various churches and in some churches the priest or minister would use aggressive means in coercing the parishioners to give.173 As poverty became a growing issue from 1551 to 1553, both Parliament and the churches implemented a number of initiatives to decrease vagrancy and raise monies for poor relief. People appeared to become more compassionate judging by the increase of individual contributions to the hospitals and poor houses in London and the 166 167 168 169 170 171 172

McIntosh, Poor relief in England, p. 13. Brigden, London and the Reformation, p. 476. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. A7v–A8r. McIntosh, Poor relief in England, p. 12. Brigden, London and the Reformation, p. 482. Brinklow, Lamentacyon of a Christe[n], sig. A4r. Thomas Becon, A fruitful treatise of fasting (London: John Day, 1551) STC 1722, sig. H3r. See also Becon, Fruitful treatise of fasting, sigs. G8v, H3r; Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. B3v–B4r. 173 McIntosh, Poor relief in England, p. 12.

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legacies given to the poor around 1550.174 Among London residents whose wills were proved in the Commissary Court during Edward’s reign, half of the wills had left money to the poor. This was a substantial increase compared to the last years of Henry’s reign when about one-third of the wills had bequeathed money to the poor.175 Parish churches began taking on a more active role in the community in exercising poor relief. Parishes began apprenticing children in honest labor and caring for children, protecting them from others who would exploit them as prostitutes.176 Some churches began caring for their own mothers and children. For instance, St Stephen Walbrook paid Mistress Warfelie in 1573 to care for an orphan until that child could be admitted to Christ’s hospital. St Stephen also paid for a caretaker to assist a pregnant mother on bed rest and to care for that mother’s young infant.177 Both Parliament and the churches in London increased their efforts in curbing vagrants by instructing children in virtue and work. Becon and other commonwealth writers repeatedly condemned idleness and advocated honest labor. The appeals for social change seemed to have influenced Parliament. Edward issued letters patent in 1553, which called for the education of children in virtue for the good of the commonwealth.178 The biblical model of charity that Becon used twice was the example of Dorcas, a seamstress, in Acts 9.179 He also urged his readers to ‘folow and practise’ the examples of Christ, Mary, the apostles, and the martyrs, all of whom ‘escaped not the harde dart of poverty’.180 Furthermore, in a series of prayers in Flour of godly praiers, he described the appropriate attitudes and acts of benevolence that people were to perform for the poor. He insisted that both physical and spiritual nourishment were crucial to the welfare of the poor in the community. It was the minister’s duty to see that this was accomplished so that ‘thy pore people may be fed both body and soule’.181 In his ‘general praier for all Magistrates’, he prayed, ‘Make them [the magistrates] gentle[,] frendly, lovinge and beneficiall to their inferiours. Make them pytyfull unto the myserable, and liberal unto the pore. Graunt that they maye rule iustly, seke iudgment, deliver the oppressed, defende the fatherless[,] comfort the widow’.182 In his prayer for bishops, he indicated that they were to use their money ‘wyllyngelye to spend it amonge them [the pa-

174 175 176 177 178 179

Brigden, London and the Reformation, pp. 480–481. Brigden, London and the Reformation, p. 481 Schen, Charity, p. 95. Schen, Charity, p. 95. Schen, Charity, p. 94. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. R5v; Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. K2r; Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. A5v. 180 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. T4r. 181 Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. E2v. 182 Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sigs. D4r–v.

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rishioners] in maintening hospitality for the relief of the pore’.183 They were also to show pastoral empathy toward their own poor parishioners, ‘to comfort the pore of the parish’.184 In a ‘prayer to be sayd before Dynner’, Becon indicated again the specific actions that were to be performed for the destitute. He insisted that people who were blessed with resources share their wealth with those who were impoverished. He asked God that people would ‘never forgette our neadi brethren’ and that ‘we again may shew merci and kindnes to our pore neighbours by distrybuting to them part of these thy gifts [drinke and cloth]’.185 In a ‘prayer to Gentlemenne’, he indicated that men were to ‘not [be] enemies to the pore, but ayders, helpers, and comforters of them’.186 Landlords, likewise, were to ‘relief the pore’.187 Becon was more specific in his ‘praier for Richemen’ as he elaborated that they were to ‘liberalli and cherefulli bestow part of such goodes as thou hast committed unto them upon their pore neighbors’.188 It does not appear that Becon advocated the type of godly communism that Clement Armstrong, Henrician politician and religious eclectic, had argued for in the 1530s.189 Instead of a communal sharing of one’s resources with the poor, Becon promoted a community of generosity in giving to the poor. John Ponet also discouraged the redistribution of worldly goods.190 Instead, Christians were to ‘geve almes to the pore, according to his hability’.191 In 1551 Becon instructed his readers to perform poor relief in a unique way. In A fruitful treatise of fasting, published in 1551 and the first work in the English language addressing the practice of fasting, he defended his view that one of the uses of fasting was to ‘give unto the pore and hongry’.192 He gave explicit instructions to abstain from all foods except bread and water and to set apart the unconsumed food on that day for the poor. The only proof he provided for this was from the non-canonical patristic letter, The Shepherd of Hermas. While Becon did maintain that fasting still had an internal, devotional purpose for the individual, he was unique in teaching that there was an obligatory, external aspect 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190

Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. E1v. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. E1v. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. C6r. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. E5r. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. E5v. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. E8v. Shagan, ‘Clement Armstrong and the godly commonwealth’, p. 80. John Ponet, A short catechisme, or playne instruction, conteynynge the su[m]me of Christian learninge (London: John Day, 1553) STC 4812, sig. M4v. 191 Ponet, Catechisme, sig. M4v. 192 Becon, Fruitful treatise of fasting, sig. H1v; Alec Ryrie, ‘The fall and rise of fasting in the British Reformations’ in Natalie Mears and Alec Ryrie (eds), Worship and the Parish Church in Early Modern Britain (Aldershot, 2013), pp. 94–95.

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of fasting. Further, what was striking about Becon’s teaching on fasting is that before 1550, most evangelicals strongly argued that Christians were not obligated to practice fasting because of its association with the Catholic church and that it tended toward hypocrisy.193 While individuals made contributions to the poor in various ways, churches in London also responded to the evangelicals’ exhortations to give to the poor using different methods. Financial account ledgers were included in the church minute books and reveal some meticulous bookkeeping among some churches. Not all churches recorded their poor relief in their minute books, and those that did had their own unique methods of recording. While some books contain elaborate, meticulously organised charts, other books simply record the recipients’ names and the given amount in two columns. For example, in 1563 Saint Saviour Southwark carefully listed the names of the donors with their respective contributions in pounds and pennies, while other record books did not detail donors’ names.194 The same church record book categorised the amounts of monies by money collected for the poor from donors in the church, sums disbursed weekly with the names of the poor obtaining relief, monies received from the poor chest and communion board, legacies to the poor, and fines for offences during the service which were subsequently designated for the poor. The recipients of poor relief were diverse and varied and depended upon the location and social level within a respective ward. Not all churches designated the occupations of their recipients, but Saint Saviour Southwark indicated that most of the male recipients were fishmongers, a fact that corresponds with the wards’ location on the South Bank adjacent to the Thames. Some ledgers made a clear distinction between internal giving within the church and external giving in the ward. All Hallows Staining and St Bartholomew by the Exchange indicated the monies distributed to the poor outside the parish listed by street name.195 All Hallows Staining gave regularly to Christ’s Hospital and St Margaret Lothbury specifically contributed to the orphans residing in Christ’s Hospital.196

Conclusion The bright prospect of a ‘Christen publique weale’ with a ‘godly’ king on the throne was kept in check by the dire conditions of English society. This viewpoint affected Becon’s writings and accounted for the typical mixture of unbridled 193 194 195 196

Ryrie, ‘The fall and rise of fasting’, pp. 90, 92. LMA, P92 SAV f.1385. LMA, P69 ALH6 C 001 MS16790; LMA, P69 BAT1 B 001 MS04384/001. LMA, P69 MGT1 B 001.

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optimism and dark pessimism over England’s future. Becon did not hesitate to pronounce what he believed would be God’s imminent and certain judgment. His vision of a ‘Christen publique weale’ as a new Israel influenced him to address social issues as a prophet. Did the unexpected, drastic events of 1553 that appeared to be divine judgment vindicate Becon and his fellow evangelicals? Did all their plans and vision for a new Israel go awry or were they merely placed on hold? Was God finished with England or was ‘the tyme of cruell persecution’, as Becon described the Marian years, a divinely appointed respite in which the evangelicals could ponder and recast their vision with renewed verve? Would Northumberland’s regime be as accommodating for the evangelicals as Somerset’s was and would reforms continue? With the future of evangelicalism in doubt the evangelicals went on the offensive during Northumberland’s rule, consumed by a spirit of prophecy.

Chapter 4. The evangelicals and gender in the ‘common weale’

This chapter will investigate a largely underdeveloped aspect of English Reformation studies: gender roles among the evangelical community in Reformation England. I will argue that Becon viewed the roles and activity of women as crucial to the success of the English ‘common weale’. Becon’s frequent mention of women, their roles in their various spaces, biblical female models, and his own interactions with women warrants a closer investigation of his views of women and his use of gendered language in his writings. While most scholars have concluded that early modern evangelical preachers in the English Reformation restricted women within the church and society, Becon’s writings reveal quite another perspective, one that has been almost entirely overlooked. This chapter will revisit a very important discussion and will seek to correct the notion that all early modern English evangelicals equally viewed women as ‘vessels’.1 Within this volatile social and political context, Becon and other evangelicals ministered in their respective parishes and composed tracts expressing their frustration with English politics and addressed men’s and women’s roles in a troubled ‘common weale’.

Becon’s view of women What were the roles of women in the English commonwealth during the early part of the English Reformation and how did they develop as the Reformation took shape? How did the evangelical clergy address issues pertaining to women and what models of piety were held up for women to follow? How did women respond to the evangelical doctrines and teachings regarding their gender? These are some

1 Christine Peters, Patterns of piety: Women, gender and religion in late medieval and Reformation England (Cambridge, 2009), p. 197.

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of the important questions that recent scholars have attempted to answer.2 Unfortunately, most of the works addressing the subject devote attention to the Elizabethan era, leaving a sizeable gap in gender studies between 1540 and 1558. Most scholars have concluded that early modern English women were restricted in their roles and were relegated to a life of domesticity and submission to their husbands. For instance, Christine Peters has argued that women were viewed as mere ‘vessels’ and were associated with weakness. Consequently, both single and married women were to be submissive and humble. Female piety, she has concluded, is tantamount to physical and emotional weakness.3 Likewise, Amanda Flather has noted that women’s space in early modern England demonstrated that evangelicals imposed limitations upon women. Domestic, sacred, and social spaces inhibited women from having true expression of themselves.4 Other scholars have pointed out the restrictions on women in working outside the home or practising charity and poor relief in the community.5 While it is true that most evangelical teachings on gender roles tend to highlight the ‘submissive’ role of women, another perspective is rarely considered. Becon’s view of women challenges recent historians who have suggested that all evangelicals restricted women to their domestic space. Melissa FrankinHarkrider has taken a minority position in the gender debate and has argued that early modern English evangelical women were more involved in church and social life than has been portrayed. While most historians have focused their attention on evangelical women from upper class circles including the royal court and the female ‘sustainers’ during the Marian persecution, it is important to note that the ‘sustainers’ during the Henrician and Edwardian reigns made substantial contributions. Harkrider has noted that many ‘common’ evangelical women contributed financially and emotionally to it.6 ‘Sustainers’, like Mary Glover whom Becon interacted with during his domestic exile in the Midlands, developed close friendships with aristocratic, evangelical women.7 This type of activity 2 Amanda Flather, Gender and Space in Early Modern England (Woodbridge, 2007); Melissa Franklin Harkrider, Women, reform and community in early modern England (Woodbridge, 2008); Felicity Heal, Hospitality in Early Modern England (Oxford, 1990); Chaoluan Kao, Reformation of Prayerbooks: The Humanist Transformation of Early Modern Piety in Germany and England (Göttingen, 2018); Michele Osherow, Biblical Women’s Voices in Early Modern England (Aldershot, 2009); Christine Peters, Patterns of piety: Women, gender and religion in late medieval and Reformation England (Cambridge, 2003); Steve Rappaport, Worlds within worlds: structures of life in sixteenth-century London (Cambridge, 1989); Clarie S. Schen, Charity and Lay Piety in Reformation London (Aldershot, 2002). 3 Peters, Patterns of piety, p. 197. 4 Flather, Gender and Space, pp. 141–143. 5 Kao, Reformation of Prayerbooks, p. 143; Rappaport, Worlds within worlds, p. 40; Schen, Charity and Lay Piety, pp. 241–245. 6 Harkrider, Women, reform and community, p. 61. 7 Harkrider, Women, reform and community, p. 62.

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demonstrated that these women did have liberty and some authority outside their domestic space. They were not merely restricted to quiet, ‘submissive’ roles. Evangelical women were empowered in their sexual and spiritual identity by the church’s teachings. They were convinced that they were part of the ‘elect’, ‘heiresses’ in Christ’s kingdom, and ‘mothers’ and ‘sisters’ in the family of God. And evangelical men affirmed them in this belief, referring to Christian women as ‘sisters’.8 Further, Michele Osherow has observed that the Bible liberated evangelical women to not only discover their true identity, but to fully express themselves in a society that imposed restrictions upon their sex.9 The writings of evangelical clergy such as Becon have demonstrated that evangelical women were not scorned or looked down on with disdain as Schen, Flather, and Peters have stressed. The clergy respected them, and they took on unofficial, yet significant roles both in the church and community. Evangelical women developed close friendships and connections with evangelical men and women alike through written and verbal correspondence. They sponsored sermons, supported evangelical men who were incarcerated, and delivered correspondence from the incarcerated ministers to their parishioners.10 They even directly engaged in theological debates, openly expressing their disapproval in writing, including debates on the Mass.11 All these functions and activities were paramount to what Becon encouraged for a thriving Christian ‘common weale’. Becon’s interactions with and references to specific evangelical women corroborate the influence women had upon the church and the ‘common weale’. Becon viewed evangelical women as crucial to the health of the English ‘common weale’. The fact that Becon dedicated five of his tracts to women demonstrated his respect and gratitude for them [see figure 4.1]. Figure 4.1 Becon’s tracts dedicated to women Title The governaunce of vertue

Dedicatee Lady Jane Seymour

Year 1538

A newe pathway unto praier

Lady Anne Grey

1542

The castell of comforte

Mary Fitzroy, duchess of Richmond

1549

The flour of godly praiers

Anne Seymour, duchess of Somerset

1550

The pomaunder of prayer

Lady Anne of Cleves

1561

8 9 10 11

Harkrider, Women, reform and community, pp. 62–63. Osherow, Biblical Women’s Voices, pp. 4–9. Harkrider, Women, reform and community, pp. 64–66. Harkrider, Women, reform and community, p. 73.

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In his dedicatory remarks to all five women, all of whom would have been ‘sustainers’ due to their considerable wealth and position in society, Becon lavished praise for their ‘godliness’ and ‘vertue’. For instance, he commended Mary Fitzroy for her ‘excedynge love and fervent zele toward the woorde of God’.12 Fitzroy apparently was an active sponsor of sermons.13 His ‘small and slender’ gift to Anne Seymour, wife of Protector Somerset, was with gratitude for her ‘lyberalytye’ to him. Becon described her as a ‘worthye patrones boothe of the godlye and of godlynesse’ with a ‘gentle nature and godlye dysposycon’.14 The duchess had garnered a reputation for being a staunch supporter and protector of evangelicals even, according to John Bale, clandestinely assisting Anne Askew during the latter’s investigations for her ‘heretical’ views.15 These dedicatory commendations demonstrated Becon’s strong approval in female piety and godly activity within the evangelical community. Beyond Becon’s dedications to women, his writings revealed a pastoral concern for women both within and without his parish. Becon was not the only minister aware of female concerns as more and more evangelical clergy began addressing marriage, motherhood, childbirth, and sexuality.16 For example, Becon showed a particular interest in mothers and motherhood, even before he himself was married. In his Flour of godly praiers, he petitioned the Lord to bless expectant mothers, ‘to geve them safe deliveraunce of theyr burden, by thys meanes makyng them glad and ioyfull mothers’.17 He made references to women in their domestic space by describing a mother’s role in her home. For example, in explaining the importance of diligent work for the good of the ‘common weale’, he granted mothers equal importance to tailors, schoolmasters, shoemakers, and merchants.18 Another trend of evangelical writing in the early 1550s was the use of gendered language in spiritual metaphors and examples for the purpose of instruction.19 Evangelical men did not hesitate about utilising feminine metaphors to communicate spiritual truths. The added benefit of doing so was that it appealed to both men and women in the church. Latimer incorporated gendered language, comparing faith to a ‘noble duchess’.20 Becon favoured feminine terms that appealed to the commons, such as personifying repentance as ‘the mother of 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

Thomas Becon, The castell of comforte (London: John Day, 1549) STC 1712, sig. A7v. Harkrider, Women, reform and community, p. 64. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, Preface, sigs. 13v–14r. Retha M. Warnicke, ‘Anne Seymour’, ODNB (accessed 30 April 2014); Diane Watt, ‘Anne Askew’, ODNB (accessed 30 April 2014). Harkrider, Women, reform and community, p. 69. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sigs. H8r–v. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. L3r–v. Harkrider, Women, reform and community, pp. 70–71. Harkrider, Women, reform and community, p. 70.

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mercye, the maystres of vertues’.21 Faith and humility were ‘the mother and nourse of all godly workes’.22 Biblical female models of piety became a common feature in evangelical literature in the 1540s and 1550s. Osherow has shown that the impact of the women of the Bible upon early modern English culture was significant. These biblical models, she contends, encouraged early modern women to break their silence and express themselves verbally. While they were constrained by cultural expectations, the biblical models liberated them to have a voice.23 Both men and women alike in early modern England freely elevated biblical women as models.24 Because biblical models were considered authoritative and instructional, they gave authority to the writer using them. While women’s speech was certainly frowned upon by the majority, it was difficult to dismiss what the Bible taught and recorded.25 The biblical model of Deborah, in particular, became a favourite for early modern women in celebrating strength and power in womanhood. It also served as a vehicle in criticising the weakness of men.26 Deborah also became a model for judging and critiquing the world around them.27 Deborah, in essence, represented the critical feminine voice. Becon frequently employed biblical female models for evangelical women. Though he never used the model of Deborah, his biblical models stressed female piety and godliness. Becon used several biblical women as models including Esther, Anna, Lydia, and Dorcas, but the two female models of piety he used more frequently than anyone else were ironically from the Apocrypha: Susanna and Judith. These two he held forth as models of ‘vertue’. He prayed that women be kept morally pure, following the model of the ‘most vertuous’ and ‘most godly and chast woman’ Susanna.28 He also specifically pointed his readers to Susanna as a model of how and when to pray.29 Becon’s references to and use of Judith as a model of godliness surpassed his use of Susanna. Beginning in his Henrician works, Becon continued to hold Judith forth as an example of godliness, particularly for her prayer and fasting, 21 Thomas Becon, A Christmas bankette (London: Mayler and Gough, 1542) STC 1713, sig. E7v. 22 Thomas Becon, Davids harpe ful of moost delectable armony (London: Mayler and Gough, 1542) STC 1717, sigs. B5r, B8r; Thomas Becon, A pleasaunt newe nosegaye (London: Mayler and Gough, 1543) STC 1742, sigs. D1r, D5r, E5v. 23 Osherow, Biblical Women’s Voices, pp. 4–5. 24 Osherow, Biblical Women’s Voices, p. 8. 25 Osherow, Biblical Women’s Voices, p. 9. 26 Osherow, Biblical Women’s Voices, p. 78. 27 Osherow, Biblical Women’s Voices, p. 95. 28 Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. Q8r; Thomas Becon, The governaunce of vertue (London: John Day, 1566) STC 1727, sigs. A5v, P3r. 29 Thomas Becon, A newe pathway unto praier (London: Mayler and Gough, 1542) STC 1734, sigs. F1v, K5r.

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until his last works.30 Evangelical and non-evangelical writers alike in early modern England repeatedly hailed Judith as a female model of piety, and Judith became a national heroine for women.31 Osherow has noted that Judith was ubiquitous in late Elizabethan literature, appearing in dramas, poems, and sonnets and her presence in the literary world continued to the end of the 17th century. However, what is absent in Osherow’s study is the role that Judith played in both evangelical and non-evangelical literature as early as the 1540s. Judith’s appearance this early in early modern English literature is striking and demonstrates that the earliest writers like Becon, John Bale, James Brooks, Robert Burdet, Robert Crowley, John Frith, and Erasmus, to name just a few, were responsible for raising her as a model. Crowley used Judith in the same way Elizabethan writers used Deborah to highlight male weakness and corruption, specifically male leadership. Addressing the members of Parliament in the context of the 1549 uprisings, Crowley predicted that ‘Iudith shal cut of al your hedes on after another’.32 Such a statement had overtones of sedition, suggesting that Edward was a weak king who needed to be replaced by a strong woman. In addition to the numerous references to Judith’s prayer and fasting, Becon also specifically elevated her as a model for widows who ‘putteth her trust in God, and continueth in supplications and prayers day and night’.33 Becon’s most extensive use of Judith occurred in The reliques of Rome, where he contrasted the godliness of Judith with that of the ‘Anckers and Anckresses’, an order in the Catholic church who claimed Judith as their patroness.34 In light of Becon’s numerous models of female piety, some have argued that these examples prove that women were relegated to only acts of devotion such as prayer and fasting. The argument continues that clergy portrayed early modern men not as ones who prayed or performed acts of devotion, but as those who managed their household or performed their daily work.35 This reasoning has been based upon the fact that there was very little devotional language in the eulogies of pious men. Some conclude that individual godliness developed according to the distinctions of gender.36 The woman’s domestic space sheltered her from worldly affairs and, hence, worldliness, enabling her to be ‘godly’. However, the evangelicals’ teaching that both men and women equally had ob30 Thomas Becon, A fruitful treatise of fasting (London: John Day, 1551) STC 1722, sigs. B4v, C6v, H4v; Thomas Becon, The new pollecye of warre (London: Mayler and Gough, 1542) STC 1735, sigs. J8v; Becon, Newe pathway unto praier, sigs. B7v, E5v, F1r, K4v, L6v. 31 Osherow, Biblical Women’s Voices, pp. 150–154; Peters, Patterns of piety, pp. 249–251. 32 Crowley, Way to wealth, sig. B7v. 33 Thomas Becon, The principles of Christian Religion (London: John Day, 1569) STC 1753, sig. L6r. 34 Thomas Becon, The relikes of Rome (London: John Day, 1560) STC 1754, sigs. J4v–J5v. 35 Peters, Patterns of piety, p. 198. 36 Peters, Patterns of piety, p. 200.

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ligations to practice private devotion counters this argument. Becon’s exhortations to pray and fast were actually addressed not only to women, but men as well, his lists of biblical models of piety including both men and women. It has already been demonstrated that Becon was concerned with the piety of men including political and spiritual leaders as well as the commons. Furthermore, Becon used biblical female models in his teaching on poor relief and his incorporation and specific application of these models were unique among evangelicals, serving as a corrective to recent scholarship on both restrictive female piety and gendered poor relief. As has been already stated, early modern women in England have been generally portrayed as limited in their roles in society, particularly in giving poor relief and face-to-face charity. Becon’s models of poor relief included both biblical men and women. Though he used Abraham, Job, and Jesus as examples of poor relief, Becon directed much more attention to Lydia and Dorcas.37 Becon used Lydia to stress the importance of domestic hospitality to fellow evangelicals, particularly clergy. The Lydia model was not only for women in their domestic space, but for men as well. That a female model should be used for both men and women to follow reveals much about Becon’s esteem for women. The Lydia model taught that ‘menne and women’ should possess Lydia’s ‘affeccion toward the Preachers’.38 On the other hand, Dorcas became the model to motivate women to be directly involved in poor relief. Dorcas was ‘an example worthi to be folowed of our Gentle women and Ladyes now a dayes’ for the ‘preparynge [of] garmentes for the poore’.39 Becon even specified that women were to administer poor relief to both ‘Christen Brethren and systern’, a powerful point which cannot be overlooked. From a spatial perspective, it appears that Becon was assuming a woman’s domestic space in serving the poor by making clothes in her home and inviting the poor within her space. But by specifying ‘Christen Brethren’, the model of Dorcas suggested a social space outside the domestic, perhaps even face-to-face charity with men, in actually directly delivering the items to the poor on the street. If Becon was indeed advocating this, his teaching seriously challenges recent scholarship indicating that women in London did not engage directly in poor relief on the streets, at least until the late sixteenth century.40 While it is difficult to know how much face-to-face charity was transpiring among evangelical women, it is clear that Becon was encouraging women to give to the poor in some way, most likely outside their domestic space. This specific point contests Peters’

37 38 39 40

For biblical male models see Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. A3v–A4v. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. A5v–A6r. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. A5v–A6r. Schen, Charity, p. 244.

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contention that women were restricted to a domestic, internal piety. Becon saw no such restriction in female piety. In this Becon was radical even for evangelicals. The church record books of some London churches during the early modern period provide some insight in gendered poor relief. These financial record books give a picture of a diverse, wide gender spectrum of the donors and recipients of poor relief, illustrating that the geographical location of the church and the social strata of a respective ward were directly related. For instance, in 1563, the account book of Saint Saviour Southwark records that nearly all thirtyfour of the recipients of poor relief were women.41 The 153 donors, on the other hand, were all men with the exception of one ‘Elizabeth’. The church of All Hallows Staining provides another perspective of gendered poor relief. From 1574 to 1587, the church gave financially to around ten individuals annually within the church, of whom an average of eight were women. Of those eight, two or three were designated as widows.42 Outside the church, 51 individuals in the ward received financial contributions, almost entirely men. Similar patterns also occurred at St Margaret Lothbury in 1572 and at St Bartholomew by the Exchange in 1579.43 One common and curious feature of all the account books is the deliberate designation of widows with a marking of ‘widow’ or ‘wydo’ listed before the respective name. Schen has argued that widows made up most of the ‘deserving’ poor on churches’ record books.44 The account books of some London churches, however, reveal that more men than women received charity. While widows were one group of the female recipients of poor relief, the other non-widows were typically wives abandoned by their husbands.45 These figures are too varied and diverse to draw general conclusions.

Gender and female identity in the Marian ‘common weale’ As mentioned previously, gender studies on the English Reformation have primarily focused on the roles that women played during the reign of Elizabeth, particularly the latter half of her reign. While there have been some brief, general observations on Henrician and Edwardian women, historians have largely ignored the daily lives and pressures of Marian and early Elizabethan women. And as has already been observed, most works on gender studies during the Refor41 42 43 44 45

LMA, P92 SAV f.1385. LMA, P69 ALH6 C 001, MS16790. LMA, P69 MGT1 B 001; LMA, P69 BAT1 B 001 MS04384/001. Schen, Charity, p. 118. Schen, Charity, p. 10.

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mation have interpreted the evangelicals’ teaching on women as ‘misogyny’.46 These restricted roles of women, historians have argued, encouraged women to pursue godliness within their own domestic spaces.47 It has been argued that even acts of piety such as poor relief and hospitality were restricted to a woman’s domestic sphere.48 However, the writings of evangelicals in exile continue the esteem of women as shown in their writings during Edward’s reign. While early modern evangelicals have typically been portrayed as patriarchal and critical of women, the Marian evangelicals became the defenders of women, not only on their own side of the religious conflict, but also all women who were the victims of violence. This ability to ‘cross into enemy territory’ and address an issue that also involved Catholic women demonstrated that the evangelicals could focus on universal issues outside the realm of religious debate. While an evaluation of gender identity in Mary’s reign is necessary and insightful, it must be considered in the larger context of the ever-shifting religious changes in Tudor England from around 1547 to 1600. Doing so will allow the important, yet still underdeveloped subject of Marian women to fit properly in the larger jig-saw puzzle that is Tudor gender studies. Becon and other evangelicals were advocates of women in their tracts due to contemporary issues in England. Whereas their Edwardian writings stressed the roles and functions of women in society, their focus in their Marian and early Elizabethan works was one of condemnation of men who either neglected women or who committed sexual violence against women. Historians have been curiously silent on this particular aspect of Marian society. Marian women who were martyrs or sustainers of martyrs have been brought to scholarly attention in recent years. However, contempt of women and domestic violence against them in Marian society warrants closer scrutiny. Helen Parish and David Loades have acknowledged that there was a tendency of men in Marian society to have a denigrated view of women and to blame women for men’s sexual violence against them.49 It appears that the relatively large number of deprivations of married clergy in early 1554 corresponded with the number of cases of domestic violence against women in the subsequent months and years.50 In London alone there were about 150 beneficed clergy who were deprived of their positions in early 1554, almost all of those being married.51 46 Arthur F. Marotti, Religious ideology and cultural fantasy: Catholic and anti-Catholic discourses in early modern England (South Bend: University of Notre Dame Press, 2005), pp. 36– 37. 47 Flather, Gender and Space, pp. 141–143; Peters, Patterns of piety, p. 200. 48 Rappaport, Worlds within worlds, p. 40; Schen, Charity and Lay Piety, pp. 241–245. 49 Parish, Clerical marriage, p. 222; Loades, Religious Culture of Marian England, pp. 69–70. 50 Parish, Clerical marriage, pp. 189–192; Wizeman, ‘Religious Policy of Mary I’, p. 155. 51 Loades, Religious Culture of Marian England, pp. 75–76.

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One area of concern for the evangelicals regarding these deprivations was the neglect of and insensitivity toward women whose marriages with their husbands were deemed invalid. With his characteristic strong language Becon berated the clergy who accepted the terms of deprivation, rebuking them for being unfaithful to their wives. They were ‘tymelinges’ for ‘serving rather the time (as the manner of the worldlinges is) than maryeng in thy feare’. Becon further described these husbands as false ‘evangelical’ clergy, and Parish has noted the connection between clerical marriage and commitment to the Reformation was not always a guaranteed fact.52 These husbands were also ‘faynteharted’ for publicly confessing their ‘unlawful’ marriages.53 And they were ‘fylthye dogges whiche are returned unto their vomite’ for ‘promis[ing] that they will nevermore come in their wyfes company but from hensforth lyve like good and catholike men accordinge to the order of their holy priesthoode’.54 John Old expressed sorrow for women whose husbands divorced them in order to keep their clerical positions. He condemned those husbands for ‘breaking the inseperable knotte and bonde of lawful mariage, forsaking and casting of their wyves: wherby it is evident, that their intent was only to cover their fleshely hoorishe [sic] lustes with the clooke of mariage’.55 John Ponet described the ‘inconvenience’ of the women who were divorced in being treated as ‘whores’ and having to remarry and reestablish their families.56 Women were permitted to remarry, but many of them understandably desired to stay with their husbands even though their husbands accepted deprivation.57 In some cases, the priests secretly visited their former wives.58 While the provisions of clerical deprivation did promise leniency to the wives as well as providing some financial support, it was still little comfort to them with the disruption of their lives and, in some cases, their children’s lives.59 But there was also concern for the wives whose husbands chose to be expelled from their positions and to remain with their wives. Mary’s legislation regarding the deprivation of married clergy did not contain any financial provisions or

52 Parish, Clerical marriage, pp. 198–200. 53 For the public confession and renunciation of the marriage of Robert Holgate, archbishop of York, see TNA, SP 11/6f.131. For other examples of public confessions and renunciations of marriages, see Parish, Clerical marriage, pp. 209–210. 54 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. C4v. 55 John Old, A confession of the most auncient and true christe[n] catholike olde belefe (Emden: Egidius van der Erve, 1556) STC 18798, sig. E1v. 56 John Ponet, An apologie fully aunsweringe by Scriptures and aunceant doctors (Strasbourg: W. Kèopfel, 1556) STC 20175a, sigs. B5r–v. 57 Parish, Clerical marriage, p. 222. 58 Parish, Clerical marriage, p. 205; TNA, PC 2/7f.487. 59 Parish, Clerical marriage, p. 222.

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support for the clergy or their wives who refused to divorce.60 Becon expressed dismay at what he believed was insensitivity toward not only the men, but he also specifically pitied ‘theyr poore wyffes withe their yonge Childeren [who] are not only brought to the state of poverte but also unto extrem beggeri without hous or harbour without meat, drynk & clothe’.61 While evangelical women would obviously be a concern for evangelical writers, Becon and others also expressed consternation for the mistreatment of and violence against Marian women in general. Becon’s primary target when he criticised domestic violence against women was the Catholic clergy. The other evangelical authors followed suit. While the evangelicals’ accusations against the Catholic clergy certainly had a polemical edge to it, they defended women as equally created creatures of God. They condemned the victimisation of women by the tyranny of men. The sheer number of complaints of sexual violence against women calls for a thorough examination. Loades has observed that there were few substantiated incidents of adultery among the clergy during the Marian period. He has argued that many of the accusations of immorality among the Catholic clergy were false accusations or trumped up charges.62 However, he has also admitted that it was quite common for a priest to take a woman as his housekeeper or concubine and conceal her ‘underground’, meaning his adultery could go unnoticed. As Garthine Walker has observed, it is difficult for the historian to determine exact figures of domestic violence against women in England during the early modern era due to the victim not reporting the violence against her for fear of reprisals.63 This issue of silence does pose a serious challenge for interpretation. Especially in cases of rape, silence was a woman’s recourse, for it protected her from shame, gossip, and even censure.64 The line between accusation and reality was admittedly blurred, but as Loades has noted, the number of articles and instructions regarding the morality of Catholic priests in the clerical visitations in 1555 suggests a rampant problem with moral laxness among the Catholic priests.65 The various visitation articles in 1555 listed prohibitions against adultery, sexual misconduct, and attendance at alehouses. In fact, alcoholism was a growing problem with the clergy who needed companionship and, therefore, they frequented the alehouses.66 60 61 62 63

Parish, Clerical marriage, p. 222. Becon, Humble supplicacion, sigs. D1v–D2r. Loades, Religious Culture of Marian England, pp. 69–70. Garthine Walker, ‘Rereading Rape and Sexual Violence in Early Modern England’, Gender & History 10 (1998), pp. 1–25. 64 Garthine Walker, Crime, Gender and Social Order in Early Modern England (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), p. 55. 65 Loades, Religious Culture of Marian England, p. 46. 66 Loades, Religious Culture of Marian England, p. 69.

