1535—1536
Vilvorde Castle, the Low Countries

“A Year and One Hundred Thirty-Five Days”

The poor and wretched sinner feeleth so great mercy, love and kindness in God, that he is sure in himself how that it is not possible that God should forsake him, or withdraw his mercy and love from him; and boldly crieth out . . . What shall make me believe that God loveth me not? Shall tribulation? Anguish? Persecution? Shall hunger? Nakedness? Shall sword? Nay. . . . In all such tribulations a Christian man perceiveth that God is his Father, and loveth him even as he loved Christ when he shed his blood on the cross.

—William Tyndale, A Pathway into the Holy Scripture

The Dark Prison of Vilvorde Castle

The account records of the Castle of Vilvorde are preserved in the archives of Brussels. Under the title “Account of the confiscated goods of the Lutherans and heretical sects,” we read the following entry concerning funds paid to Adolf van Wesele, lieutenant of the castle: “In keeping of a certain prisoner, named Willem Tintalus, Lutheran . . . for a year and one hundred thirty-five days, at forty stivers the day.” Tyndale paid for his own imprisonment, and his goods were used to that purpose.

Though Tyndale was not a Lutheran, his defense of salvation through faith in Christ, not the rituals of Catholicism, bound him to that initial reformer. He was a heretic, and as a heretic he would be confined and tried. He was now in the hands of the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V, and Charles was a devout Catholic. Under his rule and that of his son Phillip, the Spanish Inquisition would continue its cruel march into historical infamy. Clearly things looked dark.

Vilvorde Castle was built in 1374 of great strength. Its seven towers looked down upon an encircling moat. Entrance was through one of three drawbridges. The castle was damp with a perpetual musty smell; in the winters it was cold and dark. It no longer stands, but in Tyndale’s day it served as the main prison for the Low Countries.

Tyndale was closely confined, his only visitors those hostile to him. He was a noted prisoner, and it would not do to have him escape. Vilvorde was the logical choice both in proximity to Brussels and Louvain and in security. Tyndale passed his days in the castle’s cheerless rooms, anticipating no leniency from his captors.

“It Is No Great Matter Whether They
Be Guilty or Innocent”

Tyndale had friends among the English merchants and a powerful supporter in England in the person of Thomas Cromwell. He could not be lightly examined or executed. There was still hope, and Thomas Poyntz went to work to turn that hope into reality. Soon, “by the help of English merchants, were letters sent, in favour of Tyndale, to the court of Brussels. Also, not long after, letters were directed out of England to the council at Brussels, and sent to the merchant-adventurers, to Antwerp, commanding them to see that with speed they should be delivered.”¹

Poyntz was the lead man in all of these endeavors and was fighting an uphill battle. Charles V was not on good terms with England’s Henry. His aunt was Catherine of Aragon, the wife Henry had just divorced to marry Anne Boleyn. Charles was also chafing from the rise of Lutheranism in Germany and his waning control over the German states. There was little hope of clemency from this quarter.

Tyndale’s accuser, the procurer-general, was named Pierre Dufief, a ruthless, cruel tormentor of Lutherans. If his religious fervor failed to motivate him to condemn Tyndale, his greed might, for the
procurer-general received a portion of a man’s goods if he was found guilty. He was also paid a fee for his labor. In Tyndale’s case, he received 128 pounds, a considerable sum for the time. For Dufief, the line between accuser and judge was thin, and he occupied both roles cunningly.

The commissioners assigned to judge Tyndale also detested charitable sentences, especially when the accused was a famous heretic. They found support in the Decree of Augsburg, which made the preaching of justification by faith a capital crime. To rid Europe of the acknowledged leader of the English Reformation would be a coup for the heresy haters. One of them, a theologian from the university at Louvain named James Masson, strongly opposed anything that challenged Catholicism, including the gentle criticisms of Erasmus.

