1536
Vilvorde Castle and Brussels

“Open the King of England’s Eyes!”

Here seest thou the uttermost, what a Christian man must look for. It is not enough to suffer for righteousness; but that no bitterness or poison be left out of thy cup, thou shalt be reviled and railed upon. . . . Well, though iniquity so highly prevail, and the truth, for which thou diest, be so low kept under, and be not once known before the world, insomuch that it seemeth rather to be hindered by thy death than furthered, (which is of all griefs the greatest) yet let not thine heart fail thee, neither despair, as though God had forsaken thee, or loved thee not: but comfort thyself with old ensamples, how God hath suffered all his old friends to be so entreated, and also his only and dear son Jesus; whose ensample, above all other, set before thine eyes, because thou art sure he was beloved above all other, that thou doubt not but thou art beloved also, and so much the more beloved, the more thou art like to the image of his ensample in suffering.

—William Tyndale, Exposition upon the
V, VI, and VII Chapters of Matthew

“Great Disputation to and Fro”

We know little about the year and one hundred and thirty-five days Tyndale spent in Vilvorde while Poyntz desperately attempted to save him. Masson and Tapper, the theologians from Louvain, engaged in many debates with him both in writing and in person. Dufief, the emperor’s attorney, questioned him repeatedly over the months of his confinement. To be useful as evidence, Tyndale’s writings had to be translated into Latin. All of this took time, and so the days passed from summer into fall and then winter.

We do not know whether Tyndale learned of the efforts to save him. Under house arrest, Poyntz likely had little opportunity to communicate with Tyndale. The ever-hovering Phillips would have cast a constant dark shadow over deliberations regarding both men, and he is almost certainly one of the two Englishmen mentioned by Poyntz in a letter to his brother John who were engaged in translating Tyndale’s works into Latin.

Though offered an advocate, Tyndale preferred to answer for himself and did so with such gentleness and charm that his examiners could not help but be moved by his patience and intelligence. He grounded his answers in the scripture. Masson and Tapper, both intelligent, readily recognized the mark of a sound mind. Foxe writes, “There was much writing and great disputation to and fro, between him and them of the university of Louvain . . . in such
sort, that they all had enough to do, and more than they could well wield, to answer the authorities and testimonies of the Scripture, whereupon he most pithily grounded his doctrine.”¹

In his defense, Tyndale expounded the scriptures with “divers lawyers and doctors in divinity, as well as friars and others, with whom he had many conflicts.”² He requested the presence of some divines who could speak his beloved English. The constant arguments in Latin tired him until the sound of his native tongue, even coming from an opponent, provided relief.

Winning the Hearts of His Enemies

Close association with Tyndale usually softened feelings against him. Even the cruel Dufief was softened by his conferences with him. Foxe writes, “The procurator-general, the emperor’s attorney, being there, left his testimony of him, that he was, ‘Homo doctus, pius et bonus,’ that is [to say] ‘a learned, a good, and a godly man.’”³

In this way, Tyndale resembled Joseph Smith, who often subdued the hearts of his enemies from Missouri to Carthage. And like Paul in Philippi, Tyndale converted his jailors. “Such was the power of his doctrine, and the sincerity of his life, that during the time of his imprisonment (which endured a year and a half), it is said, he converted his keeper, the keeper’s daughter, and others of his household. Also the rest that were with Tyndale conversant in the castle, reported of him that if he were not a good Christian man, they could not tell whom to trust.”⁴

Delays continued during the exchange of letters in the summer and fall of 1535, and winter soon settled in on Tyndale. We have one precious letter he wrote from Vilvorde, which reveals the conditions he endured while the weary months wore on. He wrote it in the fall or early winter of 1535, obviously to someone in authority to ease his condition. Mozley renders the following translation from the original Latin:

