1524—1525
Hamburg, Wittenberg, Cologne

Flight and
Flight Again

He is our Redeemer, Deliverer, Reconciler, Mediator, Intercessor, Advocate, Attorney, Solicitor, our Hope, Comfort, Shield, Protection, Defender, Strength, Health, Satisfaction and Salvation. His blood, his death, all that he ever did, is ours. And Christ himself, with all that he is or can do, is ours. . . . And God (as great as he is) is mine, with all that he hath, through Christ and his purchasing.

—William Tyndale, A Pathway into the Holy Scripture

“Inflamed with a Tender Care”

In proclaiming Tyndale’s departure from England, Foxe observed that he was motivated by his love for the simple word of God and for the English poor of his country. “Therefore, having by God’s providence some aid ministered unto him by Humphrey Mummuth, and certain other good men, he . . . departed into Germany, where the good man, being inflamed with a tender care and zeal of his country, refused no travail nor diligence, how, by all means possible, to reduce his brethren and countrymen of England to the same taste and understanding of God’s holy Word and verity . . . that the poor people might read and see the simple plain Word of God,” Foxe wrote.¹

When Tyndale reached Germany, the country was in the throes of the Lutheran Reformation. Fierce debates, centered on the Augustinian monk who dared challenge the authority of a 1,500-year-old church, raged. A whole new order was beginning. The age of controlling religious authority was being replaced with reason, conscience, and individual choice, and, after the fury of religious war was spent, tolerance. In Germany some cities were safe for a would-be translator; others were still uncompromisingly dangerous.

Tyndale’s first stop was Hamburg, as Humphrey Monmouth’s testimony verifies, but all contemporary evidence suggests that he soon went to Wittenberg—bastion of the formidable Luther, who had just finished his “September Testament” in German in 1522. One German prince called Wittenberg “the common asylum of all apostates.”² It was a logical destination. Hamburg was a great trading center and a sound choice for smuggling Bibles into England, but it was still a papal city. Wittenberg, by contrast, had a university, books, and scholars with which to confer. Luther’s reforming companion, Philipp Melanchthon, was a professor of Greek, and Hebrew, a novelty, was also studied in Wittenberg. The environment, for one of the few times in Tyndale’s life, was safe. Here he could work without fear.

An Early Alias

Sir Thomas More and John Foxe both verify that Tyndale visited Luther in Wittenberg. No official record survives of such a visit, but Luther and Tyndale were present in the city at the same time, and it would be surprising if Tyndale did not seek a conference with the leading reformer of the day. Many of Luther’s ideas found their way into Tyndale’s earliest writings, including the prologue to his first published manuscript of Matthew. Association with Luther would explain much of the violent opposition Tyndale later experienced, as would his advocacy of salvation by faith in Christ alone—a Lutheran doctrine—rather than by the sacraments of the Catholic Church.

Mozley discovered William’s name in the registers of Wittenberg University but disguised as Guillelmus (William) Daltici ex Anglia.Reversing the syllables of Tindal yields “Daltin,” which is close to Daltici.This name was listed in the registers with Matthias von Emerson, nephew to Margaret von Emerson of Hamburg, who later sheltered Tyndale and with whom he probably stayed when he first left England. These were dangerous times, and Tyndale had already begun to form his secretive ways. A later English martyr named Robert Barnes attended Wittenberg using the alias Antonius Anglus—his real name added in the margin by Melanchthon.³

Tyndale must have known he could find friendship with the von Emerson family in Hamburg through the German merchants of the London Steelyard. Perhaps Margaret convinced him to travel with her nephew to Wittenberg, where he finished his first translation of the New Testament in about nine months and mastered German. Returning to Hamburg, he lodged with the von Emerson family again while waiting for money from England to finance printing.

William Roye

While at Wittenberg, Tyndale teamed up with William Roye, a lapsed English friar from Greenwich considered an apostate by the Catholic Church. His name was also listed with Tyndale in the registers of Wittenberg. Though he had failings and was not Tyndale’s first choice, Roye became his first helper in the printing process nonetheless.

