Singing Hymns Until Death: The Joy of the British Martyrs

In this talk, recorded live at Chalke Valley History Festival 2023, Zachary Peatling investigates the stories of some of Britain's protestant martyrs, getting to the core of how, why, they could go to their deaths with a sense of joy and hope.

I’m excited to talk with you about these men and women who went to the execution block, the stake, the torture chamber, and to death still utterly sure, convinced, confident and, in many cases, saturated with a joy that doesn’t really make much sense. How is it that these people can face persecution, agony and ultimately death, still singing hymns? Still so utterly convinced of the God they refused to deny. Still so firm on the Scripture they refused to recant. We’ll be looking at the stories of Margaret Cheyne, Anne Askew, the Oxford Martyrs and the Stratford Martyrs to try and understand this. This will be a whistle-stop tour through their stories, their lives and their martyrdom. We will linger, for a while, in trying to really dig into what they believed and what could motivate them to do this, come hell or high water. 

So, let’s set the scene. It’s important that we understand the world we’re stepping into here. And to do that, we will start with Margaret Cheyne. Now, if there are any of you here that know about Margaret Cheyne, the history of the English Reformation or the dissolution of the monasteries, you might be thinking that Margaret is an odd choice to start a talk about the Joy of the British Martyrs. Margaret was not killed for her religious beliefs, per se, but for treason, for inciting rebellion. She has not gone down as a great torchbearer in Christian history, nor should she, really. She was a lady that was viewed as having a dubious moral character, a woman who supposedly convinced her husband to join a doomed revolution. So why? Why start a talk about men and women who died still singing hymns to a God they refused to denounce, with Margaret Cheyne? 

Well, because her story is so illustrative of the political and religious turmoil of the time, that she serves as a good starting point to understand the wider context. She also serves as a stark contrast between those who used the religious turmoil for political gain, and those who really, truly believed the Bible and were persecuted for it.

Margaret Cheyne was a women wrapped up in religious upheaval, political revolution and rather oppressive structures around gender and marriage. It was a world in the process of breaking apart long-established institutions and relationships, a monarchy lashing out to find an answer to gaining an heir, a very catholic atmosphere beginning to smell a little different with the rise of protestantism. 

In 1517, Martin Luther had nailed his 95 Theses to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg, Germany. Every strike of the hammer would reverberate through history. It sparked a reformation in Europe, and, when it reached the shores of England, became a perfect excuse for King Henry VIII to get his way. We probably all know the infamous story of Henry’s desire to divorce his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, and how it led him to split with the Church in Rome. The Church of England was more officially instituted and the battle against the Roman Church’s power began. For years, royalty had been trying to limit or curtail the power and privileges of the Church in England. The English reformation provided Henry with the perfect opportunity to turn this upside down.

Thomas Cromwell and Thomas Cranmer, Henry’s advisors led the seizure of Monastic land, buildings and wealth. Up until this point, the reformation had been pretty peaceful, with Royal Supremacy in the church and the abolition of papal authority not causing much widespread unrest. But, when they began to abolish saint’s days and pilgrimages, opposition rose. Violence broke out against those that came to dissolve the monasteries, mobs attacked the suppression commissioners, and revolts began to break out. 

The largest of these was the Pilgrimage of Grace, a 40,000 strong uprising that sought to change the economic, political and religious effects of this reformation, led by Robert Aske, and made up of a largely catholic membership. This is also the crux of Margaret’s story. Her and her husband became wrapped up in the attempted revolution, although the true extent of their involvement is unknown. When the rising ultimately failed, Margaret and her husband were among the number that were arrested, tortured and executed. 

What is fascinating about Margaret’s story is that we can see the wider religious context, the macro political context, and we can also gain valuable insight into the station, role and ability of women at the time. 

Margaret was born the illegitimate daughter of Edward Stafford, 3rd Duke of Buckingham, married off to William Cheyne, before he sold her to John Bulmer of Wilton, to be his mistress. This relationship seems to have been mutually affectionate, and the couple were married by 1536, after both of their former spouses had reportedly died. Because their relationship started in a wife sale, Margaret’s character was always under suspicion, and the legality of their marriage under scrutiny. This illustrates the position of women within marriage, how it was more like an ownership model than a partnership, that they could be bought or sold. 

