The Princess Mary ascended the throne in July, 1553. She inherited from her mother, Catherine of Arragon, a determined hatred of the Protestant religion, and a strong attachment to the Roman Catholic faith. Her first acts were to repeal the laws of her father and brother in favor of Reform and against the pope and popish worship. Gardiner and Bonner were released from the Tower, and the leaders of the Reformation-Cranmer, Hooper, Coverdale, Rogers, and others-were sent to occupy their vacant prisons. Meanwhile cardinal Pole arrived from Italy, with full powers from the pope to receive the kingdom of England into the Roman pale. Persecution commenced, and all men apprehended a terrible storm. "A thousand of the Reformers," says Marsden, "including five bishops, many noblemen, fifty dignitaries of the church, and others whose position in society might render them obnoxious, hurried their departure, and fled abroad-chiefly to Geneva, Basle, and Zurich, where the Reformed religion was now established." The year 1555 has been termed the one of burning and blood.
Rogers, vicar of St. Sepulcher's who had been the associate of Tyndale and Coverdale in the translation of the scriptures, was the first to suffer. As he was being led to Smithfield, he saw his wife in the crowd waiting to see him. She had an infant in her arms, and ten children around her. He could only bid them all farewell with a look of faith and love. A pardon was offered him when he reached the fagots if he would recant. "That which I have preached," he said firmly, "will I seal with my blood." "Thou art a heretic," said the sheriff. "That shall be known at the last day," responded the martyr. The torch was applied, the flames rose around him, and with hands raised to heaven he bore with perfect calmness the torture until they dropped into the fire. So died John Rogers, the protomartyr of the Marian persecution.
Hooper, late bishop of Gloucester, was burnt alive in front of his own cathedral. It was a market day, and a crowd of not less than seven thousand had assembled to witness the last moments of one so greatly beloved. His enemies, fearing the power of his eloquence, forbade him to speak, and threatened if he did to cut out his tongue. But it is said that the meekness, the more than usual serenity of his countenance, and the courage with which he endured his prolonged and awful sufferings, bore nobler testimony to his cause than any words he could have uttered. He was much in prayer, and probably the greater part of the seven thousand were in tears. "To say nothing of his piety," says another historian, "and the cause for which he suffered, he was a noble specimen of the true English character; a man of transparent honesty, of dauntless courage, of unshaken constancy, and of warm affections and a loving heart." His last words were, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Within a few days after Hooper's death, Saunders was burnt at Coventry; Dr. Taylor at Hadleigh, in Suffolk; Ferrar, bishop of St. David's, at Carmarthen, Wales. All these were clergymen.
Fires were thus kindled in all parts of England in order to strike a wider terror into the hearts of the people, and deter them by these terrible examples from siding with the Reformers. But they had just the opposite effect. Men could easily contrast the mild treatment of the papists under the reign of Edward, and the cruelties practiced on innocent men under the reign of Mary. Barbarous as the nation then was, and educationally Catholic, it was shocked beyond measure with the severities of the court of Mary; especially when the council issued an order to the sheriffs of the different counties to exact a promise from the martyrs to make no speeches at the stake-otherwise to cut out their tongues. Thus were kindred and friends deprived of the last and sacred words of the dying. Even the most rigid papists pretended to be ashamed of these savage proceedings when they saw their effect upon the nation. Undying hatred of the church which encouraged such atrocities took the place of superstitious reverence. The hearts of the people by thousands and tens of thousands were moved by sympathy to take part with the oppressed. In the summer of this year of horrors, Bradford, prebendary of St. Paul's, was burnt at Smithfield, together with an apprentice, a lad of nineteen; and many others whom we cannot name. But we must briefly notice three familiar and honored names in the martyrology of England.