The strength of the late medieval Church is to be looked for not in practices, structures or

even creeds, but in people. To propose a general premise: in the process of ‘democratisation’ 1

from Conversion to Reformation. This involved the Church responding to the needs of the

people. By testing professed belief with an appropriate balance of scepticism and humility, this

essay will attempt to unravel the forces that finally tore the Church away from Rome.

The challenge confronting historians of this period is the lack of any authoritative

framework for charting continuity and change in the Church. Words such as ‘popular’

immediately set up a false dichotomy that ignores the tangled relationships between ‘official’

and ‘lay’ practices. Another label increasingly devoid of meaning is ‘piety’.2 On the one hand,

‘religious’3 participation peaked in late medieval England, an estimated two-thirds of parish

churches underwent substantial rebuilding in the 150 years before the ‘reformation’4, which can

only be taken as an indicator of enthusiasm. Simultaneously, however, the existence of apostasy

cloaked in piety is revealed in one exceptional testimony from a collection of Hull wills. Alone

amongst this wealthy trading town, John Fitlying poured scorn on the funerary ostentations of his

contemporaries and empowered his executor to provide only that necessary for the praise of God

– avoiding any appearances of vainglory. He invoked the apostle’s words - ‘Conform not to the

world’ – and divided his monetary bequests amongst the poor and the sick.5 His attitude

betrayed for an institution that was encrusted with wealth – buildings gilded insides, whilst

peoples starved outside. In the upper echelons of the Church, meanwhile, ‘hierarchy’ is a

misleading concept. The monarchical papal system was built upon acquiescence. By this

period, its most significant authority was the power of dispensation. For England, in particular,

the evidence depicts an extraordinarily convenient institution where the line of least resistance

meant granting petitions.6 Beneath the Pope, the pyramidal structure reached downwards to the

parishes. The ‘organisation’, nevertheless, seems to have ossified by 1300, becoming unable 1 Eamon Duffy The Stripping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England 1400-1580 (1992) p. 2652 Pietas in its original Greek usage meant the complex of obligations that a good man feels bind him to past, present and future (Aenid); or simply godliness (the Bible) 3 i.e. an institution that encourages human beings to satisfy that nub of restlessness inside each of us by self-help 4 Andrew Roach ‘Popular Religion: Saints and Pilgrimages’ Lecture 9/03/20045 Peter Heath ‘Urban Piety in the Later Middle Ages: the Evidence of Hull Wills’; R.B. Dobson ed. Church, Politics and Patronage in 15th Century (1984) pp. 187-8 6 John A.F Thomson ‘The Well of Grace: Englishmen and Rome in the Fifteenth Century’; Dobson (1984)

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even to respond to fluctuating population level.7 The question’s framing, then, points towards a

fundamentally flawed top-down versus bottoms-up approach to history. Consequently, whilst

piety, hierarchy and organisation are interwoven into the story, a new methodology is required to

analyse medieval Church history.

One of the defining dynamics of the medieval Church in England is the incessant

assimilation of people into this evolving religion. The process of ‘democratisation’ changed the

Church of Bede into that of Henry VIII. Its pace was determined by the fluctuating missionary

impetus of medieval Catholicism and the invariable restlessness8 of the human spirit. Arguably,

the pivotal movement was the Fourth Lateran Council in 12159. This represented the high point

of papal authority with legislation establishing the ‘cure of all souls’ as the priority. An indicator

of the inherent strength of the organisation is given by the timeframe within which this was

translated into action. In England, Archbishop Pecham used the Council of Lambeth (1281) to

produce the first schema for instruction in the Catholic faith specifically tailored to the lay,

English audience. One of the last pre-Reformation products of this catechetical programme is

Richard Whytford’s A Werke for Householders (1530). Whilst emphasising the responsibility of

parents in basic Christian teaching, the exposition incorporates proverbs, personalized exempla

and even engages with opposing arguments.10 Amongst the various responses, the ‘laity’ started

to question the ‘officials’. For example, Lorenzo Valla writing about 1441, spoke for many in

objecting to the use of ‘religious’ to apply only to those taking vows as being, by this point, a

hollow boast.11 ‘Democratisation’, therefore, is applicable to the late medieval Church, and

benefits by focusing on people and their actual needs.

