Mercy, mercy, mercy!
Remembering Adrian Fortescue on his feast day
My newest book, Face to Face: A Novel of the Reformation, the sequel to Broken Bonds, is now available for pre-order for delivery on November 11.
I come to you on a special day this week, for July 9 is the feast day of Blessed Adrian Fortescue, one of the English Martyrs. It is possible I have already caused confusion with that sentence. Allow me to translate…
“Blessed” is a title given in the Roman Catholic Church to individuals who have been beatified but not canonized. The “English Martyrs” are a group of individuals loyal to Rome who were executed during the English Reformation. This means that when the English monarchs asserted themselves as supreme governors of the Church of England and enacted religious reforms, these men and women objected and were therefore convicted of treason and executed.
You may wonder why I am drawing your attention to Adrian Fortescue. After all, he is not the most famous of the English Martyrs. Also, I am a Protestant of the Anglican-leaning variety, and while I am not opposed to the commemoration of saints, it is strange that I should single out someone who opposed the English Reformation.
In fact, I am writing about Adrian Fortescue because he is one of my ancestors. I have devoted significant time to genealogical research over the years and received a bit of a shock when I learned we had a beatified member of the family. Sure, if you go back far enough, everybody can find some holy person in their lineage, but the sixteenth century is comparatively recent in genealogical history, making the connection stronger.
Much is still unknown about the life of Adrian Fortescue, including the exact reasons he was charged with treason, but the evidence suggests he was opposed to King Henry VIII’s religious reforms. Here is what I wrote about Adrian back in 2016, with a couple edits for accuracy…
Sir Adrian Fortescue
Born: About 1476
Executed: 10 July 1539 at Tower Hill, London
Sir Adrian holds the distinction of being the last confirmed Catholic in my family line.1 I am sure it would have pained him to know that his execution, on account of which he is declared a “blessed” by Catholics, was to mark the beginning of half a millennium of Protestant heresy among his descendants. Such is life, Adrian. The religious struggle by which he met his end was to be the end of far too many lives in England in the coming decades.
Adrian Fortescue had a Boleyn connection, being a somewhat distant cousin of the famous Anne. This no doubt helped him for a while, and in the earlier years of King Henry VIII’s reign, he attended at many royal occasions and remained in good standing. Particularly interesting considering his later fate is that following the fall of Cardinal Wolsey, the adviser to King Henry VIII who failed to gain his master a divorce, Sir Adrian received some of the cardinal’s confiscated possessions. He was also in attendance for Anne Boleyn’s coronation as queen of England and was informed by special messenger of the birth of Princess Elizabeth. Thus, we can safely say that Adrian did not object to the king’s divorce and remarriage, at least not enough to make a fuss about it.
In 1532, Adrian had become a knight of Malta, a Catholic religious order, a sign of personal piety. This order was dissolved two years later in the early days of the English Reformation. I have it from one source that upon the death of Adrian’s first wife, he had her buried in a favorite monastery. When King Henry VIII took steps to dissolve the monasteries, Sir Adrian was forced to pay to have his wife reinterred. He also devoted a substantial amount of money to have Masses said on behalf of her departed soul. These are not the type of steps likely to be taken by a Protestant sympathizer, and the episode in which his beloved wife’s bones were dug up could not have instilled positive feelings about the religious reforms taking place in England at this time.
In the year 1534, he was placed under arrest and held for questioning, but no charges were ultimately brought against him. This was around the time that the king was requiring leading figures in the kingdom to take the Oath of Supremacy, accepting him as head of the Church in England. Sir Adrian was not asked to sign this oath, but he was likely suspected of sympathizing with those who refused.
The most famous Catholic holdouts under King Henry VIII, Bishop John Fisher and Sir Thomas More, were executed the following year. The Dissolution of the Monasteries was proceeding apace. Yet, Anne Boleyn’s fall from grace and execution in 1536 brought a change of mood in the country, and it was not until 1539 that Adrian was arrested for the second time. Interestingly, a researcher found one of his books in which was attached a standard blessing for King Henry VIII and his new wife, Queen Jane Seymour. Adrian had personally crossed out a portion that referred to the king as the Supreme Head of the Church. We thus have a clear enough idea of his personal views.