A second commissioner, a professor at Louvain named Ruard Tapper, had experience in dealing with dissent. Nine months after Tyndale’s death, the pope appointed Tapper inquisitor general for all of the Low Countries. Known for his cruelty and fanaticism, he was guided by a general rule that often typified the approach to justice: “It is no great matter whether they that die on account of religion be guilty or innocent, provided we terrify the people by such examples; which generally succeeds best, when persons eminent for learning, riches, nobility or high station are thus sacrificed.”² Other less notorious men were also assigned to Tyndale’s case, bringing the number to more than a dozen.

Cromwell’s Spy

Letters to Brussels from English merchants would not have been treated lightly. The merchants made up a powerful economic force and could not be ignored. In their eyes, their diplomatic privileges had been compromised with Tyndale’s arrest. Tyndale was honored among many of the English House for his religious beliefs; in addition, his translations and other writings were good for business, even if they needed to be clandestinely slipped into the English market.

Poyntz, in particular, was determined to do everything he could to save his friend. He personally carried letters throughout Belgium and to and from England. Merchant letters, combined with pressure from the English court, just might be enough to turn the tide in Tyndale’s favor. Henry, however, did not want to be seen as supporting the reformers—support from his court came mainly from Anne Boleyn. Henry had broken with Rome and was merrily divesting the Catholic Church of much of its land in England, but he did not favor Lutheran ideas and had to walk a thin line. He executed Sir Thomas More and Bishop John Fisher, both staunch papists, but he also sent fourteen Anabaptist heretics to the stake within a few days of Tyndale’s arrest. Unfortunately for Tyndale, they were Dutch. The powers in Brussels would not be inclined to release a notorious English heretic as a favor.

Cromwell had to be cautious, but he began to weave a judicious route through the uncertain world of 16th-century politics. He instructed his godson Thomas Theobald, whom he had used in diplomatic missions overseas, to gather information. In July 1535, Theobald was in Antwerp writing to Archbishop Thomas Cranmer and secretary Cromwell about Tyndale and Phillips. He had been to Louvain, met with Phillips, and gathered what insight he could. He wrote to Cranmer:

“All succour that I can perceive them to have, is only by him which hath taken Tyndale, called [Henry] Phillips, with whom I had a long and familiar communication; for I made him believe that I was minded to tarry and study at Louvain. I could not perceive the contrary by his communication, but that Tyndale shall die, which he doth follow [urge] and procureth with all diligent endeavor, rejoicing much therein. . . . This said Phillips is greatly afraid (insomuch as I can perceive) that the English merchants that be in Antwerp will lay watch to do him some displeasure privily. Wherefore of truth he hath sold his books in Louvain . . . intending to go hence to Paris; and doth tarry here upon nothing but of the return of his servant, which he hath long since sent to England with letters; and by cause of his long tarrying he is marvelously afraid lest he be taken, and come into Mr. Secretary’s [Cromwell] handling with his letters.”³

Phillips undoubtedly sent his servant back to England to report on his success and receive money in payment. He feared both the vengeance of the merchants and the pursuit of Cromwell, for Phillips had spoken strongly against the king, and his letters, if found, would have been damaging evidence. Despite his fears, he remained to see Tyndale’s prosecution through to the end. Had he fled, Phillips would have been unable to remove Tyndale’s last hope.

Tyndale’s Untiring Friend

Poyntz knew of Theobald’s visit, but when nothing happened, he took matters into his own hands. Poyntz’s brother John had a position at court and could, perhaps, use his influence to move matters in Tyndale’s favor. Thomas wrote a poignant letter on August 25, urging his brother to persuade Cromwell to pressure Brussels to release Tyndale.

“Brother, I write to you on a matter greatly concerning the king. My love of my country and my duty to my prince compels me to speak, lest the king be misled and brought into injury by men, yes traitors, who, under colour of forwarding his honour, seek to bring their own purposes to pass. . . . For whereas it was said here the king had granted his gracious letters in the favour of one William Tyndale, for to have been sent hither; the which is in prison and like to suffer death, except it be through his gracious help; it is thought those letters be stopped. This man lodged with me three quarters of a year, and was taken out of my house by a sergeant-at-arms, otherwise called a door-warder, and the procuror-general of Brabant; the which was done by procurement out of England, and, as I suppose, unknown to the king’s grace till it was done. For I know well, if it had pleased his grace to have sent him a commandment to come into England, he would not have disobeyed it, to have put his life in jeopardy. . . .