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Bonner’s 124 Visitation Articles for London Diocese included prohibitions against adultery and attendance at taverns. Article 14 condemned adultery and fornication among the commons, while Article 44 prohibited clergy from having concubines.67 Complete with his trademark, alliterated enumeration, Becon exposed the Catholic clergy for their immorality: But now the wycked Papistes those lecherous lubers, those fylthy fornicatours, these abhominable adulterers, those stynckyng Sodemites, those canckred corruptours of maydes, wyffs, wydowes, those devylyshe despisers of all shamefastnes, chastite and honeste, those monstrous maintainers of all licentious lyvyng, whordome and deshoneste and those synnefull synckes of all fylthy and lothesome abhominacions.68

Old also condemned the mistreatment of women in coerced adulterous relationships with Catholic clergy. He claimed that the laity mistrusted their priests around women: Yet be oure priestes permitted and suffred: nay rather compelled, to make soch wicked and folishe vowes, therwith to mocke the people, that they shuld not mistrust them with their wives, doughters, nor women servantes, because, they saye, they will have no other wyfe but our Lady.69

With condemnation Bradford described the Catholic priests who secretly had prostitutes and would then offer the Eucharist: ‘After masse wil the develishe priest returne, leading the whore home againe, keepe her companie all the daie time, with out exhortacion to repentaunce, and lie with her al the night’.70 John Bale and Christopher Goodman went further in accusing the priests of rape. Bale’s method of accusation was to connect Mary’s reign with sexual immorality in the church. He blamed the regime for the rampant problem of clerical rape. The priests were guilty of ‘abusing other mens wives, and defiling virginity, might occasion the ravishing and defilyng of our wives, daughters and maidens, bi pocky papists’.71 Goodman, also blaming Mary, addressed England and lamented that ‘your wives to be ravished, your mayds deflowred, and children murthered with out mercy’.72 Old attributed rape and all forms of sexual violence committed by Catholic priests to the ‘forbiddinge of mariage, [which] is the self 67 Frere and Kennedy, Visitation Articles, pp. 332–333, 340. 68 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sigs. C4r–v. 69 John Old, A short description of Antichrist unto the nobilitie of Englande (Emden: E. van der Erve, 1555), STC 673, sig. B4v. 70 John Bradford, The copye of a letter, sent by Iohn Bradforth to the Erles of Arundel (Wesel: J. Lambrecht, 1556) STC 3504.5, sig. C2r 71 John Bale, An excellent and a right learned meditacion (Roane, 1554) STC 17773, sig. B2v. Also, see sigs. B3v–B4r. 72 Christopher Goodman, How superior powers oght to be obeyd of their subiects (Geneva: John Crispin, 1558) STC 12020, sig. F7v.

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same doctrine of devels’.73 As a concluding remark on the mistreatment of women, the silence of Catholic authors on the evangelicals’ accusations is peculiar. In all these cases, the evangelicals held the men responsible for their sexual sins and always assumed the women to be victims. However, Loades has noted that in Marian society women were generally blamed for adultery and sexual violence against them, because it was assumed that the women seduced the men.74 The underlying, assumed belief behind these blames was a denigrated view of women. While not all Marian Catholic authors held to an antagonistic view of women, three tracts portrayed women as weak, deceptive, and seductive. This observation is an important corrective to the argument proposed by Arthur Marotti that it was the early modern Protestants, not the Catholics, who used language and metaphors to reinforce in people’s minds the image of women as weak and deceptive.75 Miles Huggarde, a Catholic layman and the Queen’s hosier, vilified women in general and evangelical women in particular in his tract, The displaying of the Protestantes.76 He accused these women of lacking any morals and of seducing the evangelical clergy so that they would marry them: ‘Were not the sayd women ever lerning, and never able to come to the knowlege of the truth, beyng led with divers lustes, using their bodies with other men as well as with their supposed husbandes’.77 While Huggarde acknowledged that there were ‘modest and sobre’ women, he acknowledged that women in general were deceptive: ‘Doutles the weaknes of women is suche, that they be ever prone and ready to mischeif, and to bryng men to their confusion’.78 Huggarde pointed to examples of deceptive women from the Bible: Eve, Delilah, Solomon’s concubines, Jereboam’s wife, and Jezebel. Deceptive women were ‘prancking dames in league with him [the devil], to the ende to bryng men to mischeife’.79 Another tract, composed by an anonymous author, highlighted the weakness of women.80 The author supposedly a Catholic based upon the fact that the tract 73 Old, Short description, sigs. B4r–v. 74 Loades, Religious Culture of Marian England, p. 70. 75 Arthur F. Marotti, Religious ideology and cultural fantasy: Catholic and anti-Catholic discourses in early modern England (South Bend: University of Notre Dame Press, 2005), pp. 36– 37. 76 Wizeman, ‘The Religious Policy of Mary I’, p. 163; Christopher Bradshaw, ‘Miles Huggarde’ in ODNB (accessed 29 April 2016). 77 Miles Huggarde, The displaying of the Protestantes (London: Robert Caly, 1556) STC 13558, sig. J2r. See also sigs. J2r–J3r. 78 Huggarde, Displaying of the Protestantes, sig. J4r. 79 Huggarde, Displaying of the Protestantes, sig. J4v. 80 Anonymous, The deceyte of women, to the instruction and ensample of all men yonge and olde, (London: by [W. Copland for] Abraham Vele, 1557) STC 6451.

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was published in London in 1557. In addition, there were references to attendance at mass, all stated favourably. The tone was very negative and harsh throughout regarding women. It was a collection of stories about women, both contemporary and biblical, who deceived men. Further, the work included seventeen illustrations such as one on the title page that depicted a woman sitting on top of a man’s back whipping him as if he were an animal. Other illustrations include one of Jael hammering Sisera’s head and one of Judith holding the head of Holofernes.81 The author intended these images to convey female deception in a powerful, visual way to warn men. What is striking is that authors, evangelical and Catholic alike, commonly held both Jael and Judith as models of godliness and female strength. What is especially ironic is that Judith was a popular comparison with Mary.82 The anonymous author instead condemned Judith, and immediately stated what became the dominant, repetitive theme of his tract: ‘Who is it that can take hede of the deceyte of women, except he doo utterly abstayne their company, for they be so false and so full of deceyte, that all the hede that a man can take is to lytle’.83 This type of rhetoric, albeit in an extreme way, reinforced the sinfulness of women. Never once did the author qualify his statements, but his conclusions were stated in the universal. The conclusion of the tract made a final appeal to man that ‘he may abstaine the face of women and the conversacyon, theyr company, and beyng wyth them’.84 One final example of literature that portrayed women in a derogatory manner is A lyttle treatyse called the image of idlenesse by a fictitious Oliver Oldwanton. The author of this treatise was Catholic due to references to Catholic piety including a pax. In this dialogue fiction complete with symbolic characters, Walter Wedlocke and Bawdin Bacheler have a conversation, the latter dominating the conversation and representing the author’s views. Bacheler, though unmarried, gave marital advice to Walter, claiming that he was qualified to provide such counsel due to his acute observations of his married friends. Bacheler attempted to correct the popular opinion that women were evil. Men, he said, enjoyed speaking of women’s ‘faultes or doublenes’ and even joking among themselves that the revolution of the planet Venus ‘maketh many women nowe adayes to straye out of order, and minister much occasion of evyll reporte’.85 He defended marriage, arguing that ‘a fayre plesaunt and lovynge wyfe is the greatest treasure and comfort that man may have in earth’.86 81 82 83 84 85

Anonymous, Deceyte of women, sigs. B8v, C7v. Wooding, ‘The Marian Restoration and the Mass’, p. 234. Anonymous, Deceyte of women, sig. C4v. Anonymous, Deceyte of women, sig. I1v. Oliver Oldwanton, A lyttle treatyse called the image of idlenesse (London: William Seres, 1555) STC 25196, sig. A6r. 86 Oldwanton, A lyttle treatyse, sig. E2r.

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While he rejected some of the popular, derogatory images of women in his day, Bacheler ironically reinforced the stereotypical ‘deceptive’ woman through various statements. For instance, he reasoned that women should not be blamed for who they are, but ‘by reason the same is gyven them even of very nature’.87 He further explained that the nature of women was rooted in Eve, who in the Garden of Eden was deceived by the serpent ‘in the similitude and lykenes of a woman’. Therefore, ‘the fraude and mallyce of that spirite, hathe alwayes bin most incident to the same sects, and maketh them naturally inclyned to dissimulation, in constancy, and frowardnes, with a number of other vyces’.88 As if the negative comparison to the deceptive creature in the Garden was not sufficient, Bacheler compared a woman to the nature of a hawk, ‘whose nature of all lyvynge thynges they [women] drawe nerest unto, for the female kynde of them is alway most stubborne, most eger, and moste apte to evyll’. The husband was the ‘Fawkener [who] muste beware that although she chaunce to checke, or to sore awry and range, he may not therfure at her returne misintreate her with any rygoure, but skilfully consideryng the cause’. He was to ‘reforme and wynne her from her wylde and rammishe nature, by polycie and gentlenesse’.89 This kind of rhetoric from Oldwanton, Huggarde, and others expressed a view of women as mere ‘vessels’, inferior to men and in need of reform by and control by them.90 This view had the consequence of stressing single and married women to be submissive and humble. Female piety, therefore, was rooted in physical and emotional weakness.91 However, as has already been discussed earlier in this chapter and the previous one, evangelicals never showed contempt for women nor suggested any weakness in women as their Catholic counterparts did. In fact, Becon and other evangelicals criticised male behaviour and blamed men, not women, for immoral relationships. The evangelicals held women in high esteem as demonstrated by their repeated expressions of honor for women, positive biblical female models, and severe condemnations of those who mistreated women. The common denominator of all three tracts was a discussion of the Fall in the Garden of Eden, each stressing Eve’s deception in the account and linking it to the present-day nature of women. As Christine Peters has observed, details of the Fall in English Reformation literature are quite rare.92 But when the Fall was mentioned, there was a tendency by both evangelicals and Catholics to downplay 87 88 89 90

Oldwanton, A lyttle treatyse, sig. D8r. Oldwanton, A lyttle treatyse, sig. D8r. Oldwanton, A lyttle treatyse, sigs. E2r–v. Christine Peters, Patterns of piety: Women, gender and religion in late medieval and Reformation England (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), p. 197. 91 Peters, Patterns of piety, p. 197. 92 Peters, Patterns of piety, p. 296.

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Eve’s role in the affair. Peters attributes this tendency to the patriarchal spirit of the day and the emphasis on the father’s responsibility for the religious state of his family.93 This Adam-centred interpretation of the Fall, she argues, was based upon the Apostle Paul’s teachings in Romans in the context of justification by faith.94 With an interest by the evangelicals in Paul’s doctrine of justification and, specifically, the Adam-Christ relationship in Romans 5, the responsibility for human sin shifted to Adam from the medieval view of co-responsibility of both Adam and Eve.95 Peters avers that this Adam-Christ emphasis was an inherent result of men’s derogatory view of women.96 However, John Bradford’s position undermines Peters ‘argument. For instance, Bradford charged both Adam and Eve as equally at fault for their disobedience.97 While Bradford later in his treatise did focus on Adam as the primary one responsible for the Fall, he was adhering to the Adam-Christ context of Romans 5.98 By suggesting co-equal responsibility, Bradford was not attributing the Fall to one individual. Peters also fails to consider the three Catholic tracts previously mentioned. While Peters interprets what she deems was the Reformation view of the male responsibility for sin as having a negative impact on Reformation women, the three Catholic tracts promoting female responsibility for sin certainly do not portray women in a positive light. All three authors adhered to the medieval Catholic view of the Fall in stressing the deceptive nature of Eve in causing Adam to fall. Adam, not Eve, was the helpless victim of the Fall, and man, therefore, was not held responsible for sin. The other significant point of discussion in the narrative of the Fall is the depiction of the serpent’s gender, for it further demonstrates authors’ views of gender responsibility for sin. Peters has noted that the medieval understanding of the serpent was that it impersonated the devil, and that it was depicted with a human female head.99 While it was acknowledged that the serpent was male, the female head represented seduction and deception, and those traits were transferred to women in general in what Peters describes as ‘medieval misogyny’. But the Reformation depiction of the serpent was generally one without any human features, and if there were any features, they would be masculine. The exception that Peters points out is the Great Bible of 1537 where the illustration of Genesis 3 depicts the serpent with a female head.100 The neutralisation or masculinisation 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100

Peters, Patterns of piety, p. 298. Peters, Patterns of piety, p. 297. Peters, Patterns of piety, p. 298. Peters, Patterns of piety, p. 298. John Bradford, A sermon of repentaunce (London: John Wight, 1553) STC 3496, sig. D6v. Bradford, Sermon, sigs. F6v–F7r. Peters, Patterns of piety, p. 302. Peters, Patterns of piety, pp. 304–305.

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of the serpent during the Reformation, Peters avers, was linked to the diminishing of female individuality and spiritual influence in English society.101 However, the verbal depiction in Oldwanton’s tract of a female serpent ‘in the similitude and lykenes of a woman’ seems to suggest that this feminisation was not only limited to the serpent’s head, but it included the entire form of the serpent. Also, given the fact that this depiction was in 1555, it was considerably later than when Peters argues the feminisation of the serpent had ceased. The author of the Oldwanton tract was clearly not influenced by the Reformation depictions of a masculine serpent and instead adopted a medieval, Catholic understanding of a female serpent in order to stress female responsibility for sin. Gendered language in Marian evangelical literature also provides further insight as to how men and women were portrayed. As has already been demonstrated in Chapter 3, the evangelicals’ gendered anti-popery metaphors were quite flexible, utilising both male and female metaphors to depict the same concept. The evangelicals’ use of gendered language in their Marian tracts likewise demonstrated versatility in incorporating any gender that best communicated the point that was being made. One way in which this versatility was displayed was by attributing typically female qualities to male individuals. For instance, Becon portrayed God as a mother in his prayer for God’s comfort on his people in England: ‘Comforte hire as the lovyng mothere cherishethe hire tender babes. As a naturall mother can not forgett hire yonge one but that she muste nede have pitie on the childe of hire wombe: Even so o Lord petie thowe the congregacion of England’.102 This ‘feminisation’ of God is of course a positive female metaphor and did not suggest any weakness in God’s nature. Further, there is nothing in the context that suggests that Becon thought of God in the female gender. This example is another one of numerous gendered metaphors used by the evangelicals, and it serves as a corrective to the argument that evangelicals used feminine metaphors only negatively.103 Another intriguing example is Bradford’s elegaic description of Edward VI in which he described the ‘godlye zeale, heroical heart, fatherly care’ of the deceased king. But on the other hand, he observed his ‘norcely solicitude for religion’.104 The commixture of masculine and feminine images here again underscores the versatility of gendered language. Likewise, after 1553 Becon continued his gendered anti-papal rhetoric from his Edwardian tracts. But whereas he frequently used female images to convey spiritual adultery such as ‘whore, strumpet, baud, harlot, sprite’, these terms are 101 Peters, Patterns of piety, p. 304. 102 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. D5r. 103 Peters, Patterns of piety, p. 197; Amanda Flather, Gender and Space in Early Modern England (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 2007), pp. 141–143. 104 Bradford, Sermon, sigs. E2r–v.

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curiously absent in his Marian writings. In fact, he refrained from using any feminine metaphor to refer to the Catholic church. In contrast, Old favoured negative feminisation in his anti-papal metaphors. For instance, the Mass was the ‘bawdiest spiritual hooredome that ever sathan invented to breake faithe, love, and knotte of mariage betwene Christ the husbande, and his spouse the christen flocke’.105 Unlike Old, Becon exclusively portrayed the Catholic church with masculine images that portrayed male sexual sins. While he did use ‘whore’, it was always within a context of other masculine terms. For instance, in an enumeration condemning the church, he depicted the church in terms of male prostitution: ‘spiritual fornicacion and abhominable whordome by that Antichriste of Rome that greate Baal, that stoute Nemroth, that fals prophet, that beast, that whore of Babylon, that sonne of perdicion’.106 This raises the question whether this exclusive use of masculine anti-popery rhetoric was haphazard or calculated on Becon’s part. Because of his strong condemnations of clerical sexual violence against women, there is a strong indication that Becon was deliberately drawing a connection between sexual sins committed by the priests and the spiritual adultery of the Catholic church. This exclusive use of the masculine gender is strikingly unique in evangelical polemic and contests the theory that Marotti and Dolan have put forth, alleging that the evangelicals resorted to only feminine terms and metaphors in their anti-papal rhetoric.107 As a contrasting example of gendered polemic, Miles Huggarde, the Catholic layman, portrayed the evangelicals’ heresy as a ‘common woman called Heresie’.108 Further, the evangelical church was the ‘worldly mother, the parent of synne, and the nourice of iniquite’.109 This negative feminisation of the evangelical church is something rarely discussed in scholarship. As discussed earlier, not only did Huggarde portray women in a critical way as fallen, weak, and seductive, but he also used feminine metaphors to portray negative concepts such as ‘heresie’ and the evangelical church. Huggarde’s disdain for evangelical women is striking and again corrects Marotti’s and Dolan’s accusation of Protestant misogyny.110 Gendered biblical models are another important feature to analyse, for it demonstrates how evangelicals and Catholics alike viewed men and women in society. Unlike the Edwardian period, biblical women did not have as diverse a role in literature. Still, Judith and Jezebel did appear consistently in literature, the 105 Old, Confession, sig. C8v. 106 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. A4v. 107 Marotti, Religious ideology, pp. 36–37; Frances E. Dolan, Whores of Babylon: Catholicism, gender and seventeenth-century print culture (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1999), p. 52. 108 Huggarde, Displaying of the Protestantes, sig. C8r. 109 Huggarde, Displaying of the Protestantes, sig. D3v. 110 Marotti, Religious ideology, pp. 36–37; Dolan, Whores of Babylon, p. 52.

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former becoming the equivalent of Mary Tudor in the eyes of Catholic authors and the latter representing Mary as the wicked queen and worshiper of Baal. Five different evangelical authors either compared Mary to the Old Testament queen or directly called her the ‘Ieasabell’ of England. The most numerous occurrences of the Jezebel model belong to the writings of John Knox and Christopher Goodman. On the other hand, Judith was the model of female heroism and godly rule. Almost every Catholic author compared Mary to ‘Iudith’ with an emphasis on her godliness, such as John Angel’s description of her: it pleased God to ‘sende us a newe Iudith, by whose godlines the trewe light and knowledge of Goddes worde is nowe by her broughte agayne’.111 Angel’s reference to ‘light’ is striking in contrast to Becon’s commentary on Mary’s reign and the ‘darkenes’ that ensued with restoration of Catholicism.112 Though Becon refrained from comparing Mary to any biblical female in his Marian works, he expressed his strong disapproval of Mary. Like other evangelicals, he viewed her as a rod in God’s hand to punish England. She was an ‘evident token of thyne anger toward us Englishmen’.113 Yet he acknowledged that there were women who ruled Israel, insisting that they ‘were for the moste part wicked, ungodly, supersticious and geven to idolatry and to al filthy abhominacion as we may se[e] in the histories of quene Iesabel, quene Athalla, quene Herodias and such like’.114 But Becon’s statement indicated that there were godly females who ruled God’s people. While he did not elaborate upon this in his Marian tracts, elsewhere he raised Deborah, Esther, and Jael as models of godly female rule. In an ironic, and certainly deliberate attack on the way the Catholics used the Judith metaphor for Mary, Ponet used Judith as an example justifying his position on political resistance.115 Judith was one of several examples he used in promoting the concept of political resistance to ‘ungodly’ rule. Beside Judith, Jael was also held up as a model of a godly, strong woman who conquered ungodly rule. Ponet was very explicit and almost prophetic in the way he used Jael as a model of civic disobedience. In citing the book of Judges, he suggested that God was going to deliver England and bring vengeance to the wicked regime of Mary.116 He even positively suggested that God could even use a woman to replace Mary. Was he perhaps suggesting Elizabeth as the heroine Jael? It is doubtful, but nevertheless striking that he would select Jael as a model of political revolt against ungodly rule. 111 John Angel, The agrement of the holye fathers (London: William Hartford, 1555) STC 634, sig. A3r. 112 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. A7v. 113 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. A7r. 114 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. A7r. 115 John Ponet, A shorte treatise of politike power (Strasbourg: W. Köpfel, 1556) STC 20178, sig. I1v. 116 Ponet, Shorte treatise, sig. H6r.

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What is also significant here in the larger historiography of gendered monarchy is that some historians have portrayed Ponet and other exiled evangelicals as antagonistic toward all female rule.117 These historians have ignored the countless examples of biblical female rulers that the evangelicals put forth as positive models, and as in Ponet’s case, argued in favour of godly female rule. By using the models of Judith and Jael of godly female rule and by specifically suggesting that a female ruler could topple Mary’s reign, Ponet was not opposed to female rule. What he was opposed to was ungodly tyranny, be it male or female.118 While Goodman and Knox were adamantly opposed to female rule, the same is not true of Ponet or Becon. In fact, based upon their elevation of biblical female rulers, most evangelicals would have been thrilled with godly female rule as evident in their exuberant reception of Elizabeth as queen.

Conclusion While Becon’s views on women were not entirely unusual for evangelicals, his admonitions for further involvement of women in the church and the ‘common weale’ challenge recent scholarship that suggests that all women were restricted to a domestic space. Becon’s own interactions with and praise of female sustainers of the Reformation in England suggests that he viewed women with respect, esteeming them as allies in the reformation of the commonwealth. His prayers for women in their domestic spheres and various stages of motherhood revealed a pastoral heart for them and a concern for them as ‘sisters’ in the family of God. Becon’s and other evangelicals’ use of biblical models provided instruction for women to pattern their lives after ‘godly’ women. Additionally, the biblical models motivated and liberated women to embrace their sexual identity. Finally, this chapter has argued that Marian evangelicals brought to light and condemned Catholic clergy who mistreated women. Gendered polemical rhetoric and gendered biblical models during the Marian period suggests a highly varied and flexible usage of gendered language rather than one consistent or predictable pattern as is often argued by scholars. This fluidity of language among the English evangelicals points to a multi-faceted view on gender in the commonwealth that is not always easy to pin down. 117 Vern L. Bullough, Brenda Shelton, Sarah Slavin, The Subordinated Sex: A History of Attitudes Towards Women (Athens, Georgia: University of Georgia Press, 1988), p. 172; John Matusiak, Henry VIII: The Life and Rule of England’s Nero (Stroud: History Press, 2013), p. 163; David Andrew Santschi, ‘Obedience and Resistance in England, 1536–1558’ (PhD dissertation, University of Wisconsin, 2008), p. 286; Amanda Shephard, ‘Henry Howard and the Lawful Regiment of Women’, History of Political Thought 12 (1991), pp. 594–595. 118 Hadfield, ‘John Ponet and the People’, p. 245.

Chapter 5. Dangerous print in the ‘common weale’: Prophecies and plagues

As was explored in Chapter 3, Becon’s commonwealth rhetoric was a mixture of both theology and humanism. This chapter will investigate how Becon and other evangelicals navigated their way through the highly complex political scene of the 1549 uprisings and the undercurrent of sedition that continued until 1553. Their political views were part of their ideal of a ‘godly’ commonwealth. Most recent scholarship entirely glosses over the evangelicals’ political rhetoric during the Edwardian era, focusing more on their religious polemic. However, an understanding of the evangelicals’ evolving political rhetoric is crucial in linking their concerns with religious and moral issues. The evangelicals’ political message was a blend of submission and treason and of political allegiance and sedition. As this chapter will demonstrate, the delicate balance between obedience and disobedience was a challenge for evangelicals to maintain. At times, Becon and the evangelicals argued for both at the same time. Perhaps this confused message of allegiance and sedition helped to contribute to the financial and social turmoil that troubled London. The evangelicals found within the Old Testament a blueprint for a godly England. The moral code of the Mosaic Law appealed to the reformers in their quest to promote virtue and establish social order.1 They likened themselves to the Old Testament court prophets, representatives of God, who were commissioned to affect the behaviour of society. They viewed themselves as the counselours to the king, in an unofficial role, to influence the king to bring about religious reform. Like the prophets, they believed that a national reformation included a purging of social injustice and moral corruption. They attempted to bring about change by appealing to the king and his counselours and condemning those who were guilty of social injustice, particularly those who mistreated the poor. They also engaged in a ‘prophetic war’ of print against the ‘false prophets’, those who would oppose the king’s reformation. Finally, true to the 1 For instance, see John Hooper, A declaration of the ten holy co[m]maundementes of allmygthye God (Zurich: Augustin Fries, 1549) STC 13746.

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model of the biblical prophets, they issued calls for national repentance through tracts and sermons. True and lasting reformation was impossible, they argued, if their message of repentance was rejected. London in the early 1550s was plagued with financial and social crises including a dire shortage of food and fuel. London was also the hotbed of iconoclasm, the evangelical book trade, and a high attendance at sermons, indicating a general agreement with the progress of reformation in London.2 Complaints from Londoners against the new Northumberland regime increased. There were constant threats of violence and rebellion in the city in 1550 and 1551. To deal with such ‘sedicion’, Parliament responded with the passing of three royal proclamations threatening those who uttered seditious language against the king.3 Richard Tracy, the evangelical tract writer, was arrested for treason and plotting with Somerset in May 1551.4 Yet other evangelicals like Becon and Robert Crowley kept printing tracts condemning Northumberland’s response to the crises. Calls and hopes for Somerset’s restoration were made throughout 1550, yet to no avail. Somerset was officially charged with conspiracy in October 1551 and executed on 22 January 1552.5 The general public, including the evangelicals, lamented his death.6 Recalling Somerset’s fall in 1554, Becon viewed the plot and fall of Somerset as ‘an evident token of Gods anger agaynste us’.7 The centre of this political crisis took place right in Becon’s own geographical context within the Walbrook ward. Northumberland began living with John York in the Walbrook ward on 6 October 1549.8 York, who was sheriff of London and member of Parliament, had lived in the Walbrook ward since 1546. He may have attended St Stephen Walbrook, Becon’s parish, since he was buried there in 1569. On 9 October 1549, Northumberland and the common council of London met in York’s house to discuss how to proceed against Somerset. The Privy Council continued to do business in York’s house until February 1550. Thomas Pope, another member of Parliament and supporter of Northumberland, also had ties to St Stephen Walbrook and was buried there in 1559.9 The presence of York and Pope in the parish of St Stephen Walbrook may account for Becon’s restrained voice in his two works of 1551 and 1553. Perhaps he was exercising some level of caution with pro-Northumberland supporters in his parish. 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Susan Brigden, London and the Reformation (Oxford, 1989), p. 503–508. James F. Larkin (ed), Tudor Royal Proclamations (New Haven, 1964). Brigden, London and the Reformation, p. 510. Brigden, London and the Reformation, pp. 516–517. Brigden, London and the Reformation, p. 516. Becon, Comfortable epistle, sig. A3r. J. G. Elzinga, ‘John York’, ODNB (accessed 21 March 2016). Clare Hopkins, ‘Thomas Pope’, ODNB (accessed 21 March 2016).

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Prophecies as Political Protest Evangelical print in the early 1550s illustrated the tense, precarious nature of English politics and society. The evangelical tracts of this period virulently attacked the rich gentry and even the king. Both sides hurled charges of ‘sedicion’ at each other, and Parliament issued three royal proclamations condemning sedition. The line between political protest and treason was often blurred and interpretation depended on which side the protest came from and who the judges that presided over sedition trials were.10 This section will consider ‘dangerous’ print produced by the evangelicals in the early 1550s by examining the elements of prophecy and rebel political language. While these two aspects certainly overlapped, each one will be considered separately. Furthermore, each will be treated within the larger context of traitorous and seditious language. One of the dominant features of evangelical writing during the Northumberland era was the use of prophecy as a tool for political protest and the shaping of social policy. The evangelicals’ commonwealth rhetoric and political theology was intricately connected with their view of themselves as prophets. In fact, all their activities and writings must be evaluated with regards to their prophetic roles. While there were prophecies during Somerset’s regime, the rise of prophetic utterances during the Northumberland era is striking. Why did biblical and political prophecies increase during this era? Could it be that the ‘prophets’ were becoming desperate for the establishment of a godly commonwealth? Was prophecy a way to express political protest against Northumberland’s policies? This section will explore the reasons for the increase of prophecies and the nature of those prophecies. It will place those prophecies within the turbulent political and social contexts between 1550 and 1553 by examining the connections between prophecy and political protest. During the past thirty years, there have been scholarly treatments addressing the role of prophecy in politics and polemic in Tudor England.11 However, all of these works examine prophecy from either the Henrician or Elizabethan era, completely overlooking the Ed10 David Cressy, Dangerous Talk: Scandalous, Seditious, and Treasonable Speech in Pre-modern England (Oxford, 2010), p. 55. 11 Katharine R. Firth, The Apocalyptic Tradition in Reformation Britain, 1530–1645 (Oxford, 1979); Alistair Fox, ‘Prophecies and Politics in the Reign of Henry VIII’ in Alistair Fox and John Guy (eds), Reassessing the Henrician Age: Humanism, Politics and Reform, 1500–1550 (Oxford, 1986); Sharon L. Jansen, Political Protest and Prophecy under Henry VIII (Woodbridge, 1991); K. J. Kesselring, ‘Deference and Dissent in Tudor England: Reflections on Sixteenth-Century Protest’, History Compass 163 (2005), pp. 1–16. Alec Ryrie, ‘Hearing God’s Voice in the English and Scottish Reformations’, Reformation 17 (2012), pp. 50–70; Tim Thornton, Prophecy, Politics and the People in Early Modern England (Woodbridge, 2006); Alexandra Walsham, Providence in Early Modern England (Oxford, 1999).

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wardian period. The absence of any treatment of Edwardian prophecy necessitates a closer analysis of the evangelicals’ use of prophecy as political protest. As Tim Thornton contends, prophets and prophecies helped to shape English society at the local and regional political levels.12 The evangelicals believed, theoretically, that the ability to perform miracles, declare prophecy, and receive divine revelation had ceased with the closing of the biblical canon. However, as Alec Ryrie has demonstrated, most evangelicals in reality held that the possibility of the miraculous and new revelation from God existed.13 The portrayal of these prophetic abilities in evangelical literature during this period, argues Ryrie, was a polemical tool used to validate the evangelical cause.14 In referring to themselves as ‘prophets’, the evangelical preachers believed that they functioned as authoritative representatives of God in declaring to England a divine message, one of repentance and reform. There have been two traditions of prophecy as understood by patristic and medieval theologians. First, biblical foretelling was the prediction and warning of future events, typically those of divine judgment utilising biblical images. Second, prophecy was also the scriptural interpretation and declaration of the word of God, primarily through the mechanism of preaching.15 Jon Balserak has argued that the early modern prophetic role in the Reformation involved these two traditions.16 The early modern prophets held that they were servants of and adherents to the Old Testament covenant as the true successors of the Old Testament prophet. They promoted the idea that the prophet was an ‘outsider’ or a ‘radical’ who was not accepted by the established church. Balserak has noted that Calvin and his contemporaries believed that the primary purpose of the prophetic office was to explain the Bible rather than predicting the future.17 However, during the Northumberland regime, predicting the future became a regular feature of evangelical print. The connection to Old Testament prophecy was an important mark of Edwardian prophecy. One reason for this parallel between the early modern prophets and their Old Testament counterparts may be that the former identified with their counterparts in the war against idolatry and their struggle to purify the established religion.18 So many of the Old Testament prophetic elements including an acute interest in the ministries of Isaiah and Jeremiah, a preoccupation with the Mosaic Law, and an emphasis on prophetic authority over 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

Thornton, Prophecy, pp. 8, 11. Ryrie, ‘Hearing God’s Voice’, pp. 50–70. Ryrie, ‘Hearing God’s Voice’, p. 50. Jon Balserak, John Calvin as Sixteenth Century Prophet (Oxford, 2014), pp. 18–26. Balserak, John Calvin, p. 32. Balserak, John Calvin, p. 57. Balserak, John Calvin, pp. 59–60.