As the most open amongst very few institutions capable of satisfying aspirations, the

Church courted ‘abuse’ in its stance. Moreover, due to the rarity of authoritative preaching on

doctrine and theology, there was little direction on what should be interpreted for ‘Christian’

purposes. Even in one practice, the observer(s) could extract multiple meanings. One legacy

7 R.N Swanson Religion and Devotion in Europe, c. 1215-c. 1515 (1995) p. 478 the human need to do something with our thoughts and to pursue goals (i.e. the life of St Christina of Markyate) 9 F. Donald Logan A History of the Church in the Middle Ages (2002) pp. 195-20110 Duffy (1992) p. 8711 Logan (2002) p. 341

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from paganism not eradicated, in fact even supported, by the Church was belief in the

supernatural. Catholic baptismal rites, for example, repeatedly emphasised the objective power

of ‘holy’ words, gestures or things: “do not dare to violate, o cursed devil, this sign of the holy

Cross + which we do now make on his forehead.”12 The structure of parishes, furthermore,

enabled religious devotion to overlap with civic pride. In Tudor York during the Corpus Christi

festival, it was required, “for the honour of god and worship of this Citie”13, that citizens whose

houses lined the procession’s route should display their best bed hangings. Another complex of

demand was satisfied through the notion of caritas, communicated through the exposition of

Jesus Christ’s Great Commandment14. This proscription was backed-up by the fear of purgatory

and the tantalising expectation of heaven. In practice, “the cure of all souls” evolved a

mechanism for regulating parochial relationships. Individuals were accountable both to the

priest and to one another, through the gilds, for their behaviour. Moreover, the clergy, the

Church’s most visible representatives, were answerable to the people. Instead of undermining

the system, ‘anticlericalism’ was, in one sense, an extension. When, therefore, the burgesses of

Saltash complained about their vicar, they recognised the channel of disciplinary authority, the

dean of Windsor, and the means of exerting pressure, the withholding of tithes and oblations.15

Although the overall goal of oversight was amendment, it inculcated a dangerous truth: all

humanity is prone to sin. Even popes made no claim to infallibility – or if they did soon let it

slide.16 Once accepted, the principle slowly engendered scepticism when evaluating both people

and structures. The Church was increasingly exposed as a corrupt institution in need of reform.

Consequently, in the variety of the above, and their multiple strands of meaning, a sense of this

social institution’s breadth is captured and the impetus for these developments is revealed as ever

more complicated.

12 Duffy (1992) pp. 280-113 source cited in Duffy (1992) p. 44 14 “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: Love your neighbour as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.” (Mark 12:30-31)15 Windsor, St George’s Chapel archives, XI.K.6; R.N Swanson Catholic England (1993) p. 267 16 Swanson (1995) p. 44

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Eamon Duffy, commenting on the significance of the Mass, posits the conclusion that the

objects of religion ‘belonged more to some than to others’17. The theory can be extended to

reflect upon the interest groups wielding power in society. As Duffy frequently implies, the

parish hierarchy was becoming increasingly significant, evinced by the ‘laity’ assuming

proprietary control over the Church, in the oft-quoted contemporary phrase, “taking one’s

rights”. Unsurprisingly frequent quarrels erupted over precedence, even before the altar. John

Browne of Essex was reported on All Saints Day 1522 to have smashed the paxbred over the

head of cleric Richard Pond, enraged because the pax was first offered to Francis Hamden,

despite previous warnings.18 Another ‘user’ of the Church was the monarchy. During the

Hundred Years’ War, the political authorities exploited its communication potential, encouraging

frequent prayers and processions to stir-up patriotism. One institution, however, that failed to

significantly impact the Church during this period was the university. Indeed, between Wyclif

and Luther there is the waning of, what historian Jean-Philippe Genet describes as, “political

theology”: conflict settled into consensus.19 Although merely sketched out by historians of this

period, the trend-setting impact of government, class and money is discernable in the evidence

unearthed thus far and accords with the unfolding dynamics of the ‘reformation’.

