and of the appointment of prelates by any but the king (1553); the annulling of the papal authority in England in 1534; and the recognition of Henry as "the only supreme head in earth of the Church of England" in 1535.

Thomas Cranmer now appeared on the historic stage, to take up the part which Wolsey had ceased to play. Three years sufficed to raise this man from a tutorship at Cambridge to the see of Canterbury. A lucky sentence, spoken at a supper-table in Essex, within hearing of Secretary Gardiner and Almoner Fox, won for him the notice of the king. The universities of Europe were, at his suggestion, appealed to on the point, "Whether or no a man may marry his brother's wife?" The result was agreeable to the wishes of the king, and Cranmer began to rise with rapid steps. When Warham died, he leaped at one bound to the primate's chair, to the sacred duties of which he was consecrated in March 1533. Anne Boleyn, whom Henry married that very year, looked kindly on one to whom she partly owed her crown. In return, the prelate, who owed his mitre chiefly to her, pronounced her to be the lawful wife of his royal patron, and with public pomp placed the crown on her head. Divorced Catherine, lying sick and sad at Ampthill near Dunstable, could only raise a feeble, ineffective protest. By-and-by Queen Anne bore a daughter, who was christened Elizabeth.

A poor nun of Aldington in Kent used, during fits of epilepsy or some similar disease, to scream out broken words relating to the topics of the day. Some monks, who saw with dread the Protestant tendencies of the divorce (Catherine being a Catholic

and Anne a Lutheran), turned the girl's madness into 1534 pretended prophecy, and called her "The Holy Maid of Kent." It was hinted to the king that, if he put away Catherine, death horrible and mysterious would seize him in seven months, and that his daughter should reign in his stead. Among those entangled, or said to be entangled, in the affair

were Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, and Sir Thomas More, exChancellor of England. The nun, Elizabeth Barton, was arrested, with six of her associates, and suffered death at Tyburn. Three men took a special share in the unravelling of the imposture-Cranmer, Cromwell, and Latimer. Cranmer has

been referred to already.

Thomas Cromwell, a native of Putney, and traditionally a blacksmith's son, picked up much of his sharpness and knowledge during some years of mercantile life on the Continent. Wolsey made him his solicitor, and kept the young man in constant employment. After entering the service of the king, his advice was that he should shake off all Roman trammels, and declare himself the sole and supreme head of the English Church. On this the fabric of his fortunes rose-only to fall with a sudden crash.

Yet more remarkable was the last of the trio, that son of a Leicestershire farmer, whose language never ceased to smack of fireside wit and broad English humour. Hugh Latimer, born about 1472, studied at Cambridge, where he imbibed the Reformation doctrines. Cromwell introduced him to the notice of Queen Anne, and ultimately put him in the way of receiving the mitre of Worcester in 1535.

The question of the headship was fatal to Bishop Fisher and Sir Thomas More. Both had refused to swear to the Act of Succession passed by Parliament in the end of 1534, and both had been attainted and imprisoned. After many

months of imprisonment in the Tower, they declined

1535

to accept the Act of Supremacy (1535), and were executed on Tower Hill-the bishop on June 22nd, and the ex

chancellor on July 6th.

daughter, rescued his head and caused it to be buried.

Margaret Roper, More's favourite

from the usual place of exhibition, Henry had done nothing yet that

so shocked the mind of Europe: the Italians especially heaped angry words on his name. There was then in Italy a young

Englishman of brilliant talents-Reginald Pole* (the grandson of the Duke of Clarence), whose timely flight from England had saved his head, for he too had opposed Henry's anti-papal movements. This eloquent priest, of whom we shall hear again, added the music of his voice to the letters of the scholarly Erasmus in mourning the fate of a man so gentle, wise, and witty as the author of Utopia.

About this time two outlying and very restless portions of the realm pushed themselves into prominence. Ireland, desolated by the feuds of the Butlers and the Fitzgeralds, broke into a rebellious condition, the flame being fanned by Roman Catholic influences from abroad. Lord Thomas Fitzgerald, a son of that old Earl of Kildare who had favoured the White Rose aspirants in the previous reign, headed the insurgents. With difficulty the rising was crushed, Silken Thomas and his five uncles suffering death on Tower Hill (1537). A lighter hand fell on the principality of Wales. Its numerous petty lordships, once independent and unruly, were bound tightly together and closely to the English throne. English laws henceforth governed all the mountain-land, and members went up from every Welsh shire, and from one borough in every shire, to sit among the English Commons (1536).