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royal authority are present in the writings of the English evangelicals, including those of Becon. Because of the identification with the Old Testament prophets, it was natural to compare England with Old Testament Israel. Alexandra Walsham has argued that the connection between England and Israel in evangelical literature found full expression between 1563 and 1640.19 However, the tracts of Thomas Becon, George Joye, John Bale, and others in the 1540s and 1550s prove that the connection was already well established before 1563. In discussing political prophecies, there are several aspects that must be considered. What was the balance between the king’s authority and prophetic authority and how did early modern prophets like Becon straddle this tension? Did prophetic authority always trump political authority for the prophets? The evangelicals constantly stressed obedience and loyalty to Edward. But they also established their authority as divine and affirmed it by appealing to Old Testament prophetic models. That raises perhaps the most important question of the nature of prophecy and political protest: when do political prophecies cross the line into ‘treason’ or ‘sedicion’? As will be argued in this chapter, there were no concrete criteria in determining what constituted ‘sedicion’. The elusive line of demarcation between ‘sedicion’ and obedience was something that evangelicals constantly flirted with. To some degree, Becon was perhaps one of the more successful evangelicals in walking the ‘line’ by frequently pledging his allegiance to the king yet by being somewhat ‘sedicious’ by criticising and challenging civil authority. As will be demonstrated, some would call actions like Becon’s ‘sedicious’. Becon’s concept of the ‘godly common weale’ evolved with the changes that transpired within his life and situation. His cautious, suppressed tone is apparent in his exilic writings. But in the early 1550s, his approach took on a bolder, prophetic quality. In the Preface of Flour of godly praiers, Becon drew parallels with the English reformers and the Old Testament prophets by submitting a historical narrative, much the same way the prophets did in recounting Israel’s history. The simple, yet unstated message of Becon’s narrative was that just as God punished people from generation to generation for refusing to repent after prophetic warnings, so God was going to punish the English commonwealth without repentance. Underlying his historical narrative was the understanding and assumption that the English were God’s chosen people. Becon recounted England’s religious history from the patristic era highlighting the cycle of prophecy followed by rejection. He utilised Old Testament models for the purpose of submitting ‘monumentes of Goddes vengaunce agaynste the churlish and unthanckeful’, an unmistakable reference to the

19 Walsham, Providence, pp. 281–282.

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conservatives who resisted Edward’s reforms.20 He also repeatedly stressed God’s mercy to England in ‘raysing up’ prophets to elicit repentance from His people. Beginning with the sixth century religious leader Gildas, Becon noted the English prophetic exhortations to repent accompanied by the warning and execution of divine judgment if the call to repent went unheeded. God ‘raysed up’ the ‘godlye’ John Wycliffe to persuade the people to ‘amende theyr lyves’. He was ‘despysed’ and martyred by the English people, who also ‘slewe theyr ryghte kynge’, probably a veiled reference to Richard II.21 They then ‘sette up iii wrong kynges’, undoubtedly a reference to the Lancastrian kings. Becon described the people’s mistreatment of the ‘godlye’ ones, perhaps a reference to the Wycliffites, as disobedience. God’s reaction to this disobedience was to send ‘extreame plages of gods vengaunce’, which included the installation of the three aforementioned kings. Up to that point in England’s history, the prophets’ ‘exhortacions were not regarded’. After Wycliffe, God ‘once again havynge pytye on this realme of Englande, raysed up his Prophets’. Becon specifically named those prophets as Tyndale, Bilney, Frith, Barnes, Jerome, Garrett, and Parson ‘wyth dyvers other[s]’, all of which were the early evangelicals.22 God commissioned them ‘to cal us [the people of England] unto repentaunce’. But instead, these prophets were ‘condemned and brent [sic] as heretikes’.23 Bale also viewed himself and his fellow evangelicals as ‘hys [God’s] true prophetes in thys lattre age’, specifically in ‘declarynge the fynall destruccyon of that wretched kyngdome [the Catholic church]’.24 William Samuel, in his poetic A warnyng for the cittie of London, also believed, quoting Christ’s words from Luke 13:34, that the spiritual blindness of London was ‘bycause his [God’s] true prophets, ye have always slayne’.25 Confronting the king with prophetic boldness was a divine responsibility of the Old Testament court prophets, and the evangelical prophets perpetuated this belief. In fact, they cited biblical models of confrontation and rebuke to defend their rhetoric. John Hooper argued that it was the prophet’s divine duty to reprimand the king’s sin ‘by the word of God playnly without coloure or circumloquncion as Nathan dyd David. Elias Achab. Iohn Herod’.26 Hooper warned Edward directly of the consequences of disobeying God’s law.27 As will be de20 21 22 23 24

Becon, Flour of godly praiers, Preface, sigs. A4r–v. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, Preface, sig. A4r. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, Preface, sig. A4v. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, Preface, sig. A4v. John Bale, The first two partes of the actes or unchast examples of the Englysh votaryes (London, 1551) STC 1273.5, sig. B1r. 25 William Samuel, A warnyng for the cittie of London (London: Humfrey Powell, 1550) STC 21690.8, sig. A2r. 26 Hooper, Declaration of the ten holy co[m]maundementes, sigs. K7r–v. 27 Hooper, Oversight, sig. A7r.

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tailed later in this chapter, Becon confronted Edward with prophetic authority in one of his tracts. A commonality shared among the reformers was a frustrated pessimism with the religious state of England, a pessimism that was also found in the messages of the Jewish prophets. That Old Testament mentality gave the evangelicals a sense of the vital urgency of reformation. Consequently, jeremiads became a prominent trait of the evangelical, ‘prophetic’ message. While the evangelicals were vocal about the divine blessings they attributed to Edward’s reign, they were just as insistent that God’s judgment was imminent. The simultaneous presence of divine blessings and judgment in England was a curious, yet prevalent feature in evangelical, prophetic rhetoric. Becon’s writings, for instance, revealed a dark, troubled side of his outlook for England and he did not hesitate to express his feelings. Becon was distraught with the ‘traiterous conspiracies and hellike commocions which we of late have seene’ in England. He was perturbed that ‘the comune weale of England hath both bene disturbed, defaced, and greatly enpoverished’.28 Those observations were from 1550, but even in 1548 when there was a general sense of optimism among the evangelicals, he wrote, ‘The state of England was never so miserable, as it is at thys presente’.29 And in a jolting prayer with striking resemblance to the prophets, he called for God to ‘dissolve thys wreched world by thy glorious commyng’, if social injustices in England were not rectified.30 Prophetic warnings to England as God’s people were ubiquitous in evangelical print, echoing Old Testament prophets’ warnings of God’s impending judgment on Israel. The messages were strikingly similar to prophetic warnings found in the Old Testament. Thomas Lever, for instance, threatened England with ‘the vengeance of god, as a dewe plage and punyshment’ and described the fate of those who refused to repent.31 In December 1550, Lever resembled the prophet Gad in seeing ‘the aungell of the Lorde with a sworde of vengeaunce redye to destroye you’.32 Bale and William Samuel made similar remarks of God’s impending judgment, utilising the language of ‘hayll’, ‘brymstone’, and ‘fyre’.33 Prophetic threats of judgment were not the only tool in the evangelicals’ arsenal in their attempts to bring change. In the late 1540s and early 1550s events 28 29 30 31

Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. C3v–4r. Thomas Becon, The iewel of ioye (London: J. Day and W. Seres, 1550) STC 1733, sig. H2v. Becon, Iewel of ioye, sigs. H2v–3r. Thomas Lever, A sermon preached the thyrd Sondaye in Lente before the kynges Maiestie (London: John Day, 1550) STC 15548, sigs. A3r–v. 32 Lever, Sermon preached at Pauls Crosse, sigs. D5v–D6r. The biblical reference is 1 Chronicles 21. 33 John Bale, The vocacyon of Ioha[n] Bale to the bishiprick of Ossorie in Irela[n]de (Wesel, 1553) STC 1307, sig. F2v; Samuel, Warnyng for the cittie of London, sig. A3v.

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began taking on a ‘supernatural’ or ‘providential’ nature in the eyes of the evangelical prophets. Walsham has traced and detailed the evangelicals’ interpretation of events in the sixteenth century, arguing that there was certainly a political spin infused in these ‘providential’ signs.34 While her study focuses on events after 1560, I would argue that a similar approach was at play in the early 1550s. Most evangelicals were all too ready to interpret the unfortunate events as providential so that every strange, unnatural phenomenon or disaster became a portent of divine curse. The irony in all this is that the view of ‘providence’ resembled superstition paralleling pagan practices.35 This was especially the case in the occurrences of plagues, specifically the ‘English sweating sickness’ which broke out in 1550.36 The evangelicals took full advantage of the opportunity to cast the sweating sickness as England’s punishment from God. John Caius, a physician who described the symptoms and remedies of the ‘sweatyng sicknesse’, claimed that the occurrence was the fifth case since 1506.37 He believed it originated in Shrewsbury in April 1551 and had spread to the northern and eastern regions by August. However, he apparently was mistaken as reports of the sickness came as early as August 1550. That month a royal proclamation was made concerning ‘exchewing the daunger of sicknes, the Plage nowe reigneng in divers places’.38 Apparently the plague was grave enough to disrupt business in the King’s court.39 The evangelical interpretation of the plague was unanimous. The plague was God’s ‘rod’ to chastise England for her wickedness. Probably at the urging of his court preachers and members of his privy council, Edward addressed the sweating sickness and called for a spiritual response to it, aside from the curfew on court activity. He issued a statement to the bishops on this matter on 18 June 1551, expressing his concern ‘to see our subjects vexed with extreme and sudden plague which daily increases’. He admitted that it was because ‘the people rebel against God’ that God ‘sent one plague after another’. He exhorted the bishops with language strikingly similar to his court preachers: ‘The only way to recover His grace is by prayer and amendment of life. You should therefore by yourself and your ministers persuade the people to resort more diligently to common prayer and refrain from the greed with which most are infected’.40 One month 34 Walsham, Providence, pp. 168–170. 35 Walsham, Providence, p. 170. 36 Paul R. Hunter, ‘The English Sweating Sickness, with Particular Reference to the 1551 Outbreak in Chester’, Reviews of Infectious Diseases 13 (1991), p. 304. 37 John Caius, A boke, or counseill against the disease commonly called the sweate, or sweatyng sicknesse (London: Richard Grafton, 1552) STC 4343, sig. B2v. 38 TNA, PC 2/4f.114. 39 TNA, PC 2/4f.114; R. Lemon (ed), Calendar of State Papers (London, 1856), p. 30; TNA, SP 10/ 11f.20; TNA, PC 2/4f.348. 40 TNA, SP 10/13f.62.

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later on 18 July 1551, he charged the bishops again to ‘exhort the people to a diligent attendance at Common Prayer, and so to avert the displeasure of Almighty God, He having visited the realm with the extreme plague of sudden death’.41 Nicholas Wotton, dean of Canterbury and York and member of the king’s privy council, writing to William Cecil on 10 August 1551, declared that the sweating sickness was God’s ‘sharp rod, wherewith it pleaseth God presently to visit and chastise the poor realm of England’.42 An anonymous author prayed on behalf of England, also acknowledging the ‘sharper rodde’ of the ‘sodayn plague’.43 While all believed that the sickness was God’s ‘rodde’, not all agreed who should be the scapegoat for provoking God. Both the evangelicals and the Catholics exchanged accusations, blaming each other for the sweating sickness.44 The evangelicals also attributed the plague to the commons’ lack of charity to the poor, while the Catholics linked the sickness to the reformers’ iconoclasm. By August 1551, the plague had significantly subsided, and according to Caius, it had completely vanished by the end of the following month.45 Could this mysterious disappearance of the plague be attributed to God’s mercy or some measure of repentance on the part of England? The absence of evangelical commentary and theological interpretation of this quick disappearance of the sweating sickness is peculiar. If the oncoming of the plague was quickly attributed to God’s providence, why was not the removal of the plague also attributed to the hand of God? Why was there no public proclamation of praise or any mention of God’s deliverance by the evangelical community? Clearly it was more effective to encourage repentance with bad news in the midst of it than after everything had returned to ‘normalcy’.46 While the sweating sickness featured very prominently in evangelical print, it was not the only act of judgment that God was going to bring upon England. ‘Plague’ rhetoric was another method of prophetic threats and warnings. Plagues during the Old Testament era were considered God’s severest display of his wrath. Prophetic warnings of divine plagues in biblical times were intended to engender fear and elicit repentance, and the reformers adhered to this same strategy. Warnings of the plague by the Edwardian evangelicals accompanied by bold certainty of their fulfillment were a regular component of sermons and religious 41 Calendar of State Papers, p. 33. 42 S. R. Scargill-Bird (ed), Calendar of the Manuscripts of the Most Hon. the Marquis of Salisbury (24 vols; London, 1883), I. p. 90. 43 Anonymous, A Christian meditacion or praier to be sayed at all tymes (London: S. Mierdman, 1551) STC 5179, sigs. A3r–v, A4v. 44 Susan Brigden, London and the Reformation, pp. 470–471. 45 Calendar of the Manuscripts, p. 90; Caius, Boke, or counseill against the disease, sig. B3r. 46 Walsham, Providence, p. 310.

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tracts in the early 1550s. These pronouncements demonstrate the evangelicals’ belief that they were voices of God in declaring divine judgment.47 Becon’s plague warnings in 1550 focused on the need for repentance from particular sins.48 He rebuked England for ‘oure ingratytude towarde God, and unmercifulnes toward the poore’.49 Becon was convinced that England deserved plagues for her ‘impiety and ungodliness’.50 Thomas Lever, also issuing plague warnings in 1550, identified England’s sin as ‘refus[ing] the mercye of God’.51 While Becon threatened the commonwealth with the plagues of ‘famyne and honger’, Lever prophesied that England’s ‘enemies’, ‘Scots, Frenchmen, Papistes, and Turkes’ would ‘spoyle, murther, and utterly destroy’ England.52 What was most striking about this prediction was that it mirrored the Old Testament prophecies directed to Israel, most of which contained a warning of foreign invasion and captivity of God’s people. Unlike Becon’s prediction of famine that seemed to be realistic given the current agricultural context, Lever’s was a bold prediction given that in 1550 England did not face any imminent threat of invasion. The works of William Samuel and an anonymous writer show 1550 to be a boom year for prophecies of plagues.53 Edward, apparently taking the evangelicals’ plague warnings seriously, issued an appeal in 1551 in which he ‘straightly chargeth and commandeth all and every his subiectes, of what estate, degre[e], or condicion soever he be, to dreade and feare god and his plagues, to convert and amende their maners, and to live according to the profession of christen men’.54 However, some reformers were convinced that it was not a matter of when England would be plagued, but that the commonwealth was actually experiencing the plague for its sins. Hugh Latimer and Thomas Churchyard believed that they were witnessing God’s plagues on England though both did not identify in what form they took.55 Becon in 1549 acknowledged that God sent ‘grevousse diseases, wherewyth we are already infected or els lyke to be’. But he stressed the fact that the plague was intended ‘to cal us to repentaunce, to provoke us to come home agayne unto the shepefolde’ 47 48 49 50 51 52

Catherine Davies, A Religion of the Word (Manchester, 2002), p. 187–188. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. A5v. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, Prologue, sigs. A8v–B1r. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. L5r. Thomas Lever, Fruitfull sermon, sigs. A3v–A4r. M. L. Bush, The Government Policy of Protector Somerset (London, 1975), p. 59; Lever, Fruitfull sermon, sig. A4v. 53 Samuel, Warnyng for the cittie of London, sig. A2r; Anonymous, Pyers plowmans exhortation (London: Anthony Scoloker, 1550) STC 19905, sigs. B4r–v. 54 [Edward VI], A proclamacion, set furth by the Kynges Maiestie (London: Richard Grafton, 1551) STC 7835, sig. A2. 55 Latimer, Sermon of Master Latimer, sig. E2v; Thomas Churchyard, A playn and fynall confutacion (London: Richard Lant, 1552) STC 5246, sig. A4.

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rather than to ‘destroy us, cast us headlong into hell fyre, and damne us perpetually’.56 The paradox here in Becon’s assessment of the plague was that a visitation of God’s wrath was also a sign of His mercy and special care for England. The plague, in other words, was designed to bring judgment on England and yet at the same time to elicit repentance. Another emphasis within the Old Testament prophetic framework that emerged from the writings of the reformers from this period was the antithesis of the true prophets of the Lord, the prophets of the Canaanite deity, Baal. This image from 1 Kings 19 appealed to the evangelicals for at least two reasons. First, in order to communicate the disparity between the evangelical faith and the Catholic faith, binary language portraying a distinction between the true and the false would be appropriate and effective. Second, from the evangelical perspective, they as the ‘true prophets of the Lord’ in the spirit of Elijah the prophet were the remnant minority who were fighting to bring reformation in the midst of spiritual darkness. They took comfort that though they held to the minority position, they ultimately had God on their side. The image, therefore, was a powerfully emotive rhetorical tool to persuade and rally a popular audience to join the ‘true’ faith. This portrayal of being the outnumbered, persecuted minority was intended to communicate minority was equivalent to truth, therefore, persuading the public to join their cause. The paradox with this portrayal, however, was that it would be impossible to keep it once they were the ones ‘in power’, the majority. The image of the small prophetic band also reinforced the idea of a new ‘Israel’ under the leadership of a ‘godly’ king purging the kingdom of idolatry. Their instigation of a prophetic war through print positioned the evangelicals as the true prophets of God against the prophets of Baal. In light of the recent debate on gendered anti-papal rhetoric, the Baal metaphor provides further insight into the evangelicals’ use of masculine images to portray the pope and the Catholic church. As has already been noted in Chapter 4, evangelical writers freely used both masculine and feminine images to convey very specific qualities and concepts regarding the church.57 While Dolan and Marotti charge the English evangelicals with ‘misogyny’, the metaphors of Baal, Pharaoh, and the antichrist reveal something quite different.58 The evangelicals implemented the Baal metaphor to portray the Catholics as worshippers of a pagan god, and even worse, murderers. The masculine qualities of brutality and massacre associated with the priests of Baal in the Old Testament were imposed upon the Catholic clergy. 56 Becon, Iewel of ioye, sig. S6r. 57 See Chapter 4, pp. 35–40. 58 Arthur F. Marotti, Religious ideology and cultural fantasy: Catholic and anti-Catholic discourses in early modern England (South Bend, 2005), pp. 36–37.

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Becon condemned the Catholic bishops, the ‘bellyed hipocrites and chaplens of Baal’, for burning the Bible.59 Bale compared ‘the popes olde rotten customes’ to Baal in antithesis to ‘Christes Gospell’.60 In addition, he called the Catholic priests, ‘swynish sacrifiers of Baal Peor’.61 Writing in 1546, Brinklow called the priests, the ‘Popishe Prestes of Baal’ and the ‘strong, stoute and sturdie prestes of Baall’.62 Champneys specifically compared the Catholic clergy to ‘baalles prestes’ for two reasons. First, they ‘procured and sougth [sic] the death of all maner of [God’s] people’.63 Second, they did not obey ‘the ordynauncis of chryst wrytten in the gosple’.64 Hooper compared the religious situation in England to that of the historical context of 1 Kings 19:18 in regard to the minority of the Lord’s true prophets’.65 In repudiating the ‘popysshe masse’, Mardeley likened the clergy to Baal’s priests in ‘swerv[ing] from the doctrine of S. paul’.66 Though never explicitly stated by the evangelicals, the understood point of the Baal metaphor and narrative from 1 Kings 19 is that the prophets of the Lord are justified in killing the false prophets. Though not citing 1 Kings 19, Becon came the closest of the evangelicals to suggesting capital execution of those refusing to submit to reformation. In explaining the duties of ‘hie powers and Magistrates’ in his catechism for children published in 1553, he declared, ‘That they [kings] ought to punish, yea and if thei wil not turne, to kil the preachers and maynteyners of false doctrine’.67 The scriptural proof that Becon used to defend this statement is noteworthy. He first incorporated two similar texts from Deuteronomy, Chapters 13 and 18. Both texts were divine commands addressed to the nation of Israel, instructing it to put to death those who prophesied and spoke in ‘the name of straunge Gods’. The next two portions of the Bible he included as defense were from narratives in 2 Chronicles, Chapters 10 and 13, respectively. The first narrative detailed the activities of Jehu, king of Israel, in slaying the prophets of Baal and burning the images and temple of Baal. Similarly, the passage from Chapter 13 described King Josiah desecrating all the altars of Baal in his kingdom of Judah. Obviously on Becon’s mind was a commonwealth patterned after Old Testament Israel where all other ‘false’ religions were ex59 Becon, Flour of godly praiers, sig. T5v. 60 Anne Askew, The first examinacio[n] of Anne Askewe latelye martired in Smythfelde (London: Nicholas Hill, 1547) STC 851, sig. I4r. 61 Askew, First examinacio[n], sig. F2v. 62 Brinklow, Lamentacyon, sigs. A3r–v. 63 Champneys, Harvest is at hand, sig. A8v. 64 Champneys, Harvest is at hand, sig. A8v. 65 John Hooper, A declaration of the ten holy co[m]maundementes of allmygthye God (Zurich: Augustin Fries, 1549) STC 13746, sig. C1v. 66 John Mardeley, A declaration of thee power of Gods worde concerning the holy supper of the Lord (London: Thomas Reynold, 1548) STC 17317, sig. B7r. 67 Becon, Principles of Christian Religion, sig. K1r.

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tinguished. The target, of course, was the Catholic church. Clearly, there was an agenda and message to Edward. Becon was challenging Edward to take on the role of ‘Jehu’ and ‘Josiah’, and to go even further in his reforms, even to the extent of putting to death those who opposed his reforms. While never explicitly stated anywhere in Becon’s writings, these carefully selected biblical texts seem to be a not-so-subtle message for extermination of the ‘opposition’. The broader discussion of evangelical prophecy raises an important question: Were the prophecies during the early 1550s merely spiritual in nature, pushing only for repentance and spiritual conversion, or was there something deeper at work behind the prophecies? Sharon Jansen has noted that political prophecies in England originated during the fifteenth century and were intended to be protests against the Crown.68 By the 1530s, political prophecy was used to challenge authority. The evangelicals’ frequent appeals to the king accompanying their prophecies demonstrated that their prophecies were not merely spiritual in nature. As will be seen later in this chapter, the political and the spiritual were intricately intertwined in the prophecies. The medium of prophecy became a political tool to persuade the commons and to push the evangelicals’ commonwealth agenda. The evangelical prophecies were paradoxical. While affirming a strong loyalty to Edward, these prophecies also revealed a deep discontent and even disappointment with Edward, even to the extent of challenging his authority. The line between loyalty and obedience on the one hand and criticism and outright disagreement on the other was a difficult one to maintain for Becon and his contemporaries. The slippage into ‘sedicion’ was almost inevitable within this political context, especially when any individual had the obligation to report treason to the local authorities.69 One way in which the evangelicals defended themselves from accusations of sedition was to appeal to the Old Testament court prophets. Another problem that enters the discussion on the prophetic element of evangelical rhetoric in the early 1550s is one that has already been raised by Alexandra Walsham in her evaluation of seventeenth century prophecy, and is also applicable to the sixteenth century.70 The prophetic utterances became problematic as a tool for patriotism and spiritual revival. As Becon and the other prophets railed against and blamed various segments on society for England’s woes, their view of England as the chosen people of God was ultimately being undermined. The prophets’ message of the 1550s inevitably sounded conflicted, 68 Jansen, Political Protest, p. 154. 69 Andy Wood, The 1549 Rebellions and the Making of Early Modern England (Cambridge, 2007), pp. 99–100. 70 Walsham, Providence, p. 303.

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a mixture of ‘the people of God’ and ‘the enemies of God’. Becon’s message, for example, vacillated from a message to an English Old Testament commonwealth to an angry diatribe addressed to a nation that epitomised evil, both one and the same audience. The evangelicals’ political protest, while effective to some extent in its spiritual appeal, had the unwanted consequences of allegations of ‘sedicion’ and ‘rebellion’.

Rebel Political Rhetoric While prophetic rhetoric mixed Old Testament elements with English politics, rebel political literature generally centred on commonwealth rhetoric mixing Christian humanism and civil duties. Recent scholarship on commonwealth rhetoric in England in the 1540s and 1550s has focused on the intersection of commonwealth rhetoric and rebel political protest, but few of them consider the evangelical contribution to rebel political rhetoric. None of them elaborate on Becon’s substantial contribution to the genre of political protest.71 Quentin Skinner has argued that the origins of ‘private-law theory of resistance’ in England can be traced to Calvin’s writings after 1552 and their influence upon English politics.72 He has suggested that John Ponet and Christopher Goodman after the late 1550s embodied Calvin’s justification for ‘forcible resistance’.73 However, as it will be demonstrated, the writings of Thomas Becon and Robert Crowley, another evangelical, commonwealth man, suggest that the wheels of ‘forcible resistance’ were already well in motion in England by 1550. The penalties for traitorous speech and writing were severe, ranging from imprisonment to corporal mutilation. For instance, Elizabeth Huggons was called in to the Tower for examination for her words spoken against Edward in 1552. She had condemned Northumberland, and spoke of Edward as an ‘unnatural nephew’ who needed a good ‘jerking’.74 In tracing the rebel political language from 1549 to 1553, Andy Wood has argued that many of the commons were arrested for simply observing and mentioning that the poor were being mistreated and taken advantage of.75 Even the simple telling of the truth was 71 David Cressy, Dangerous Talk: Scandalous, Seditious, and Treasonable Speech in Pre-modern England (Oxford, 2010); K. J. Kesselring, ‘Deference and Dissent in Tudor England: Reflections on Sixteenth-Century Protest’, History Compass 163 (2005), pp. 1–16; Andy Wood, The 1549 Rebellions and the Making of Early Modern England (Cambridge, 2007). 72 Quentin Skinner, The Foundations of Modern Political Thought, Vol. 2 (Cambridge, 1978), pp. 220–222. 73 Skinner, Foundations of Modern Political Thought, p. 221. 74 Cressy, Dangerous Talk, p. 56. 75 Wood, 1549 Rebellions, pp. 99–100, 132; Cressy, Dangerous Talk, p. 55.

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viewed as ‘sedicious’. But this is exactly what Becon and other evangelicals were doing. He was in effect speaking the language of sedition and political rebellion. Why did he not get in trouble? Perhaps he was rebuked or threatened, but there is no record of it. His silence on political rebellion and commonwealth rhetoric in his 1551 and 1553 tracts may suggest he was threatened, but there is no substantial proof to support that. In light of such a hostile climate for political protestors and the issuing of a series of royal proclamations from 1549 to 1551 to clamp down on seditious writings and speech, how did evangelicals like Becon negotiate the dangerous line between sedition and protest? As leading evangelical commonwealth men, both Thomas Becon and Robert Crowley serve as insightful case studies for the evangelicals’ reactions to political uprisings among the commons, particularly the 1549 rebellions. Their writings not only display the rebel political spirit of the times, but also display the different ways of expressing protest. Their commonwealth language, like that of other evangelicals, was a conglomeration of religion, economics, and morality.76 While the rhetoric Becon and Crowley incorporated and the theology underlying it was fundamentally analogous, their approaches and styles were antithetical. Crowley, originally from Gloucestershire, resided in London at the time of the 1549 uprisings and worked as a proofreader for the printers, John Day and William Seres.77 Crowley’s very first works were published in 1548, two of which were religious polemic while the other one was a piece of political protest regarding the treatment of the poor.78 In the protest piece, Crowley appealed to ‘some godlye mynded men’ in Parliament to ‘take occation to speake more in the matter’ and to rectify the situation.79 In The way to wealth Crowley primarily addressed the rich gentry and political leaders.80 His work intriguingly came into print seven days before Becon’s Fortresse of the faythfull and bears a striking resemblance to Becon’s in content, but not in style. Crowley held Parliament responsible for the 1549 uprisings and accused Edward of stirring up sedition. Crowley mixed evangelical commonwealth rhetoric with the language of political rebellion. He defended the poor and spoke their language, implementing contemporary vocabulary to criticise urban government [see figure 5.1]. Crowley used a series of common euphemisms of his day in expressing his protest, and as Wood has 76 Wood, 1549 Rebellions, p. 101. 77 Basil Morgan, ‘Robert Crowley’, ODNB (accessed 2 March 2016). 78 Robert Crowley, The confutation of the mishapen aunswer (London: John Day and William Seres, 1548) STC 6082; The confutation of the. xiii. articles, wherunto Nicolas Shaxton, late byshop of Salilburye [sic] subscribed (London: John Day and William Seres, 1548) STC 6083; An informacion and peticion agaynst the oppressours of the poore commons of thys realme (London: John Day, 1548) STC 6086, 6086.5. 79 Crowley, Informacion and peticion, Title page. 80 Robert Crowley, The way to wealth wherein is plainly taught a most present remedy for sedicion (London: S. Mierdman, 1550) STC 6096.

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noted, it demonstrated Crowley’s attempt to identify with the commons and to be their voice.81 Figure 5.1 Rebel rhetoric expressions, 1548–1550 Euphemisms ‘poll and pill’

Times used by Becon 5

Times used by Crowley 2

‘hang’

0

1

‘cormorauntes’

1

2

‘butcher’

2

1

‘tirauntes’

4

1

‘brainless’, ‘brainsick’

3

0

One euphemism that Crowley incorporated was to ‘poll and pill’, a phrase originating around 1300 and referring to financial extortion.82 He condemned the unfair taxation of the poor and the harsh financial penalties imposed for noncompliance. A harsher phrase that Crowley and other commonwealth men used ‘crossed the line’ into political resistance. They threatened to hang the greedy gentry and to resist any authority who prevented them from executing revenge.83 This ‘hangman’ rhetoric demonstrated the desperate minds of the commons. For example, Crowley protested using a collective ‘we’, a reference to the poor commons, in threatening to defend themselves if they were attacked: ‘we wil hang them [the gentry] at their own dores. We wil be lordes of our own’.84 Not surprisingly, Crowley also implemented Old Testament prophetic rhetoric in his rebel protest piece. He re-imagined the prophet Ezekiel’s reception of God’s message condemning the leadership of Israel. Crowley placed himself in the text as the prophet conversing with God about the state of England. While the dialogue was between Crowley and God, the message was directly to Edward and Parliament, the corrupt shepherds: Thou sonne of manne sayth the Lord: prophecye agaynst the shepherdes of England, prophecy and say unto those shepheardis: thus sayeth the Lord God. Wo be to the shepherdes of England, that have fed them selves. What ought not those shepherdes to have fed those flockes of England.85

81 82 83 84 85

Wood, 1549 Rebellions, p. 101. Wood, 1549 Rebellions, p. 101. Wood, 1549 Rebellions, p. 102. Crowley, Way to wealth, sig. B3r. Crowley, Way to wealth, sig. A8r. Crowley quoted from Ezekiel 34:1–4.

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Crowley accused Parliament of ‘kepe[ing] the commones of England in slavery’.86 Though his tone toward Parliament was harsh, he exhorted both Parliament and the commons to stand down and negotiate with each other. He did acknowledge, however, that the commons were guilty for their actions during the uprisings and their actions were inexcusable. But he quickly placed the blame on the gentry and charged them with the responsibility of being the cause of the commons’ uprisings.87 He pleaded with the commons to ‘refer youre cause to God’. And he admonished the gentry to ‘lament your so doinge and do the office of your callinge, in defendinge the innocente and fedinge the nedye’.88 Becon’s Fortresse, printed on 14 February 1550, also sheds some light on rebel political language from a different perspective. About three times as long as Crowley’s Way to wealth, the abrasive tone of Becon’s work mirrored Crowley’s spirit. Wood avers that all commonwealth writers in 1549, like Crowley, represented the commons and spoke on their behalf.89 As he has noted, individual dissidents like Crowley claimed that they were speaking with a collective rebel voice, using ‘we’ to demonstrate it. This collective voice of ‘we’ was not only an effective method for the writer in identifying with the commons, but it was also a convenient way to avoid accusations of sedition or treachery.90 However, Becon defies Wood’s black-and-white portrayal of writers either being commonwealth ‘rebels’ or Parliament loyalists. Becon was unique among the commonwealth men in that he neither represented the poor commons nor Parliament. He never used the collective ‘we’ in arguing his case. His role was that of a negotiator, criticising both parties equally and persuading each party to reconcile and meet their divine obligations. For instance, Becon at one moment defended the commons and attacked the covetous rich and the king himself with scathing terms. But at another point, Becon upbraided the rebels for their ‘sedicion’, defending the government and the king, insisting that Edward would end the crisis.91 K. J. Kesselring has observed that some of the rebels attempted to engage in face-to-face or private negotiation in order to come to some terms of peace.92 While not face-to-face in nature, Becon’s Fortresse of the faythfull was essentially a negotiation tool in print. Becon was reluctant to commit himself to a side. Yet he sympathised with both parties and exhorted both to stand down. In this Becon was different from Crowley who clearly sided with the commons, even

86 87 88 89 90 91 92

Crowley, Way to wealth, sig. B7v. Crowley, Way to wealth, sig. B4r. Crowley, Way to wealth, sig. B8r. Wood, 1549 Rebellions, p. 105. Wood, 1549 Rebellions, p. 137. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. E8r. K. J. Kesselring, ‘Deference and Dissent’, p. 6.

