John Trevisa and the Early English Bibles 1
By John Hooper
We can hardly imagine the translation of the Bible into English being a question for debate, but debate there was in the late 14th and early 15th centuries. This article, and the two that will follow it, takes us back to those times over 600 years ago. I hope readers will find them as interesting to read as I have found them to prepare.
Plantagenet
A Plantagenet is on the throne of England and the English language as we know it is only just emerging. The corrupt and all-pervasive Roman Catholic church has shrouded the Gospel in superstition and error and is itself divided to the point of electing two popes, while the precious Word of God is obscured in Latin. What a privileged people we are today! We have a language that is spoken and understood throughout the world and by which the Gospel can be preached, a complete and faithful translation of the Bible, and a corpus of fine Christian literature from across the centuries. We can too easily forget that “unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required….” (Luke 12:48).
Our subject, John Trevisa, is a man about whom little is known, and of that most has been gleaned from his own writings. He was born in the mid-14th century when the only portion of the Word of God likely to have been widely known by ordinary churchgoers was the Lord’s Prayer, and that in a language few would have understood. But by the end of his life change was afoot, and the first dim rays of Reformation light were awakening souls from the dark Medieval night.
To begin, however, we jump ahead to the year 1611 and the preface to the Authorised Version known as The Translators to the Reader. In this lengthy introduction Miles Smith, then Rector of Upton-on-Severn, in Worcestershire, includes a brief historical survey of those who had already translated the Scriptures into “the vulgar tongues.” One of those tongues is, of course, English, and foremost among those translators we might have expected to see mention of John Wycliffe and William Tyndale, but that is not the case. Instead, we read this:
Much about that time, even in our King Richard the second’s days, John Trevisa translated [the Scriptures] into English, and many English Bibles in written hand are yet to be seen with divers, translated as it is very probable, in that age.
To be the sole representative of Bible translators into English prior to the publication of the 1611 Authorised Version, one would think Trevisa must have been a man of some considerable note, but I think it is fair to say that, like me, few readers of the Quarterly will have heard of him. So who was he?
A Cornishman?
Such is the lack of documentary evidence that little is known for sure of Trevisa’s life, and nothing at all before he entered Oxford in 1362. Even so, it is thought most likely that he was born in Cornwall about the year 1342, during the long reign of Edward III.
I would like to think that Arthur Mee is correct when he says that Trevisa was born at Crocadon, a large medieval estate centred around the village of St. Mellion, just five miles up the road from where I write this. The Trevisa family were certainly living at Crocadon in the 17th century, but while a tradition has built up that John was born there, it is very unlikely to have been the case, as there is no evidence that the family lived there in the 14th century.
The best candidate for his birthplace is Trevisa or Trevessa (the name means ‘lower town’ in Cornish) in the parish of St. Enoder, a small village about five miles inland from Newquay. Being on the main route through Cornwall for pilgrims to St. Michael’s Mount, St. Enoder was once one of the wealthiest parishes in Cornwall and evidence exists of Trevisas living there from at least 1328.
John Grandisson, Bishop of Exeter from 1327 to his death in 1369, described Cornwall at this time as “a foreign land, adjoining England only along its eastern boundary, being surrounded on every side by the sea.” In a letter to friends he wrote,
I am not only set down in the ends of the earth, but in the very end of the ends thereof. My diocese, which embraces Devon and Cornwall, is … surrounded by seas so tempestuous that they can scarcely be called navigable. The people of Cornwall speak in a tongue which is unknown to the English, and only known to Bretons.
When Grandisson preached at St. Buryan, on one of his visits to the county, “The sermon was in Latin, the interpreter afterwards reciting the substance of it to the congregation in their Cornish tongue.” St. Enoder was so far from the influence of English that it is very likely Trevisa knew the Cornish language well and spoke it. There has even been speculation that many years later he translated the Bible into Cornish, but again there is no evidence to support it.
School
Where would the young John Trevisa have gone to school? For a boy from the depths of Cornwall to go to Oxford, as we know for sure that he did in 1362, Trevisa must have received a good education up to that point and been of exceptional ability. Lords of the Manor to which the Trevisa estate belonged were the Berkeley family of Berkeley Castle in Gloucestershire, and Thomas Lord Berkeley was known to provide education for promising boys. It would also have been quite in character for him to visit his Cornish properties, become acquainted with young and bright John Trevisa, and then sponsor him to be educated at the most important educational establishment in Cornwall, Glasney College.
In those days, schools were the creation of the church, and Glasney, situated in Penryn near Falmouth, was no exception. A monastic institution, its full name was the Collegiate Church of St. Thomas of Canterbury, also known as the Collegiate Church of Glasney. One historian has written, “It was the foundation here of the Collegiate Church of Glasney, in 1265, that gave Penryn its chief importance, and made it a place known all over England, and, indeed, Europe.” Financial support for the college came from 13 Cornish livings, one of which was the wealthy parish of St. Enoder. The closing of Glasney College in 1548, toward the end of the dissolution of the monasteries, was a trigger for the Prayer Book Rebellion the following year. There is little of the college remaining to be seen today.
