The Stripping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England, 1400-1580 Paperback – May 10, 2005

"The Stripping of the Altars", Eamon Duffy's erudite, meticulous yet flowing analysis of what he refers to as "traditional religion" in England in the years from 1400 to 1580 is a masterpiece of scholarship and also of presentation. Professor of the History of Christianity at Cambridge University, he states in his preface to the second edition (the book was originally published in 1992) that his intentions were academic and that he was himself surprised to find that it developed an audience among the general public. He should not have been so shocked. Leavened with anecdotes, storytelling, humor and engaging descriptions of the thoughts, customs and nature of life in those times, his work, while painstaking -- painfully so at times -- reads comfortably and absorbingly throughout most of its highly approachable 593 pages (plus bibliography and index).Duffy's thesis is that, contrary to what has been taught and generally believed about the Protestant Reformation in England, satisfaction with the Roman Catholic "traditional" religion, its fêtes, rituals and observances was almost universal at the time of the Reformation and that the Reformation, itself, was imposed upon the people by royal and civil authority, not popular will. Early on and fairly enough, Duffy describes his irish Catholic background, yet while that outlook must be constantly borne in mind while reading his book, the fact is that he makes a convincing case.He does so systematically, painting the nature of English existence at the time, largely rural, generally peaceful in the wake of the Hundred Year's War, isolated, provincial and soaked in pervasive religiosity. Suggesting that the abuses, indulgences and corruption of the Continental church had few echoes in England, Duffy works through the nature of categories of traditional practice -- liturgy, catechesis, mass, gild, prayers, primers (in preference to Bible study), and the sometimes cultish fixations on death and purgatory -- and in doing so creates an image of an idyllic world, cohesive, communal and warmly and constantly involved with its faith. In the process he uses plentiful plates and illustrations that correlate with specifics in the text and which, themselves, are a pleasure to review.Voices around Henry VIII, who despite his quarrels with the papacy remained ambivalent about his religious identification, radicalized his policies in the persons of ranting Hugh Latimer and Machiavellian Thomas Cromwell and Thomas Cranmer, culminating in 1533 in the ultimate break with the Roman church and, in the name of removing idolatrous objects, the subsequent eponymous stripping of the altars, art, and statuary of the churches and the destruction of abbeys and monasteries, a sad price to pay for the concepts of religious individualism and personal responsibility for salvation.The reaction of the traditionalists was varied. Some resisted while others went underground or accommodated and accepted the new authority; however, given the opportunity, Duffy emphasizes, the "vast majority" of the people quickly reverted to traditional religion after the deaths of Henry in 1547 and of the young King Edward VI in 1553 and the brief accession to the throne of Catholic Mary Tudor. As the reign of Elizabeth I began in 1558 and the Protestant Church of England was reinstated, many quickly changed sides of the aisle again, but, Duffy asserts, the ultimate defeat of the traditionalists was the result only of lengthy systematic repression, an effort that finally subverted the true will of the people. (There is some irony in the fact that in two brief paragraphs Duffy passes over, almost with a "boys will be boys" flippancy, the burnings of "heretics" under the Marian regime.)So be it. Duffy's is an interesting concept. Yet questions remain: Why if the dedication to traditional religion was so deep, did it virtually disappear in well less than a century as a significant factor in English life? Were the Protestant propagandists that convincing or their "draconian" measures that intimidating? To what extent was the acceptance of traditional religion itself, as opposed to deep faith, an accommodation to existing authority, its methods and its mores, and a reflection of humanity's characteristic inclination to adapt to surroundings and make the joyful best of them?Those last are comments, not criticisms, issues that should not detract from appreciation of this work. "The Stripping of the Altars" is a magnificent book.

Duffy's "Stripping of the Altars" doesn't purport to be a comprehensive history of the Reformation. Rather, he offers a corrective to previously one-sided histories. Histories of the Protestant Reformation generally begin with a chapter on the corruption of the late medieval Catholic Church. Duffy, on the other hand, devotes most of his book to the vitality and popularity of late medieval Catholicism in England. Duffy effectively refutes the idea that Catholicism in England was decadent, unpopular, and superstitious (the charge of Protestant reformers and sometimes repeated by historians). On the contrary, the cult of Mary and the Saints was enormously popular and meaningful to everyday parishioners, and its demise was an enormous loss for English culture. The majority of his book is NOT the typical revisionary polemic, but rather detailed history based on a wealth of specific examples, making his history a valuable resource for all historians.He also argues, more controversially, that Protestant reform was forced upon England by a small number of intolerant reformers. The only real weakness in his work is a failure to consider seriously the Protestant point of view, and the popular nature of Protestant reform. If Catholicism was popular, there is no contradiction to claim that reform was popular also. Duffy tends to paint the reformers as irrational destroyers of traditional Christianity.If we set aside his sometimes one-sided perspective, this work stands as an effective corrective to previous histories. The truth of the reformation, however, stands somewhere in-between the two extremes.