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justifying their disorderly behaviour and placing the responsibility back upon the gentry. When Becon raised his voice on behalf of the commons in his Fortresse, he resembled Crowley’s blunt, even ‘sedicious’ language. Becon, like Crowley, utilised some contemporary rebel political terms including ‘poll and pill’, ‘cormorauntes’, and ‘butcher’ [see figure 5.1]. Like Crowley he re-imagined a biblical dialogue by placing himself and Edward in it. Becon’s choice of dialogue was a bolder one than Crowley’s, involving a direct confrontation with Edward himself. Becon incorporated the dialogue between Elijah and Ahab recorded in 1 Kings 18 by assuming the role of the prophet and placing Edward in the place of Ahab, the king of Israel, hardly a flattering comparison. This was essentially a re-imagined face-to-face confrontation, obviously in the writer’s favour, and it gave Becon the advantage to initiate and manage his complaint without an opportunity for a response from the king. Becon as Elijah defended himself from the accusation of ‘sedicion’ from the king that he was the ‘troubler’ of the commonwealth and the author of sedition. He hurled the charge of ‘sedicion’ right back upon Edward: Doest thou O kynge, laye to my charge, that I troubled thy realme, which teache thy subiectes to obey the[e] in all those thy comaundementes that fyghte not wyth goddes worde? Then untruly thou accusest me. There is, I graunt, in thy realme sedicion and muche hurlye burly: what then? Impute not the faute to me, but corie thy selfe on the head and saye: I my selfe and my wycked progenitors we are only the occasion of al these tumultes, sedicions, conspiracies, and c. wherewith thys my Realme at this present is so greatly disquieted’.93

Edward’s response as Ahab was absent in this confrontation, demonstrating from Becon’s perspective that God held the king ultimately responsible for the ‘hurlye burly’. The impact of this re-imagined biblical dialogue between Becon and Edward must have been striking, and it causes one to wonder if Becon escaped unscathed with the charge of sedition after this bold pronouncement. Becon used rhetoric devices much more fluidly and extensively than Crowley. For instance, Becon’s repeated use of assonance gives his angry message some rhythmic bite that would resonate with the commons: ‘they [the gentry] poll they pyl, they wake they rake, they sweate they freate, they gripe thei nipe, thei face thei brase, they semble they dissemble’.94 As has already been noted in previous chapters, Becon was also a master of alliteration.95 Further, Becon’s metaphors in describing the gentry, including ‘caterpillers’, ‘rakers’, and ‘brainsicke’, were

93 Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. D3v–E4r. 94 Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. E3r. 95 Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. B8r, E4v.

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much more numerous, colourful, and pejorative than Crowley’s.96 ‘Brainsicke’ and ‘brainles’ were common derogative terms used polemically by evangelicals including Latimer, Bale, and Gilby to describe Catholic clergy. However, ‘caterpillers’ and ‘rakers’ were exclusively used by Becon to refer to the gentry. While it appears that Becon and Crowley were targeting similar audiences, Becon’s rhetorical skills suggest an affinity for a more refined, diverse writing style. While he boldly confronted Edward and berated the rich, Becon also severely criticised and harangued the rebels for their disorderly conduct in the uprisings. Unlike Crowley, he made no attempts at justifying their actions or shifting the blame upon the gentry. He rebuked them for their ‘rashe and disobedient behaviour’.97 He charged them with having ‘gone far beyond their limites’ and having ‘presumed to do the office of magistrates’.98 He urged the rebels to submit themselves to their king, reminding them that sedition against the ‘hye powers’ was ‘a sinne, whiche by no meanes can escape unplaged’ leading even to ‘eternall damnacion’.99 Though Becon was brutal at times in his condemnations of the rich, he never condoned armed resistance as Crowley and other commonwealth writers did by utilising ‘hangman’ rhetoric.100 Becon’s assumption that the rebels were disorderly raises a question about how violent the dissidents were. MacCulloch has contended that the insurrectionists were generally orderly and could hardly be called ‘rebels’.101 Wood has countered that there was a tension between orderliness and disorderliness within the rebel groups. While Kett attempted to keep the uprisings peaceful, his followers became unruly and even rapacious.102 The rebels traveled throughout the countryside, plundering and consuming sheep, deer, and rabbits belonging to the gentry. Further, the Norfolk rebels completely ravaged the deer parks, creating miles of devastation in their wake.103 Stealing and consuming the animals was all part of communicating revenge for their mistreatment at the hands of the rich. While Becon did not elaborate upon the commons’ ‘rashe and disobedient behaviour’, he must have been referring to actions of this extreme kind when he charged them for ‘have[ing] gone far beyond their limites’.

96 In his Fortresse, Becon referred to the rich as ‘caterpillers’ (three times), ‘rakers’ (three times), ‘brainles’ (two times), and ‘brainsicke’ (one time). 97 Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. C4v. 98 Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. C4r–v. For further examples of Becon’s condemnations of disorderliness, see Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. C5r, E8v. 99 Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. E8v. 100 Wood, 1549 Rebellions, p. 102. 101 Diarmaid MacCulloch, Tudor church militant: Edward VI and the Protestant Reformation (London, 1999), p. 44; Diarmaid MacCulloch, Thomas Cranmer (New Haven, 1996), p. 437. 102 Wood, 1549 Rebellions, pp. 151–152, 165. 103 Wood, 1549 Rebellions, p. 165.

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Yet Becon, as he did in his Henrician tracts, held the Catholic clergy responsible for the disorder. For Becon, this was not merely an economic issue, but it was an opportunity to engage in some religious polemic. Becon accused the ‘massemungers and papistes’ of instigating the ‘insurreccions in Devonshyre’.104 If it were not for the ‘popyshe priestes’ he reasoned, ‘they [the commons] had never fallen to such disorder’.105 Becon also insisted that the evangelicals in Norfolk were not to blame for the seditions.106 Becon reasoned that evangelical ‘sermons’ would never ‘move men unto disobedience, hautines of mynde, and desyre of revenginge’.107 Therefore, according to Becon, the conservative faction was a cause of the 1549 uprisings. Underlying this rebel political rhetoric was what Wood calls the ‘angry language of class’, a theme that permeated the writings from 1549 to 1553.108 The commonwealth men repeatedly described and illustrated the polarised English society, rife with conflicts between the poor and the rich. Becon was no exception to this. The poor portrayed the gentry as greedy, covetous, and violent. The commonwealth writers reiterated this stereotype in print. On the other hand, the same writers including Becon portrayed the poor commons as helpless victims of the rich.109 This ‘victim’ language was intended to highlight the disparate levels of ‘class’ and, further, to elicit an angry response for such mistreatment. This contrast between the poor and the rich was the foundation of rebel political rhetoric. It highlighted the tension of the times and the need for face-to-face negotiation. At one point in his narrative, Becon defended the evangelical preachers by returning to the same biblical dialogue he used previously against Edward, his reimagined face-to-face confrontation through the Elijah dialogue. He averred that God’s prophets were never the causes of sedition in a commonwealth, but they were being used as scapegoats as Elijah was. Baal’s prophets, the conservatives, were the true ‘trouble makers’.110 Again, Becon’s logic is too simplistic in arguing that the evangelicals would never cause sedition, and that obedience to God, as the evangelical preachers were supposedly doing, always yielded peace for the commonwealth. Citing the Israelites’ rejection of the Old Testament prophets, he pointed out that England’s problems would simply disappear if the disobedient, the Catholics, would repent.111 The crucial question in this discussion is who actually caused the uprisings and what were the social and religious backgrounds 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111

Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. D2v. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. D1v. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. D2v. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. D2v–D3r. Wood, 1549 Rebellions, p. 171. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. A2r, E4r–v. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. D7r. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sigs. D7v–D8v.

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of the insurrectionists? Was this merely a religious war or the results of the Protestant Reformation as Becon made it to be? Wood has argued that the original leadership of the Devon rebellions consisted of the poor, including a tailor, labourer, shoemaker, and fisherman. Social critics of the day dubbed these men ‘reffuse’ and ‘scumme’.112 This observation corresponds to Becon’s exhortation to the poor commons in England when he specifically singled out shoemakers, tailors, schoolmasters, and merchants.113 While many of the insurrectionists were described as ‘boys’, many of whom were ‘naked’, there were also older rebels participating in the uprisings.114 The conventional interpretation of the 1549 rebellions was that the Western uprisings were primarily concerned with religious issues while Kett’s rebellion in Norfolk was more economic in nature.115 But more recent scholarship has demonstrated that religion and economics were intertwined in the uprisings and that the rebels’ religious loyalties were divided.116

Conclusion The early 1550s revealed crucial changes in English society including new, ‘dangerous’ views of a ‘godly’ commonwealth. Becon’s contribution to this period distinguished him from other evangelicals as a ‘progressive’ thinker. While clearly displaying a commonwealth agenda, he affirmed allegiance to the crown. Yet, Becon incorporated both prophetic elements and political protest to galvanise his readership against what he perceived were gross injustices committed against the poor commons by the wealthy. Reimagined and contextualised Old Testament prophecy coupled with rebel political rhetoric were dangerous weapons evangelicals used to both bolster their spiritual authority and identify with the commons. While Becon’s rhetoric during this period may be considered sharp, Becon’s third exile would again reshape his thinking as the first two had done and add even more bite to his sharp rhetoric. Given his strong opinions and, in some respects, radical views, he would emerge from his exile with even stronger views.

112 113 114 115

Wood, 1549 Rebellions, p. 175. Becon, Fortresse of the faythfull, sig. L3r. Wood, 1549 Rebellions, pp. 166–167. Diarmaid MacCulloch, ‘The Reformation in the balance: power struggles in the diocese of Norwich, 1533–1553’, in C. Rawcliffe, R. Virgoe and R. Wilson (eds), Counties and communities: essays on East Anglian history presented to Hassell Smith (Woodbridge, 1996); Ethan Shagan, Popular politics and the English Reformation (Cambridge, 2002); Perez Zagorin, Rebels and rulers, 1500–1660 (Cambridge, 1982). 116 Wood, 1549 Rebellions, p. 177.

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While the Edwardian reformation has been described as the culmination of evangelical domination and triumph, the Marian restoration is commonly viewed as the catalyst in crushing evangelical expectations, therefore hindering the progress of the reformation in England. But many scholars have argued that the evangelical agenda persisted and thrived despite the pressures of conformity and exile. The evangelicals’ writings in exile demonstrate continuity from earlier periods and corporate unity in key doctrines. In one sense this is true of Becon. He repudiated all aspects of Marian Catholicism, his polemic taking on an even sharper tone than his previous tracts. Yet, Becon’s works also provide insight into some of the changes and ruptures within Becon’s theological development. These subtle shifts in his theology are significant, not only in identifying Becon’s position in the famous controversy at Frankfurt, but also for dispelling the common characterisation of Becon as an inflexible radical evangelical.1 Becon’s theological views and doctrinal development hardly fit what some scholars describe as the stereotypical English reformer. His Marian writings expose this truth in important ways. This chapter, therefore, will aim to correct a common interpretation and misunderstanding of Becon’s evangelicalism. It will further trace Becon’s changes in his doctrine over a span of twelve years and examine the complexity of those shifts while suggesting some potential causes of his theological evolution. While Becon’s commitment to evangelicalism is indisputable, his Marian writings demonstrate a tense, conflicted relationship with the 1552 Prayer Book. Both his Edwardian and Marian writings reveal staunch support for Edwardian evangelicalism as seen in his approbation of Edward and his reforms. Yet he still persisted in his differences with the Edwardian Church in matters of clerical vestments and other forms of ceremonialism. This tension will be explored in this chapter within the context of the evangelical divisions in Frankfurt, Becon’s 1 A. G. Newell, ‘Thomas Becon and Literary Studies’, Evangelical Quarterly 33 (1961), pp. 93–101; Ryan Reeves, English Evangelicals and Tudor Obedience, c. 1527–1570 (Leiden, 2014), p. 76.

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residence in exile from 1555 to 1557. Becon identified himself with the Coxians, his name appearing in the 1555 liturgy of the Frankfurt exiles as one of the signatories of the section, ‘Thorder off discipline in the Englishe churche off Franckforde’.2 However, he and other Coxians encouraged changes to the Prayer Book that eliminated some of the ceremonialism that perturbed them.3 Through direct statements and lengthy lists contrasting the Prayer Book with Catholic liturgy, Becon promoted the use of the 1552 Prayer Book. But in the same contexts, he condemned the ‘papistes’ ceremonialism, an aspect advocated in the Prayer Book. His Marian writings demonstrate this tension. This chapter will seek to revisit the controversy over the Prayer Book, placing Becon and his writings within that volatile context. Further, it will raise the question of Becon’s integrity in his various claims either supporting the 1552 Prayer Book or criticising it. Marian historiography has centred primarily on two general aspects pertaining to religious activity during Mary’s reign. First, historians have explored Mary’s program for restoring Catholicism in both the clerical and lay spheres.4 Scholars such as Duffy, Loades, and Wizeman have argued that Mary had a deliberate, calculated agenda in restoring Catholic piety and devotion through key clerical appointments and an intensive program of religious instruction for both clergy and laity. Another area of Marian scholarship has addressed the perspectives and writings of the English exiles on the Continent. Within this vast subject some historians have directed their attention to the concepts of politics, flight, resistance, and identity of the Marian exiles.5 Another group of historians 2 Lambeth Palace Library, MS 2523ff. 5–7v. 3 Karl Gunther, Reformation Unbound: Protestant Visions of Reform in England, 1525–1590 (Cambridge, 2014), pp. 177–179. 4 Susan Brigden, London and the Reformation (Oxford, 1989); Paul Cavill, ‘Heresy and forfeiture in Marian England’, Historical Journal 56 (2013), pp. 879–907; Eamon Duffy, The Stripping of the Altars (New Haven, 1992); Eamon Duffy, Fires of Faith: Catholic England under Mary Tudor (New Haven, 2009); John Edwards, Mary I: England’s Catholic Queen (New Haven, 2011); Jennifer Loach, ‘Mary Tudor and the Re-Catholicisation of England’, History Today 44 (1994), pp. 16–22. David Loades, ‘The Marian Episcopate’ in Eamon Duffy and David Loades (eds), The Church of Mary Tudor (Aldershot, 2006), pp. 33–56; David Loades, The Religious Culture of Marian England (New York, 2010); Judith M. Richards, Mary Tudor (New York, 2008); William Wizeman, ‘The Religious Policy of Mary I’ in Susan Doran and Thomas S. Freeman (eds), Mary Tudor: Old and New Perspectives (New York, 2011), pp.153–170; William Wizeman, ‘The Theology and Spirituality of a Marian Bishop: the Pastoral and Polemical Sermons of Thomas Watson’ in Eamon Duffy and David Loades (eds), The Church of Mary Tudor (New York, 2011), pp. 258–280; William Wizeman, The Theology and Spirituality of Mary Tudor’s Church (Aldershot, 2006). 5 Rudolph P. Almasy, ‘John Knox and A Godly Letter: Fashioning and refashioning the exilic ‘I’’ in Crawford Gribben and David George Mullan (eds), Literature and the Scottish Reformation (Aldershot, 2009), pp. 95–110; Christina Garrett, The Marian Exiles (Cambridge, 1938); Andrew Hadfield, ‘John Ponet and the People’ in Vivienne Westbrook and Elizabeth Evenden

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has specifically raised the issue of Nicodemism, examining the arguments justifying it as well as those condemning it.6 What is lacking in this large body of literature, however, is a formal examination of the evangelical polemic and rhetoric against the Marian restoration. While some historians have briefly addressed certain aspects of the evangelicals’ rhetoric, particularly their attacks on Catholic queenship, the precise ways and methods by which the evangelicals attacked the Marian restoration need further investigation.7 What types of rhetorical devices did the evangelicals utilise in their polemic and how did those devices help to strengthen or weaken their arguments? Were there any ruptures or inconsistencies in the evangelicals’ doctrine from Edward’s reign and what did those ruptures indicate about the evangelicals’ position? This chapter seeks to address these questions and to explore those rhetorical devices using Thomas Becon as a case study. The evangelicals’ Marian tracts give insight into the evangelicals’ responses to specific elements of the restoration of Catholic doctrine and piety. While some historians have denied any polemical activity on the part of the Marian Catholic authors, this chapter will demonstrate that the tracts by both Catholic and evangelical authors reveal a systematic dialogue between each other.8 For in(eds), Catholic Renewal and Protestant Resistance in Early Modern England (Aldershot, 2015), pp. 229–250; Hannibal Hamlin, ‘Strangers in strange lands: Biblical models of exile in early modern England’, Reformation 15 (2010), pp. 63–81; Melissa Franklin Harkrider, Women, reform and community in early modern England (Woodbridge, 2008); Christopher Highley, ‘Exile and religious identity in early modern England’, Reformation 15 (2010), pp. 51–61; Scott C. Lucas, ‘Oppositional Authors and the Rhetoric of Law in the Reign of Mary I’ in Vivienne Westbrook and Elizabeth Evenden (eds), Catholic Renewal and Protestant Resistance in Early Modern England (Aldershot, 2015), pp. 165–182; Peter Marshall, ‘Religious Exiles and the Tudor State’, in K. Cooper and J. Gregory (eds), Discipline and Diversity, Studies in Church History, 43 (Woodbridge, 2007), pp. 263–284; Angela Ranson, ‘The Marian Exile and Religious Self-Identity: Rethinking the Origins of Elizabethan Puritanism’, Perichoresis 13 (2015), pp. 17–36; Jonathan Wright, ‘Marian Exiles and the Legitimacy of Flight from Persecution’, The Journal of Ecclesiastical History 2 (2001), pp. 220–243. 6 Carlos M. N. Eire, ‘Calvin and Nicodemism: A Reappraisal’, The Sixteenth Century Journal 10 (1979), pp. 44–69; Karl Gunther, Reformation Unbound: Protestant Visions of Reform in England, 1525–1590 (Cambridge, 2014); Janet E. Halley, ‘Equivocation and the Legal Conflict Over Religious Identity In Early Modern England’, Yale Journal of Law & the Humanities 3 (1991), pp. 33–52; Andrew Pettergree, Marian Protestantism: Six Studies (Aldershot, 1996); Susan Wabuda, ‘Equivocation and Recantation During the English Reformation: The ‘Subtle Shadows’ of Dr Edward Crome’, The Journal of Ecclesiastical History 44 (1993), pp. 224–242. 7 Jane E. A. Dawson, ‘The apocalyptic thinking of the Marian exiles’, in Mark Wilks (ed), Prophecy and eschatology (Oxford, 1994), pp. 75–91; Jennifer Loach, ‘Pamphlets and Politics, 1553–1558’, Bulletin of Historical Research 48 (1975), pp. 31–44; Andrew Pettergree, Marian Protestantism: Six Studies (Aldershot, 1996); Antoinina Bevan Zlatar, Reformation Fictions: Polemical Protestant Dialogues in Elizabethan England (Oxford, 2011). 8 Thomas Betteridge, ‘Maids and Wives: Representing Female Rule during the Reign of Mary Tudor’ in Susan Doran and Thomas S. Freeman (eds), Mary Tudor: Old and New Perspectives (New York, 2011), p. 142; Eamon Duffy, Stripping of the Altars, p. 529.

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stance, Becon was very much aware of the key priorities in the Marian restoration agenda and responded to them. Further, he incorporated long, descriptive lists and catalogues as well as numerous point-to-point contrasts between Marian Catholicism and Edwardian evangelicalism. While Becon had already implemented these rhetorical tools in his previous writings, his lists became more extensive. This chapter explores how these comprehensive lists and catalogues displayed his keen awareness of the Marian restoration and his willingness to engage in doctrinal debate.

The extent of reformation and Becon’s theological evolution Establishing Becon’s own personal circumstances leading up to his exile is crucial in understanding the larger contextual scene that underlies his tracts. Shortly after Mary’s accession to the throne on 3 August 1553, numerous evangelical clerics were arrested and committed to various prisons around London.9 According to John Foxe’s account, Becon, Jean Véron, and John Bradford were arrested together and taken to the Tower on 16 August.10 Becon was supposedly arrested for his involvement in a riot at Paul’s Cross.11 Becon was released from the Tower on 22 March 1554. The exact circumstances of his release are unknown, but upon it Becon fled with John Ponet to Strasbourg where a small English community of exiles was taking refuge.12 Becon’s parish at St Stephen Walbrook followed the course of Catholic conformity, as did all other parishes in London. William Ventris replaced Becon at St Stephen Walbrook in 1553. Henry Pendleton and Humphrey Busby, respectively, followed Ventris as rector for the remainder of Mary’s reign.13 Pendleton, a Nicodemite, had initially opposed the evangelicals during Henry’s reign, but had supposedly converted to the new faith under Edward.14 While it can be assumed that most of the parishioners at St Stephen conformed to the Marian restoration, a congregant named John Bartholomew fled to join the evangelical community in Basle.15 In 1558 St Stephen still possessed a number of relics that some of the 9 Thomas Becon, A humble supplicacion (Strasburgh: J. Lambrecht, 1554) STC 1730, sig. C8r. 10 John Foxe, Actes and Monuments (London: John Day, 1583) STC 11225, sig. PPPP2v; Thomas Becon, A comfortable epistle (Strasburgh: J. Lambrecht, 1554) STC 1716, sig. D5v. Around February 1554, John Bradford was transferred to a cell and shared it with Cranmer, Latimer, and Ridley. See, Diarmaid, MacCulloch, Thomas Cranmer (New Haven, 1996), p. 560. 11 Garrett, Marian Exiles, p. 84. 12 Garrett, Marian Exiles, p. 84. 13 J. G. White, History of the ward of Walbrook in the city of London (London, 1904), p. 338. 14 Brigden, London and the Reformation, pp. 577–578. 15 Brigden, London and the Reformation, p. 572.

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parishioners had concealed.16 The Marian renewal inevitably included the restoration of church furnishings, and most churches purchased and rebuilt the furnishings needed for worship.17 For instance, Thomas Maugham purchased the banners of St Stephen in 1548 but was forced to sell those banners back to the church at the same price in 1556.18 The exiles in Strasbourg were widely known to sympathise with the Edwardian Reformation, and they supported and defended the use of the 1552 Prayer Book.19 Becon’s close friendship with Ponet and his decision to join the English evangelicals in Strasbourg reveal an affinity with the Prayer Book, an affinity confirmed by his own expressions of support in his writings in Strasbourg. Becon composed two tracts, both of which were published in Strasbourg in August 1554.20 Both were supposedly read aloud among underground evangelical groups in London.21 While in Strasbourg both he and Ponet coauthored a confession of banished ministers, a treatise addressed to Parliament in protest against England’s reconciliation with Rome.22 Dr Richard Cox, formerly the Dean of Christ Church, Oxford before his arrest in 1553 for aiding Jane Grey, was also present in Strasbourg. Cox had arrived in Strasbourg in May 1554, two months after Becon.23 In 1555 Cox with several others departed Strasbourg, having received several invitations from the exile church in Frankfurt. The Frankfurt exiles had pressured the Strasbourg exiles to come and assist them in the theological controversy that had been brewing since 1554. Cox and the group arrived in Frankfurt in March 1555.24 Though it is difficult to pinpoint the precise chronology of Becon’s arrival in Strasbourg, it is highly likely that both he and Ponet relocated with Cox’s group. Ponet was actually suggested as a possible minister for the English exiles in Frankfurt in August 1554, but apparently this never materialised.25 Though he did not become the minister of the exile church, Ponet’s influence on the congregation was marked. When the Frankfurt congregation crafted its own catechism, it expanded upon the 1552 Prayer Book Catechism, specifically in the doctrines of 16 Brigden, London and the Reformation, p. 586. 17 W. H. Frere and W. M. Kennedy (eds) Visitation Articles and Injunctions of the Period of the Reformation (London, 1910), pp. 331–359; Loades, The Religious Culture of Marian England, pp. 62–63. 18 Brigden, London and the Reformation, p. 591. 19 Gunther, Reformation Unbound, p. 168. 20 Thomas Becon, A humble supplicacion (Strasburgh: J. Lambrecht, 1554) STC 1730; Thomas Becon, A comfortable epistle (Strasburgh: J. Lambrecht, 1554) STC 1716. 21 Garrett, Marian Exiles, p. 84. 22 Garrett, Marian Exiles, p. 84. 23 Felicity Heal, ‘Richard Cox’, ODNB (accessed 13 November 2016). 24 Timothy Duguid, Metrical Psalmody in Print and Practice (Aldershot, 2014), p. 16. 25 Robin Leaver (ed), The Liturgy of the Frankfurt Exiles, 1555 (Bramcote, 1984), p. 12.

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original sin and conversion. While the church’s new catechism contained new material, it also closely mirrored Ponet’s A Short Catechisme (1553) at certain points.26 At the heart of the controversy in Frankfurt were two primary disputes. The first centred on the evangelicals’ support or lack thereof for the 1552 Prayer Book. Closely related to this dispute was a question about the extent of reformation in England. Those like Becon, who advocated a liturgy based upon the unmodified Prayer Book also supported and defended the Edwardian Reformation.27 On the other side of the controversy were those, led initially by William Whittingham and more famously by John Knox who believed that the Edwardian reformation was incomplete. The Knoxians argued that the evangelicals did not do enough to purge the Church of England of ‘popery’.28 They rejected the 1552 Prayer Book and insisted that a ‘purified’ version of it be used. Consequently, they adopted the liturgy composed by the French reformer, Valérand Poullain, who himself had arrived in Frankfurt in the spring of 1554.29 Poullain had published his Latin Liturgia sacra in 1551 while he was still in London, ministering in the Strangers’ Church. In 1554 while in Frankfurt, he published a new edition of Liturgia sacra, also in Latin, for the French church there.30 The Liturgia sacra paralleled Calvin’s Strasbourg liturgy, particularly the text of the prayers.31 A. G. Dickens viewed this controversy in Frankfurt as the ‘birth’ of ‘radical’ evangelical groups, maintaining that exile transformed these evangelicals’ attitudes toward monarchy and political views.32 Angela Ranson, however, has correctly noted the continuity of the political views of the evangelicals from the Edwardian Reformation throughout the Marian exile and into the Elizabethan era.33 Yet, Ranson stops short of establishing the deeper connection between the Marian evangelicals and Henrician evangelicas. It is essential to note that some evangelicals – Becon, John Bale, and John Old in particular – went back further to the Henrician church in their Marian writings, insisting that the roots of reformation were established by Henry’s religious policies. These three evangelicals suggested that both Henry and Edward shared the same vision of reformation, an 26 Leaver, Liturgy, p. 12. 27 Gunther, Reformation Unbound, p. 170. 28 Timothy Duguid, ‘The Troubles at Frankfurt: a new chronology’, Reformation and Renaissance Review 14 (2012), p. 247. 29 Andrew Spicer, ‘Valerand Poullain’ in ODNB (accessed 6 January 2016). 30 Michael S Springer, Restoring Christ’s Church: John a Lasco and the Forma ac ratio (Aldershot, 2007), pp. 118–119. 31 Bryan D. Spinks, From the Lord and the ‘Best Reformed Churches’: A study of the Eucharistic liturgy in the English Puritan and Separatist traditions, 1550–1633 (Eugene, 1984), pp. 103– 104. 32 A. G. Dickens, The English Reformation (State Park, 1964), p. 348. 33 Ranson, ‘The Marian Exile and Religious Self-Identity’, pp. 17–36.

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observation that Becon or any other evangelical ironically never intimated during the Edwardian reformation. In fact, as will be demonstrated later, the Edwardian evangelicals suggested and even insisted that the Henrician church was still shrouded in the darkness of papistry. But during the Marian exile, Henry regained his status as hero to some evangelicals, and this chapter will argue that exilic experience was a key factor in reshaping Becon’s perspective on the extent of the reformation in England. Of the three aforementioned only Old was not in Frankfurt. Old fled England sometime before November 1554, leaving his vicarage at Cubbington. He joined the exile community in Emden where he eventually became a citizen in 1556.34 Though not part of the disputes in Frankfurt, Old’s writings express a strong commitment to the Edwardian church. His arguments and methodology, therefore, are invaluable in placing him alongside Becon within the larger context of evangelical support of the Prayer Book and the Edwardian church. In addition, especially since both Becon and Old were intimate friends from their time in exile in Derbyshire, it is helpful to trace any similarities or ruptures between their expressions of thought in this matter. John Bale, on the other hand, had arrived in Frankfurt in September 1554 and was instrumental in the disputes over the liturgy, ardently defending the use of the 1552 Prayer Book.35 He was previously appointed as bishop of Ossory, Ireland in 1552. It was there that Bale attempted to enforce the use of the 1552 Prayer Book, a measure that was largely resisted by the clergy. Bale’s experience in defending the Prayer Book would be useful in making his case for it in Frankfurt. Becon’s defense of the Prayer Book must be understood within the larger context of his response to the Henrician and Edwardian reformations. However, his responses must be analysed and taken cautiously given Becon’s tendency to shift theological positions, possibly for expedience. In his Marian tracts, Becon attempted to establish the evangelicals’ religious continuity by linking the Henrician and Edwardian churches together. In this way he and other evangelicals could portray Mary as illegitimate and heretical. It appears that Becon and the others were responding to Mary’s attempts to prove that she was continuing Henry’s religious legacy. Lucy Wooding and William Wizeman have demonstrated that Mary, at the beginning of her reign, made deliberate attempts to assert herself as the true inheritor of Henry’s religious policies.36 Ironically, Becon and others claimed Henry for the evangelical Reformation. They believed the most effective way to defend Henry’s legacy was to pair him with Edward. 34 C. Bradshaw, ‘John Old’ in ODNB (accessed 25 November 2016). 35 John N. King, ‘John Bale’ in ODNB (accessed 25 November 2016). 36 Lucy Wooding, ‘The Marian Restoration and the Mass’ in Eamon Duffy and David Loades (eds), The Church of Mary Tudor (Aldershot, 2006), pp. 233–234; Wizeman, ‘The Religious Policy of Mary I’, p. 154.

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For example, Old declared himself ‘sworne to the loyaltie and obedyence of those worthy famous christen kinges [Henry VIII and Edward VI] against the sodomitical Syre of Rome’.37 For Bale it was clear that both Henry and Edward shared the same vision of reformation. He expressed this belief by pointing to Old Testament accounts of Israel’s monarchical history. Henry was King David who ‘had gyven an overthrowe to the great Golias of Rome’. Henry’s role as David was to ‘prepare thys buyldynge of the Lorde’. Edward was Solomon who continued his father’s preparation and ‘made all thinges very perfyght’.38 Bale used the biblical metaphor to show that while David prepared the reformation, Solomon ‘perfected’ it. Edward’s reformation, therefore, was ‘very perfyght’. Though Bale made a distinction of roles between Henry and Edward, he affirmed the continuity of the same vision. Becon shared a similar perspective. Becon’s writings demonstrate conflict, tension, and irony in the way he viewed Henry. His view of Henry curiously shifted as the religious and political winds in England changed. In his Henrician tracts Becon initially accepted Henry as ‘another Iosias’.39 He credited Henry with overthrowing the antichrist, ‘that great whore of Babylon,’ for being a defender of the ‘moost sacred and holy Byble’, and excessively extolled Henry for his ‘godly and vertuous enterpryses’.40 Using numerous biblical texts regarding submission to earthly authorities, he exhorted his readers to ‘reverence [Henry] above all creatures mortall’ and to ‘obey [him]’.41 On the other hand, Becon’s Edwardian tracts curiously omit Henry. Though Henry’s name is absent, Becon’s view of Henry’s reign is demonstrated through his contrasts between the Edwardian church and the Henrician church. For instance, his list in Flour of godly praiers (1550), dramatically detailing Edward’s reforms, subtly undermined Henry’s role in reformation. While highlighting Edward as a reformer in the image of the biblical Josiah, Becon’s list of 59 ‘trifling tradicions’, Catholic practices that Edward abolished in the Church, implied that Henry permitted those ‘trifling tradicions and dyrty deceyts’ in the Church.42 In declaring the abolition of the 59 ‘trifling tradicions’, all of which were present in 37 John Old, The acquital or purgation of the moost catholyke Christen Prince, Edwarde the VI (Waterford: E. van der Erve, 1555) STC 18797, sig. A3v 38 John Bale, The vocacyon of Ioha[n] Bale to the bishiprick of Ossorie in Irela[n]de (Wesel, 1553) STC 1307, sig. B7v. 39 Thomas Becon, A pleasaunt newe nosegaye (London: J. Mayler, 1543) STC 1743, sig. A2v. 40 Becon, Pleasaunt newe nosegaye, sigs. A2v, A7v; Thomas Becon, Newes out of heaven (London: J. Mayler, 1541) STC 1739, sig. A6r; Becon used this ‘godly and vertuous enterpryses’ five times in describing Henry in his Henrician tracts. Thomas Becon, Davids harpe ful of moost delectable armony (London: J. Mayler, 1542) STC 1717, sig. M6r; Thomas Becon, The new pollecye of warre (London: J. Mayler, 1542) STC 1735, sig. E3v; Becon, Newe pathway, sigs. B1v–B2r, R6v. 41 Becon, Newe pathway unto praier, sig. R5r. For other exhortations to obey Henry, see Thomas Becon, A Christmas bankette (London: J. Mayler, 1542) STC 1715, sig. B5v; Becon, Pleasaunt newe nosegaye, sigs. H1r, I2v, I5v–K1v. 42 Thomas Becon, Flour of godly praiers (London: John Day, 1550) STC 1719.5, Preface, sigs. 4r–v.