“I believe, right worshipful, that you are not unaware of what may have been determined concerning me. Wherefore I beg your lordship, and that by the Lord Jesus, that if I am to remain here through the winter, you will request the commissary to have the kindness to send me, from the goods of mine which he has, a warmer cap; for I suffer greatly from cold in the head, and am afflicted by a perpetual catarrh [an inflammation of the nose and throat], which is much increased in this cell; a warmer coat also, for this which I have is very thin; a piece of cloth too to patch my leggings. My overcoat is worn out; my shirts are also worn out. He has a woollen shirt, if he will be good enough to send it. I have also with him leggings of thicker cloth to put on above; he has also warmer night caps. And I ask to be allowed to have a lamp in the evening; it is indeed wearisome sitting alone in the dark. But most of all I beg and beseech your clemency to be urgent with the commissary, that he will kindly permit me to have the Hebrew bible, Hebrew grammar, and Hebrew dictionary, that I may pass the time in that study. In return may you obtain what you most desire, so only that it be for the salvation of your soul. But if any other decision has been taken concerning me, to be carried out before winter, I will be patient, abiding the will of God, to the glory of the grace of my Lord Jesus Christ; whose Spirit (I pray) may ever direct your heart. Amen. W. Tindalus.”⁵

The letter is a treasure for its portrayal of humanity in trial. Its dignity, courage, and grace, with no hint of fawning or criticism, no spirit of bitterness or accusation—only resignation to the will of God—has few equals. Tyndale’s most earnest request was not for the warmer comforts that would prepare him for winter but for his Hebrew Bible, grammar, and dictionary so that he might continue his work and retain his skill with the language during his months of confinement. In like manner, Paul, while imprisoned in Rome, requested that Timothy bring him “the cloke that I left at Troas with Carpus, when thou comest, bring with thee, and the books, but especially the parchments” (2 Timothy 4:13).

We will never know if his requests were granted, but it is doubtful he received the Hebrew books that would allow him to continue the work for which he was a prisoner. He had an active mind, and the tedious days must have been as great a trial as the fear of his coming death.

Stephen Vaughan’s Last Appeal

One man remained who still felt that an attempt to free Tyndale might meet with success. Stephen Vaughan, who had earlier tried to convince Tyndale to return to England, wrote to Cromwell in April 1536, remarking, “If now you send me but your letter to the privy council, I could deliver Tyndale from the fire, so it come by time, for else it will be too late.”⁶

Perhaps Cromwell, an efficient and practical man who knew the ins and outs of international politics, realized what Vaughan could not—that by then Tyndale’s fate was sealed. At any rate, Brussels received no last-minute plea, and in August 1536 Tyndale was
sentenced. Had he been released and sent to England, what would have been his fate there? Certainly, he would not have been hailed as a heroic, persecuted Englishman saved from the clasp of the inquisitorial Catholic Church. Many of his views would not have been accepted, and Tyndale was never a man to back down. His death would have been certain, at the least, during the reign of Mary, Henry’s daughter. But by then, had he survived, he would have completed the Bible and perhaps a number of revisions.

Maybe it is better that Tyndale was martyred outside of England. It would have been a black spot on that nation to have executed not just the creator of her greatest literary contribution—perhaps her greatest gift of all—but the man who established an English prose that enabled a later genius like Shakespeare to flourish. When Tyndale wrote, English was spoken on an island nation by only a small percentage of the world’s population. Now hundreds of millions speak it. It is the mother tongue of two continents and the most well-known second language in the world. It is spoken from India to Hong Kong, from Alaska to New Zealand.

The “Unhallowing”

Because Tyndale was an ordained priest, religious authorities had to publicly degrade him before turning him over to secular powers for his rendezvous with the stake. In a letter dated August 12, 1536, John Hutton, one of Cromwell’s agents, reported, “So it is that as the tenth day of this present the procuror-general . . . certified me that William Tyndale is degraded, and condemned into the hands of the secular power, so that he is very like to suffer death this next week.”⁷

The degrading took place in Vilvorde and would have included a large number of people, certainly those involved in his examinations, such as Dufief, Masson, and Tapper. Other church authorities most certainly attended as well as leaders from the area. Degradation was also referred to as “unhallowing.” It was a public ceremony often held in a church or central square. Tyndale would have been led before the bishops dressed in priestly vestments. After he was forced to kneel, “his hands were scraped with a knife or a piece of glass, as a symbol of the loss of the anointing oil; the bread and the wine were placed in his hands and then taken away” as bishops cursed him with the words, “O cursed Judas, because you have abandoned the counsel of peace . . . we take away from you this cup of redemption.” Then “his vestments were stripped from him one by one, and he was clothed in the garments of a layman.” A final curse then followed: “We commit your soul to the devil.”⁸

Considering Tyndale’s attitude toward the clergy and the rites of the priesthood, an attitude he formed while living in England, it is doubtful the ceremony, though humiliating, troubled him. In his letter, Hutton says Tyndale’s execution was expected to follow immediately, but it was delayed for two months. Given Tyndale’s stature, foreign citizenship, and the fact that the English court had requested his release, authorities no doubt sought approval from the emperor. As the weeks passed relentlessly, the clergy likely attempted to break down Tyndale’s resistance and force him to recant so that his soul might be saved.