Once the Pilgrimage of Grace collapsed, Margaret and her husband were arrested and taken to London. They were tortured, despite it being illegal to torture a woman at the time, and sentenced to death. The reasons Margaret was executed are rather unknown. Sharon L. Jansen argues that it may have been, mainly, to serve as an example to others: "Margaret Cheyne's sexual power was suspect; women like her could lure their husbands into danger. Men needed to submit to their princes, and they also needed to control their wives, their mothers, their daughters, their female servants. Margaret Cheyne had violated the contemporary notion that wives should be chaste, silent, and obedient, and her death could certainly have been intended as a warning about the proper behaviour of women.”

Margaret was burned at the stake. It was viewed as improper for women to hung, drawn and quartered (the usual punishment for treason), as it involved nudity, burning was the common substitute. 

England was in religious, political and ideological turmoil. In Margaret we have seen the issues of reformation, political upheaval and structures around gender. She also serves as a perfect contrast and background for our first martyr: Anne Askew. 

Sharp-tongued, quick-witted, a woman who stood firm in her beliefs and convictions, against society and the King’s church. A woman who was tortured to such a degree that she could not hold herself up against the burning pyre. A woman who said, in the face of torment and death: ‘I would rather die than break my faith’. Anne Askew, an ardent reformer and a unique figure in the history of women’s education and involvement in religious debates.

From young, she was known as incredibly smart, sharp-witted and outspoken. Her marriage ultimately dissolved because she had become a strong advocate for the reformational doctrines of Martin Luther. After having two kids and attempting to maintain their fracturing relationship, the disputes between her and her husband reached such a fever pitch that he turned her out of the house, and Anne set off for London, buoyed by her belief that he was sufficiently unbelieving to allow her to request a divorce. As she went, she seized to opportunity to evangelise. She handed out illegal protestant documents and preached, plainly, to anyone that would hear.

Not only this, but Anne was good at it! Her ability to answer questions, her handling of Scripture and the way she could explain it rivalled that of the inquisitors themselves. She was like a fire that could not be controlled or contained, and whenever someone tried, she would burn their hands.

In February 1546, Stephen Gardiner, a Catholic Bishop, and a man who would become a consistent persecutor of protestants, reared his fist of persecution once more, forming a plot to crush radical protestants. With the support of Henry VIII, began his pursuit of a list of 23 agitators and heretics. One of whom was Anne Askew. Gardiner believed that Anne was associated with Catherine Parr, Henry’s sixth wife, who had received some flack for her views on the importance of women and members of the lower classes studying the Bible.

Anne was arrested and sent to the Tower of London, condemned to be interrogated by means of torture. Despite it being illegal to torture a woman at the time, Anne was subjected to the rack, bound by her hands and feet, her limbs pulled further and further from their sockets. In her own words: 

Then they did put me on the rack… the Lord Chancellor and Master Rich took pains to rack me with their own hands, till I was nearly dead. I fainted... and then they recovered me again.

Despite the agony, despite the crippling torture, she refused. Unable to move, hardly able to breathe, her body torn limb from limb, she remained defiant, uttering the words: ‘I would rather die than break my faith’.

And so it was to be. Twice refusing to recant, she was moved to Newgate prison to await execution. And on 16th July 1546, the day came. Still ‘horribly crippled by her tortures’, she was carried to the stake on a chair. The stake itself had a small seat attached, chains bound her body upright, at the ankles, knees, waist, chest and neck. As the moment of final suffering came close, she remained defiant once more. Even to the preacher that was about to ring in her execution and light the fire beneath her feet, she scolded and rebuked them for not teaching the Bible, calling out wherever her misinterpreted or misrepresented the Word, saying ‘he misseth! He speaketh without the book!’. Her attitude is almost as one who says: ‘If you are to condemn me by the Scriptures, at least open the book!’

In one small act of almost back-handed, brutal, decency, one executioner tied a bag of gunpowder around her neck. It should make her death at least a little quicker. 

Anne Askew stands as a powerful example of courage, out-spoken, Biblical, defiance and as a woman whose assurance of faith and the truth of Scripture, allowed her to remain steadfast. So absolutely convinced was she of the truth, stability and hope of the Bible that she was able to stand and critique her executioner’s sermon as the fire lapped around her feet. 

It was Anne’s staunch confidence and reliance on scripture that is a theme we can trace through the stories of the later martyrs too. 

About nine years after Anne’s execution, the death of Henry VIII and his heir, Edward VI, Mary I was on the throne, and we find our next group of martyrs: those from Oxford. Hugh Latimer, the Bishop of Worcester, Nicholas Ridley, the Bishop of London and Thomas Cranmer, the Archbishop of Canterbury. 