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Henry’s reign, Becon attributed delivery from the antichrist to Edward. Becon’s affirmation accompanying the list of ‘trifling tradicions’, ‘We are made free from hys [antichristes] yorke [sic]’ suggests such emancipation did not exist or perhaps only partially existed under Henry’s reign. In another underhand attack on Henrician doctrine, Becon noted that England, prior to Edward’s reign, was in ‘horrible blyndnes and monsterous ignoraunce’.43 Ironically, only eight years earlier Becon declared that through Henry ‘ygnorancy and blyndenes are exiled and banysshed’.44 Edward’s reforms resulted in ‘pestilences banyshed and driven out of this most florishing realm of England’.45 These and other statements are indicative of the fact that Becon viewed Edward’s reforms as not merely a continuation of Henrician doctrine, but a stark contrast from it. Moreover, Becon’s observations of Henry’s reforms suggest a conflicted, inconsistent image of Henry. Was Henry really the promoter of the evangelical reformation from Becon’s perspective or did Henry prolong the ‘horrible blyndnes and monsterous ignoraunce’? Another example of the conflict that permeates Becon’s view of the Henrician legacy is his list of 43 ‘dreames and fantasyes’, facets of liturgy that Mary restored in the Church of England. These facets are essentially identical to his 59 ‘trifling tradicions’, Catholic practices and liturgical items that Henry permitted in the Church. Based upon Becon’s two lists, a Catholic theologian of the day could legitimately conclude that Mary was ultimately restoring Henrician worship in the Church. Yet Becon does not admit that point. While Mary argued that her religious agenda was to return the Church back to its state during Henry’s reign, Becon instead changed his position, defending Henry as the impetus of true reformation. These and other statements demonstrate Becon’s conflicted perspective on the role of the Henrician church and its relationship with Edwardian reforms. Further, Becon seems to contradict his own affirmations in his Henrician tracts that Henry overthrew the kingdom of antichrist. Was it Henry or Edward who liberated England from ‘antichristes yorke’? Did Becon intend to communicate a different level or role of reformation in distinguishing Edward from Henry? Or did Becon genuinely experience a change in his thinking during the Edwardian period that Henry was not the impetus for reformation that he once thought the king was? And what galvanised his sudden change in exile to revere Henry as the founder of the English reformation? Exilic experience seems to have been a key factor in reshaping Becon’s perspective. Retrospection of the Reformation in exile afforded an opportunity for the evangelicals to consider the larger picture of reform. It appears that in the 43 Becon, Flour of godly praiers, Preface, sig. 3v. 44 Becon, Newe pathway, sig. R5r. 45 Becon, Flour of godly praiers, Preface, sig. 3v.

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grand scheme of reformation, Becon was willing to overlook his former differences with Henry and concede that without Henry an Edwardian reformation would have been not possible, a fact that he repeatedly returned to. Whatever the precise reason for Becon’s abrupt change of perspective regarding Henry’s role in the Reformation, he was committed to both the Henrician and Edwardian reformations in his Marian writings. In a passage from Humble supplicacion, Becon cited Matthew 15:13, a statement of Christ declaring, ‘Every plant, which my heavenly Father hath not planted, shall be rooted up’. Becon extended the metaphor, and applied it to the Marian regime. It was his way of condemning Mary’s restoration of Catholic doctrine as a direct attack on both Henrician and Edwardian doctrine: For suche plantes as the devill and hys chaplens had planted were thorowe the diligence and godly zele of thy servauntes kynge Henry the eyghte and kyng Edward the syxte moste blessedly plucked up and thy holy ordinaunces agayne planted unto the greate ioye and unspeakeable conforte of all the faithfull. But now thorow the tyranny and blynde zele of certayne are thy blessed statutes plucked up by the rootes and set in agayn are the damnable decrees and crocked constitucions of Antichriste.46

Taken in the broader context of lamentation and exile in the passage, Becon’s intention in the extended metaphor was to validate the continuity of evangelical doctrine as expressed in both the Henrician and Edwardian churches and the subsequent rupture caused by Mary’s restoration. Further, by linking Henrician and Edwardian doctrines to biblical truth, he argued that the doctrine of the ‘true church’ was being ‘plucked up by the rootes’. This plant metaphor combined with the commonly used vine metaphor from Psalm 80, one that evangelicals frequently used, underscores the type of polemic used to distinguish between true religion and false religion.47 Becon’s point here almost certainly was a direct response to Mary and her theologians who contended that they were the ones perpetuating Henry’s doctrinal legacy. Essential to understanding Becon’s exilic perspective is his view of ‘true religion’, a phrase he used repeatedly in his tracts from 1554. The concept of a ‘true religion’ or a ‘true church’ was not a novel one to this period. Becon had discussed this point in his Henrician tracts. However, the discussion over whether the Edwardian church constituted the ‘true church’ became one of the main points of contention in the disputes among the Frankfurt exiles.48 ‘True religion’ for Becon was the evangelical gospel and the practice of it within the church. Within the context of exilic mourning within Humble supplicacion, Becon noted that during 46 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. A6r. 47 Becon, Comfortable epistle, sig. A4r; Humble supplicacion, sig. A7v; Dawson, ‘Apocalyptic thinking’, p. 86. 48 Gunther, Reformation Unbound, pp. 165–170.

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Henry’s reign ‘the true religion began to have good successe’.49 While Henry prepared the way for ‘true religion’ to succeed, God ‘gavest unto us his sonne to be oure Kynge a Prince’ to be ‘another Iosias altogether bent utterly to wedeout al fals religion’. Becon’s friend, Old, likewise affirmed that the Edwardian church was ‘the undenyable churche of Iesus Christ bothe true, faythfull and catholike’.50 Bale also viewed Edward as the guardian of the ‘true church’, comparing Edward to one of the two witnesses in Revelation 11.51 Becon’s statement describing the Henrician and Edwardian church as the ‘true church’ must be read in the same context of the aforementioned extended agricultural metaphor borrowed from Matthew 15. Reminiscent of Bale’s statement uttered one year before Becon’s observation, the latter declared that Edward’s reformation was ‘after a moste perfect manner to set up thy holy religion’.52 While Becon viewed both Henry and Edward as equally vital to the reformation movement, he, like Bale, articulated a plodding progression of reformation. Both used arguments that suggest a distinction of roles between the two kings: Henry as the preparer of true religion and Edward as the executor of it. Again, it must be highlighted that Becon’s view of Henry assuming the role of preparer underscores the radical transformation in his thinking from his writings three years prior when he observed that everything before Edward was ‘blyndnes’ and ‘ignoraunce’.53 In order to account for Becon’s conflicted view of Henry, it is necessary to plunge deeper than Becon’s mere references or lack thereof to Henry during the Edwardian and Marian periods. One of the keys to understanding Becon’s inconsistent view of Henry’s role in the Reformation is the evolution in Becon’s own thinking regarding some cardinal doctrines, even some that have been traditionally considered core ‘evangelical’ doctrines. In spite of his loyal support for Henry and general agreement with the Ten Articles of 1536, Becon did adamantly oppose some Henrician liturgical practices and pious acts of devotion within his Henrician tracts. Though he refrained from criticising Henry directly, he objected to the practice of gilding images, the use of candles, the practice of going on pilgrimages, praying to Mary and the saints, and the dispensing of pardons. He expressed his objections in a series of almost-identical lists within four of his Henrician tracts [see Figure 6.1]. His objections directly attacked some of the liturgical practices sanctioned by the Ten Articles [see Figure 6.2]. He called these practices ‘grosse and corporal vices’, and wrote of their ‘blinding’ effects upon worshippers.54 Unlike his views on absolution, auricular confession, and 49 50 51 52 53 54

Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. A6v. Old, Acquital, sig. A6r. Bale, Vocacyon, sig. C6v. Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. A7r. Becon, Flour of godly praiers, Preface, sig. 3v. Becon, New pollecye of warre, sig. H5v.

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transubstantiation, Becon continued to denounce these specific liturgical practices during the rest of his clerical ministry without any shift in his thinking. These objections raise the question why Becon was so enthusiastically supportive of Henry when he was highly critical of key elements of the Church’s liturgy. Figure 6.1 Becon’s objections to Henrician church liturgy and piety New yeares gyfte, sig. C5r (1543)

New pollecye of warre, sig. H6r (1542) ‘gyldynge of images’

Newe pathway unto praier, sigs. R2r, S6r (1542)

‘gyldynge of images’

Christmas bankette, sig. G1r (1542) ‘gyldynge of images’

‘gaddying on pilgrimage’

‘gaddying on pilgrimage’

‘gaddying on pilgrimage’

‘gaddying on pilgrimage’

‘pardons’ ‘reliques’

‘gyldynge of images’

‘pardons’

‘pardons’

‘candels’

‘candels’

‘candels’

‘monasteries’

‘ceremonies’

‘long prayers’

Figure 6.2 Becon’s objections to Henrician liturgy corresponding to the Ten Articles of 1536 Becon’s objections in his Henrician tracts (1541–1543) Praying to ‘our lady’ and to the ‘sayntes’.55

Liturgical practice sanctioned by the Ten Articles of 1536 Praying to ‘our blessed Lady’ and to the saints. (Article VIII)

‘Gyldynge of images’ and the Images were to be used as examples of ‘virtue’. presence of any image in worship.56 Worship of images was prohibited. (Article VI) ‘Settyng up of candels’.57

Bearing of candles (Article IX)

‘Confidence in ceremonies’.58

Ceremonies were not to be ‘contemned and cast away, but to be used and continued’. (Article IX)

‘Garmentes’.59

Use of vestments in ceremonies. (Article IX)

Despite some objections to Henrician liturgy, Becon enthusiastically supported many of Henry’s reforms regarding ecclesiastical piety and liturgy. He rejoiced that the ‘famous Images’ were ‘iustly plucked downe, and conveyed oute of the 55 Becon, Newe pathway, sigs. C8r–v. 56 Becon, New yeares gyfte, sig. C5r; Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. G1r; Becon, New pollecye of warre, sig. H6r; Becon, Newe pathway, sigs. R2r, S6r. 57 Becon, Christmas bankette, sig. G1r; Becon, New pollecye of warre, sig. H6r; Becon, Newe pathway, sigs. R2r, S6r. 58 Becon, New pollecye of warre, sig. H6r. 59 Becon, Newe pathway, sig. R4v. This is Becon’s only reference to clerical vestments in his Henrician tracts.

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waye’.60 He also noted in approval that the ‘monasticall sectes have put of[f] theyr cowles and monstruous garmentes’.61 He lauded the use of the Apostles’ Creed and the recitation of the Lord’s Prayer and the Decalogue.62 Another aspect of the Henrician liturgy that Becon apparently supported during the Henrician reformation was the use of the English Litany, which was incorporated in the liturgy in 1544 for the purpose of having a uniform, accessible model for praying in the context of war.63 Becon never explicitly mentioned the Litany in his Edwardian tracts, but in 1554 he praised Henry for initiating the Litany and lauded Edward for supporting and continuing its practice.64 He then condemned Mary and the ‘papistes’ for removing ‘this godly and mooste wholsome Letanye’ and replacing it with ‘Ora pro nobis, Salve festa dies, or some other blasphemous songe’.65 Another significant observation on Becon’s defense of the Litany is its context within the Frankfurt church. The Litany was a sticking point for many of the Knoxians. Both Knox and Whittingham vocally objected to using the Litany in particular and made it one of the primary arguments in rejecting the usage of the unmodified 1552 Prayer Book.66 On all the above aspects of Henrician liturgy – the Litany, recitations, clerical vestments, and iconography – Becon continued his stance during the Edwardian reforms and into Marian exile. However, he drastically modified his position on some practices and doctrines, demonstrating an ongoing change in his theology. For example, he initially advocated the Sacrament of the Altar as sanctioned in Article IV in the Ten Articles of 1536. He also strongly defended the doctrine of transubstantiation, affirming matter-of-factly that ‘Christes very body and bloud’ were present at the ‘Sacrament of the altare’.67 Becon’s wording closely mirrored that of both The Bishops’ Book of 1537 and the Second Article of the Six Articles of 1539 on the doctrine of transubstantiation.68 It has been assumed by some modern scholars that Becon had always been a devoted sacramentarian, but that view is summarily disproved through his writings in 1542, in which he staunchly supported the

60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67

Becon, Newe pathway, sig. R4v. Becon, Newe pathway, sig. R4v. Becon, Newe pathway, sig. R5v. Richard Rex, Henry VIII and the English Reformation (New York, 2006), p. 104. Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. B5v. Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. B6r. W. J. Sheils, The English Reformation, 1530–1570 (London, 1989), p. 36. Thomas Becon, A potacio[n] or dri[n]kynge for this holi time of le[n]t (London: J. Mayler, 1542) STC 1749, sig. B5v; Becon, Newe pathway, sig. L2r. 68 Anonymous, The institution of a Christen man (London: Thomas Berthelet, 1537) STC 5164, sig. K3r; Henry Gee and William John Hardy (eds), Documents Illustrative of English Church (London, 1896), pp. 303–319.

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corporeal presence of Christ in the Eucharist.69 Eight years later Becon refuted transubstantiation in Iewel of ioye, calling the doctrine of the Catholic Mass, ‘blasphemous’.70 Becon’s radical shift on his position of transubstantiation is curious, given he became one of the harshest critics of transubstantiation as demonstrated in his Edwardian and Marian tracts. A more thorough analysis of his refutation of transubstantiation and his view of Eucharistic presence will be unpacked in the second section of this chapter. In his Potacio of 1542, Becon also instructed his readers to observe the Sacrament of Penance.71 His practical directions included words and phrases identical to those of Article III, ‘The Sacrament of Penance’, from the Ten Articles. Further, he advocated the doctrine of absolution, calling it ‘the moost swete and confortable salve’ and describing it as containing the ‘moost confortable wordes’.72 Becon, likewise, condoned the practice of auricular confession. He argued that the practice should not be ‘reiected and cast awaye, but rather restored to the olde purite and to the use, for the which it was fyrste instituted’.73 He expanded upon the benefits that auricular confession bestowed, ‘high tranquilite to the troubled conscience of a christen man’.74 His was exactly the same argument used in Article Three, that auricular confession would bring ‘certain comfort and consolation of their [penitents’] consciences’.75 He also observed that one of the purposes of contrition was for the ‘consolacion of youre consciences’.76 Another theological concept that Becon elaborated upon, again using specific phrases from Article III of the Ten Articles, was that of the effects of repentance, the ‘amendment of the former lyfe’ and the ‘fruyts of penaunce’. In explaining the results of repentance in one’s life, he argued that true penance produced a daily desire to ‘walke now in light’. One’s ‘whole lyfe’ would be nothing but ‘a perfecte meditacion of purite and innocencye’.77 The Third Article, likewise, stressed the role of penance in one’s life in combination with the endeavor of ‘increasing continually in purity and cleanness of life’. 69 Brian Green, A Companion to Anglican Eucharistic Theology (Leiden, 2012), pp. 104–105; Seymour Baker House, ‘Thomas Becon’ in ODNB (accessed 15 December 2016). House even explicitly stated that Becon spoke against the real presence in the Eucharist during the Henrician reformation. 70 Thomas Becon, The iewel of ioye (London: J. Day and W. Seres, 1550) STC 1733, sig. P2v. 71 Becon, New yeares gyfte, sigs. L6v–L7v; Becon, Potacio[n]. Becon’s Potacio is an extended explanation and defense of penance, absolution, and contrition with particular reference to Lent. 72 Becon, Potacio[n], sigs. E4v, E6r. 73 Becon, Potacio[n], sigs. E1v–E2r. 74 Becon, Potacio[n], sig. E4v. 75 Gee and Hardy, Documents, pp. 303–319. 76 Becon, Potacio[n], sig. D4r. 77 Becon, Potacio[n], sig. E8v.

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It is difficult to gauge Becon’s stance on the Sacrament of Penance during the Edwardian period. No reference was made to the doctrines of penance, auricular confession, and contrition in his Edwardian tracts. However, his Castell of comforte (1549) showed his evolving view on absolution that ‘God alone absolveth, and freli forgeveth the sinners of so many as unfaynedly repent’.78 While he was highly critical of much of the Catholic practice of it, Becon did not demonstrate a qualitative change in his view of absolution from 1542. For instance, he still advocated absolution as long as it was pronounced in English.79 He also continued to argue, as in 1542, that absolution ‘confyrmed, stablished and conforted’ the penitent’s conscience.80 His arguments in Castell of comforte strongly suggest that Becon still advocated mandatory confession to the ‘ghostly fathers’ as he did in Potacio. The fact that Becon never explicitly condemned penance, auricular confession, or contrition in his Edwardian tracts, including in his lengthy lists of Catholic practices, seems to indicate that he still supported those traditions. This then would place Becon as an evangelical anomaly during Edward’s reformation. Peter Marshall has argued that the practice of auricular confession was declining in the 1540s due in part to the government’s suspicion that the priests were using it to criticise Henry’s reforms.81 The decline of the confession continued with the introduction of the Order of Communion of 1548, which lifted the requirement of compulsory confession. While it did not entirely abolish confession, Marshall contends that the practice rapidly diminished throughout the Edwardian reformation as it was only observed voluntarily.82 Becon’s defense of mandatory confession in 1549 as a ‘divine oracle’ and insistence that it be observed was highly unusual among evangelicals. The reformers opposed the practice, because they believed it was indicative of an elite priesthood and it bestowed the power of binding and loosing from sin that contradicted the Gospel.83 Even Becon’s mentor and superior Cranmer had qualms about compulsory confession and opposed it.84 Becon’s view did change. Though it is difficult to pinpoint exactly when that transformation of thinking occurred, judging from a terse critical reference to auricular confession in the Humble supplicacion of 1554, he may have abandoned his favourable views on auricular confession around the early 1550s.85 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85

Thomas Becon, The castell of comforte (London: John Day, 1549) STC 1712, title page. Becon, Castell of comforte, sig. F5r. Becon, Castell of comforte, sig. F5r. See also sigs. E4r, F1r. Peter Marshall, The Catholic Priesthood and the English Reformation (Oxford, 1994), pp. 28– 29. Marshall, Catholic Priesthood, pp. 32–33. Marshall, Catholic Priesthood, p. 33. Malcolm Yarnell III, Royal Priesthood in the English Reformation (Oxford, 2013), p. 231. Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. C2v.

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But in New postil of 1566, a collection of numerous sermons upon various portions of the Gospels, Becon’s new precise rejection of penance, contrition, and absolution was clear.86 This massive treatise is largely a repudiation of those Catholic doctrines he embraced and aggressively defended in his Potacio of 1542 [see figure 6.3]. Ironically, he dismantled his former argument for absolution, which he articulated in both his 1542 and 1549 tracts. For instance, Becon had formerly stressed the comfort that auricular confession and absolution brought to their practitioners. But in New postil he argued that the Catholic understanding of auricular confession instead ‘abolished trewe comforte’ and ‘sette up a very place of tourment’ by imposing an unattainable standard of spirituality that one could never reach.87 The end result of the Catholic teaching on the Sacrament of Penance, he insisted, was ‘despaire’ and ‘vexation’. Figure 6.3 Becon’s doctrinal changes in relation to the Sacrament of Penance Potacio (1542) Contrition is ‘for the consolacion of youre consciences, and the reioysynge of your hertes’.88

New postil (1566) ‘For suche contrition and felynge of synne…should plucke us from faith, make us flee from Christ, and be a fearde of him’.89

‘Auriculare Confession bringeth to men divers ample commodities and large profytes’.90

‘The fearefull consciences have bene much vexed [in Confession]’.91

‘Confession bringethe high tranquilitte to the troubled conscience of a christen man’.92

‘In oure owne confession and contrition… our heartes [should] never be quiet, neither shold we at any tyme bee certayne and sure of our salvation’.93

‘Declare the diseases of your soules unfaynedly, that ye maye be healed with the moost swete and confortable salve of Absolucion’.94

Regarding absolution: ‘For the trewe comforte (that is) the remyssion of synnes throughe Christe, was abolyshed. And there at laste was sette up a very place of tourment’.95

86 Thomas Becon, A new postil conteinyng most godly and learned sermons (London: Thomas Marsh, 1566) STC 1736. 87 Becon, New postil, sig. B4r. 88 Becon, Potacio[n], sig. D4r. 89 Becon, New postil, sig. EE7v. 90 Becon, Potacio[n], sig. E3v. 91 Becon, New postil, sig. B4r. 92 Becon, Potacio[n], sig. E4v. 93 Becon, New postil, sig. HH8r. 94 Becon, Potacio[n], sigs. E6r–v. 95 Becon, New postil, sig. B4r.

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Figure 6.3 (Continued) Potacio (1542)

New postil (1566)

‘We humbly are contented to confesse to our ghostly fathers suche offences, as wherewith we have offended God’.96 ‘Therfore lette everye one, whyle he hath tyme, flye unto the medicine of Penaunce, unlesse he be commytted unto everlastynge fyre’.98

‘But we knowledge only that confession to be necessarie, when mannes mynd confesseth freely his synnes before God’.97 ‘For whenne shoulde we knowe and be sure, that we have bene sorye ynoughe, confessed, doone penaunce ynoughe, and made satisfaction ynoughe? Therefore hathe CHRIST taken all that matter frome us, and layde it uppon hym selfe’.99

Whereas he had formerly defended the practice of the penitent receiving absolution from the priest, he now explicitly forbade going to any priest for absolution, God himself having the only authority to pronounce absolution.100 Rather, he instructed a penitent to ‘go unto hys Pastor…and heare of hym the glad and ioyful tydyngs of the Gospell’.101 Further, while he had once defended the priest’s role in the remission of sins by instructing penitents to ‘confesse to our ghostly fathers suche offences’, he now argued for a universal priesthood. Any penitent had the authority and liberty to approach God directly for the remission of sins.102 Becon’s change of heart on some significant doctrines, namely transubstantiation, absolution, and auricular confession is striking, yet it is difficult to assess what provoked this paradigmatic shift in his theology. Was it political expedience that motivated his doctrinal changes? His two lapses into recantation would suggest a lack of fortitude under pressure to conform, and could perhaps be linked to his propensity to vacillate in his beliefs. His Nicodemite tendencies were strong and it is difficult to dismiss the possibility that Becon was politically motivated even in his doctrinal changes. Becon never justified his doctrinal changes, nor did he suggest his rationale in his shifts. He merely stated his beliefs, beliefs that were obviously evolving from period to period. Becon’s lack of justification for his doctrinal shift is intriguing in light of his aggressive attempts to justify his abandonment of the evangelical community in Kent and his subsequent period of silence in exile.103 As was discussed in both Chapters 1 and 3, Becon’s attempts to defend himself and to protect his own self-image is a theme 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103

Becon, Potacio[n], sig. E3v. Becon, New postil, sig. N7r. Becon, Potacio[n], sig. E7r. Becon, New postil, sig. HH8v. Becon, New postil, sigs. EE7r, Xx1v–Xx2r. Becon, New postil, sig. FF1r. Becon, New postil, sig. SS8r. See Chapter 3.

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that permeated his writings in the 1540s. Yet there were no such attempts to defend or explain such dramatic changes in his theological views. It is curious then that no attempts to justify himself exist, especially when such doctrinal views were concerning cardinal doctrines that were the very identity of the demarcation between Catholics and evangelicals. Or did Becon genuinely hold his views with conviction and then changed his doctrinal views with the same conviction after serious reflection? Could this be the reason that no explanation on Becon’s part was necessary? As has already been demonstrated in previous chapters as well as earlier in this one, Becon often unapologetically expressed opinions that contradicted the evangelical establishment. His views on genuflection and clerical vestments, in particular, differed from those of most other evangelicals.104 Whether the changes in his views were motivated by political expediency or heartfelt personal conviction, Becon’s doctrinal evolution reveals at the very least a personal conflict and tension. The example of Becon is instructive in that it dismisses the idea that all evangelicals during Marian exile were united in beliefs that continued into Elizabeth’s reign.105 This simply does not fit in Becon’s case. The evolution and conflict in his theological thinking was still in progress during Edward’s reforms. And as has already been explored and argued, his views on absolution during Edward’s reformation would change again by 1566. The metamorphosis of Becon’s doctrinal views stands as an important corrective to scholarship that has portrayed both Becon and other evangelicals as consistent in their beliefs.

Becon’s Polemic: the Catholic Mass and the spiritual nurture of children While Becon criticised numerous doctrines and practices of the Catholic church, most of them were passing references that were included within his signature lists. However, Becon’s two primary interests were the Eucharist and the spiritual nurture of children. Both subjects were treated polemically with point-by-point contrasts and other devices of classical rhetoric. As has already been noted, Becon’s view of transubstantiation underwent a massive transformation. Becon’s tracts focused primarily on the Eucharist with particular emphasis on transubstantiation. This is not surprising given that both evangelical and Catholic theologians hotly debated the subject of the Lord’s Supper.106 Yet the question should be raised whether Becon’s meticulous articulation of the evangelical view 104 See Chapters 1 and 4. 105 Ranson, ‘Marian Exile’, p. 17. 106 Wooding, ‘The Marian Restoration and the Mass’, pp. 228–229.

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of the Lord’s Supper contrasted with the Catholic Mass was more than just a polemical exercise. Could it have been deeply personal for Becon? Perhaps denouncing a view that he had formerly embraced was one way to deal with his newly held beliefs and to mentally affirm those new views. In treating the Catholic Mass and transubstantiation in particular, Becon repudiated each aspect as mere ‘imaginacion’, ‘fantasye’, or ‘supersticion’. Catholic theologians such as Cardinal Pole insisted that they possessed genuine faith as expressed in belief in transubstantiation. Pole, for instance, criticised Cranmer for elevating human reason and science over faith in rejecting transubstantiation.107 Catholic theologians appealed to the Bible in defending the doctrine, arguing for a literal interpretation of Christ’s words: ‘This is my body’. They also affirmed that faith was a prerequisite for understanding the mystery of transubstantiation.108 But the evangelicals argued for what Matthew Milner has called ‘sensory integrity’ in the Eucharist, accusing the Catholics of ‘imaginications’ in Eucharistic piety.109 The actual sacraments, argued the evangelicals, could not contravene the physical laws of nature. Becon regularly connected evangelicalism with human reasoning, while pairing the Catholic church with ‘fantasy’ and ‘magic’. Other evangelical authors also pursued this kind of rhetoric. They portrayed the evangelical church as an institution that embraced a synthesis of humanism and the Bible, while depicting the Catholic church as a system founded upon ‘imaginacion’. This argument was an especially slippery one for the evangelicals who insisted that faith was essential for conversion. The line between faith and fantasy was a blurred one, and Catholic authors, recognising the slipperiness of the argument, attacked the evangelicals’ apparent downplaying of faith.110 Becon’s Marian tracts also underscored this tension between faith and human reason. How did Becon and other evangelicals navigate this tension? Becon maintained that God allowed the physical laws of the universe to govern all things, even in a spiritual context. He carefully articulated his position on transubstantiation by submitting three reasons for rejecting the doctrine. First, he argued from the basis of Christ’s bodily ascension. He affirmed that Christ’s corporeal presence in the sacrament was an impossibility, because ‘Christ is ascended into heaven and sytteth on thy right hande and there shall remayne concerning hys humanite’.111 This was the traditional argument commonly used

107 Wooding, ‘The Marian Restoration and the Mass’, p. 245; Wizeman, Theology and spirituality, pp. 54–55. 108 Wizeman, Theology and spirituality, p. 166. 109 Matthew Milner, The Senses and the English Reformation (New York, 2011), p. 261. 110 Wooding, ‘The Marian Restoration and the Mass’, p. 245. 111 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sigs. B3v–B4r.

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by the continental reformers including Calvin and Zwingli to reject both transubstantiation and Luther’s doctrine of consubstantiation.112 Becon’s second argument against the doctrine of transubstantiation also took aim at the doctrine’s abandonment of natural, physical laws in regards to the corporeal presence of Christ that dictate that the elements will spoil.113 The natural spoiling of the elements would inevitably display an image of Christ’s body that would be erroneous and even sacrilegious. Therefore, the doctrine of transubstantiation was not only impossible at the physical level, but it metaphorically and theologically communicated an aberrant message regarding Christ’s body.114 The evangelicals’ belief in the strictly physical nature of Christ’s body in heaven was the basis of their adamant opposition to the concept of adoration of a sacrament.115 Becon was appalled that Catholic communicants would ‘so too falle doune before it to honoure and worshippe it, to prayse and call upon it, to fle[e] unto it for soccoure’.116 Third, Becon appealed to three historical sources for this argument: the Bible, patristic tradition, and the early Greek church.117 The appeal to early church authority was a powerful argument in favour of religious uniformity and continuity, but the problem was that patristic citations also played a significant role for Catholic authors in claiming religious continuity. The tension between faith and human reason was a real issue in this debate over the Lord’s Supper, and there were some discrepancies in the evangelicals’ argument that raise some questions as to their method of argumentation. As was discussed in Chapter 4, the evangelicals technically rejected the idea of the miraculous and supernatural, yet in practice they preached ‘faith’ and accepted prophetic signs and fulfillment.118 This tension can be seen in a different situation, specifically in Becon’s description of the ‘Lordes soupper’. The Supper is a memorial of the body breaking and bloud sheading of our saviour Christ and that as we outwardly fede of the breade and wyne so we inwardly thorow fayth fede of the blessed bodye and precious bloude of Iesus Christ our Lord unto the greate and unspeakable conforte bothe of soule and bodye.119

Thus ‘fayth’ was an essential element in spiritual nourishment.

112 Lee Palmer Wandel, The Eucharist in the Reformation (Cambridge, 2006), pp. 103, 161. 113 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. B7v. 114 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. B7v. Also, see Becon, Comfortable epistle, sig. A6v for a similar statement. 115 Wandel, The Eucharist in the Reformation, p. 163. 116 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. B4r. 117 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sigs. B7r–v. 118 See Chapter 5. 119 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. B3v.

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The concept of spiritual nourishment did not originate with Becon, but it was promoted and taught by Luther, Zwingli, Calvin, and Bullinger.120 Unlike those reformers, Becon never elaborated further on what he meant by spiritual feeding. But what was unique about Becon’s understanding of the Lord’s Supper was that it combined Zwingli’s ‘memorialism’ with Calvin’s emphasis on spiritual presence in the elements. The other striking feature of Becon’s description was that he indicated a physical benefit to the partaking of the Supper when he spoke of the ‘conforte bothe of soule and bodye’. This aspect of physical nourishment was absent in the discussion of the Eucharist among the continental reformers. This idea of both physical and spiritual nourishment, then, raises an important question: Did the taking of the physical elements perform some type of inexplicable, supernatural benefit to the soul and body? Did not this ‘conforte of bodye’ require faith on the part of the communicant? Becon was silent on his position, which leaves his concept of physical nourishment a mystery. So while Becon and other evangelicals rejected the idea of the corporeal presence of Christ in the sacrament, they all agreed that there was a mystical, spiritual presence of Christ in the Supper received by ‘fayth’. Even Cranmer, as early as 1538, expressed his belief that there was some type of Eucharistic presence in the sacrament.121 Evangelicals taught and accepted the Holy Spirit’s activity in the Supper, an activity that was acknowledged as supernatural.122 Yet, they failed to adequately express the nature of spiritual feeding with the same criteria they imposed upon the doctrine of transubstantiation. In other words, how could spiritual nourishment from physically tangible food be explained using Becon’s three arguments from the physical laws of nature and history? The evangelicals’ silence on this point is significant. Further, Becon and other evangelical authors described the Catholic Mass in terms of magic and witchcraft so as to widen the polarity between the evangelical church and the Catholic church, arguing that the former was the voice of reason and common sense. Unsurprisingly, all the evangelicals targeted the doctrine of transubstantiation and the Mass as mere ‘sophistry’.123 Becon, likewise, repeatedly criticised the Mass for its ‘sophisticall’ ambience.124 Of his numerous uses of witchcraft polemic related to the Mass, the most striking passage was one in which he created an ambience of the occult: ‘After they have whyspered a fewe Latin wordes with one breath over the bread and wyne and have blessed, crossed, 120 John W. Riggs, The Lord’s Supper in the Reformed tradition: an essay on the mystical true presence (Louisville, 2015), pp. 42–44, 71–82, 90–107. 121 D. G. Selwyn, ‘Cranmer’s Library: its potential for Reformation Studies’ in Paul Ayris and David Selwyn (eds), Thomas Cranmer: Churchman and Scholar (Woodbridge, 1993), p. 25. 122 Wandel, The Eucharist in the Reformation, pp. 159–160. 123 Milner, Senses, p. 260; Wooding, ‘The Marian Restoration and the Mass’, p. 245. 124 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. B4r.

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coniured and handled them after their ghostely manner, there remayneth no more breadde and wyne’.125 Unlike other evangelical authors, however, Becon deliberately evoked the image of witchcraft for each Catholic practice he discussed including confirmation and baptism, which will be discussed later. This point is significant in the context of recent scholarship that has averred that the evangelicals linked witchcraft to only the Mass and clerical celibacy.126 The second area of concern for Becon was, characteristically for him, the spiritual education of children, particularly through catechising and confirmation. He envisioned that children should ‘be able to saye the articles of the fayth, the Lordes prayer and the ten commaundementes and to aunswere to such questions as are contayned in that shorte Catechisme which was apointed to be learned of every chylde’.127 The ‘shorte Catechisme’ was the 1552 Prayer Book catechism and Becon’s wording is identical to the instructions outlined in the catechism.128 Becon’s commitment to the 1552 Prayer Book is obvious in the way he directly quoted from it in explaining his rationale for the spiritual nurture of children. Becon called this catechism a ‘godly and learned catechisme wherin owr ionge [young] ones wer moste vertuously brought up unto the greate ioy of theyr parentes, the singulare confort of al godly Christianes’.129 The sequence of the 1552 Prayer Book catechism was: Creed, Decalogue, Lord’s Prayer. Formatted in question/answer order, this catechism followed Calvin’s sequence that was derived from his belief that one had to possess the knowledge of God first in the creed before turning to God or even understanding the Decalogue.130 But, as Becon observed, the Catholic theologians ‘condemned that Christen Chatechisme as heresye and have procured certayn Antichristiane articles from the Quene’ for children to be ‘brought up that they myghte learne to healpe the Prieste say masse’.131 What ‘certayn Antichristiane articles’ was Becon referring to? No Marian Catholic children’s catechism was produced until Bonner’s An honest godlye instruction, printed in 1555, and published in January 1556.132 Bonner’s Instruction emphasized the importance of countering the evangelicals’ efforts in educating children with the Prayer Book catechism.133 Composed in 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133

Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. B3v. Milner, Senses, p. 260; Parish, Clerical Marriage, pp. 126–127, 130. Becon, Humble supplicacion, sigs. C2v–C3r. Brian Cummings (ed), The Book of Common Prayer (Oxford, 2011), pp. 58–63; Ian Green, The Christian’s ABC: Catechisms and Catechizing in England, c.1530–1740 (Oxford, 1996), p. 598. Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. C3v. Green, Christian’s ABC, pp. 281–282. Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. C3v. Green, Christian’s ABC, p. 598; Edmund Bonner, An honest godlye instruction (London: Robert Caly, 1556) STC 3281. Bonner, Instruction, sig. A2r.