As a boy, Trevisa would have experienced the coming of the Black Death to these shores. It arrived in Cornwall in March 1349, and he is sure to have known of the devastating effects this had on the population generally and the clergy in particular. The average yearly rate of replacement of clergy before 1349 had been 4 or 5, but in the year to March 1350, 85 new clergymen were needed in Cornwall to replace those who had succumbed. Figures like these were replicated throughout the country and those who filled the vacancies were often young, poorly educated and incompetent. The reputation of the clergy and the institution of the church went into a steep decline, helping to pave the way for reformation.
Oxford
We know for certain that at the age of about 20, John Trevisa went up to Exeter College, Oxford, in January 1362. The college had been founded in 1312 by the then Bishop of Exeter, Walter Stapledon, and was specifically for students from the diocese. David Fowler writes, “it is not difficult to imagine how a young man from a remote parish in Cornwall might hope, with the aid of such a family [as the Berkeleys], to rise eventually to a position of importance in 14th century England.”
Trevisa was to maintain links with Oxford for most of the next 25 years, with a further short period of residence in the mid-1390s. Trevisa obtained his Master of Arts degree in 1369 and, along with two other graduates from Exeter College, William Middleworth and Nicholas Hereford, became a fellow of Queen’s College to study for a doctorate in theology. The following year all three men were ordained together by the Bishop of London.
To obtain a doctorate in those days was a lengthy and rigorous process and it is unclear whether Trevisa completed his studies, though he was at Queen’s for long enough to do so. Fowler tells us, “… it would be a rare candidate who would complete the work in less than 10 years. Trevisa was at Queen’s from 1369 to 1387, a period of 18 years, but with some interruptions of uncertain duration.” Even with interruptions, 18 years is an exceptionally long time for someone with Trevisa’s intellect, especially if we cannot be sure that he gained his doctorate at the end. Was there something else that occupied his time?
John Wycliffe
It is surely no coincidence that also present in Queen’s College at the time was John Wycliffe. Although Wycliffe became Rector of Lutterworth, Leicestershire, in 1375, he continued to rent a room in the college from 1374 until late 1381. It has been noted that “as a fellow of Queen’s, Trevisa belonged to a society that had been infiltrated by scholars strongly under the influence of Wycliffe, himself perhaps one of these.” It is quite possible that Trevisa, like others such as Middleworth and Hereford, was drawn to Queen’s in the first place by the presence there of John Wycliffe.
These were politically volatile times. The turbulent reign of Richard II had begun in 1377 and in 1381 the Peasant’s Revolt took place, during which a mob captured and beheaded the Archbishop of Canterbury. The following summer, Oxford university was the setting for an inquisition by the new Archbishop, William Courteney. As Bishop of London, in 1377, Courteney had put Wycliffe on trial and now, five years later, he wanted to root out finally what he saw as the heretical views of the reformer and his followers. But he would not touch the man himself: Wycliffe had too many friends in high places.
Council
The archbishop convened a council of theologians known as the Blackfriars Council or Synod, meeting for its first session in the Blackfriars area of London. The largest single group of participants were friars, who were well known for their hostility to the teachings of Wycliffe. The feelings were mutual. There were four friaries in Oxford, the largest being the Franciscan, followed by the Dominican, Carmelite and Augustinian, but unlike monks, friars mixed in society. They lived among the people rather than in seclusion and David Fountain tells us that they “started well in the days of Francis of Assisi.” Quoting another writer, he describes them as “men preaching Christ with burning love and conviction,” but their influence for spiritual good quickly went into decline. By 1377 the friars had earned for themselves a reputation of being self-serving and hypocritical as they siphoned tithes and offerings away from the parish church. One can understand too, that being based in the community, with a mission to take the message of Christ to the people, tensions with the regular parish clergy were inevitable.
That first meeting of the Council was interrupted by an earth tremor, earning it the name of the Earthquake Council, but not to be deterred, Courteney continued with the day’s business. It concluded with the condemnation of 24 extracts from Wycliffe’s writings, 10 of which were judged heretical and the rest erroneous. On 1st July, the full Council sat for the last time and heard three of Wycliffe’s supporters, all of them Oxford scholars and all recanting of their reforming views. Nicholas Hereford, who stood fast, was excommunicated.
What did Trevisa make of all this, and where was he? We might wonder why he too was not subjected to the Council’s interrogation. It suggests that he was on the side-lines, but it is doubtful that he would have been a disinterested bystander. “If Trevisa was a witness to these proceedings, he must have watched in dismay as many a wise teacher fell, wounded by hypocrisy.”