It is now time to notice that without which the Reformation would have been an incomplete event. The translation of the Bible into English had been going on through all these many changes. John Wyclif's version had grown too antiquated for popular use, so William Tyndale took up the work, and nobly did he accomplish his task. With the memories of his Cambridge friendships yet fresh in his glowing heart, he set out for Germany to talk with Luther; and, supported by the kindness of a London merchant, Humphrey Monmouth, he was able to complete at Antwerp a translation of the New Testament. It appeared in 1525 or 1526; and in spite of fine, imprisonment,

*See Genealogical Table, p. 306.

disgrace, and fire, the book made its way into English homes. The Pentateuch and Jonah followed from the same laborious pen, before Tyndale was strangled and burned near Antwerp (1536). His great associate, from whom he received valuable aid, was Miles Coverdale, an Augustine monk of Cambridge. He issued, the year before Tyndale's death, a folio volume, dedicated to King Henry, which contained the entire Bible, printed in the English tongue.

Rapidly the time sped on. The same year (1536) which saw Tyndale strangled at the stake witnessed the death of divorced Catherine on her lonely bed at Kimbolton in Huntingdonshire ; and, five months later, a more terrible scene within the Tower, when Anne Boleyn, convicted of unfaithfulness to her husband and of immorality, perished by the headsman's axe. Each of these luckless queens left Henry a daughter-Catherine being the mother of Mary, and Anne of Elizabeth. Anne died on May 19th. The very next day Henry took Jane Seymour to be the partner of his throne. She too favoured Protestantism; but the short duration of her married life prevented her influ ence in that way from being deeply felt. Giving birth to a son, Prince Edward, on the 12th of October 1537, she died of a chill some twelve days later. Henry had at last an heir, but his wife's place was a third time vacant.

A full year before these events, the English king had struck the heaviest blow at the Papacy in England by attacking and suppressing the monasteries. This he did with the strong and willing aid of Cromwell. There is little reason to suppose that Henry was actuated by reforming zeal. Anger and avarice had probably a good deal to do with the dissolution of the monasteries. The work proceeded by degrees. In 1536, after a visitation under the auspices of Cromwell, who played the part of king's vicar, three hundred and eighty of the smaller establishments, whose revenues did not pass £200 a year, were put down by Act of Parliament;

1536

and thus there was placed at the king's disposal a sum of £100,000, with the prospect in addition of £32,000 a year. That was almost the last Act of this memorable Parliament, which had begun its sittings in 1529.

The great change affected every corner of the land. The monastic system, the steady growth of nearly a thousand years, had struck its roots deep into English soil, and had woven its tendrils close round the heart of English life. Little wonder, then, that there should be much sorrow and suffering over all the country when the axe began to lop away the branches of the ancient tree. Rebellion was in that age the necessary consequence of discontent: the people had only one way of speaking to the throne. Not satisfied with the destruction of the minor monasteries, the king and his leading advisers compiled a "mingle-mangle or hotch-potch," as Latimer called it, which the nation were to accept as the condensed doctrine of the newly founded Church. The new doctrines, embodied in Ten Articles, were adopted by Convocation with Henry's approval. The Scriptures and the three creeds-the Apostolic, the Athanasian, and the Nicene--were to be the rule of faith. No images were to be worshipped. Many saints' days, especially such as fell in harvest-time, were to be kept no longer. Instead of seven sacraments, only three-Baptism, the Supper, and Penance-were to hold their ground. This mingled creed, embodied in the Bishops' Book (1537), acted on the smouldering anger of the people like oil on dying flames. Apart from Church questions, there was much discontent in the land. The nobles were jealous of the upstart Cromwell. There was much suffering among the poor. The clergy were alarmed for their livings, and worked on the minds of the people. First Lin

colnshire began to frown; then the entire north took 1537 fire. Forty thousand farmers and ploughmen, under

the leadership of Robert Aske, swept the basin of the Ouse, carrying banners displaying the dying Christ. Calling