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both English and Latin, Bonner’s catechism was much longer and more complicated in form than the Prayer Book catechism. The sequence was: The maner of blessing, the Lord’s Prayer, Ave Maria, the Apostles’ Creed, instructions to help the priest at mass, several different units of sayings or utterances, graces to be said at meals, the Decalogue, and the Beatitudes. While there was no officially printed Marian Catholic catechism at the time of Becon’s writings, Becon was most likely referring to Bonner’s 124 visitation articles for the diocese of London, published in 1554. Articles 106–113 detailed the spiritual training of children including the teaching of the Creed of the Catholic Church and the Decalogue.134 Articles 110 and 111 directly repudiated the ‘heresy’ that was taught children during Edward’s reign, and it seems that Becon’s observation regarding Mary’s condemnation of the evangelical catechism was related to this. These articles suggest that there was some type of program underway for the spiritual instruction of children. While Becon specifically promoted the 1552 Prayer Book’s instructions for the confirmation of children, he castigated the Catholic confirmation of children. In describing the practice of Catholic confirmation, Becon constructed a scene of the occult. He equated it to sorcerye, develerye, wytchcrafte, iuglinge, leger demayne and all that nought is[.] The Bisshop mumbleth a fewe latin woordes over the chylde, charmeth hym, crosseth hym, smeareth hym with stinckinge popish oyle, and tyeth a lynnen bonde about the chyldes necke and sendeth hym home.135

In his critique of infant baptism in the Catholic church, he utilised similar language. He accused the priests for putting ‘Heatenish rites and wicked coniuracions’ in the sacrament. In baptism, the priests ‘bewytcheth the water, shutteth the church doore, coniureth the devel out of the poore younge Infaunt’.136 Becon’s references to the confirmation of children are significant in that, apart from John Old’s passing reference to it, he was the only evangelical that addressed the subject.137 Only three Marian theologians addressed this subject in their writings. Leonard Pollard, rector of Ripple and chaplain to Bishop Richard Pates, briefly listed confirmation in relation to the priest’s duties.138 Bonner, in his Profitable and necessarye doctrine of 1555 submitted a brief defense of the

134 135 136 137 138

Frere and Kennedy, Visitation Articles, pp. 355–356. Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. C3r. Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. B6r. John Old, A short description of Antichrist (Emden: E. van der Erve, 1555) STC 673, sig. A8r. Leonard Pollard, Fyve homiles of late (London: William Griffith, 1556) STC 20091, sig. G8r.

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practice with some general comments.139 Bonner’s apologetic is significant in his extensive citations from the church fathers, including Augustine, Clement, Jerome, Cyprian, and Dionyse. He cited the fathers to specifically prove that the anointing of oil on a child was not a ‘new invention’, a clear reference to the evangelicals’ criticism of Catholic practices.140 On the other hand, Thomas Watson, Catholic activist and bishop of Lincoln, went to great lengths in defending the practice of christening. In meticulous detail Watson explained the symbolism of each item and action during christening.141 He also criticised evangelical confirmation and insisted on reconfirmation of those confirmed by Protestants.142 Since Becon was the only evangelical in exile who elaborated on the confirmation of children, it is probable that Watson was directly interacting with Becon’s criticisms of the Catholic practice of confirmation and baptism of children. In fact, Watson’s detailed explanation of every facet, including Becon’s reservations, strongly suggests a direct refutation of Becon’s argument.143 However, there was a contradiction in Becon’s condemnation of the Catholic practice of confirmation and baptism, for it undermined his endorsement of the 1552 Prayer Book, for example, regarding the sign of the cross at baptism. Clearly, Becon rejected the priestly act of making a cross, since he condemned the Catholic church for doing so. This example again underscores the perpetual tension in Becon’s rhetoric regarding the Prayer Book, a tension effectively demonstrated through his use of rhetorical devices.

Becon’s rhetorical devices: religious polemic and sensory stimulation Becon’s religious polemic must be examined within the context of literary and rhetorical analysis. As has already been demonstrated, Becon’s mastery of the English language revealed a skilled humanist and rhetorician. He was by far the master of rhetoric among the evangelicals, and his writings utilise a wide array of devices in order to express his religious polemic, showing his commitment to humanism. Becon extensively utilised his favourite rhetorical device, the enumeration, for rhetorical and dramatic effect, even more so than in his Edwardian 139 Edmund Bonner, A profitable and necessarye doctrine (London: John Cawood, 1555) STC 3283.3, sigs. O4r–O5v. 140 Bonner, Profitable and necessary doctrine, sig. O4r. 141 Thomas Watson, Holsome and catholyke doctryne concerninge the seuen Sacramentes (London: Robert Caly, 1558) STC 25112.5, sig. D3v. 142 Watson, Holsome and catholyke doctryne, sig. D4r. 143 Watson, Holsome and catholyke doctryne, sigs. C4r–C5r.

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writings.144 In Comfortable epistle, he listed 43 items pertaining to Catholic worship that Mary had restored and that the ‘papistes teache at this day’ [see figure 6.4].145 Becon’s list of 43 ‘dreames and fantasyes’ of the ‘papistes’ mirrored his list of 59 ‘trifling tradicions’ that he catalogued in 1550.146 There is nothing that suggests that Becon intended anything significant or symbolic in the number of items in his enumerations. Yet the sheer number of items that occupy nearly a whole page has the effect of bombardment on the reader’s visual stimuli. No other evangelical writer matched Becon in his use of lengthy lists [see figure 6.5]. Figure 6.4 Becon’s 43 ‘dreames and fantasyes’ in A comfortable epistle (1554), sigs. A6r–v (* indicates the identical item in Becon’s 59 ‘trifling tradicions’ in Flour of godly praiers, 1550.) ‘papistes’ dreams and fantasyes’ 1. aultars*

Bonner’s 124 Visitation Articles for London Diocese (1554) 53

2. tabernacles* 3. images* 4. roode loftes

57

5. hanging up of the pyre 6. setting up of candles before idols* 7. halowyng of bread*

50, 52, 76

8. salt 9. water* 10. palmes*

49, 50, 52, 54, 58, 76 76

11. fyre 12. ashes*

76

13. oyle*

59, 76

14. crisme

59, 76

15. rynges 16. candles*

54, 61, 76

17. Ladyes psalters

54

18. S. katerines knottes 19. intercessions and merites of sainctes 144 Richard Sherry, A treatise of the figures of grammer and rhetorike (London: Robert Caly, 1555) STC 22429, sig. F1v. 145 Becon, Comfortable Epistle, sigs. A6r–v. 146 Becon, Flour of godly praiers, Preface, sigs. 4r–v. For the table, see Chapter 4.

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Figure 6.4 (Continued) ‘papistes’ dreams and fantasyes’ 20. Purgatorye* 21. prayenge for the dead

Bonner’s 124 Visitation Articles for London Diocese (1554) 76

22. trentalles* 23. diriges*

76

24. commendacions

76

25. masses of Requiem 26. masses of Scalaceli* 27. masses of Recordare 28. masses of Si iniquitates 29. masses for all diseases 30. masses for all thinges good and badde 31. auriculare confession* 32. crepyng to the crosse with candles, egges, money 76 33. Iustification of workes*

77

34. fre[e] will

77

35. popysh fastinge*

95

36. prayers withoute understanding 37. fayth withoute knowlege 38. devocion without the sprete 39. Satisfactory masses 40. propiciatory sacrifices* 41. transsubstanciacion* 42. adoracion of the Sacramentall breade 43. the reall, corporall, substanciall, carnall, naturall and sensible presence of Christe in the Sacrament

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Figure 6.5 Becon’s 43 ‘dreames and fantasyes’ in A comfortable epistle (1554), sig. A6v.

In comparing his 1554 list with that of 1550, the irony is that the earlier catalogue was a celebration of evangelical triumph in abolishing countless aspects of Catholic piety in the Henrician church, while his 1554 catalogue was a lamentation of the restoration of Catholic worship. The other difference is that there were only 19 items on each list identical to each other. What accounts for this difference is that the Marian list underscored the doctrines and elements of the Mass, demonstrating both how divisive an issue it was and how important it was to Becon. Four items consisted of specific doctrines such as transubstantiation and adoration of the bread, while seven items on his list were specific types of Masses. On the other hand, the Edwardian list prominently featured iconography, furniture, and vestments, which accounts for 21 of the 59 items. By contrast, only nine items in this category appeared on the Marian list. These differences at first glance might suggest that Becon’s priorities had altered based upon the change of religious climate. Indeed, one of the primary priorities for the evangelicals during the Edwardian reformation was iconoclasm. Yet the Marian exiles without exception directed their attention away from iconoclasm to

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the Mass.147 Becon certainly attacked the Mass more than he did during Edward’s reign. But Becon’s attacks on iconography did not diminish. For instance, Becon constructed several ‘smaller’ enumerations with catalogues of church furniture and images that he condemned.148 Iconography was highly personal to Becon from his days as the rector at Brenzett and Ipswich, and this theme of idolatry runs as a constant stream throughout his writings.149 In this particular area, Becon deviated from the ‘expected’ shift of priorities that historians have insisted existed among the exiled evangelicals. Becon, hence, challenges the recent portrayal of evangelicals’ Marian polemic as exclusively against the Mass. For instance, the first item on the list of 43, ‘aultars’, was a point of personal irritation for Becon, which is perhaps the reason why he placed it first. David Loades has noted that in all 134 surviving churchwardens account books, the respective parish’s altar was rebuilt by the end of 1554 along with the restoration of all vestments and liturgical books.150 The generally swift restoration of church furniture was due to the pressure applied by Bonner in his visitations to various dioceses in 1554.151 He exhorted the parishes and the people to speedily fund and restore the necessary equipment in the churches. Based upon this fact, then, it can be assumed that the altar had generally been restored in churches across in England, and Becon was well aware of this in placing it first in his list and in expressing his indignation at the speed at which the altars were rebuilt.152 But what perturbed Becon even more was that the communion table, which the altar replaced, was destroyed. He accused the Catholics of calling the communion table an ‘Oysterborde’ and of replacing these ‘semely tables’ with ‘bloudy and bocherly altars… more mete for such bloudy bochers than honest and pure tables’.153 In addition to Becon’s accuracy in understanding what was occurring in England with the restoration of church furniture, the parallel between his 1554 catalogue and Bonner’s 124 Visitation Articles for London Diocese is peculiarly intriguing. Bonner’s Articles were published near the end of 1554 after Becon’s Comfortable Epistle, but Becon’s catalogue still demonstrated how both the choice of items and the specific terminology used corresponded precisely with Bonner’s Articles. This raises the question of how and where Becon was receiving his news regarding the Marian restoration. While the source of Becon’s news is uncertain, it can be assumed that he 147 Margaret Aston, England’s Iconoclasts, Vol. 1 (Oxford, 1988), pp. 262–266; Wooding, ‘The Marian Restoration and the Mass’, pp. 252–253. 148 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sigs. C1r–C2r, D6v–D7r. 149 See Chapter 1. 150 Loades, Religious Culture, p. 62. 151 For instance, see article 53 in Bonner’s Articles for London Diocese (1554) in Frere and Kennedy, Visitation Articles, p. 344. 152 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. B1v. 153 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sig. B2r.

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was either receiving his news directly from those in the underground London congregation or from English exiles in Strasbourg who were connected to evangelicals who remained in London. Either way, there was a steady flow of correspondence coming from London, and the English exiles on the Continent were receiving up-todate information on religious affairs back home.154 In explaining the Bible’s teaching on the Lord’s Supper, Becon submitted eleven point-by-point contrasts with the Mass [see Figure 6.6]. Just as Becon used this rhetorical device in 1549, so he did again in order to demonstrate that the Bible’s teaching on the Supper contradicted the ‘papistes’ teaching on the Mass.155 It is striking that Becon’s position on the Mass had not shifted at all. What is also noteworthy is the fact that Becon was much more in alignment with the 1552 Prayer Book than he was with the 1549 Prayer Book. As MacCulloch has noted, Bucer influenced Cranmer in revising the 1549 Book, especially in regards to downplaying the ceremonial aspects of the Lord’s Supper.156 For instance, visibly absent in the 1552 Prayer Book was any reference to clerical vestments. Further, almost all the references to ceremonialism were removed. Becon, however, still differed in two areas from the 1552 version. He insisted that the laity should be sitting, not kneeling at the table. And he argued that the priest should also be sitting, not standing. In both cases, he appealed to Christ’s example at the Last Supper recorded in the Gospels. Figure 6.6 Becon’s 11 contrasts of the Lord’s Supper to the Catholic Mass with corresponding references to the 1552 Book of Common Prayer in An humble supplicacion (1554), sigs. B6v–B8v. Aspect of the Lord’s Supper 1. Preaching

Christ’s sacrament

Papistes mass

‘thy sonne bothe before and after the ministracion of the Sacrament preached unto his disciples’

‘The papistes preache nothing at all’

2. Language

‘in that tunge that all the disciples understoode’

‘utter all thinges in a straunge language’

3. Clerical vestments

‘without putting on of ‘decke them selfes lyke any disguysed apparel’ hycke scorner in game players garmentes’

1552 Book of Common Prayer ‘After suche sermon, homelie, or exhortacion…’

154 Carrie Euler, Couriers of the Gospel: England and Zurich, 1531–1558 (Zurich, 2006), pp. 97, 103. 155 Thomas Becon, The iewel of ioye (London: J. Day and W. Seres, 1550) STC 1733, sigs. P2v– Q2v. For the table, see Chapter 4. 156 MacCulloch, Thomas Cranmer, p. 405; Franklin-Harkrider, Women, reform and community, pp. 98–99.

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Figure 6.6 (Continued) Aspect of the Lord’s Supper

Christ’s sacrament

Papistes mass

1552 Book of Common Prayer

4. Posture of the priest and people

‘Thy sonne ministred the Sacrament sitting at the table with hys disciples’

‘stande at the aultare and geve the bread and wyne to the people kneling’

5. Giving of the sacraments

‘gave the Sacramental bread to the disciples in their handes’

‘thrust the bread into the people mouthes’

‘the Communicants knelyng shoulde receyve the holye Communion’, ‘Then the Priest standing up…’ ‘deliver it to other ministers, yf any be there present (that they may help the chief minister,) and after to the people in their handes kneling’

6. Nature of the sacraments

‘ministred the ‘minister it to the laye Sacrament of hys people onely under body and bloude one kynde’ under bothe kyndes to hys disciples’

7. Breaking of the bread

‘Thy sonne brake the Sacramentall bread’

‘The papistes use no breakinge of the bread’

8. Treatment of the bread

‘Thy sonne did appointe the Sacramentall bread to be broken and eaten’

‘kepe it whole and hange it up in the pyxe yea and carrye it about for a pageaunte’

‘it shall suffyse that the bread bee such, as is usuall to bee eaten at the Table wyth other meates’

9. Purpose of the sacraments

‘instituted the Sacrament to be a memoriall of hys bodye breakinge and bloude shedding’

‘the bread and wyne is turned into the naturall bodye and bloude of Christe God and manne’

‘they remayne styll in theyr verye naturall substaunces, and therefore may not be adored’

10. Sacrificial nature of the sacraments

‘willed the Sacramentall bread and wyne too be eaten and droncken for a remembraunce off that one and alone sacrifice’

‘make of the Sacrament a propiciatorie, expiatory and satisfactory sacrifice’

11. Symbolism

‘Thy sonne ordayned ‘make it a Sacramente the Sacramente too be of dissencion, a signe and token of discorde and debate’ love whan the godly come together’

‘Then shal the minister first receyve the Communion in both kyndes hymselfe’

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Further, Becon submitted a list of thirteen contrasts in Humble supplicacion that highlighted the general differences between the evangelicals’ doctrines and those of the Marian Catholic church [see Figure 6.7].157 In some cases, Becon implemented a transition, a rhetorical device used to explain or elaborate upon an element before returning to the list.158 The significance of this list of contrasts is that it attacked a number of facets of Catholic doctrine, rather than focusing on the Mass or clerical celibacy as other evangelicals did. Becon intended to show that the Catholic church divided from historic Christianity at every level, not only on the ‘main’ doctrines. Figure 6.7 Becon’s 13 contrasts in Humble supplicacion (1554), sigs. A8r–C7r. Doctrine

‘We were taught’

‘But nowe the papistes teach’

1. Mediation

‘that Christ God and man is oure alone mediatoure, advocate and intercessore’

‘Mary, Iames, Peter, Ihon, Paule, Andrew, and we know not who are also oure mediators, advocates and Intercessoures’

2. Purgatory

‘the precious bloude of oure savioure Christe is the alone and sufficient Purgatory’

‘that there is a purging place after this lyfe where the soules of the faithful shalbe miserably tormented with fyrye flames’159

3. Christ’s sacrifice

‘that Christ thy sonne and oure alone Saviour made upon the aultare of the crosse whan he suffered and dyed for us’

‘they also muste offer Christ up againe dayly in their masses for the synnes of the people’

Bonner’s 124 Visitation Articles (1554)

157 Becon, Humble supplicacion, sigs. A8r–C7r. 158 Sherry, Treatise of the figures of grammer, sig. G4r. 159 See Wizeman, The theology and spirituality of Mary Tudor’s church, pp. 242–248. Wizeman argues that there was a deliberate restoration and revival of the concept of purgatory by the Marian Catholic theologians. However, the place of purgatory was absent in Marian Catholic literature with the exception of the reprint of Thomas More’s Supplication of Souls in 1557. The Marian authors described purgatory with brevity, intentionally leaving out the graphic details of pain that characterised the writings of the previous late-medieval and Henrician Catholic theologians. While late-medieval Catholic writings are replete with graphic references to the flames and pains of purgatory, the Marian theologians adopted what Peter Marshall has called a ‘reverential agnosticism’ of purgatory. See Peter Marshall, ‘The Map of God’s word’ in Bruce Gordon (ed), The Place of the Dead: Death and Remembrance in Late Medieval and Early Modern Europe (Cambridge, 2000) pp. 120–121. Yet, note Becon’s traditional Catholic portrayal of purgatory with emphasis on ‘fyrye flames’.

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Figure 6.7 (Continued) Doctrine

‘We were taught’

‘But nowe the papistes teach’

Bonner’s 124 Visitation Articles (1554)

4. Eucharist

‘to receave the misteries of the Lordes bodye and bloude together accordinge too the ordinaunce of Christe’

6. Purpose of the Lord’s Supper

‘that the Lordes soupper…is a memorial of the body breaking and bloud sheading of our saviour Christ’

‘after they have whyspered a fewe Latin wordes…there remayneth nomore breadde and wyne’

7. Prayer

‘too worship the[e] in spirite and truethe and too praye unto the[e] every where lyftinge up pure handes’

‘to praye unto the[e] and 89 unto all the company of heaven with boynge and bleatinge in the quyre, with playeng on the organs, with sayeng ladies psalters on beades’

‘But now no communion is had for the popish and uncharitable massemonger utterly abusinge the Lordes soupper eateth and drincketh up all alone at his idolatrous aultare’ 5. Sacraments ‘to receave the Sacrament ‘minister after their sorte of the bodye and bloude the Sacrament of of Christ under both thankesgevinge to thy kyndes’ Christians onely under one kynde’

8. Forgiveness ‘that thou alone forgevest us all our synnes whan soever we earnestly repent’

‘oure synnes can not be forgeven excepte we confesse them unto the prieste’

9. Salvation

‘to looke for all salvacion of the[e] thorowe faythe in the bloude of Christe’

‘to looke for salvacion in 54, 61, 76, 77 our owne good workes in the intercession of sainctes’

10. Idolatry

‘to caste out of our temples the Idols and Mawmettes’

‘Idols are there placed manifestlye’

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Figure 6.7 (Continued) Doctrine

‘We were taught’

‘But nowe the papistes teach’

Bonner’s 124 Visitation Articles (1554)

11. Confirmation of children

‘to bring up oure chyldren in the principles of Christen religion that whan they should come to be confirmed of the bishop they mighte be able to saye the articles of the fayth’ ‘too bringe up oure chyldren in the knowledge of the[e] and thy sonne Christ’

‘Ye are bounde by the order of our mother the holy church to see that this chylde be confyrmed soo sone as is possible’

35, 82, 83, 103; also see Marian Injunctions (1554), 14

‘that it is lawfull for every manne, be he Byshoppe… to take unto hym a ffaythe full yoke fellowe and with her to marrye in thy feare’

‘have broughte the godly and lawefull marriage of ministers and their wyves…that it is now counted whordome’

12. Teaching of children

13. Clerical marriage

‘condemned that Christen 106–113; Marian Chatechisme as heresye and have procured Injunctions, 17 certayn Antichristiane articles from the Quene’ 1–3; Marian Injunctions, 7– 9

Special attention must be given to the specific rhetorical devices that Becon implemented within these massive enumerations, because these devices shed further light on how he communicated with his audience and demonstrate Becon’s technique in meshing the appropriate rhetorical tools with his message of evangelical continuity. His ability to impress the text upon reader’s mind through rhetorical skill may have contributed, in part, to the popularity of his writings. He was unique among the exiled evangelicals in incorporating repeated enumerations with an overwhelming number of items within those enumerations. The only other evangelical who came close to Becon’s lists was John Old. Yet Old’s quantity pales in comparison to Becon’s, and his enumeration never exceeded eleven items.160 In addition to the marked effect that the superfluous number of items in his enumerations would have upon the reader’s visual senses, Becon incorporated other rhetorical devices within his enumerations. Becon’s lists were always dominated by the asyndeton, the absence of conjunctions, creating a breathless sensation while also solidifying those items in the reader’s memory. Richard Sherry, in his 1555 treatise on rhetoric, explained the objective of the asyndeton was to ‘serve to sharpnesse: because in maner they stryke the mynde with often 160 John Old, Acquital, sig. A2v.

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strokes’.161 Especially in Becon’s list of 43 ‘dreames and fantasyes’ where almost every item was either a single word or no more than three words, each item served as a ‘stroke’ upon the reader’s mind. Reading them aloud without conjunctions would bombard the senses of both reader and listener with the constant strikes of words as well as the heaping effect. This technique was highly effective in impressing upon the reader the discontinuity of Catholicism. Another device within Becon’s lists was amplification. The use of amplification was common in lists of contrasts, such as in Becon’s, and the objective of these was to portray the exact opposite in dramatic terms in order to widen the gulf between them.162 Further, the contrasts served the purpose of portraying the evangelical position as traditional Christianity against the ‘new’ and ‘straunge’ doctrine of Catholicism. Another type of amplification was the device of congeries, the perpetual heaping of words or phrases in an intentional progression, usually toward a climactic conclusion.163 For example, Becon’s 43 ‘dreames and fantasyes’ does appear to have a progression of thought, beginning with simple pieces of furniture, proceeding to pious acts, and then concluding with divisive doctrine as the actual phrases and concepts become longer in word count. The culmination, therefore, of the Catholic church’s ‘dreames and fantasyes’ was its teaching on transubstantiation. The catalogues and point-to-point contrasts were powerful rhetorical devices for Becon to portray Catholicism as the ‘new’ heresy, one that deviated from the historic, ‘true religion’. It was the Catholic church, he argued, that departed from the Bible as well as the teachings of the church fathers. Becon’s rhetorical devices, therefore, visually highlighted the rupture of Catholic teaching both in relation to historic Christianity and in relation to England’s history.

Conclusion Though the Marian restoration was brief, significant activity occurred in the polemical battle between the evangelicals and the Catholics. The polemic launched from both sides of the religious war revealed a serious conflict between two groups vying for the claim of the true inheritors of traditional Christianity. An analysis of this polemic is instructive in understanding the arguments intended to connect a respective doctrine or practice to the Christian tradition. While evangelical polemic could be filled with tensions in the utilisation of slippery language as well as flaws in reasoning, rhetorical devices could be highly 161 Sherry, Treatise of the figures of grammer, sig. D8r. 162 Sherry, Treatise of the figures of grammer, sig. F8v. 163 Sherry, Treatise of the figures of grammer, sig. G2v.

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effective in displaying the continuity or discontinuity of a particular religious tradition. Rhetorical devices had the added benefit of both visual and aural stimulation that could make deep impressions as strokes on the mind of the reader and listener. In Becon’s case, the Marian exile revealed a deeper, personal conflict, one of his own doctrinal views. While he expressed a strong commitment to both the Henrician and Edwardian reformations, and ultimately to the 1552 Prayer Book, his Marian writings exposed numerous inconsistencies. His conflicted relationship with the Prayer Book raises the question of his role in the Frankfurt controversy. While his exact role is difficult to determine, his siding with the Prayer Book supporters did generally support his statements in his 1554 tracts. Yet his Edwardian and Elizabethan writings repeatedly criticised the Church for condoning Catholic elements within the liturgy, most notably clerical vestments. Inevitably, his views would place him on the ‘wrong’ side of the 1559 Prayer Book. Becon’s theological and even psychological complexities as a reformer help to shed necessary light on the nature of religious reform, demonstrating that not all evangelicals fit neatly into compartments that make up the vast puzzle that is the English Reformation.

Chapter 7. ‘Sedicious’ words: Becon and the art of ‘rayling’

As demonstrated in Chapter 5, Becon and the evangelicals’ political message was one of both submission and treason, a mixture of political allegiance and sedition during the Edwardian period. Tensions and contradictions abounded in their rhetoric. As has been argued, Becon was unique among the commonwealth men in that he never claimed to represent either the poor commons or parliament. He never used the collective ‘we’ in arguing his case. His role was that of arbiter, confronting both parties equally and urging each to reconciliation. During the 1549 uprising, Becon was critical of both sides, accusing both of ‘sedicion’. Yet, as was also shown, his proclivity towards rebel political rhetoric in his Fortresse of 1550 drew him closer to the realm of ‘sedicion’. Becon’s strategy was similar during the Elizabethan period. On the one hand he equated the magistrates’ laws with ‘the worde of God’, exhorting subjects to ‘hear’ them and not be the authors of sedition.1Yet he condemned Elizabethan magistrates for ‘dryving’ their subjects to poverty, advocating Catholic traditions, and not defending their subjects’ rights. In such cases, he urged all subjects to disobey the magistrates and to ‘rayle’ against them. Becon, therefore, allowed for disobedience if a magistrate contradicted the ‘worde of God’. But, in contrast, other evangelicals argued that the strict obedience of the subjects of a commonwealth was an absolute necessity, for that obedience would be a safeguard to any society. Yet some evangelicals advocated what A myrroure for magistrates (1559) permitted when unjust magistrates demanded obedience from their subjects: disobedience even to the point of violent resistance or overthrow. This chapter will explore these conflicting views espoused by English evangelicals and will argue that Becon’s view of civil disobedience was a moderate and uncommon one. Becon’s position, one that shunned armed, violent resistance while rejecting the notion that strict obedience to authority would preserve the commonwealth,

1 Thomas Becon, A new postil (London: Thomas Marsh, 1566) STC 1736, sig. NN5r.

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will be considered, compared, and contrasted with specific evangelicals holding positions contrary to his own. There is an overall lack of discussion specifically on ‘commonwealth’ vocabulary in the early Elizabethan period. Historians of early modern England have underestimated the way this rebel political language and treasonous vocabulary lasted beyond the mid-Tudor period. One tendency of most scholarship on rebel language and political protest has been to limit the discussion to the 1549 uprisings in the rural communities as it relates to the conflicts between the poor commons and the rich gentry. As discussed in Chapter 5, the significance of evangelical political rhetoric between 1549 and 1553 has been sorely underestimated in recent scholarship. It will be argued in this chapter that the continuity of evangelical rebel rhetoric into the Elizabethan era is an essential piece of an understanding of the English commonwealth. Another tendency of scholarship has been to highlight the connection of the rebel rhetoric of the Marian exiles with the Elizabethan evangelicals. A. G. Dickens postulated that the ‘radical’ political views of the evangelicals was linked to their exilic experience.2 Jane Dawson likewise contends that exile had ‘permanently radicalised’ the evangelicals.3 However, this chapter will demonstrate that the commonwealth rhetoric of the early Elizabethan evangelicals must be linked back to and properly understood within the framework of their Edwardian rebel language. A third recent strain of scholarship has focused on the monarchical republicanism of the Elizabethan government at the highest echelons of government.4 This emphasis may have unfortunately drawn attention away from the ‘common wealth’ rhetoric at the lower political levels of early Elizabethan society, including the relationships between subjects, evangelicals, and local magistrates. While some scholars have briefly touched on obedience and resistance, there is currently no extended treatment of the significance of rebel political rhetoric during the early Elizabethan period. The nuances of political views among the evangelical establishment immediately after 1559 have been overlooked in scholarship. Therefore, it is crucial to investigate and assess Becon’s rebel political rhetoric in the 1560s in order to gain a sense of how his and other evangelicals’ rhetoric fitted in the Elizabethan political landscape. This chapter will track and consider the continuities and ruptures in Becon’s ‘common wealth’ 2 A. G. Dickens, The English Reformation (State Park, 1964), p. 348. 3 Jane Dawson, ‘Revolutionary Conclusions: The case of the Marian Exiles’, History of Political Thought 11 (1990), p. 271. 4 Stephen Alford, The Early Elizabethan Polity: William Cecil and the British Succession Crisis, 1558–69 (Cambridge, 1998); John F. McDiarmid (ed), The Monarchical Republic of Early Modern England (Aldershot, 2007); Natalie Mears, Queenship and Political Discourse in the Elizabethan Realms (Cambridge, 2005); Patrick Collinson, Elizabethans (London, 2003).

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rhetoric. His justification of ‘rayling’ and ‘sedicious’ words will be explored in further detail, contrasting it with those evangelicals who condemned any type of treasonous speech. Recent historians of early modern commonwealth literature have also narrowed their research to general examples and observations of seditious language, treasonous speech, and political resistance. Scott Lucas, for instance, has argued that the Myrroure demonstrates an attitude of political resistance and sedition during the Elizabethan period, but he never explores these specific seditious attitudes in other literature outside Myrroure.5 David Cressy’s work focuses on the use of seditious and slanderous speech against Elizabeth I herself in the context of gendered political protest.6 Phil Withington has considered the evolution of the uses of ‘res publica’, ‘common weale’, and ‘common wealth’ during the Tudor period.7 His meticulous tracking of these terms in relation to their frequency or lack thereof in print is instructive, but he overlooks the specific qualities and nuances of ‘common wealth’ rhetoric, including euphemisms, negotiations, political dialogues, and the spectrum of civil disobedience. The absence of references to early Elizabethan literature in his work is particularly striking. Andy Wood’s work on rebel political vocabulary during the 1549 uprisings is a significant contribution to the understanding of perspectives on rebellion and resistance in early modern England.8 This chapter counters Wood’s point that 1549 is the termination of one genre of rebellions, and not the first of a new tradition of rebel rhetoric. This chapter seeks to further contribute to the discussion of commonwealth rhetoric by examining the important issues of obedience and disobedience within the commonwealth. It also aims to fill the missing spaces in scholarship in relation to evangelical disagreement concerning the functions of commonwealth government and its relationship with its subjects. While most recent scholars have glossed over the evangelicals’ political views on obedience and disobedience to magistrates, it is crucial to dissect their views and to place Becon properly within this context. It is also critical to avoid the mistake, one that most scholars have committed, of lumping all evangelicals into the same political persuasion. The evangelicals’ political views were simply not that cut-and-dry. Rather, the 5 Scott Lucas, ‘‘Let none such office take, save he that can for right his prince forsake’: A Mirror for Magistrates, Resistance Theory and the Elizabethan Monarchical Republic’ in John F. McDiarmid (ed), The Monarchical Republic of Early Modern England (Aldershot, 2007), pp. 91–107. 6 David Cressy, Dangerous Talk: Scandalous, Seditious, and Treasonable Speech in Pre-modern England (Oxford, 2010). 7 Phil Withington, Society in Early Modern England: The Vernacular Origins of Some Powerful Ideas (Cambridge, 2010). 8 Andy Wood, The 1549 Rebellions and the Making of Early Modern England (Cambridge, 2007).

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diversity of evangelicals in the sphere of politics is highly complex and fraught with conflicting views and arguments.