It is possible, then, to note beneath the seemingly ‘tranquil’ surface of late medieval

religion several tensions. Firstly, the end of the Church’s monopoly of learning, i.e. the

production and possession of written discourse, was one necessary precondition for a successful

challenge to the dominant ideology. The appearance of the Kalender of Shepherds (1503)20, a

successful venture by commercial publishers, caused consternation even at the time by including,

besides the official education programme of the Church, material on astrology and

prognostication. Despite the efforts of the clergy and torrents of paper discharged from the

presses, the text became a staple of the time. To compound the problem, the lack of any one

authority to maintain the rules allowed socially acceptable religious practices to proliferate.

17 Duffy (1992) p. 11618 source cited in Duffy (1992) p. 127 19 Jean-Phillipe Genet ‘Ecclesiastical and Political Theory in Late Medieval England: the End of Monopoly’; Dobson (1984) p. 33. Genet notes the exception: debate clustered around evangelical poverty20 Modern reprint ed. H Oskar Sommer, The Kalender of Shepherdes (1892); for analysis see Duffy (1992) pp. 82-4

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Duffy’s ‘devotional fads’ include: Rogationtide processions, chantry building extensions and

new masses, such as the Pope trental. The pressing sources of danger, nevertheless, were the

religious specialists amongst the ‘gentry’. Colin Richmond, somewhat misleadingly, defines this

trend as a class-specific ‘privatisation’. He notes, however, another precursor of change: for

‘piety’ to move from active belief to disposable custom.21 In this context, another exceptional

case amongst the Hull wills, Richard Russell in 1445 offering his soul “into the hands of Jesus

Christ”22, reveals the failure of the Church to disseminate its message. Instead, individuals

constructed their own ‘religiosities’. The ultimate consequence of this ‘spiritual market’23 was,

of course, the continual danger of an alternative arising and seeking to supplant the Catholic

Church by appealing to a specific group of powerful people. This was fulfilled in Henry VIII’s

coup d’etat. Hence, the Church’s authority was systematically challenged on many fronts as, to

simplify somewhat, first its orthodoxy, then its community and finally its hierarchy cracked

under pressure.

In conclusion, England from Conversion to Reformation was in many ways defined by the

Church. The general trend discernable thus far is the growing accessibility of a heavily restricted

religion from monasteries sponsored by the elites to churches shaped by the parishioners.

Driving forward this movement were the officials seeking to reform the laity and the people

themselves pressing for increased involvement. In shifting its priority from avoiding contact

with the world’s contamination to becoming curate of souls, the Church was overcome by the

very forces it once fought. This is illustrated in the descent of the clergy: from celebrant of

remote rites, to pastoral minister, to parish employee.24 When the crash came, the uneven pace

of reforming church practices gives some insights into the source of change, evinced in the pith

of religion retained. Ultimately, however, we acknowledge how little of such matters is revealed

to man.

21 Colin Richmond ‘Religion and the Fifteenth-Century English Gentleman’; Dobson (1984) pp. 196-8; the original distinction is attributed to Aristotle22 Dobson (1984) p. 21423 Swanson (1995) p. 316 notes how the Church was bound by the constraints of supply and demand24 ibid. p. 341

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Oh, the depths of the riches and the wisdom and knowledge of God!

How inscrutable his judgements, and his paths beyond tracing out!

“Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counsellor?”

“Who has ever given to God, that God should repay him?”

For from him and through him and to him are all things.

To him be the glory for ever! Amen. (Romans 11:33-36)

Bibliography

R.B. Dobson ed. Church, Politics and Patronage in 15th Century (1984)

Eamon Duffy, The Stripping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England 1400-1580 (1992)

F. Donald Logan, A History of the Church in the Middle Ages (2002)

Andrew Roach, ‘Popular Religion: Saints and Pilgrimages’ Lecture 9/03/2004

R.N Swanson, Religion and Devotion in Europe, c. 1215-c. 1515 (1995)

R.N Swanson, Catholic England (1993)

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