Hugh Latimer was an academic through and through. He was sent to school at the age of 4 and entered university education at Cambridge at 14. He became a ‘scrupulous’ catholic priest, an opponent of Martin Luther and, in his own words, ‘as obstinate a papist as any was in England’. His conversion to the Reformational doctrines was influenced in large part by an infamous and renowned martyr, Thomas Bilney, a man who would have a profound effect on all three of the Oxford Martyrs. 

Nicholas Ridley, another Cambridge alumni, was brought to reformational thinking by the powerful Swiss reformer, Ulrich Zwingli. Sold out for these beliefs, in opposition to the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation in the Eucharist (the idea that the literal, physical, body and blood of Jesus is present in the wine and bread), it was Ridley who converted Thomas Cranmer to the reformation cause.

Cranmer was an alumni of Cambridge too, where it took him eight years to complete his BA, a surprisingly long time. He said himself that he had problems absorbing information, and his family was struck with financial difficulty, so I think he’s justified. 

These three men came together regularly as members of a group of young theologians that met at the White Horse Inn to discuss the reformational doctrines, religious reforms and theology. These also included William Tyndale (the legendary Bible-translator and reformer, Nicholas Shaxton (one of Anne Boleyn’s personal chaplains), and Matthew Parker (a later archbishop of Canterbury, and one of the founding theologians of anglican thought). 

These meetings would be the fire in which the reformers were forged. The spark to set them alight themselves? The martyrdom of Thomas Bilney. All three of these men listened to Bilney’s sermons, and were fascinated by his attacks "on the insolence, pomp, and pride of the clergy”. 

Bilney preached like this until he was arrested by Cardinal Wolsey, told to recant and do penance for his heresy. Rather surprisingly, he agreed. Immediately struck with guilt for his denial of the truth, Bilney headed to Cambridge, where he met with Hugh Latimer, confessed his recantation and decided to go back to preaching. He even went so far as to stand handing out the bibles translated by one of the other members of the White Horse Inn crew, William Tyndale. 

Almost immediately, Bilney was arrested again, and he knew he would be executed. And so it was, in 1531, he was led to the stake. Here is John Foxe’s description: The officers put reeds and wood around him and lit the fire, which flared up rapidly, deforming Bilney's face as he held up his hands. He cried, Jesus, I believe.’

Latimer, Ridley and Cranmer were deeply effected by Bilney’s death and began their careers as reformers. Latimer preached against catholic doctrines of purgatory, transubstantiation and indulgences. He became the Bishop of Worcester under Henry VIII and actually met with Anne Askew when she was imprisoned and tortured. 

Ridley preached widely, but was more reserved in his political oppositions to certain doctrines like purgatory and the Eucharist. He became bishop of London under Edward VI, Henry’s heir. 

Cranmer became a prominent figure in the court of Henry VIII, helping orchestrate his divorce from Catherine and marriage to Anne Boleyn. He was appointed Archbishop of Canterbury under Henry and began to institute the separation from the Church in Rome and brought about the dissemination of the Bible in English, based on Tyndale’s translation. 

Their reformational endeavours weren’t widely opposed until the reign of Mary I. An avid catholic, Mary wanted to revert England back to the Roman church, and set out to persecute those that had orchestrated the reforms under her father. She had Latimer, Ridley and Cranmer arrested and sent to the Bocardo Prison in Oxford. After many months, the time came. 

Latimer and Ridley were to be executed first. They were led out to the stake in the centre of Oxford. As they mounted the pyre, Latimer called out: ‘Be of good comfort Master Ridley, and play the man: we shall this day light such a candle by God's grace in England, as I trust shall never be put out.’ This absolute assurance in the sovereignty and providence of God never wavered in Latimer, as he died quickly. 

Ridley took longer to die, the flames engulfing his lower regions before ever reaching his upper. But even in this torment, Ridley cried out, ‘Let the fire come to me, I cannot burn!’

These two men were so utterly sure of the truth and stability of the Bible, so convinced of God’s faithfulness and sovereignty, that even in death they stood firm. 

Cranmer’s route to execution was a little more long-winded. He watched as his friends, Latimer and Ridley were burned, reportedly breaking down in tears. He wrote to Mary, begging her to assert her Royal Supremacy over the church of England, and not submit herself to the pope. She refused, and had Cranmer locked away with a catholic guard. The story goes that he was imprisoned so long that this guard became his only friend, his only source of moral support, that Cranmer began to cede ground to make him happy. Cranmer signed a full recantation in 1556. It wasn’t enough, despite him signing the paper, Mary refused to pardon him, and he was still sentenced to be burned. 