By 1539, Parliament had passed a law that made it far easier to execute problem individuals without the usual judicial proceedings. It was around this time that King Henry VIII went after the members of the Catholic Pole family, who were seen by some as rival claimants to the throne through their descent from the Plantagenets. The Poles may well have been conspiring against the king, but even if they were not, their very existence was a threat – those who opposed the religious changes had someone else to rally around.
In short, the mood did not favor anyone with “popish” inclinations, and it was due to this mood that Sir Adrian met his end. He was beheaded on or around July 10 of that year. I cannot say how long the Fortescue family maintained his Catholic beliefs: they would have been convenient under the reign of Queen Mary I, but decidedly not so under her Protestant successor, Elizabeth I. Adrian’s daughter Elizabeth married into the Bromley family, and many years later, one of her American descendants gave birth to me.
Of all the ancestors I have discovered, Adrian Fortescue has a particular impact on me. He died in defense of religious principles that I myself do not follow. One is almost tempted to say that he died in vain, if the goal of his “martyrdom” was to encourage England to be faithful to Rome once again. To be sure, if Sir Adrian’s true crime was that he would not accept the king as head of the Church, then there are many Protestants today who would sympathize with that position.
But it was not just about who called the shots: it was about the daily religious experiences of people throughout England, the doctrines that would be imposed, the monasteries that would be closed, the beginning of a Reformation that would lead to changes no one could foresee at the time. Whether Adrian’s crisis of conscience was more about doctrine or political realities, he did not deserve to die. Then again, neither did many Protestants who were killed in this century. In conclusion, I have a respect for Sir Adrian, even if his views were different than mine. He stood by his beliefs even when it cost him everything. There is honor in that.
Almost a decade after I wrote those words, I still heartily agree with the conclusion. If anything, I am more sympathetic to Adrian Fortescue, having learned further details about the English Reformation. It is a fact universally acknowledged that people who claim to be good Christians are not always good Christians. The people who drove the English Reformation may have had some doctrinal opinions with which I agree, but that does not mean they were people of virtue. Of course, a lack of virtue means that doctrine has not really “sunk in”: it has become a weapon to wield against enemies rather than a measuring stick to apply to ourselves.
Protestants and Catholics alike perished in England in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries at the hands of unjust rulers. What is particularly strange is that the Roman Catholics were sometimes executed for championing what would later come to be associated with Protestantism: the separation of church and state. That makes sixteenth century England difficult to evaluate.
As a Protestant, I am not going to defend all of monasticism as it existed in medieval England. However, I do not believe the government had the right to seize all the religious houses in England, strip them for parts, and sell the land off to the nearest noble family. Governments have no right to dictate doctrine for the Church or to interfere with the Church’s internal governance. I can sympathize with Roman Catholics who died defending those positions, even while I acknowledge that the conspirators working with Guy Fawkes fully deserved the punishments they received.
Today, I honor Adrian Fortescue for living a life of principle in which he strove to follow Jesus Christ. He lived in an era when there were few good options if a man wanted to keep himself pure. To defy the king or to obey him? Both choices were hateful in their own way. I think we can take a lesson from Adrian for living in troubled times: cling first and foremost to the virtues of faith, hope, and love. If we are motivated by true Christian love, then even if we err, I suspect we are more in line with the will of the Lord. We can never hope in our own perfection, but only the mercy of God.
One of the chief architects of the English Reformation, Thomas Cromwell, ended his life begging for “mercy, mercy, mercy” from King Henry VIII.2 I do not expect mercy from the rulers of this world, but I pray daily to the God of heaven, “Mercy, mercy, mercy!” Yes, Lord have mercy on me, a sinner.
PUBLISHED ELSEWHERE:
I discussed “Law and Gospel in Jane Eyre” on the Outside Ourselves podcast.
In the years since I wrote this, I discovered some Catholics in the German portion of my family tree.
https://kclaidenyardley.com/2024/12/15/mercy-mercy-mercy-cromwells-letter/
What a beautiful and fascinating reflection! Thank you for sharing!
I really enjoyed reading this! (Sincerely, a Catholic)