“While I abode [waited for] a faithful companion, which now hath taken another voyage upon him, to preach Christ where, I supposed, he was never yet preached, (God, which put in his heart thither to go, send his Spirit with him, comfort him, and bring his purpose to good effect!)  one William Roye, a man somewhat crafty, when he cometh unto new acquaintance, and before he be thorough known, and namely when all is spent, came unto me and offered his help. As long as he had no money, somewhat I could rule him; but as soon as he had gotten him money, he became like himself again. Nevertheless, I suffered all things till that was ended, which I could not do alone without one, both to write, and to help me to compare the texts together. When that was ended, I took my leave, and bade him farewell for our two lives, and (as men say) a day longer.”⁴

The identity of the “faithful companion” Tyndale favored as scribe remains a mystery. Later, Miles Coverdale came to Antwerp to help him with the books of Moses. Perhaps it was he. Foxe indicates that Tyndale, “considering in his mind, and conferring also with John Frith,” decided the scriptures must go to the common people.⁵ Could Frith have been the longed-for companion? He was like a son to Tyndale, as evidenced in private letters written just before Frith’s burning.

If Tyndale had a weakness, it was his trusting nature. He too easily believed that men would be true and unselfish, and that they would share the same noble vision he held. Assuming the best in his fellowmen often led to sad consequences. Such a noble trait should not be labeled weakness, even though betrayal by one whom Tyndale called “friend” eventually led to his death. In this he was not unlike Joseph Smith, whose personality attracted the deeply loyal as well as the devious and weak, such as John C. Bennett and William Law. Though helpful, William Roye jeopardized all Tyndale worked for, and as soon as possible Tyndale parted company with him. For the time being, his labor was too critical for him not to make use of Roye.

“Heated with Wine”

His translation of the New Testament finished, Tyndale now pondered where to have it printed. He needed a city close to his merchant connections and with access to shipping. He had three likely choices—Hamburg, Cologne, and Antwerp. Cologne and Antwerp had excellent printing houses and strong connections to English merchants. Antwerp was the main trading center of Europe and in time became Tyndale’s base, but for unknown reasons he decided on Cologne. Cologne, though somewhat neutral toward reform, had a strong Catholic fervor and was not safe, but it was on the Rhine with easy access to shipping bound for England. Tyndale arrived in the summer of 1525 with Roye and his completed manuscript and agreed with the printing house of Peter Quentell to produce the first printed English New Testament.

Things went well at first. Tyndale no doubt rejoiced in the fruits of his dream. The smell of ink, the noise of the press, and the sight of newly printed pages with the words “When Jesus was born at Bethlehem” must have produced strong emotions. But secrecy was demanded, for Tyndale’s initiative was a dangerous one. Sadly, William Roye was not a man to keep silent. Tyndale described him as one “whose tongue is able not only to make fools stark mad, but also to deceive the wisest, that is, at the first sight and acquaintance.”⁶ He spoke from personal experience.

An unknown enemy named John Dobneck walked the streets of Cologne. Known by his Latin name Cochlaeus (snail), he was a bitter opponent of the reforming spirit. When Luther’s German New Testament began to be read by the likes of tailors, shoemakers, and women, Dobneck was incensed. That many were memorizing whole sections and then debating openly with the clergy distressed him. The world would end in chaos if these alarming events were not checked. Reformers had driven Dobneck from his post as dean of St. Mary’s in Frankfurt and then from Mainz, in west Germany. He had personal grudges to settle with those who dared compromise the Catholic faith. He was so proud of stopping Tyndale in Cologne that he wrote three separate accounts of it, including the following:

“Two English apostates hoped . . . that they might through the printing-press multiply by many thousands the testament thus translated, and convey it thence secretly under cover of other merchandise to England. Such was their confidence of success, that at the first onset they asked the printers for an edition of six thousand [a considerable run for the times]. The printers, however, fearing that if any mishap occurred, they would suffer very heavy loss, put only three thousand to press; and if these were happily sold, they could easily print afresh.”⁷

Tyndale’s request for a run of six thousand shows his confidence in the English market. He was sure his New Testament would sell, even at the risk of the buyer’s life. John Dobneck recalled that the reformers were “so puffed up with vain confidence, that in their uncontrollable joy they made known the secret before its time.”⁸ He was not talking about Tyndale, whose nature was not given to boasting, but about Roye. The printers were not halfway through the Gospels, but Roye’s foolish tongue had triumphed prematurely in their ears, revealing their plans, their financial backing from merchant friends, and the talent behind it all.

Unfortunately, Dobneck was also printing religious books with Peter Quentell. While on a visit, he heard the printers talk about the English New Testament. Feigning friendship, he invited them to his lodging, “and when they were heated with wine, one of them in more private talk revealed to him the secret.”⁹ Despite Henry VIII or Cardinal Wolsey, the tipsy printers revealed, all of England would soon be Lutheran. The Englishmen responsible for the translation were skilled in languages and had the backing of merchants who planned to smuggle the books into English ports. Before anyone was aware of the clandestine importation, the whole of England would have the New Testament in English. The full scheme came tumbling out in a wine-induced revelation before the astonished Dobneck.