“And by the means that this poor man, William Tyndale, hath lain in my house three quarters of a year, I know that the king has never a truer hearted subject to his grace this day living. . . . The death of this man will be a great hindrance to the gospel, and to the enemies of it one of the highest pleasures. . . . And I think he shall shortly be at a point to be condemned; for there are two Englishmen at Louvain that do and have applied it sore, taking great pains to translate out of English into Latin in those things that may make against him, so that the clergy here may understand it, and to condemn him, as they have done all others, for keeping opinions contrary to their business, the which they call the order of holy church.

“Brother, the knowledge that I have of this man causes me to write as my conscience bids me; for the king’s grace should have of him at this day as high a treasure as of any one man living, that has been of no greater reputation. Therefore I desire you that this matter may be solicited to his grace for this man, with as good effect as shall lie in you, or by your means to be done, for in my conscience there be not many perfecter men this day living, as knows God. Brother, I think that if Walter Marsh, now being governor of the English house, had done his duty effectually here at this time, there would have been a remedy found for this man.”⁴

Of all those who loved Tyndale and valued his work, none fought so earnestly and without concern for his own safety or affairs as did Thomas Poyntz. We sense his frustration with the head of the English House, whom Poyntz accused of dragging his feet for fear of appearances. Master Marsh had good reason not to pursue the release of Tyndale too actively, as the consequences for Poyntz later proved.

“To Know the King’s Pleasure for Tyndale”

John Poyntz did as his brother asked and forwarded the letter to Cromwell, but Cromwell had already acted. In one of Cromwell’s “remembrances” preserved in the Records Office in England is an entry regarding one of his visits with the king. It reads, “To know the king’s pleasure for Tyndale, and whether I shall write or not.”⁵ The visit took place in August; John Poyntz did not forward his brother’s letter until September 21. Cromwell had already received permission from Henry and wrote two letters to highly placed members of the privy council in the Netherlands, asking clemency for Tyndale as a favor to the king of England—one to the council president, Archbishop Carondolet of Palermo, and a second to the Marquis of Bergen-op-Zoom, an official in the Netherlands.

Cromwell sent the letters to Stephen Vaughan, who was in London at the time. Vaughan had been impressed with Tyndale when the two met in Antwerp and could be counted on to help. Vaughan forwarded the letters to George Collins, who passed them on to his fellow merchant Robert Flegge. Earlier, Collins and Flegge had actively issued warnings about Henry Phillips’s presence in the area. The Marquis of Bergen-op-Zoom was in Germany escorting the daughter of the king of Denmark to her marriage, so the ever-loyal Poyntz hurried after him. Overtaking him, he delivered Cromwell’s letter, along with other letters written by the merchants, including one from Flegge, pleading for Tyndale.

The marquis reminded Poyntz that his own countrymen had recently been burned in England (fourteen Anabaptists), but Poyntz remained determined. If someone had spoken in their favor, he claimed, certainly England would not have denied a request for their release. The marquis then told Poyntz that he was a busy man, the princess was ready to leave, and he had no time to deal with the matter. Poyntz countered that he was prepared to accompany the marquis to his next stop, where the marquis could write the necessary letters. Poyntz was so solicitous that the marquis finally agreed. He composed three letters—one to the council itself, one to Cromwell, and one to the merchant adventurers in Antwerp.

Things looked brighter, and Poyntz rushed back with the precious documents. He hand delivered the letters to the emperor’s council in Brussels and was told to wait for a reply. With the response in hand, he returned to Antwerp and was instructed by the merchants there to personally escort the reply and other letters back to England.