‘Sedicious’ words: Thomas Becon and the rhetoric of political protest and rebellion When Becon returned from the Continent in 1559, he was immediately thrust back into the busy life of a cleric. Until his death in 1567 he went through a series of clerical appointments, though the durations were brief. He was a prebendary of Canterbury Cathedral from 1560 until his death in 1567. He was also appointed rector of Buckland, Herfordshire in 1560, followed by a vicarship at Christ Church in Newgate the following year. He was vicar at Sturry from 1562 to 1564, and at the same time was rector at St Dionis Backchurch in London from August 1563 until his death. Finally, in 1563 he held a brief rectorship at his former cure, St Stephen, Walbrook.9 Becon was considered for some possible bishoprics according to William Cecil’s list, but was never appointed.10 Becon’s ministerial activities outside of his parishes appear to be quite prolific. Becon played a significant role in the visitations of 1559 under Elizabeth’s new administration. He led the circuit that visited the dioceses of Canterbury, Rochester, Chichester, and Winchester.11 He was also involved in the 1563 Convocation, but the extent of that involvement is uncertain.12 He also filled in for Archbishop Parker in diocesan visitations. Becon was one of twenty-three preachers who delivered sermons at Paul’s Cross in London between 1565 and March 1566.13 His collection of sermons, published as A new postil in 1566, suggests his reputation as a preacher must have been substantial, since this was reprinted in 1567, the year of his death.14 Becon’s published sermons ‘upon all the Sonday Gospelles’ were intended to ‘be redde in the Church thorowout the yeare’ corresponding with the liturgical calendar. For instance, there is a sermon on Palm Sunday, four Lenten sermons, five Easter sermons, four Advent sermons, two Ascension sermons, a sermon on Whitsunday, and twenty-five sermons in relation to Trinity Sunday. To what extent his New Postil sermons were used is unknown. Becon intended them for the ‘great profite not onely of al[l] Curates 9 Seymour Baker House, ‘Thomas Becon’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2017). 10 William P. Haugaard, Elizabeth and the English Reformation: The Struggle For a Stable Settlement of Religion (Cambridge, 1968) p. 48. 11 House, ‘Thomas Becon’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2017). 12 Haugaard, English Reformation, pp. 29, 359. 13 Mary Morrissey, Politics and the Paul’s Cross Sermons, 1558–1642 (Oxford, 2011), p. 195. 14 Thomas Becon, A new postil (London: Thomas Marsh, 1566) STC 1736; Thomas Becon, A new postil (London: Thomas Marsh, 1567) STC 1737.

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and spirituall Ministers, but also of all other godly and Faythfull Readers’.15 The specific audiences and locations of his sermons are not recorded in this collection. It is difficult to discover specific aspects of Becon’s personal life as he rarely disclosed anything about his ministerial or personal activities. Due to his clerical offices, it can be assumed that he was residing primarily in London. But in 1566 he indicated that he was residing in a house in Canterbury.16 By 1560, Becon and his wife had three young children, two of whom were born in Germany and one was born and baptised in London.17 The older two, Theodore and Rachel, were mentioned by name in The syckemans’ salve, when they accompanied their father on a visit to the house of a terminally ill man within his parish.18 Not only were Becon’s sermons well received, but his other Elizabethan tracts were also popular bestsellers of an astounding magnitude. His Syckemans’ salve (1560), for instance, became wildly popular, undergoing twenty-one more editions until 1631, nearly sixty-five years after his death (see Figure 7.1). In addition to Becon being a household name at the time, the reason for its popularity was due to an increasing preoccupation with and subsequent growing market for Protestant ars moriendi literature in England during the latter half of the sixteenth century.19 The Protestant condemnation of the doctrine of purgatory and the Calvinist doctrine of predestination galvanised the desires of men and women to experience both a ‘godly’ life and death. Becon’s tract was a guide to achieve and experience this reality. The other notable bestseller was his Principles of Christian religion, a children’s catechism, originally published in 1553, but reprinted three times during Elizabeth’s reign. Becon’s effort to produce what would be his final children’s catechism may have stemmed from his desire to replace his first catechism, A newe catechism (1543), as it was declared ‘heretical’ and subsequently burned during Becon’s heresy trial in 1543.20 The reprints of his Principles entered into a market of an increasing demand for evangelical children’s catechisms in England and aimed to counter the efforts of the Catholic Church in catechising children.21 In addition to these reprints, Becon produced A new catechisme sette forth dialogue wise in 1564 as part of a collection of his complete works, The worckes of 15 16 17 18 19

Becon, New postil, Title page. Becon, New postil, Preface, sig. b6r. House, ‘Thomas Becon’, ODNB (accessed 30 January 2017). Thomas Becon, The syckmans’ salve (London: John Day, 1560) STC 1756.5, sig. B3v. Peter Marshall, ‘Angels around the deathbed: variations on a theme in the English art of dying’ in Peter Marshall and Alexandra Walsham (eds), Angels in the Early Modern World (Cambridge, 2006), p. 83. 20 Ian Green, The Christian’s ABC: Catechisms and Catechizing in England, c. 1530–1740 (Oxford, 1996), p. 580. 21 Green, Christian’s ABC, pp. 51, 59.

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Thomas Becon.22 Dedicated to his own three children, the Catechisme was a massive work and, unlike his Principles, it was a dialogue between a father and his children in question and answer form. Both catechisms contained the expected doctrinal sections on faith and repentance, the Decalogue, the Lord’s Prayer, and instructions on baptism and the Lord’s Supper. Both also included an extended section on duties of various groups in society including ‘hye powers, subiects, bishops, parishioners, husbands, wives, fathers and mothers, children, maisters, servants, widowes, olde men, olde women, yung folke’.23 Figure 7.1 Thomas Becon’s Elizabethan Bestsellers with Subsequent Editions Title and date of original publication Flour of godly praiers (1550)

Editions with years of print

The principles of christen religion (1553)

1560, 1569, 1580

The pomaunder of prayer (1558)

1561, 1563, 1565, 1566, 1567, 1570, 1578

The syckemans’ salve (1560)

1561, 1568, 1570, 1572, 1574, 1577, 1582(2), 1584, 1585, 1587, 1591, 1594, 1600, 1604, 1607, 1610, 1613, 1619, 1629, 1631

1551(2), 1561, 1570

The relikes of Rome (1560) 1563 A new postil (1566)

1567

While Becon addressed a wide range of topics in his Elizabethan tracts, his affinity for the subject of a ‘godly’ commonwealth was a theme that naturally resurfaced from his prior writings and wound its way through his Elizabethan works. Intriguingly, his expositions of the Gospels in New postil became a launching pad for him in commenting on the pressing social issues of his day. For instance, the formal exposition of the Gospel passage would often be no more than a couple of pages before he deviated from the biblical text and expressed his ire about the social ills in London. His ‘common wealth’ rhetoric overshadowed his purely religious rhetoric concerning the Elizabethan church, including the ‘great questions’ of the church. However, he did attack some aspects of the Elizabethan liturgy: candles, salt, holy water, holy bread, auricular confession, crosses, etc. In many ways he contradicted the 1559 Prayer Book. He also condemned some clergy whom he called ‘Gospellers’, those who he deemed pretenders of the true evangelical gospel.24 He 22 Thomas Becon, The worckes of Thomas Becon (London: John Day, 1564) STC 1710. 23 Becon, Worckes, Table of Contents. 24 Becon, New postil, sigs. Y7r, DD6r.

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called them ‘woulves’ and condemned them for still practising Catholic elements of the liturgy. But the amount of space he spent discussing these church issues is minimal. Peculiarly absent are any references to vestments in his Elizabethan tracts. This absence is particularly striking given the fact that Becon did not conceal his aversion for clerical garments in his Henrician and Edwardian tracts.25 As noted in Chapter 5, Becon in 1549 condemned the rich gentry who took advantage of the poor. In a couple of instances, he admonished Edward himself. However, in his New postil sermons Becon targeted magistrates, with the exception of the queen. Elizabeth herself was never explicitly the object of Becon’s ‘raylings’. In fact, the only time he ever mentioned her was in the Preface to The worckes of Thomas Becon in which he praised her for her many virtues.26 Becon’s tone within the New postil sermons was dark and pessimistic, similar in style to his Fortresse in which he gave his commentary on the 1549 uprisings. He was disgusted that ‘the common wealthe is come unto lamentable ruine. All thynges go to havocke generally, neyther is ther any hope of amendment’.27 As will be discussed in further detail later in this chapter, he was specifically distraught about the corruption of the rich and their mistreatment of the poor. He also observed conflict in English politics, both foreign and domestic: ‘Miserable is the face of this worlde. Ennemies are on every syde of us. Discord, debate, and strife encreaseth dayly more and more. Our men and our money decay dayly’.28 Becon took a moderate position in his political views, refusing, as he did in 1550, to align himself with a particular side. In regards to the issue of obedience and disobedience to magistrates, he repudiated both extreme positions on the issue. First, Becon condemned the extreme approach that was espoused in A myrroure for magistrates (1559), that rebellion in the form of armed resistance was necessary when the magistrate did not govern according to his subjects’ desires.29 Just as he did during the 1549 uprisings, Becon rejected all forms of violent resistance, condemning the ‘power of armes’ as ‘wrongfull violence’.30 Becon’s counsel for those who faced unjust magistrates, even to the point of death, was passive suffering: ‘Be content, suffer his tirany paciently, and commit thy cause to God’.31

25 26 27 28 29

See Chapters 4 and 6. Becon, Worckes, Preface, sig. C5v. Becon, New postil, sig. Z7r. Becon, New postil, sig. Z7r. William Baldwin, A myrroure for magistrates (London: Thomas Marsh, 1559) STC 1247, sigs. A8v, C3v; Lucas, ‘Let none such office take’, pp. 91–107. 30 Becon, New postil, sig. DD4r; sig. ZZZ5v. 31 Becon, New postil, sig. ZZZ2r.

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Becon also differed from the evangelical Robert Crowley, who advocated armed resistance.32 He still used the rebel political euphemisms of the day, calling the rich gentry ‘butchers’ as he did in 1550. He criticised them for their greediness in a 1567 collection of poems based on the prophecies of the Old Testament prophet Joel: ‘They must nought lacke, Fit for a noble man: Rather they will, Both polle and pill, And take all that they can’.33 He also urged the rich to ‘Leave tyranny, And shew mercy’.34 Crowley also defended the poor, condemning the rich for spending their money ‘At cardes and dice, and other vice, And excesse of raiment’ instead of on the poor.35 Crowley attacked the magistrates, the ‘ravening wolves’, for coercing their subjects to ‘obey theyr decrees, Although we see, Them for to bee, Against Gods verities’.36 He threatened the magistrates with God’s imminent judgment upon them: ‘For he that is Cruell, shall mis, Of mercy in that hower’.37 Throughout his tract was an undercurrent of divine vengeance, yet falling short of explicitly permitting human intervention. Though Becon rejected the theory of violent resistance expressed by Crowley and the poems in the Myrroure, Becon’s rhetoric was peculiarly parallel to that of the Myrroure in the use of common euphemisms of the vocabulary of political rebellion. Becon had incorporated these euphemisms before in his Fortresse of the Faythfull in 1550 (Figure 7.2). These euphemisms were always directed towards civil authority, the magistrates in Becon’s case, and were intended to stir sedition.38 Condemnatory terms such as ‘poll’, ‘pill’, ‘tirauntes’, and ‘cormorauntes’ expressed the subjects’ disapproval of magistracy and a desire to change social conditions, even if it meant disobeying the magistracy. When Becon used these rebel political euphemisms during the 1549 uprisings, he accused the government of mistreating the commons, especially the poor. His rebel political vocabulary demonstrated an empathy with the rebels by using their language. While Becon did juxtapose rebel political rhetoric with the Bible in Fortresse, his New postil sermons demonstrate Becon’s ability to use rebel political language in his sermons. This juxtaposition was highly unusual in the 1560s and demonstrates the fluidity in which Becon was able to express commonwealth issues of his day.39

32 Robert Crowley, The way to wealth wherein is plainly taught a most present remedy for sedicion (London: S. Mierdman, 1550) STC 6096, sig. B3r. See Chapter 5. 33 Robert Crowley, The opening of the wordes of the prophet Ioell (London: Henry Bynneman, 1567) STC 6089, sigs. C3r, D8r. 34 Crowley, Opening of the wordes, sig. H1r. 35 Crowley, Opening of the wordes, sig. E8r. 36 Crowley, Opening of the wordes, sig. F5r. 37 Crowley, Opening of the wordes, sig. H1v. 38 Wood, 1549 Rebellions, p. 101. 39 For Becon’s integration of the religious and political during the 1549 uprisings, see Chapter 5.

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Figure 7.2 Comparison of Becon’s rebel political language from 1550 and 1566 Euphemisms ‘poll and pill’

Fortresse of the faythfull (1550) 5

The new postil (1566) 7

‘beggery’

1

1

‘cormorauntes’

1

4

‘butcher’

2

0

‘tirauntes’, ‘tirany’

4

3

‘brainless’, ‘brainsick’

3

0

‘catarpillers’

1

2

While Becon repudiated the views of the Myrroure and those of Crowley, neither did Becon side with those who argued for strict obedience and compliance. John Aylmer, one of Becon’s acquaintances from the latter’s time in his Midland exile, gave no space for any form of disobedience, rebellion, or ‘rayling’ against authority. In a 1559 tract, written in response to Knox’s repudiation of female monarchy, Aylmer stressed the importance of loyalty and obedience to the queen. Aylmer placed the burden of responsibility upon the subjects in maintaining a ‘godly’ kingship or queenship: ‘If thou wylt have a good kyng or Quene: playe thou the good subiect’.40 His argument was to ‘Wynne them by obedience, then to exaspetate [sic] them by Rebellion…By disobedience to thy head, what gainest thou?’41 Aylmer contended that obedience was always the valid response in every situation. He condemned all forms of disobedience and protest, pointing out that God would certainly judge all forms of ‘disobedience’: ‘if God punish the[e] not here: yet shalte thou not go scott free in the world to come’.42 Further, Aylmer condemned all ‘vayne blastes or voyces’ against civil authority, which were ‘venyme or poyson’.43 Personifying England as a mother, Aylmer specifically called on all subjects to pledge their allegiance to Elizabeth by obeying her, appealing to her divine appointment by God: ‘You can not be my children, if you be not her subiectes’.44 Though Aylmer mentioned the magistrates’ duties to the subjects, he avoided any formal discussion of it in his tract. In his estimation, the dynamics of a successful commonwealth centred on the obedience of the subjects. If the subjects would 40 John Aylmer, An harborowe for faithfull and trewe subiectes (London: John Day, 1559) STC 1005, sig. Q7v. 41 Aylmer, Harborowe, sigs. Q7v–Q8r. 42 Aylmer, Harborowe, sig. Q8r. 43 Aylmer, Harborowe, sig. R2v. 44 Aylmer, Harborowe, sig. R2r.

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commit to complete obedience, the commonwealth would function properly, he argued. John Jewel, likewise, rejected any notion that it was possible for the evangelicals to use treasonous speech. In An apologie (1562), he rebutted the accusations of treason and sedition directed toward the evangelicals. In giving such a detailed defense, Jewel denied that any English evangelical verbally ‘diminished a mans rule’ or ‘disordered [the] common welth’.45 He explained, ‘It would trouble us very much to be thus odiously accused of high trayson’.46 He argued that ‘we have diligently admonished the people of their duety: how that they ought to obey their Princes and Magistrates, although they were wicked’.47 Jewel attempted to prove that wherever evangelical Christianity was present, commonwealths were blessed with ‘calm and quiet’.48 In many ways Becon’s doctrine of civil obedience was similar to that of Aylmer. Becon affirmed that ‘God hath ordayned the maiestrate to be our saviours in corporall and temporall affaires’.49 Like Aylmer, he argued that obedience to the magistrate was to be taken with the utmost gravity to the extent that the magistrate’s voice was the voice of God: ‘When thou hearest them, thou hearest God, except that in executynge their office, they commaunde any thynge that is contrary to the worde of God’.50 For Becon, of course, the only exception to obedience was when the magistrate contradicted the ‘worde of God’ or one’s ‘conscience’. What is particularly striking about this statement is that it was preached in 1566, around the time of the vestiarian controversy, in which he clearly opposed the use of vestments. In the event that the magistrate became ‘an impedimente to theyr subiectes in thys service of GOD’, then Becon indicated that ‘the subiectes oughte not to obeye hym, yea, they ought rather to suffer all extremities thenne to doo any thynge agaynste God, and theyr conscience’.51 This crucial statement by Becon formed the basis and justification for any ‘rayling’ against the magistrates. Contrary to Aylmer, Becon supported both verbal ‘rayling’ against unjust magistrates and ‘sedicious’ language in order to motivate social change. It must be pointed out that all the instances of his rebel language and ‘raylings’ during Elizabeth’s reign were in his New postil sermons of 1566. He defended preachers who ‘rayled’ and were subsequently accused of ‘sedicion’, with a possible refer45 John Jewel, An apologie, or aunswer in defence of the Church of England (London: Reginald Wolf, 1562) STC 14590, sig. B3r. See also sig. A8r. 46 Jewel, Apologie, sig. G2r. 47 Jewel, Apologie, sig. B3r. 48 Jewel, Apologie, sig. B3v. 49 Becon, New postil, sig. S6r. 50 Becon, New postil, sig. NN5r. 51 Becon, New postil, sig. ZZZ1v.

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ence to his own self.52 It is intriguing that Becon dismissed the charge of ‘sedicion’ quite lightly, for it was a grave matter during Elizabeth’s reign.53 Yet, as already has been noted, Becon never wrote good or ill of Elizabeth before 1564. It is possible that his clerical positions and influence in London legitimised his ‘raylings’. Nevertheless, Becon justified ‘rayling’ on biblical grounds: ‘For the gospell spareth no man, but reproveth the sinnes of all men generally and without exception’.54 Magistrates, he argued, could be ‘frely spoken against’, if they put themselves ‘above god and his worde’. In fact, Becon insisted it was incumbent on all preachers to ‘without feare rebuke those thinges, that are worthy to be reproved, be the[y] persones of hye or low degree’.55 Then suddenly in the midst of his biblical justification of ‘rayling’ against magistrates, he addressed the magistrates, challenging them with bold bravado. He declared his right to ‘rayle’, drawn from the Bible: Why then shold we preachers for thy cause (O thou maiestrate) cast our selves into daunger, and serve thy lustes contrarie to our office? It is not our worde. Neither are we in this office to serve thy tourne, as men hyred of thee to teach such things, as maye please thy fansye, the preachers may not do so, neither wyl they do so, nor yet ought they so to do.56

The only biblical model of ‘rayling’ that Becon submitted was Christ, who ‘did dispute, reason, contend with the adversaries’.57 William Turner, naturalist and Dean of Wells, submitted the most comprehensive defense of ‘rayling’ including several biblical models. In fact, Turner’s penchant for railing drew the ire of Gilbert Berkeley, Bishop of Bath and Wells, who complained in a letter dated 23 March 1563 to William Cecil that Turner was ‘rayling’. Apparently Turner had called bishops, ‘white-coats and tippet gentlemen’.58 Turner’s The hunting of the fox and the wolfe (1565) was a piece of religious polemic in dialogue form.59 The dialogue between a hunter and an anonymous dean was intended to criticise the Catholic church in general and Stephen Gardiner in particular. Turner, as the hunter, freely railed against Gardiner, calling him among other things a ‘foxe’. The dean, offended for Gardiner’s sake, rebuked the hunter for being disrespectful to the Bishop. The hunter then responded with biblical models of ‘rayling’. While the object of his 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59

Becon, New postil, sig. Y7v. TNA, SP 59/3f.250. Becon, New postil, sig. Y7v. See also Y8r. Becon, New postil, sigs. Y7v–Y8r. Becon, New postil, sig. Y8r. Becon, New postil, sig. Y8r. BL, Lansdowne, Vol. 8f.6. William Turner, The hunting of the fox and the wolfe (London, 1565) STC 24357.

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‘rayling’ was a spiritual leader, Turner pointed out that his models of ‘rayling’ also applied to civil authority. Christ, the Apostle Paul, and the Old Testament prophets ‘rebuked the Kinges and Princes’.60 If Christ called Herod a ‘foxe’ and the religious leaders ‘wolves’, reasoned the hunter, then he was justified in dubbing Gardiner a ‘foxe’. In reply to the dean’s retort that the hunter was not ‘appointed’ by God and had not received a ‘commission’ as Christ, the apostles, and the prophets did, he responded that he was commissioned by both Henry and Edward, and most importantly, by God.61 Who then could ‘rayle’ against magistrates? Both Becon and Turner indicated that a ‘rayler’ must be commissioned by God and should be a preacher. Was it appropriate then for a subject who was not a preacher to rail against civil authority? Was ‘rayling’ then reserved only for commissioned preachers? Both Becon and Turner were silent on this point. One thing though is clear: both forcefully denied that the ‘rayler’ had to be commissioned or permitted by princes or magistrates. This aspect of ‘rayling’ is strikingly similar to the point that Becon and other evangelicals made concerning their prophetic authority, that it was derived from God, not man.62 The dean then contended that if one railed against anyone including clergy, he should privately confront him, a veiled reference to Christ’s instructions in Matthew 18:15. He also exhorted the hunter that he should ‘tell him [Gardiner] his faulte charitably’.63 In reply the hunter distinguished between public and private sin: if Gardiner ‘offendeth openly [he] shoulde bee rebuked openly that other may be afrayde to offende therby’.64 The hunter submitted a second reason for not ‘rayling’ privately: self-preservation. He argued, using the biblical model of the prophet Elijah, that if he were to ‘rebuke’ Gardiner, he ‘woulde caste me in prison and kill me if I came within his reache?’65 What Turner suggested was that it was unwise and dangerous at times to go to the leaders and rebuke them privately. Public ‘rayling’, particularly through print, was a safer option, because it preserved the life of the ‘rayler’ and to ‘keepe my selfe from him untill his teeth be broken for feare of byting’.66 Turner’s self-preservation could easily be questioned as cowardice and hesitancy to engage in physical confrontation. However, Turner was mute on that point and made no attempt to deflect any possible criticism of this reason for ‘rayling’. While both Turner and Becon possessed no qualms about uttering ‘sedicious’ 60 61 62 63 64 65 66

Turner, Hunting, sig. B5r. Turner, Hunting, sigs. B5r–v. See Chapter 5. Turner, Hunting, sig. B5v. Turner, Hunting, sig. B5v. Turner, Hunting, sig. B5v. Turner, Hunting, sig. B5v.

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215

words, there were certain evangelicals who rejected any sort of verbal provocation, ‘rayling’, ‘sedicious’ speech, or rebuke of civil authority. If Becon advocated passive disobedience and ‘rayling’ against magistrates, then what prompted him to oppose the government in the 1560s? His concern again, as under Edward’s reign, was with what he perceived as neglect of the poor. While he laid blame on the rich gentry for oppressing the poor, he lamented that ‘almost all craftes men marchants, brokers, usurers and suche like dayly’ engaged in ‘thefte, deceipt, crafte subtiltie, extorcion’.67 Becon accused the rich gentry of price gouging in relation to housing, and he condemned them for setting ‘excessive prices’ for ‘marchandise and wares’ including corn and cattle.68 While there may have been price manipulation, there was also a steep inflation, the height of which was in 1559–1563.69 While Becon acknowledged that the gentry bore responsibility for the dire situation of the poor commons, he insisted that the magistrates deserved to bear the blame for the poverty. Using rebel political vocabulary and euphemisms, Becon castigated the magistrates: ‘The temporall ruler therefore doothe not hys office, whenne thorough hys pollynge and pyllyng, he dryveth hys subiectes unto slaverye and beggery. Shepe are to be shorne, and not to be all rent and torne’.70 Further, he alleged that the magistrates were responsible for their ‘unrighteous and unlaufull exactions’.71 Becon’s defense of the poor in his New postil sermons recalled his strong support for them in Fortresse. Once again, he appealed to his audience to pity the poor and generously give alms to them. One way in which he did this was to provide a model of charity and poor relief in his fictitious character, Epaphroditus, in his bestseller, The sycke mans salve (1561). Whereas his Edwardian writings had incorporated biblical models of charity through brief instruction, this time his last Philemon dialogue served the purpose of an extended model of charity and godly death. Epaphroditus, the name taken from the Apostle Paul’s companion who ‘nearly died for the work of Christ’, modeled charity both through regular giving to the poor and a generous bequest at his death.72 Epaphroditus modeled evangelical poor relief by observing a clear distinction between the worthy poor and the undeserving poor. Steve Hindle argues that evangelicals in printed works were reluctant to discriminate among the poor. But in practice, he notes, especially in the latter part of the sixteenth century, clergy

67 Becon, New postil, sig. KK1v. 68 Becon, New postil, sig. KK2r. 69 D. M. Palliser, The Age of Elizabeth: England Under the Later Tudors, 1547–1603 (New York, 1992), p. 174. 70 Becon, New postil, sig. ZZZ5r. 71 Becon, New postil, sig. ZZZ5r. 72 Philippians 2:30; Becon, Syckmans’ salve, sig. L1v.

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and donors became more discriminatory in their poor relief.73 In his will, Epaphroditus stated his intentions for the worthy poor. In his statement the specific recipients of his charity echoed the recipients of Christ’s generosity and miracles as recorded in the Gospels: I wil have bestowed, not upon idle lubbers, but upon the halt, the lame, the blind, the sick, and suche other as be comfortles. And in this nomber also of the pore, I comprehend prisoners, pore maides, yong men, which have not wherewith to set up their occupation, and my neadie neighbours.74

In his instructions on poor relief, Becon reiterated a spiritual promise to his readers, a promise that appeared in his Edwardian tracts: God will bring eternal reward, perhaps even salvation, to the giver. He exhorted the parishioner to ‘distribute his money and richesse liberally to the poore that can not get their owne lyvinge: And so shold they make of the Mammon of unrighteousnes, the Mammon of righteousnes’.75 Becon’s model of Epaphroditus and exhortations in his New postil sermons came in the midst of a context where, after 1562, homilies frequently contained exhortations to give alms.76 This push to relieve the poor was also encouraged by Elizabeth in her 1559 Injunctions. Article XI exhorted all parishes to give a regular fortieth portion of the revenues of the benefices to the poor. The queen in Article XX encouraged her subjects to visit the poor and sick. Furthermore, there were instructions given on setting up a ‘strong chest’ for the collection of monies for the poor. Clergymen were to encourage their parishioners to be charitable to the poor and to place money in the chest. Article XXV declared that to relieve the poor is a ‘true worshipping of God’. But all this talk of poor relief from Elizabeth was not enough for Becon. His ‘rayling’, therefore, was justified, because it was the magistrate who ‘dryveth hys subiectes unto slaverye and beggery’.77 If the magistrates neglected their fundamental duty to protect their subjects such as the poor, then he as a minister of God was obligated to ‘dispute, reason, contend with the adversaries, and by no meanes suffer them, or wincke at them, but stoutly and valeauntly defende the Lord Christ, his cause and worde, what soever adversitie foloweth’.78

73 Steve Hindle, On the Parish? The Micro-Politics of Poor Relief in Rural England, c.1550–1750 (Oxford, 2004), p. 100. 74 Becon, Syckmans’ salve, sig. L1v. See Luke 14:21 and John 5:3. 75 Becon, New postil, sig. KK1r; see also sig. KK2r. 76 Claire S. Schen, Charity and Lay Piety in Reformation London, 1500–1620 (Aldershot, 2002), p. 113. 77 Becon, New postil, sig. ZZZ5r. 78 Becon, New postil, sig. Y8r.

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Conclusion The political views of the evangelicals during the early period of Elizabeth’s reign demonstrate that there was no uniform agreement on what constituted obedience and disobedience. Neither was there concurrence on what words were ‘sedicious’ or ‘poysonous’. The tension of obedience and disobedience was not just an Edwardian problem, as has been the focus of recent scholarship on early modern English commonwealth studies. Early Elizabethan clerics also faced similar situations and disturbances that necessitated a theology and justification of civil obedience or political resistance. As both Becon and Turner demonstrate, the line between ‘rayling’ and treason was often a blurred one. As much as Becon stressed obedience to the rulers of the commonwealth, his rebel political rhetoric and his intentional use of choice euphemisms identified him with the ‘rebels’. Yet he viewed the purpose of his ‘raylings’ and ‘rebellion’ as a means of doing good for the sake of the commonwealth. Though he himself acknowledged that he was accused of ‘sedicion’, he argued that his ‘raylings’ served a salutary purpose that justified his ‘sedicious’ words. He viewed his words as the means of salvaging and preserving the commonwealth, a commonwealth that he believed had ‘come unto lamentable ruine’.

Conclusion

The writings of Thomas Becon from the late Henrician era to the early Elizabethan period demonstrate the gradual development of ‘common weale’ language, a development that was shaped by the complex political forces within each of the four periods in which Becon’s writings can be placed. Becon and other evangelicals presented their religious views of commonwealth ideology with particular emphases on Christian humanism, the liberty of conscience, social order, anti-popery, and anti-clericalism. There was no clearly defined or ‘typical’ position among the English evangelicals, each position being situation-dependent. The diversity of views among the evangelicals suggests the complexities and nuances of the issues within an understanding of ‘common weale’ ideology. Evangelical opinions on resistance, rebel political rhetoric, sedition, and ‘rayling’ reveal deep, internal divisions on issues of the obedience to civil magistrates and the proper roles of government and subjects. Becon’s ‘common weale’ priorities were in large part dictated by the political, religious, social, and geographical contexts in which he wrote. As the political climate of England vacillated, so did his priorites alter in order to address what he deemed were the pressing issues of the day. His Henrician tracts of 1541–1543 grew out of his observations of the children he tutored and the households he visited in Kent. As an evangelical humanist and educator, these observations, in turn, shaped the content of his ‘common weale’ rhetoric in its emphasis on household piety and virtue. His experiences within Tudor households even influenced his own production of children’s catechisms and prayers for children, yet another indicator of his commitment to Christian humanism. For Becon, the Word of God, the Bible, was to govern household piety, external behaviour, and domestic activities to the extent that even visual and material culture within a household should naturally orient one’s mind to the Bible. Prayers were to be recited in the household at crucial junctures of the day including meals, work, and bedtime. He regularly stated that one of the primary objectives of parents in a household was to nurture children to be ‘godly,’ virtuous subjects of the ‘common weale’.

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Not only did Becon’s Henrician tracts address household concerns of virtue, piety, and education, but his writings also lambasted Catholic theology, practices, and clergy, all of which were incompatible with his vision of a godly ‘common weale’. His theology began with a pungent Lutheran flavour, especially in his exposés of justification, sin, divine wrath, and faith. His regular appeals to patristic theology, Augustine in particular, mirrored that of Luther and his English protégé, Robert Barnes. He criticised Catholic doctrine for what he perceived was its emphasis of good works over faith. Becon’s religious polemic during this period also repudiated conservative, pious practices such as iconography, genuflection, the sacramental system, and all forms of ‘idolatry’. His clerical experiences in Ipswich near centres of iconography contributed to his sharp, antiCatholic polemic in the early 1540s. Becon denounced the conservative clergy, mostly for their debauched character. He connected their depravity with the overall moral temperature of the ‘common weale’, making a case for the complete reformation of the Church and ‘common weale’. In contrast to his focus on religious and theological matters in his Henrician tracts, Becon’s Edwardian ‘common weale’ writings were primarily concerned with issues of social disorder and upheaval. The uprisings of 1549 prompted Becon to condemn both the rebels and the Edwardian government. He took a particular interest in the abuse of the poor by rich gentry and magistrates. His rebel political language incorporated popular euphemisms of his day in condemning the ‘tirauntes’, ‘cormorauntes’, and ‘butchers’ who mistreated the poor commons. In his Edwardian tracts, Becon took on the role of an Old Testament prophet not only in condemning social injustice in the commonwealth, but also in prophesying ‘plages’ as a consequence of the sins of civil leaders and subjects. However, he did not merely complain or call down God’s judgment upon the English commonwealth, but he provided tangible, practical solutions for his readers. He argued that both parishes and individuals should demonstrate ‘liberalitie’ to and ‘hospitalitie’ for the poor. This ‘liberalitie’ was not intended only to meet and sustain one’s physical needs, but the poor, insisted Becon, were to ‘be fed both body and soule’. He urged his readers to take responsibility for poor relief through generous financial contributions, gifts of ‘drinke and cloth’, and fasting by withholding one’s intake of food in order to give that portion to the poor. He exhorted women to be ‘preparynge garmentes for the poore’ within their domestic space. He even suggested that they leave their homes and participate in face-to-face poor relief. Poor relief, averred Becon, was not only a duty of a subject of the commonwealth, but a necessary spiritual obligation that could even secure one’s eternal bliss. Becon’s Marian writings addressed the extent of reformation in England, as he evaluated the legacy of the Henrician and Edwardian reformations. His tracts, while filled with biting religious polemic, revealed strong support for the 1552

Conclusion

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Prayer Book and the Edwardian Reformation in general within the context of the Frankfurt controversies. Yet Becon’s message was one with some contradictions, hailing Henry on the one hand as the hero of reformation, but condemning the very aspects of liturgy that Henry promoted. In addition, his Marian tracts reveal a marked shift in his doctrinal positions on contrition, confession, absolution, and even transubstantiation, positions that he adamantly defended in his early writings. During Elizabeth’s early years, Becon resumed his rebel political language from his Edwardian tracts, incorporating his message of a ‘godly common wealth’. The seamlessness with which he returned to his rebel political language from 1549 is indeed significant and suggests that the undercurrent of evangelical ‘sedicion’ was still alive and well in the 1560s, despite the fact that Elizabeth was on the throne. His sharp rhetoric in the 1560s was reserved specifically for the magistrates of the commonwealth who had taken advantage of the poor commons. Becon’s moderate position condemned all acts of physical resistance by subjects, though suggesting the possibility of divine ‘resistance’ through human intervention. While some evangelicals argued for a strict position on obedience to magistrates and monarchs, Becon advocated disobedience only when the magistrate’s laws violated one’s ‘conscience’ and when they contradicted God’s laws. Becon also defended his position on ‘rayling’, citing the precedent established by Christ in verbally rebuking or even lashing civil authority. His position was not held by some evangelicals who contended that ‘rayling’ was not becoming for a Christian, for ‘speaking against’ God’s representatives on earth was tantamount to ‘speaking against’ God himself. The continuity of rebel political rhetoric and resistance language into the Elizabethan period is a striking feature of commonwealth rhetoric, and one that must be considered in order to accurately place evangelical political thought within the wider spectrum of political changes in Tudor England. The example of Thomas Becon and early modern English evangelicals is instructive in exploring a broader perspective of commonwealth language during the sixteenth century. This work has argued through an interdisciplinary method that an objective, thorough evaluation of Becon is requisite in order to fully appreciate his significance to commonwealth ideas in early modern England. Merely dismissing him as a ‘tasteless bigot’ or completely overlooking him as some scholars do is an unfortunate misrepresentation, and it is a catastrophic error in terms of early modern religious and political scholarship.1 To write off Becon is to obliviate a substantial body of literature that both illuminates and revises our own understanding concerning the evangelicals and the ‘common weale’. The popularity and apparent influence of Becon upon the commons 1 A.G. Dickens, The English Reformation (University Park, 1964), p. 236.