Before his execution, he was set up on a platform to announce that he had recanted his protestantism and agreed with the Catholic statements. Instead, he recanted his recantation, speaking viscously against ‘Christ's enemy, and Antichrist, with all his false doctrine’. The officials dragged him from the platform and led him to the pyre. Here’s John Foxe. "As the fire approached him, Cranmer put his right hand into the flames, keeping it there until everyone could see it burned before his body was touched." Cranmer was heard to cry: "this unworthy right hand!”. The hand that had signed the recantation was the hand that was to burn first. 

All three of these men were killed because they stood firm on the Scriptures, and all went to their death filled with an assurance, a hope, an expectation, and even perhaps a joy that God’s will would be done and their martyrdom would not be in vain. 

The same year the Oxford Martyrs were killed, 93 miles away in Stratford, thirteen men and women were executed because they refused to recant. There isn’t too much information on the route to their executions, but what makes this mass-martyrdom so stand-out, is because so many people were killed, all at the same time. All eleven men were tied to three stakes, the women, one of whom was actually pregnant at the time, were simply left standing in the centre of the pyre. And what makes this event so interesting for this topic in particular, is the fact that most of them, while refusing to recant, also outright agreed with what they were being charged with. The inquisitors would read off a count of heresy, and the men and women would nod, agree, affirm that charge and remain unwavering. What confidence! What assurance! 

They were all burned at the same time in an act that did a lot to garner Mary her infamous moniker, bloody. 

So with these stories, can we pull out some consistent themes that can help us understand what it was that enabled these martyrs to got to their deaths with hope, assurance and even some joy?

What I see are three themes: 1. Their belief in the Centrality and Strength of Scripture, 2. Their Assurance in The Sovereign Plan of God, 3. Their Hope of Heaven. 

Firstly, their belief in the Centrality and Strength of Scripture. Probably the most obvious recurring theme in these stories is their belief in Scripture. That the Bible was the standard and backstop for all things, especially when it came to doctrine and faith. That was the very core of the main protestant reformation anyway, a return to the basis of scripture and what it said. Tradition and the teaching of the church was sidelined in favour of a return to the Bible. This was the core theme in Anne Askew’s story. She refused to waver on what the Bible said, on the truth of it, and how that effected everything she did. If the Bible was true, then it effected everything. If it was reliable, it changed the very foundation of faith and doctrine. She couldn’t compromise, because the Bible, in her understanding, didn’t compromise either. 

Secondly, their assurance in The Sovereign Plan of God. This was the core element of the Oxford martyrs story, best illustrated in Latimer’s final encouragement: ‘Be of good comfort Master Ridley, and play the man: we shall this day light such a candle by God's grace in England, as I trust shall never be put out.’ So firmly did Latimer believe in the idea that their martyrdom would not be in vain, that God had some sort of sovereign purpose in it, and that their sacrifice would reverberate as an inspiration and a ‘candle’ throughout history. They could die knowing that the words of God to the old prophet were true: ‘As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.’. 

Finally, their hope of heaven. No martyr goes to their deaths thinking that nothing happens after they die. Nor did Latimer or Ridley. As the flames clawed their way over them, they both cried out: ‘O Father of heaven, receive my soul!’ And Anne Askew, while in Newgate Prison, wrote this as part of her confession of heresy: ‘Written by me, Anne Askew, that neither wish death, nor yet fear his might and as merry as one that is bound towards heaven.’ The hope of heaven, throughout Christian history has been a driving force. Knowing that whatever suffering takes place down here, will be rectified and restored up there. That even if they were to suffer for a time on earth, the loving arms of God would be open to them in heaven. It is the tension in which Christian theology exists: that to die is gain. 

And what about joy? It is in the title! Well, from these three themes, great joy was found for these martyrs. Ridley, as the flames were lit beneath him, said: ‘heavenly Father, I give unto Thee most hearty thanks, for that Thou hast called me to be a professor of Thee, even unto death.’ Anne Askew, wrote in a prayer: ‘Yet, sweet Lord, let me not set by them that are against me; for in thee is my whole delight.’ Joy was inherent within these suffering martyrs. They could be joyful because they had faith in the sovereignty of God, assurance of the veracity of Scripture and the distinct hope of heaven. 

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