Good Dean Colet—Accession of Henry VIII.—Papal Favour—Cardinal Wolsey at St. Paul's—Bishop Fisher's Preaching at Paul's Cross—Fall of Wolsey—Alienation of the King from the Pope—The English Bible in the Cathedral—Edward VI.—Ridley's Strong Protest against the Images—Progress of the Reformed Doctrines—Somerset's Evil Deeds—Destruction of the Cloisters—Re-establishment of the Roman Mass under Mary—Cardinal Pole at St. Paul's—The Lord Mayor's Proclamation—Alienation of the Nation from Romanism—Death of Mary and Accession of Elizabeth—The Reformed Liturgy Restored—Growth of Puritanism—Destruction of the Steeple by Lightning—Continued Irreverence—Retrospect, the Tudor Monuments.
It seems fitting that we should open the chapter of a new era in the history of St. Paul's with the name of its most famous Dean, a great, wise, good man. His name was John Colet. He was born in London, in the year 1466, within three months of his famous friend, Erasmus. His father, Sir Henry Colet, was twice Lord Mayor, one of the richest members of the Mercers' Company. John, who was his eldest son, had ten brothers and eleven sisters, all by the same mother, who outlived the last of them. The young man was presented to livings (it was no unusual thing then) before he took Orders, and gave himself to study, both mathematical and classical, and in his zeal for learning travelled much abroad, where he saw much of ecclesiastical life, which startled him greatly. Returning, at length, to England, he was ordained at Christmas, 1497, went to Oxford, and began to lecture with great power on the Epistle to the Romans. It must be remembered that this was the epoch when the fall of Constantinople had driven the Greek scholars westward, the epoch of the revival of "the new learning" in Europe, the discrediting of the old scholastic philosophy which was now worn out and ready to vanish away. Colet stands before us then as the representative of the new learning in England, and as keen to reform the abuses in[page 38] the Church which were terrifying all earnest and thoughtful men. He carried on his lectures with such energy that his lecture-room was crowded, the most distinguished tutors there being among his audience. And one day there came the great Erasmus, who had heard of him, and from the day of their first meeting they were fast friends for life. In 1504, Henry VII. made Colet Dean of St. Paul's, and he showed at once that he had lost none of his zeal. He carried on his lectures in the cathedral and preached constantly, and another warm friend made now was Sir Thomas More, who earnestly helped him in his strenuous endeavours to improve the cathedral statutes, to reform abuses, and to increase the preaching power. He was a rich man, and in 1509 he employed much of his wealth—about £40,000 present value—in the foundation of St. Paul's School. He wrote some simple precepts for the guidance of masters and scholars, and drew up prayers and an English version of the Creed. He appointed William Lilly first master, and called on Linacre to write a Latin grammar. The school became famous; it was burnt down in the Fire, rebuilt in 1670, and removed to Hammersmith in 1884. It is not to be wondered at that many of the churchmen of the day regarded Colet as a most dangerous innovator. Complaints were made to Archbishop Warham that he was favouring the Lollards, which was absolutely untrue. He would in all probability, had he lived, have been found on the same side as More and Fisher, that is, intensely desirous to preserve the Church and its doctrines, but to cleanse it from the foul scandals, the sloth, greed, immorality, which were patent to all the world. There was a meeting of Convocation in February, 1512, to consider how to extirpate the Lollard heresy which was reviving. Warham appointed Colet to preach the sermon, which he did with wonderful energy, denouncing the simony, the self-indulgence, and the ignorance of the bishops and clergy. The Lollards were there in great numbers, attentive, silent listeners. He was as plain and honest with the King himself, who, recognising his goodness of purpose, made him a Royal Chaplain. In 1514, he went with Erasmus on pilgrimage to Becket's tomb and ridiculed the accounts which the vergers gave of the healing power of the relics. When Wolsey was installed as Cardinal, Colet preached, and warned him[page 39] against worldly ambition. And all through his time at St. Paul's the aged Bishop Fitzhugh was in active hostility to him. He died September 16th, 1519, and, although he had requested that only his name should be inscribed on his grave, the Mercers' Company erected a handsome tomb, for which Lilly wrote a long inscription. Lilly and Linacre were both buried near him.
It will be seen, I think, at once that Colet is a great representative of the thoughtful and earnest men of his time, one of the greatest precursors of the Reformers, or rather, in full sense, a great reformer himself. We have now to take up the course of secular events. In 1514, Pope Leo X. sent young King Henry VIII. a "sword and cap of maintenance" as a special honour, and he, "in robe of purple, satin, and gold in chequer, and jewelled collar," came to the Bishop's palace, and from thence there was a grand procession of gorgeously-arrayed nobles and clerics round the church, with joyous hymns.