The Fox Escapes the Trap

Dobneck mulled over the information and then secretly revealed what he had learned to Hermann Rinck, a Cologne city leader. Before acting, Rinck quietly investigated Quentell’s shop to verify the report. Acting quickly, lest the fox escape the trap, Rinck and Dobneck went to the city authorities, obtained an interdiction on the work, and prepared to arrest Tyndale and Roye and destroy the translation. But an unknown friend tipped them off just in time, and the two, grabbing what printed pages they could, fled up the Rhine to Worms, a city in full support of Luther. Nevertheless, the cat was out of the bag. Dobneck and Rinck, a friend of Henry VIII, immediately wrote letters to the king, Cardinal Wolsey, and Bishop Fisher, warning them to keep a sharp eye on English ports for the dangerous contraband that would soon arrive.

Only one copy of what is called the Cologne Fragment has survived. It was found in 1834 bound with another reformer’s works. Now in the British Library, it contains a woodcut of Matthew dipping a pen into an inkpot held by an angel, Tyndale’s translation up to Matthew 22:12, and a list of New Testament books in the order of Luther’s September Bible (Luther listed Hebrews, James, Jude, and Revelation separately, not considering them of equal weight to the rest of the New Testament). It also includes a prologue, which gives a first glimpse of Tyndale in writing.

“For Your Spiritual Edifying”

The mild, sweet warmth of Tyndale’s initial thoughts are
worthy of the book he was endeavoring to make known to his countrymen:

“I have here translated, brethren and sisters most dear and tenderly beloved in Christ, the New Testament for your spiritual edifying, consolation and solace, exhorting instantly and beseeching those that are better seen in the tongues than I, and that have higher gifts of grace to interpret the sense of the scripture and meaning of the spirit than I, to consider and ponder my labour, and that with the spirit of meekness. And if they perceive in any places that I have not attained the very sense of the tongue or meaning of the scripture, or have not given the right English word, that they put to their hands to amend it, remembering that so is their duty to do: for we have not received the gifts of God for ourselves only, or for to hide them, but for to bestow them unto the honouring of God and Christ, and edifying of the congregation, which is the body of Christ.”¹⁰

Tyndale’s words echo the sentiments Moroni shared while translating the book of Ether. His words have the same humility, the same hope that God’s comforting truth would reach receptive hearts, the same fear that critics would read his efforts harshly and reject what he had diligently labored to get right, the same fear that his exertions had failed to match the dignity of the original.

“Lord, the Gentiles will mock at these things, because of our weakness in writing. . . . Thou hast also made our words powerful and great, even that we cannot write them; wherefore, when we write we behold our weakness, and stumble because of the placing of our words; and I fear lest the Gentiles shall mock at our words,” Moroni said. In reply, the Lord promised to “make weak things become strong” (Ether 12:23, 25, 27). The Lord did the same for Tyndale, whose first attempts to raise the Savior’s voice to the English ear ring with spirit and power.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,” Tyndale translated in the Cologne Fragment. Notice how the eight syllables in the first phrase of the Beatitudes match the eight syllables in the second phrase, with the word for acting as a fulcrum that divides the sentence. The pattern follows in the second phrase, with six syllables appearing on either side of for: “Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.” Similar patterns appear in the Cologne Fragment and in the King James Version used today by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, including “The last shall be first, and the first shall be last” and “For many are called, and few be chosen.”

The language is plain, concise, stately, and the combinations of words are just right. David Daniell, commenting on Tyndale’s fluid prose, wrote: “In his Bible translations, Tyndale’s conscious use of everyday words . . . and his wonderful ear for rhythmic patterns, gave to English not only a Bible language, but a new prose. England was blessed as a nation in that the language of its principal book, as the Bible in English rapidly became, was the fountain from which flowed the lucidity, suppleness and expressive range of the greatest prose thereafter. These are qualities . . . which should ideally be read aloud.”¹¹

“Who Is So Blind?”

Anticipating opposition, although not the hatred evident in the loud shouts of condemnation, the burning of his Testament, and his own martyrdom, Tyndale defended his actions in the prologue to Matthew. To the last, his amiable naivete and innocence remained largely unchanged.