Agreement
The extent of Trevisa’s agreement with Wycliffe and his evangelical doctrines is an interesting question. One writer tells us, “Trevisa was not a Wycliffite” while another says, “Trevisa was never accused of Lollardy, but, from his writings, my impression is that he was a Wycliffite.” So, which is correct? My own impression is that his writings put him toward the Wycliffite end of the spectrum. His rejection of the apocrypha and purgatory are Wycliffite, as is his condemnation of monks and friars. Years later he would translate a famous sermon against the friars preached before the pope in Avignon by the Archbishop of Armagh, Richard FitzRalph. Something particularly noteworthy about this sermon is its frequent use of Scripture. One writer has even described it as the emergence of “the appeal to sola scriptura,” later to be taken up by Wycliffe and the Lollards.
In those days anti-clericalism in general was widespread. The clergy were seen as being quick to collect their tithes but slow to go about their parish duties, so one could resent and criticise the clergy without necessarily being thought of as pro-Wycliffe. Perhaps this enabled Trevisa to stay “under the radar,” so to speak, and work undisturbed. If so, it tells us as much about Wycliffe as it does about Trevisa. It tells us that Wycliffe had friends and colleagues with whom he was able to work, and who were happy to work with him, who did not necessarily share all his views. Where they did agree, however, was on the need for an English Bible.
The need for an English Bible
England was a land of three languages. For much of the 1300s the grammar schools had not taught English because since the Norman Conquest the policy had been to promote Norman French, hence that became the language of government, the law and English society. Before Geoffrey Chaucer (1340-1400), almost Trevisa’s exact contemporary, there was little written English, but in the latter years of the 14th century a change was taking place. In 1385 Trevisa was able to report that “now they learn no French.” The language of the common people had always been English, but there were wide differences in the way the language was spoken across the country, and spelling would not be standardized until the 16th century. Chaucer referred to the “so great diversity in English and in the writing of our tongue.” Trevisa commented that even between London and Kent there was such variation in spoken English that a man from one could not understand what a man from the other was talking about! As the 14th century wore on, the use of French declined irreversibly and English became more accepted, but even so, 100 years after Trevisa and Chaucer, in the days of the printer William Caxton, English was still a “developing and, in many respects immature” language. Anyone considering a major translation project would have been faced with significant linguistic challenges.
Latin
The last of the three languages spoken was Latin. This was the language of the church and notably of the Bible itself in the version we know as the Vulgate, translated from the original Hebrew and Greek largely by Jerome in the 4th century. For hundreds of years, church services were dominated by a language that was known only to the well-educated few. The only religious texts the laity were likely to know by heart were the Paternoster (now called the Lord’s Prayer), the Creed and the Ave Maria, but many would not have understood the meaning of the Latin words. Latin created a barrier between clergy and laity every bit as real as the rood screen between the chancel and the nave in their parish churches. Even worse, it created a barrier between the people and the Gospel. Except for some clergy in isolated parts of the country who themselves struggled to understand the liturgy they were reading, Latin created a privileged clerical class and controlling power that the church strove hard to protect, but its days were numbered.
In earlier Medieval times being literate had meant the ability to read and understand Latin, and that required a grammar school education. It also meant that, as a rule of thumb, literate was synonymous with “clergy,” and illiterate with “laity,” but by 1300 changes were taking place which meant that that old guide was no longer reliable, especially in towns and among those who could afford books. Psalters and simple prayer books were being used devotionally in church and to teach children to read, while among the wealthier classes decorated books of “Hours” had become popular. Most of these books were in Latin but a few were being produced in English.
English
Around the early 1380s moves were already being made to introduce more English into church services, which centred on the mass. For example, John Mirk, an Augustinian canon active in the Shrewsbury area, a man who was entirely “orthodox” in the eyes of the church and opposed to Wycliffe and his followers, nevertheless wrote in English a collection of sermons to help clergy with their preaching, together with a book of Instructions for Parish Priests. This is what Mirk had to say about prayers: “It is much more speedful and meritful to you to say your Paternoster in English than in Latin as you do, for when you speak in English, then you know and understand well what you say, and so, by your understanding, you have liking and devotion for to say it.”
With Trevisa and others translating Latin texts into English and an increasing number of lay people able to read them, the argument for translating the Bible itself into English was now overwhelming. The barrier of Latin had to be broken down. Concerning the Bible, we have these words from the pen of John Trevisa himself:
… it may not be told in English what the Latin is to mean without translation out of Latin into English. Then it needeth to have an English translation; and for to keep it in mind that it be not forgotten, it is better that such a translation be made and written than said and not written.
This is taken from Trevisa’s Dialogue between a Lord and a Clerk upon Translation, completed in 1387. It comprises a strident defence not only of English translation of the Scriptures in principle but also of his own role as a translator. We will turn to this work again in a later instalment.
Reference has been made to the diversity of the English language and the difficulty it presented for someone translating the Bible out of Latin, but there was a greater problem still and that was the opposition of the church hierarchy. It was feared that the laity would understand the Gospel in English better than the clergy understood it in Latin, but there was an element of hypocrisy in this resistance because many people groups of Europe already had a Bible in their own language. Indeed, one of the arguments made at the time was that if French people living in London were able to have a Bible in French, why could not the English in the same city have a Bible in English? In God’s perfect timing, the hour for an English Bible had arrived.