Four years later came Wolsey, and sang High Mass to celebrate eternal peace between England, France, and Spain. The King's beautiful sister, Mary, was betrothed at the same time to Louis XII., who was fifty-three years old, while she was sixteen. Within three months he died, and she married Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, and became grandmother of Lady Jane Grey. Again one comes on a full description of the gorgeous ceremonial. A year later, the accession of Charles V. was announced by the Heralds in St. Paul's, and Wolsey pronounced a benediction. The great Cardinal was now in full hopes of the papal tiara; the same year he came in state (May 12th, 1521) with the Archbishop of Canterbury, Warham, to hear Bishop Fisher denounce Luther at Paul's Cross, with accompanying appropriate ceremonies. An account on a broad-sheet in the British Museum tells how Wolsey came with the most part of the bishops of the realm, "where he was received with procession and censed by Mr. Richard Pace, Dean of the said church." Pace was a native of Winchester, who had won the favour of two successive bishops of that See, and been educated by them. One of them sent him to the Continent to complete his course. He took Orders in 1510, and his evident ability induced Wolsey to employ[page 40] him in more than one delicate and difficult case of foreign diplomacy, and also brought him to the favourable notice of the King, who, after many other preferments, made him Dean of St. Paul's on the death of Colet. He was held to be the very ablest of diplomatists, was a friend of Erasmus, and followed Colet in favouring "the new learning." It was he and Sir T. More who persuaded the King to found Greek professorships at Oxford and Cambridge.
But to return to the ceremony at St. Paul's. "After the Dean had duly censed him, the Cardinal, while four doctors bore a canopy of gold over him, went to the high altar, where he made his obligation; which done, he went, as before, to the Cross in the churchyard, where was a scaffold set up. On this he seated himself under his cloth of estate, his two crosses on each side of him; on his right hand, sitting on the place where he set his feet, the Pope's ambassador, and next him the Archbishop of Canterbury; on his left hand, the Emperor's ambassador, and next him the Bishop of Durham (Rusthall); and all the other bishops, with other noble prelates, sat on two forms out right forth, and then the Bishop of Rochester made a sermon by the consenting of the whole clergy of England, by the commandment of the Pope, against one Martinus Eleutherus and all his works, because he erred sore, and spake against the Holy Faith; and denounced them accursed which kept any of his books; and there were many burned in the said churchyard of his said books during the sermon. Which ended, my Lord Cardinal went home to dinner with all the other prelates."
The Bishop of Rochester was, of course, Fisher. He was both learned and pious. Burnet says he strongly disliked Wolsey, because of the latter's notoriously immoral life. Fisher, though in his unflinching conservatism he regarded the proceedings of Luther with hostility, was anxious, as were More and Erasmus and Colet, for reformation on Catholic lines. He, like them, favoured the new learning, and even declared that the Continental reformers had brought much light to bear upon religion. But he opposed the King's divorce, and refused to acknowledge his supremacy over the Church, and was beheaded on Tower Hill, June 22nd, 1535. There was[page 41] no act of Henry which more thoroughly excited popular horror.
When Charles V. came to England, in 1522, Wolsey again said Mass at St. Paul's, with twenty bishops to cense him. It was on this occasion that he changed the meeting-place of Convocation from St. Paul's to Westminster, that it might be near his own house. Skelton, the poet, who hated Wolsey, thereupon wrote the following distich:—
"Gentle Paul, lay down thy sword,
For Peter, of Westminster, hath shaven thy beard."
In 1524, Francis I. was taken prisoner at the battle of Pavia, whereupon the sympathy of England for his successful rival was shown by a huge bonfire in front of St. Paul's, and the distribution of many hogsheads of claret. On the Sunday following, Wolsey sang Mass, and the King and Queen, with both Houses of Parliament, were present. Once more (Shrove Tuesday, 1527) the great Cardinal came in dignity; it was to denounce the translation of the Bible and to condemn the Lutherans. Certain "heretics" were marched through the cathedral in penitential dresses, and carrying faggots, which they threw into the fire by the great rood at the north door, in which Testaments and Lutheran tracts were also burned. On this occasion, also, Fisher preached the sermon. A few years later (1530), there was a similar holocaust, at which the Bishop (Stokesley) presided.
But now came an event of momentous importance. Wolsey fell into disgrace with the King, and, after some preliminary attacks, was charged with high treason. From trial on this charge he was delivered by death (November 28th, 1530). But he had brought the clergy unwittingly into trouble. The law of Præmunire forbade a man to accept the office of papal legate in England, or the clergy to recognise him. Wolsey had obtained a patent under the Great Seal to exercise legatine authority, and for fifteen years no objection had been taken. When he was indicted for the infringement of the law, he refused to plead royal permission, fearing to incur yet greater displeasure of the King. So judgment went by default. And now the clergy were likewise impeached. They met in St. Paul's Chapter[page 42] House, and in their terror offered £100,000 fine, under the advice of the Bishop. The King refused to accept this unless they recognised him as "supreme head of the Church." Three days' discussion of this proposition followed, then, on the proposal of Archbishop Warham, they agreed to the following:—"of which Church and clergy we acknowledge his Majesty to be the chief protector, the only supreme lord, and, as far as the law of Christ will allow, the supreme head." Such a compromise meant nothing, for it did not attempt to define what the law of Christ on the subject was. But it was evident that the Reformation had begun in earnest. Though nineteen Anabaptists were condemned in St. Paul's to be burned, and on fourteen of them the sentence was carried out, Paul's Cross echoed with renunciation of the Pope's authority. The miraculous rood of Bexley, in Kent, having been exposed as a fraud there, was brought up to Paul's Cross, February, 1538, and the mechanism having been shown to the indignant audience, it was committed to the flames.