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warrants a closer scrutiny, one that will continue to yield fruitful insights in studies of the interconnection between religion and politics in Tudor England. This work has contended that Becon’s contribution to commonwealth politics is immense, and his thought provides a crucial piece of the puzzle, a piece that is often missing or underestimated in recent scholarship: the complicated relationship of the evangelicals with the commonwealth. The evangelicals’ rebel political language suggests more than the presence of social and economic issues in the commonwealth that is early modern England. It points to a deeper tension and division within the evangelical camp. Becon’s role as an outspoken critic of the English commonwealth, while serving as a cleric in several parishes in London and in Kent, suggests that the line between state religion and politics could be a tenuous one. His connection to the royal court and Canterbury did not prevent him from ‘rayling’ or using provocative language to the commonwealth’s magistrates. The irony was that the beatific vision of a united, cohesive ‘godly common weale’ of England for which Becon and other evangelicals desperately sought was in grave danger of not reaching fruition. That vision and full reformation of the commonwealth was ultimately challenged and undermined by a formidable obstacle – not the crown, magistrates, or gentry – but their own selves.

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Unpublished Theses

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Unpublished Theses Dean, Katherine, ‘The gendered language of anti-papist polemic in England, 1603–1702’ (PhD thesis, University of Cambridge, 2000). Santschi, David Andrew, ‘Obedience and Resistance in England, 1536–1558’ (PhD thesis, University of Wisconsin, 2008).

Index

Abraham (in the Old Testament) 131, 137 Adam (in the Old Testament) 46 f., 76, 118, 140 Aldington 34 Aleandro, Girolamo 28 Almasy, Rudolph 70 f., 75, 168 Alsop en la Dale, Derbyshire 77 Anne of Cleves 127, 243 antichrist 27, 57, 78, 99, 106–108, 136, 142, 155, 174–176, 189 anti-papal rhetoric 141 f., 155 Antwerp 33, 53 f., 57, 62, 78 Appulby, Simon 38 Argentine, Richard 32 f. Armstrong, Clement 72, 89, 121 Ars moriendi literature 207 Arthur, Thomas 18, 29, 33, 105, 133, 137, 155 Askew, Anne 82, 108, 128, 156 Atherstone, Warwickshire 82 f. Augustine 51 f., 97, 109, 190, 220 auricular confession 177, 180–183, 192, 208 Aylmer, John 70, 83 f., 211 f. Bakewell, Derbyshire 77 Bale, John 32 f., 54, 60, 70 f., 73, 78, 96 f., 105–109, 128, 130, 136, 149–151, 156, 163, 172–174, 177 Balserak, Jon 7, 148 baptism 188–190, 208 Barnes, Robert 12, 29 f., 34, 52 f., 150, 220 Bartholomew, John 170 Barton, Elizabeth, ‘Nun of Kent’ 34

Baxterley Hall, Atherstone, Warwickshire 82–83 Becon, Thomas 7, 11–15, 17–63, 65–100, 102–111, 113–123, 125–136, 139, 141– 146, 149–151, 154–165, 167–191, 193– 195, 197, 199–201, 203–217, 219–222, 241, 244 – Canterbury Cathedral 15, 206 – Castell of comforte 85, 99, 107, 127 f., 181, 242 – Christ Church Newgate 15, 206 – Christmas bankette 12, 20, 31, 36, 38– 46, 48, 51 f., 54, 57, 129, 174, 178, 241 – Comfortable epistle 83, 92, 146, 170 f., 176, 186, 191, 193 f., 243 – Davids harpe 36, 39, 50, 68 f., 107 f., 129, 174, 241 – Derbyshire 76–78, 81 f., 87, 173 – Flour of godly praiers 43, 45, 92 f., 98– 100, 105, 107, 109 f., 113, 118, 120 f., 127–129, 149 f., 154, 156, 174 f., 177, 191, 208, 243 – Fortresse of the faythfull 15, 22, 94, 97, 109, 113–117, 119 f., 128, 131, 151, 154, 159, 161–165, 210 f., 243 – Frankfurt 15, 23, 85, 167 f., 171–173, 176, 179, 201, 221 – Fruitful treatise of fasting 119, 121, 130, 243 – Governaunce of vertue 84, 91 f., 127, 129, 241 – Humble supplicacion 134–136, 141– 143, 170 f., 176 f., 179, 181, 185–189, 194 f., 197, 243

240 – Iewel of ioye 30–32, 35, 65, 70–81, 83– 88, 91, 99, 103, 106 f., 110, 113–116, 118, 120, 151, 155, 180, 195, 243 – Invectyve 37, 56 f., 69, 96, 242 – marriage to Elizabeth Godfrey 15, 93 – Newes out of heaven 39, 47–51, 55, 57 f., 174, 241 – Newe yeares gyfte 26, 37, 39, 41, 45, 50, 54, 55, 69, 70, 178, 180, 225, 242 – New pollecye of warre 26, 31, 35, 38, 42, 55–58, 61 f., 130, 174, 177 f., 241 – New postil 33, 182 f., 203, 206–213, 215 f., 244 – Peak District 14, 76 f. – Physyke of the soule 85, 242 – Pleasaunte newe nosegay 25, 31, 35–37, 39, 51, 55, 57–59, 241 – Potacion 241 – Principles of Christian religion 41, 130, 156, 207, 243 – Reliques of Rome 130 – Shelde of salvation 85, 242 – Solace of the soule 85, 242 – St Dionis Backchurch 15, 206 – St Eanswythe 14, 34 – St Lawrence 14, 32–34 – Strasbourg 13, 15, 134, 143, 170–172, 195 – St Stephen Walbrook 15, 89, 92, 117, 120, 146, 170 – Sycke mans salve 215, 243 Berkeley, Gilbert, bishop of Bath and Wells 213 Berkley, Alice 37 Berthelet, Thomas 38, 55, 60, 81, 179 Beza, Theodore 72 Bible 19, 25–27, 30, 41–44, 46, 55–57, 62, 81, 106, 110, 127, 129, 137, 140, 148, 156, 185 f., 195, 200, 210, 213, 219 – Decalogue 44 f., 179, 188 f., 208 – Gospels 182, 195, 208, 216, 244 – Mosaic Law 22, 48, 90, 145, 148 – New Testament 20, 31, 40 f., 44, 60, 69, 78, 86, 95 – Old Testament 20 f., 23, 27, 41, 46 f., 58–62, 90, 95, 104, 107, 143, 145, 148–

Index

151, 153–158, 160, 164 f., 174, 210, 214, 220 – Psalms 71 – Revelation 44, 57, 78, 106 f., 148, 177 Bibliander, Theodorus 62 Bilney, Thomas 29–31, 33, 150 Boleyn, Anne 68 Bomelius, Henricus 54, 78 Bonner, Edmund, bishop of London 12, 34, 52, 94, 136, 188–192, 194, 197–199 Botelho, Lynn A. 17, 111 f. Bradford, John 29, 136, 140 f., 170 Bradgate, Leicestershire 83, 91 Bremen 80 Brenzett, Kent 7, 14, 34, 194 Brenz, Johann 61 Brigden, Susan 17, 33 f., 37, 67–69, 90, 93, 111 f., 115 f., 119 f., 146, 153, 168, 170 f. Brinklow, Henry 17, 38, 106, 112, 116, 119, 156 Brooke, George, Baron Cobham 14, 36 f., 241 Brooks, James 130 Bucer, Martin 83, 103, 195 Buckland, Herfordshire 15, 206 Bullinger, Heinrich 33, 38, 83, 187, 242 Burdet, Robert 130 Busby, Humphrey 170 Bush, M. L. 114 f., 154 Caius, John 29, 152 f. Calvin, John 75, 103, 148, 158, 169, 172, 186–188 Cambridge 14, 16 f., 19, 22, 27–33, 37, 47, 56, 66, 68 f., 71, 76 f., 83, 89, 92, 94, 111 f., 125 f., 135, 139, 157 f., 165, 168 f., 186, 197, 204–207 – St Edward’s Church 30 Canterbury, Kent 36, 51, 153, 206 f., 222, 243 f. catechisms 41, 188, 207 f., 219 Cecil, William 111, 115, 153, 204, 206, 213 Champneys, John 98, 156 Chavura, Stephen 89, 92 Chichester, West Sussex 28, 206

241

Index

children 7, 15, 18, 35, 41 f., 44, 46, 48, 55, 63, 80, 111, 115, 120, 134, 136, 156, 184, 188–190, 199, 207 f., 211, 219 Churchyard, Thomas 92, 119, 154 Cicero 96 Clark, Peter 35 f. commonwealth 11–13, 16 f., 20 f., 23–25, 41, 56 f., 63, 66, 89 f., 93–99, 111, 113, 116 f., 120 f., 125, 144 f., 147, 149, 154, 156–165, 203–205, 208, 210–212, 217, 219–222 – ‘common weale’ 11 f., 16, 20, 22, 25 f., 41–43, 45–47, 53 f., 57–59, 62, 66, 94–96, 98, 125, 127 f., 132, 144 f., 205, 219–221 – definition 39 – ‘publique weale’ 21, 42, 45, 55 f., 58, 63, 90, 94–96, 98 f., 117 Coughton, Warwickshire 82 Coulton, G. G. 56 Coventry, Warwickshire 82 Coverdale, Miles 30, 38, 60, 78, 96, 106 f. Cox, Richard 171 Cranmer, Thomas, archbishop of Canterbury 13, 28, 35, 67, 69, 71, 90, 95, 103, 109–111, 163, 170, 181, 185, 187, 195, 243 Cressy, David 16, 76, 147, 158, 205 Croke, Richard 28 Crome 29 f., 169 Cromwell, Thomas 33, 36, 60, 68 Crowley, Robert 95, 119, 130, 146, 158– 163, 210 f. Cubbington, Warwickshire 79, 173 Cyprian 190 David (in the Old Testament) 14, 29 f., 70, 144, 150, 168, 174, 187 Dawson, Jane E. A. 169, 176, 204 Day, George 28, 69 Day, John 25, 32, 41, 43, 54, 84 f., 92, 98 f., 107, 115, 117, 119, 121, 128–130, 151, 159, 170, 174, 181, 207 f., 211, 242–244 Devonshire 94, 164–165 Dickens, A. G. 172, 204, 221 Dolan, Frances 18, 105, 108 f., 142, 155 Dudley, John, duke of Northumberland 90, 123, 146–148, 158

Duffy, Eamon

168 f., 173

education 14, 21, 25 f., 28, 32, 44, 47, 55 f., 69 f., 80, 83, 120, 188, 220 Edward VI 15, 45, 89, 91 f., 94, 114, 141, 154, 163, 174 Elijah (in the Old Testament) 155, 162, 164, 214 Elizabeth I 16, 24, 205 Erasmus, Desiderius 28 f., 32, 130 Eucharist 103, 136, 180, 184–187, 198 exile 13–15, 19, 21–23, 37 f., 65 f., 70–73, 75 f., 78–81, 83–87, 90 f., 97, 126, 133, 165, 167–173, 175 f., 179, 183 f., 190, 193, 195, 201, 204, 211 – defensiveness 65 – justification of 205, 213, 217 – silence 14, 21, 65 f., 70, 74 f., 84, 86–88, 91, 129, 135, 137, 159, 183, 187 fasting 39, 121 f., 129 f., 192, 220 fathers 44, 59, 110, 115, 117, 143, 181, 183, 190, 200, 208 Fisher, John, bishop of Rochester 28, 35 Fitzroy, Mary 127 f., 242 Flather, Amanda 19, 126 f., 133, 141 Foxe, John 32 f., 60, 107, 170, 213 f. Frith, John 38, 57, 78, 130, 150 Gardiner, Germaine 71–72 Gardiner, Stephen, bishop of Winchester 67, 69, 71 f., 107, 213 f. Garrett, Thomas 34, 37, 150, 168, 170 f. Geuffroy, Antoine 62 Gilby, Anthony 96, 107, 163 Gildas 150 Glover, John 70, 82 Glover, Mary 19, 70, 82, 126 Glover, Robert 70, 82–84 Glover, William 70 Godfrey, Elizabeth 15, 93 godliness 21, 27, 31 f., 38, 42, 45, 47, 53–56, 99, 128–130, 133, 138, 143 Goodman, Christopher 136, 143 f., 158 Gosfield, Essex 33

242

Index

Gough, John 12, 25–27, 31, 36 f., 41, 46–48, 50 f., 56, 68 f., 74, 96, 129 f., 241 f. Greek 12, 28, 32, 35, 69, 80, 96, 106, 186 Grey, Anne 127, 241 Grey, Henry, third marquess of Dorset 83, 91 Grey, Lady Jane 83, 91, 171 Grocers’ Company 93 Gryse, Anthony 37, 242 Haigh, Christopher 56 f. Harkrider, Melissa Franklin 19, 126–128, 169, 195 Henry VIII 14, 27, 34 f., 38, 45, 55, 58, 66 f., 71, 73, 78, 80 f., 83, 91–93, 109, 144, 147, 174, 179 – Six Articles 14, 34, 82, 179 – Ten Articles 177–180 – The Bishops’ Book 179 Hilsey, John, bishop of Rochester 35 Hooper, John 28, 75, 92, 96–98, 104, 109, 111, 115 f., 145, 150, 156 Hoskins, W. G. 111 f. Huggarde, Miles 137, 139, 142 Huggons, Elizabeth 158 humanism 12, 17, 20, 28, 32, 43 f., 80, 90, 95 f., 145, 147, 158, 185, 190, 219 iconoclasm 35, 67, 100, 146, 153, 193 idolatry 31, 33, 65, 99–101, 143, 148, 155, 194, 198, 220 Ipswich, Suffolk 14, 32–34, 91, 100, 194, 220 Jansen, Sharon 147, 157 Jehoshaphat (in the Old Testament) 60 Jehu (in the Old Testament) 60, 156 f. Jerome, William 34, 150, 190 Jewel, John 212 Job (in the Old Testament) 32, 131 Josiah (in the Old Testament) 60, 156 f., 174 Joye, George 29 f., 33, 38, 70, 78, 95 f., 149 Kele, Richard 93 Kempis, Thomas à

38, 53

Kent 7, 14, 34–36, 40, 58, 65, 67, 69, 77, 183, 219, 222 Kesselring, K. J. 147, 158, 161 Kett’s Rebellion 94, 165 Kinder, Philip 76 Knox, John 70 f., 75, 143 f., 168, 172, 179, 211 Latimer, Hugh 14, 25, 29–32, 70, 79, 82 f., 95 f., 98, 111, 117, 128, 154, 163, 170 Latin 32, 80 f., 84 f., 96, 172, 187, 189, 198 Leicestershire 83 Lever, Thomas 75, 113, 115, 151, 154 Loades, David 30, 133, 135, 137, 168, 171, 173, 194 Lollardy 35, 77 London – Bartholomew Hospital 116 – Christ’s Hospital 120, 122 – Fleet Prison 30 – River Thames 92 – River Walbrook 92 – Stocks Market 92 – Tower 15, 158, 170 – Walbrook 15, 92, 113, 146, 170, 206 London churches 132 – All Hallows Honey Lane 93 – All Hallows Staining 122, 132 – Saint Saviour Southwark 122, 132 – St Bartholomew by the Exchange 122, 132 – St Margaret Lothbury 67, 122, 132 – St Mary Aldermary 67 – St Mary Woolchurch 92 London 7, 9, 11 f., 15, 17 f., 25–27, 30–38, 41, 43, 47 f., 50–53, 55–57, 60, 62, 67–70, 72, 74, 81 f., 84 f., 89–94, 96, 98 f., 103, 106–109, 111–117, 119–122, 126, 128– 131, 133, 136–138, 140, 143, 145 f., 150– 154, 156, 159, 163, 168, 170–172, 174, 179–182, 188–192, 194 f., 203 f., 206– 213, 216, 222, 241–244 London, John 71–72 Lord’s Supper, see Eucharist Lucas, Scott 16, 169, 205, 209

Index

Luther, Martin 29 f., 47, 49 f., 52, 61, 72, 186 f., 220, 244 Maas, Korey 29 f., 52 MacCulloch, Diarmaid 28, 32 f., 67, 94, 103 f., 163, 165, 170, 195 Malling, Kent 35–37 Mancetter, Warwickshire 82 Marburg 15 Mardeley, John 108, 116, 156 Marotti, Arthur 18, 105–108, 133, 137, 142, 155 marriage 37, 82 f., 128, 133–135, 138, 188, 199 Marshall, Peter 26 f., 38, 47, 71, 82, 89, 169, 181, 197, 207 Marsh, Christopher 56 Marsh, John 75 Mary I 82 f., 133, 137, 168 f., 173 Mass 16, 79, 81, 100 f., 103 f., 108, 127, 136, 138, 142, 156, 173, 180, 184 f., 187–189, 192–195, 197 Matlock, Derbyshire 77 Maugham, Thomas 171 Mayler, John 12, 25 f., 31, 36 f., 41, 46–48, 50 f., 56, 68 f., 74, 93, 96, 99, 129 f., 174, 179, 241 f. McIntosh, Marjorie 17, 111 f., 118 f. Mereworth, Kent 35 f. monarchy 95, 144, 172, 211 – obedience to 42, 44, 58 f., 62, 70, 90, 96– 98, 164, 203, 211 f., 217, 219, 221 – prayers for 45, 103, 219 – resistance to 143 – submission to 22, 45, 59, 97, 126, 174 Moses (in the Old Testament) 59 f., 72, 105, 109 Mousehold Heath, Norfolk 94 Nettlestead, Norfolk 32, 37 Neville, Thomas 14, 35–37, 241 Norfolk 14 f., 26, 34, 69 f., 83, 94, 163–165 Old, John 17, 27, 30, 37, 46, 52, 56, 60, 66, 68, 70, 78–84, 86 f., 91, 99, 111 f., 115,

243 118, 134, 136 f., 142, 156, 165, 168 f., 172–174, 177, 180, 189, 199, 207 f. Oldwanton, Oliver 138 f., 141 Osherow, Michele 126 f., 129 f. Ossory, Ireland 173 Ottoman Empire 61 f. – Turks 61 f. Oxford 9, 16, 18, 32 f., 39, 67, 76, 80, 84 f., 90, 94, 104, 111, 126, 146–148, 158, 168 f., 171, 181, 188, 194, 205–207, 216 – All Hallows 80 – Christ Church 15, 171, 206 Oxfordshire 80 Paget, William 115 Parish, Helen 13 f., 17 f., 22, 29, 33 f., 57, 70, 75 f., 92 f., 110 f., 118–122, 125, 128, 133–135, 146, 170, 188, 194, 206 f., 216, 220, 222 Parker, Matthew 29, 206, 244 Parr, Katherine 27, 82, 109 Pates, Richard 189 patristic period 49 Paul’s Cross, London 14 f., 29, 37, 67, 170, 206 Paynell, Thomas 93 penance 180–182 Pendleton, Henry 170 Peters, Christine 19, 22, 125–127, 130 f., 133, 139–141 Pettegree, Andrew 7, 38, 70 f., 75 Philemon (in the New Testament) 39–46, 58, 66, 70, 75 f., 78, 91, 215, 241–243 piety 19 f., 22, 25, 31 f., 39, 54, 82, 92, 125 f., 128–133, 139–141, 169, 178, 185, 220 – Catholic piety 31, 38, 54, 138, 168, 193 – evangelical piety 20, 54 – household piety 20, 25, 41–43, 45, 53 f., 56, 219 – lay piety 18–20, 26, 39, 53 f., 112, 126, 133, 216 Pollard, Leonard 189 Ponet, John 92, 121, 134, 143 f., 158, 168, 170–172 Pope, Thomas 18, 59, 97, 105 f., 108 f., 146, 155 f.

244

Index

Poullain, Valérand 172 poverty 14, 17, 24, 58, 89, 111–113, 115– 120, 203, 215 – causes of poverty 17, 112 – effects of poverty 113–115 – poor relief 12, 14, 17–19, 21, 41, 43, 63, 89 f., 95, 111 f., 118–122, 126, 131–133, 215 f., 220 – poverty in London 17, 112, 115 f. – theology of poverty 118 prayer 23, 35, 43, 53, 56, 92, 94, 98, 100, 103, 105, 109, 120 f., 127, 129 f., 141, 151–153, 167 f., 171–173, 178 f., 188–190, 192, 195, 198, 201, 208, 219, 221, 243 – prayers for the commons 45 – prayers for the king 45 – prayers for women 22, 128, 144 prayerbook 41, 43, 126 – Book of Common Prayer 23, 103 f., 104, 167–168, 171–173, 188–190, 195, 201, 208 prophets – Baal rhetoric 106, 108–109, 142–143, 155–156, 164 – court prophets 23, 145, 150, 157 – plagues 23, 145, 152–154 – prophecy 12, 123, 147–149, 157, 160, 165, 169 – sweating sickness 152 f. prophets 23, 27, 44, 59, 63, 71, 87, 107, 114, 145–152, 155–157, 164, 214 Punt, William 106 f. Pynson, Richard 53 Qur’an

61

Ranson, Angela 169, 172, 184 Rappaport, Steve 17, 19, 111–113, 126, 133 Reeves, Ryan 16, 89 f., 96 f., 167 Rex, Richard 33, 77 f., 179 Rhegius, Urbanus 85, 242 rhetorical devices 169, 190, 199–201 – amplification 200 – enumerations 191, 194, 199 – point-to-point contrasts 170, 200 Richard II 150

Rich, Richard 22, 35, 39, 113–116, 118, 147, 159, 161, 163 f., 204, 209 f., 215, 220, 222 Ridley, Lancelot 38, 51–52 f., 55 Ridley, Nicholas 12 f., 51, 104, 170 Robin Hood 25 Robynson, George 60 Rochester, Kent 29, 35, 52, 206 Roydon, Thomas 36 f., 242 Ryrie, Alec 27, 41, 47, 52, 66–71, 73, 78–80, 83 f., 89, 104, 121 f., 147 f. Samuel, William 150 f., 154 Schen, Claire 17–19, 112, 118, 120, 126 f., 131–133, 216 schools 80 f. Scott, Richard 37, 70, 85, 112, 169, 211, 242 sedition 14, 16, 22, 69, 115, 130, 145, 147, 157, 159, 161–164, 203, 205, 210, 212, 219 – A myrroure for magistrates 203, 209 – railing 213 – rebel rhetoric 16, 160, 204 f. – violent resistance 203, 209 f. Seres, William 25, 30, 70, 91, 106, 138, 151, 159, 180, 195, 242 Seymour, Anne, duchess of Somerset 91– 92 f., 127–128 f., 243 Seymour, Edward, duke of Somerset 13, 15, 21, 32, 83, 89–92 f., 94–96, 103, 111, 115, 128 f., 146–147 Seymour, Jane 32, 91–92 f., 127, 241 Shaphan (in the Old Testament) 60 Shepherd of Hermas 121 Sherry, Richard 191, 197, 199 f. Shrewsbury, Shropshire 152 Shropshire 79 Singleton, Robert 67–69 Skinner, Quentin 158 Slack, Paul 17, 112 Solomon (in the Old Testament) 58, 137, 174 Stafford, George 14, 29–32 Staffordshire 68, 79–81, 88 Sturry, Kent 15, 206 Suffolk 14, 32–34, 69, 83, 94 Sutel, Johann 61

245

Index

Taverner, Richard 12, 38, 57 f. Tertullian 68 theology 7, 11, 16, 21, 23, 25 f., 29–31, 47– 50, 54, 88–90, 96 f., 145, 147, 159, 167 f., 179 f., 183, 185, 197, 217, 220 – conversion 20 f., 25–27, 29–31, 33, 40 f., 44–47, 50–54, 62, 79, 105, 157, 172, 185 – death of Christ 49–50 – faith 27, 31, 49–52, 55, 61, 68, 71, 78, 82 f., 87, 119, 128 f., 140, 142, 155, 168, 170, 182, 185–187, 208, 220 – imputation 49 – justification 21, 35, 47, 49–53, 55, 71 f., 74 f., 78, 119, 140, 158, 183, 212, 220 – original sin 47 f., 172 – reconciliation 49 f., 52, 171, 203 – repentance 23, 26, 50–52, 58, 62, 117, 128, 146, 148–150, 153–155, 157, 180, 208 – theology of the cross 47, 50 – wrath of God 48 Thetford, Norfolk 14, 26, 83 f., 91 Thornton, Tim 147 f. Throckmorton, George 82 Tivetshall St Mary, Norfolk 83 Tracy, Richard 51 f., 146 transubstantiation 178–180, 183–187, 193, 200, 221 Tunstall, Cuthbert, bishop of London 28 Turner, William 213 f., 217 Twyne, John 69 Tyndale, William 12, 31, 33, 57, 61 f., 78, 106, 150 University of Cambridge 18, 28–30, 32, 105 – Pembroke College 29, 31 f. – Queens’ College 29 f., 83 – St John’s College 14, 28 f., 32 – Trinity Hall 29 Vaux, Katherine 82 Ventris, William 170 Véron, Jean 170 vestments 23, 104, 119, 167, 178 f., 184, 193–195, 201, 209, 212 – vestiarian controversy 212

virtues 57, 209 vocation 41 Walker, Garthine 89, 135 Walsham, Alexandra 44, 147, 149, 152 f., 157, 207 Warfelie, Mistress 120 Warwickshire 79, 81–84, 86 f. Watson, Thomas 30, 168, 190 Wentworth, Jane, Maid of Ipswich 33 Wentworth, Margery 91 Wentworth, Richard 33 Wentworth, Thomas 14, 32–34, 91 Westminster 84, 115 Whetenhall, George 37, 241 Whitford, Richard 39, 41, 53–55 Whittingham, William 172, 179 Willis, Jonathan 44 Winchester, Hampshire 206 Wirksworth, Derbyshire 77 Wisdom, Robert 41, 67–70, 79 f., 86 f., 98 Withington, Phil 16, 89, 94 f., 205 Wizeman, William 133, 137, 168, 173, 185, 197 Wolsey, Thomas, archbishop of York 29, 33, 37 women 18 f., 22, 60, 106, 109, 125–144, 169, 195, 207 f., 220 – female metaphors 141 – mistreatment of 135–137, 150, 209 – mothers 117, 120, 127 f., 208 – sin 27, 44, 47–51, 54, 57 f., 61 f., 108, 114, 119, 137, 140–142, 150, 154, 181, 183, 214, 220 – weakness of 129, 137 women in the Bible 22, 129, 131, 142, 144 – Deborah 129 f., 143 – Dorcas 120, 129, 131 – Esther 129, 143 – Jael 138, 143 f. – Judith 129 f., 138, 142–144, 168 – Lydia 129, 131 – Mary 15, 28, 70, 82, 90, 120, 133 f., 136, 138, 143 f., 168–170, 173, 175–177, 179, 189, 191, 197, 206 – Susanna 129

246 women spirituality 19–20, 126, 128–132, 138–139 – biblical models 86, 125, 129, 130, 131, 142, 144, 150, 169, 213, 215 – charity 17–19, 21, 46, 68, 88 f., 111 f., 118–120, 126, 131–133, 153, 215 f. – domestic devotion 19–20, 22, 43, 126– 128, 130–133, 220 – women’s identity 127, 132–144 Wood, Andy 16, 77, 83, 157–161, 163–165, 205, 210

Index

Wotton, Nicholas 111, 153 Wright, Jonathan 71–73, 75, 169 Wyatt, Thomas 35–37, 83, 241 f. Yates, Margaret 17, 112, 116 York, John 29, 70, 78, 134, 146, 153, 168 f., 175, 179, 185, 215 Zwingli, Ulrich

186 f.

Appendix

Table 1: Titles of Thomas Becon Genre

Numbers of Edition

Dedication

The governaunce of vertue (1538/ 44?)

Didactic treatise

11

Unknown; Southwark: 1550, Lady James Jane Seymour Nicholson

1724.5

Newes out of heaven (1541)

Didactic treatise

2

George Pierpont

London: J. Mayler for J. Gough

1739

A Christmas Philemon bankette (1542) dialogue

3

Sir Thomas Neville

London: J. Mayler for J. Gough

1713

A potacion (1542)

2

Sir Thomas Neville

London: J. Mayler for J. Gough

1749

A newe pathway Didactic unto praier treatise (1542)

2

Lady Anne Grey

London: J. Mayler for J. Gough

1734

A pleasaunte newe nosegay (1542)

Philemon dialogue

2

George Whetenhall, Esq.

London: J. Mayler for J. Gough

1742

The new pollecye of warre (1542)

Didactic treatise

1

Sir Thomas Wyatt

London: J. Mayler for J. Gough

1735

Davids harpe (1542)

Exposition of Psalm 116:10–17

1

Sir George Brooke, Lord Cobham

London: J. Mayler for J. Gough

1717

Short Title (Year)

Printing Place: Printer

Bibliography Number (ESTC, 2nd ed.)

Henrician Titles

Philemon dialogue

248

Appendix

Table 1: Titles of Thomas BeconBecon, Thomas (Continued) 2

Anthony Gryse

London: J. Mayler for J. Gough

4045.5

The true defence Didactic of peace (1542) treatise

2

Sir Thomas Wyatt

London: J. Mayler for J. Gough

1775

A newe yeares gyfte (1543)

Philemon dialogue

1

Thomas Roydon, Esq.

London: J. Mayler for J. Gough

1738

An invectyve (1543)

Didactic treatise

2

Richard Scott

London: J. Mayler for J. Gough

1730.5

Catechisme (1543?)

Catechism

1

Unknown

none

A newe dialog (1547?)

Poetic dialogue

1

London: John Day

1733.5

1

Unknown

none

The solace of the Translation soule (1548) of unidentified author

1

London: William Hill

1774

Shelde of Translation salvation (1548) of Urbanus Rhegius’ work

1

London: R. Wyer

20851.5

Commendation Translation of death (1548?) of unidentified author

1

Unknown

none

The physyke of Didactic the soule (1549) treatise

1

London: T. 1741 Raynold and W. Hill

The castell of Didactic comforte (1549) treatise

1

The golden boke of christen matrimonye (1542)

Translation of Heinrich Bullinger’s work

Homely agaynst Sermon whordome (1547?) Edwardian Titles

Mary Fitzroy, duchess of Richmond

London: John Day and William Seres

1712

249

Appendix

Table 1: Titles of Thomas BeconBecon, Thomas (Continued) The flour of godly praiers (1550)

Prayer book

5

Anne Seymour, duchess of Somerset

London: John Day

1719.5

The fortresse of the faythfull (1550)

Philemon dialogue

2

Sir John Robsart

London: John Day

1721

The iewel of ioye Philemon (1550) dialogue

1

London: John Day

1733

Christen prayers & godly meditacions (1550)

Translation from Italian of unidentified author

1

London: John Wyer

2985.3

A fruitful treatise of fasting (1551)

Didactic treatise

1

London: John Day

1722

4

London: John Day

1752.5

Epistle

1

Strasburgh

1716

An humble Prayer supplicacion unto God (1554)

1

Strasburgh

1730

An answer to a certain godly manes lettres (1557)

1

Strasburgh

658

The principles of Catechism Christian religion (1553)

Thomas Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury

Marian Titles A comfortable epistle (1554)

Epistle

Elizabethan Titles The relikes of Rome (1560)

History

2

Lord Francis, earl of Bedford

London: John Day

1754

The sycke mans salve (1560)

Philemon dialogue

22

Basil Felding, Esq.

London: John Day

1756.5

8

Lady Anne of Cleves

London: John Day

1744

The pomaunder Prayer book of prayer (1558)

250

Appendix

Table 1: Titles of Thomas BeconBecon, Thomas (Continued) London: John Day

1710

The worckes of Thomas Becon (1564)

Collection of 1 all of Becon’s titles

Matthew Parker, archbishop of Canterbury, and all bishops of England, identified by name

A new postil (1566)

Collection of 2 sermons on the Gospels

“To his London: faithfull felow Thomas Labourers in Marshe the Lordes harvest”

1736

A very comfortable, and necessary sermon (1570)

Translation of a sermon by Martin Luther

“To all the inhabitauntes of England”

16997.5

1

London: John Day