“And he, very desirous to have Master Tyndale out of prison, let not to take pains, with loss of time in his own business and occupying, and diligently followed with the said letters, which he there delivered to the council [in England], and was commanded by them to tarry until he had other letters, with which he was not dispatched thence in a month after. At length, the letters being delivered him, he returned again, and delivered them to the emperor’s council at Brussels, and there tarried for answer of the same.”⁶ Poyntz knew the prosecution against Tyndale was proceeding. For a businessman used to prompt transactions, the grinding gears of diplomacy must have been agonizing.

Tyndale to Be Released

The days continued to drag on endlessly. Tyndale had been in prison for five months while the two countries sparred over his future. Both Flegge and Foxe provide details of what then took place. Flegge wrote to Cromwell at the end of September, informing him of his efforts and adding that the marquis “is very sorry to be absent from court, and so unable to render the king’s highness and you such service as he would wish; but he has written to the bishop of Palermo, begging him strongly to do everything to further your wishes; for he can do most in the matter. This letter from the marquis to the archbishop, together with your own letter to the same, the messenger has presented, and begged for a favourable and speedy answer. The archbishop spoke with the queen and council, and has written you the answer which I send by the same bearer. I pray God it may be to the king’s pleasure and yours.”⁷

Poyntz paced the halls of the council chambers for “three or four days.” He had some reason to hope for the best; after all, Tyndale’s writings were all directed toward the English. Strictly speaking, he had not troubled anyone in the Low Countries. He had not written in any language other than English, and the English government was pushing for his release, not his condemnation. Finally, “it was told him by one that belonged to the Chancery, that Master Tyndale should have been delivered to him according to the tenor of the letters.”⁸ He had won! Tyndale would soon be back at English House, and this time the security guarding him would not be breached.

Regrettably, Poyntz had not counted on the vindictiveness and influence of Henry Phillips, who, though deeply frightened by the merchants of Antwerp, had stayed on in the safer city of Brussels. Seeing Tyndale on the verge of release, Phillips, “doubting lest he should be put from his purpose, . . . knew no other remedy but to accuse Poyntz, saying, that he was a dweller in the town of Antwerp, and there had been a succourer of Tyndale, and was one of the same opinion; and that all this was only his own labour and suit, to have Master Tyndale at liberty, and no man’s else. Thus upon his information and accusation, Poyntz was attached [arrested] by the procuror-general, the emperor’s attorney, and delivered to the keeping of two sergeants at arms.”⁹

Poyntz Arrested

It was now November, and Tyndale’s champion was under house arrest in Brussels. How Phillips must have gloated in his victory after taking great lengths to draw up twenty-four articles against Poyntz, who was soon fighting for his own life. For several months, the
prosecutor grilled Poyntz, with Phillips always lurking in the background, just as he had done outside the door when Tyndale’s examiners probed for damaging evidence they might use against him. Poyntz drew upon every strategy he could to delay but was finally cornered and entangled in the legal net of Dutch law. Unable to obtain release on bail through the Antwerp merchants, Poyntz could see death staring him in the face.

Before being taken to a strong prison like the one that held Tyndale, Poyntz escaped. Hiding in the darkness of Brussels until morning light, he slipped through the opening city gates. Familiar with the countryside, he eluded his pursuers and finally made his way to England. His defense of Tyndale had left him financially ruined, and his Dutch wife refused to join him in England with her children. He had gambled all in behalf of the father of the English Bible and barely escaped with his life. Meanwhile, the loneliness of the dark rooms of Vilvorde Castle closed in around William Tyndale as he waited for his judges to pronounce his inevitable fate.

Notes

^1. Foxe, Acts and Monuments,5:123—24.

^2. Mozley, William Tyndale, 326.

^3. Ibid., 304—5; spelling standardized.

^4. Ibid., 309—11.

^5. Ibid., 312.

^6. Foxe, Acts and Monuments,5:124.

^7. Mozley, William Tyndale, 313.

^8. Foxe, Acts and Monuments,5:124.

^9. Ibid.