Like Paul of old, William had “fought a good fight” and “kept the faith.” He was “now ready to be offered” and would not waver at the last moment (2 Timothy 4:6—7).

“When His Hour Is Come, Necessity
Carrieth Us Hence”

Tyndale was not a relapsed heretic, so he was spared burning alive. His sentence was somewhat merciful in that he was to be
strangled before the fires were lit. With the final approvals finally in place, Tyndale was led from his cell on the morning of October 6, 1536. No eyewitness account of his execution has survived, but descriptions of others who suffered the same fate give us an accurate view of his death.

Tyndale was taken to Brussels, where his scaffold was cordoned off by barricades to keep back the crowds of the curious, the sympathetic, and the vengeful. Two large beams were set up in the form of a cross. Chains were fastened to the beams, and a hemp rope was passed through holes in the beams. Straw, bundles of sticks, and logs were piled around. Prominent seats were prepared for the procurer-general and other commissioners. When the officials were seated and all was ready, Tyndale was led forth through the parting crowds and past the barricades. He was given a moment to pray and recant if he so chose. His prayer over, he walked to the crossed beams, where the guards chained his feet and passed a chain and the hemp rope around his neck. The straw, sticks, and logs were then piled around him, and gunpowder was added to make the flames catch quickly and burn hotter.

The executioner stepped behind Tyndale, looked to the procurer-general, and waited for the signal. At this moment, Foxe reports, Tyndale cried, “Thus at the stake with a fervent zeal, and a loud voice, ‘Lord! open the king of England’s eyes.’”⁹ Even at the last, William Tyndale’s thoughts were on the ploughboys and the milkmaids whom he wanted so desperately to know God’s word. For them he now sacrificed his life.

The signal was given, and the executioner stepped forward, grabbed the hemp rope, and pulled it tight, silencing the voice and sending the mind that had produced such beauty to its eternal reward. When the procurer-general was sure Tyndale was dead, he handed a lighted torch to the executioner, who set fire to the wood. The great translator was soon enclosed in flame.

A few months later, Cromwell received a letter from his agent, John Hutton. It contained a brief note that read, “They speak much of the patient sufferance of Master Tyndale at the time of his execution.”¹⁰ Tyndale had once written to his dear friend John Frith as he approached his own inevitable death, “If you give yourself, cast yourself, yield yourself, commit yourself, wholly and only to your loving Father; then shall his power be in you, and make you strong. . . . There falleth not a hair, till his hour be come; and when his hour is come, necessity carrieth us hence, though we be not willing. But if we be willing, then have we a reward and thank.”¹¹ The pupil had followed the master’s council; now the master had been true to his own words.

History has erased the exact location of Tyndale’s martyrdom, but Queen Elizabeth’s tutor, Roger Ascham, rode through Brussels in 1550 and stopped for a moment of reflection at the place of Tyndale’s death. He speaks for all who would stop to ponder the sacrifices of one who enriched our lives so deeply. Writing of his experience a few months later, he said, “At the town’s end is a notable solemn place of execution, where worthy William Tyndale was unworthily put to death.”¹²

Notes

^1. Foxe, Acts and Monuments,5:128.

^2. Mozley, William Tyndale, 333.

^3. Foxe, Acts and Monuments,5:127.

^4. Ibid.

^5. Mozley, William Tyndale, 334—35.

^6. Ibid., 320.

^7. Ibid., 338.

^8. Ibid., 339; see also Moynahan, God’s Bestseller, 375—76.

^9. Foxe, Acts and Monuments,5:127.

^10. Mozley, William Tyndale, 342.

^11. Foxe, Acts and Monuments,5:132.

^12. Mozley, William Tyndale, 342 n.