“The causes that moved me to translate I thought better that other should imagine than that I should rehearse them. Moreover I supposed it superfluous: for who is so blind to ask why light should be showed to them that walk in darkness, where they cannot but stumble,and where to stumble is the danger of eternal damnation, or so despiteful that he would envy any man . . . so necessary a thing, or so bedlam mad to affirm that good is the natural cause of evil, and darkness to proceed out of light, and that lying should be grounded in truth and verity; and not rather clean contrary, that light destroyeth darkness, and verity reproveth all manner lying.”¹²

Nephi, quoting Isaiah, indicated that the Book of Mormon would cause the “eyes of the blind [to] see out of obscurity and out of darkness.” Describing the Gentiles in the latter days, Nephi also wrote, “Because of the many plain and precious things which have been taken out of the . . . gospel of the Lamb, an exceedingly great many do stumble.” The Book of Mormon andthe Bible, despite the “many plain and precious things taken away from the book,” were sent to clarify and enlighten (2 Nephi 27:29; 1 Nephi 13:29, 28). The emergence of both in the last days is part of God’s marvelous plan.

Tyndale’s prologue introduces a style so familiar that we might not consider its wonder. The majority of his argument is taken directly from scripture. Hints of Isaiah, Paul’s epistle to the Corinthians, and Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus are easily seen. Tyndale went straight to the word for his doctrine, not to the
scholars or church fathers. That approach was entirely new for his day, though it would seem only natural for our day.

Considering his “outlaw” life and the demands of his work, Tyndale felt he could not ask a wife to live in danger and uncertainty. “If I live chaste [unmarried],” he wrote, “I do it not . . . that I look for an higher room in heaven than they shall have which live in wedlock . . . but truly to wait on the evangelion [his gospel work of translation], and to serve my brother withal.”¹³

The “Philistines” Have Arrived

While Tyndale and Roye hurried up the Rhine to the safety of Worms, word raced across the channel to the king and his counselors. Henry was not yet engaged in his bitter travail with the pope over his divorce and saw himself, as his newly granted title suggested, as the Defender of the Faith. On December 2, 1525, news of Tyndale’s activities came to the attention of Edward Lee, the king’s almoner (one who distributed alms) and the ambassador to Spain. He quickly wrote a warning to England.

“I am certainly informed . . . that an Englishman, your subject . . . hath translated the New Testament into English, and within a few days intendeth to arrive with the same imprinted in England,” Lee wrote. “I need not to advertise your grace what infection and danger may ensue hereby, if it be not withstanded. This is the next way to fulfil your kingdom with Lutherans. For all Luther’s perverse opinions be grounded upon bare words of scripture. . . . All our forefathers, governors of the church of England, hath with all diligence forbad and eschewed publication of English bibles. . . . Now sir, as God hath endued your grace with Christian courage, to set forth the standard against these Philistines, and to vanquish them, so I doubt not but that he will assist your grace to prosecute and perform the same, that is to undertread them, that they shall not now again lift up their heads, which they endeavour now by means of English bibles. . . . Wherefore, lest any danger might ensue if these books secretly should be brought in, I thought my duty to advertise your grace thereof, considering that it toucheth your high honour, and the wealth and integrity of the Christian faith within your realm; which cannot long endure, if these books may come in.”¹⁴

Perhaps without fully recognizing it, Tyndale had thrown down the gauntlet not only to the whole church structure but also to Henry VIII. Fortunately, he had learned a valuable skill in Cologne—how to disappear. For a decade, he eluded diligent and unrelenting searches by slipping in and out of cities, ports, and printing shops—doing so in a day when cities numbered well below a hundred thousand. His few surviving letters have no address or identifying marks to indicate his whereabouts. His language skills were certainly an asset, but he was a foreigner nonetheless and with limited funds. He found help from the few friends he could trust and, of course, from an overseeing God who knew the value of the words flowing from his pen.

Notes

^1. Foxe, Book of Martyrs, 179.

^2. Mozley, William Tyndale, 52.

^3. Ibid., 53.

^4. Greenslade, Work of William Tindale, 99.

^5. Foxe, Book of Martyrs, 179.

^6. Greenslade, Work of William Tindale, 100.

^7. In Mozley, William Tyndale, 58.

^8. Ibid., 58.

^9. Ibid., 59.

^10.  Tyndale, “Cologne Prologue,” in Mozley, William Tyndale, 62—63. The prologue was expanded and published in 1531 as A Pathway into the Holy Scripture.

^11. Daniell, William Tyndale, 116.

^12. Tyndale, “Cologne Prologue,” in Mozley, William Tyndale, 62—63.

^13. Mozley, William Tyndale, 63.

^14. Ibid., 65—66.