This is a very important work, recently revised. Duffy was among the first to argue for a coherency and vitality to pre-Reformation English religion. His vast use of primary sources (the bibliography for each of the 17 chapters typically contains 60 to 80 references!) generally reinforces his argument. This is not a theological work, and Duffy carefully avoids stating any judgement as to whether or not the beliefs and practices he describes were orthodox by any standard other than that of received popular tradition.Duffy makes no real attempt to offer explanations for the eventual success of the Reformation. Reading through this book, I am more amazed than ever that the Reformation ever succeeded in England. Duffy shows how Cromwell, Cranmer and their few allies were fighting an uphill battle in which even Henry VIII seemed a somewhat reluctant participant.The vast reference and quotation of primary sources makes this a somewhat lengthy read. I listened to it in audio format while working on plumbing and splitting firewood. I would highly recommend this option!

Be forewarned - even the most avid students of the Tudor era will find that many of their notions are challenged. The work is overwhelming in its intriguing detail, fleshing out the entire picture of English medieval devotion as well as social conditions, and the impact of certain negative aspects of the Reformation that many of us would prefer not to consider. Challenging and enriching as a work of history, the Stripping of the Altars also will cause the devout to ponder many a point. This is no "light read" - but the time and attention it takes to get through this actually quite readable work will not be stressful, because it is so totally engrossing. Put this on the shelf of anyone who wishes to fulfil the Anglican exhortation to have an inquiring mind.

As a work of historical scholarship the book deserves 5 stars but in so far as it is a work of religious history theological reservations mean that, at least for me, it deserves only 3 stars. Should this seem unduly harsh or vindictive I will seek to explain why.This book is introduced on its cover as portraying the church of late medieval Catholicism as “a strong and vigorous tradition, and that the Reformation represented a violent rupture from a popular and theologically respectable religious system.” This is clearly the perspective from which the book is written and its underlying paradigm. But, even before we get into the book, is any of this true? And was “the shift to Protestantism was at first the work of a small minority”?(xxxii) I find it remarkable that no mention is made either of the authors of the medieval "religious system" – Aquinas and the scholastics – let alone those who challenged it with increasing potency such as Ockham (1285-1347) and Wycliffe (1330-1384: at least only indirectly in relation to the Lollards), and the growing ferment of ‘unorthodox’ ideas in the fourteenth and fifteenth century such as the Conciliar movement questioning the central authority of the Church from within the Church and at the highest level. Clearly there were competing understandings of the nature of the Church that questioned the enforced ‘religious system’.Duffy’s defence is that this is a study of traditional religious practices. And, fair enough, one book can’t be about everything. But is this entirely sufficient justification? One can imagine an analogous case of the study working class culture and unions in the industrial era of Britain but without any mention of the wider context of socialist ideology or Marx. Would this be entirely satisfactory? Such reservations are especially true here as Duffy makes clear that a central concern of this book is to show “that no substantial gulf existed between the religion of the clergy and educated elite on the one hand and that of the people at large on the other.” (pg.2) So presumably somebody understood the deeper theological issues.Though the book presents endless examples of a popular traditional religious world view of piety and devotion it is never made clear where this religious system came from. For example, the fulcrum of this world was the sacrifice of the Mass, devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, and veneration of the Body of Christ, Corpus Christi (chapter 3 devotes nearly 40 pages to this). But what do/did all these words mean and where did they come from? At one point reference is made to the “miracle of transubstantiation” (pg. 95). But what does this complex piece of pseudo-Aristotelian jargon mean? Where did it come from and why after over a thousand years suddenly became so important? We are never told.Similarly, we are told that “the primary mode of lay encounter with the Host” was by visual observation (pg.95), as of a magical symbol. But why should this be so when this is in clear contradiction of the dominical intention – “Eat this”. The discussion around the elevation of the host during Mass fails to mention that the key reason for this is that no one could see or hear what was going on because the celebrant priest had turned his back on the congregation: but why had this happened? This was a radical departure from tradition in early medieval times. We are not told why so we are left wondering at the vehemence at the destruction of the divisive rood screens by reformers – to which considerable reference is made – without ever really understanding what lay behind this.Does any of this matter? Jan Hus (1372-1415) certainly thought so and his concern led to his being trapped by the Church authorities – who also thought it mattered – and burnt at the stake: true, the Hussite rebellion and wars were in a far-away place but Hus was greatly influenced by Wycliffe and it was a harbinger of things to come, that the theological structure was ceasing to be credible.Part of the reason I write now is that to me the paradigm that underlies this book – regardless of its admirable chronicling of events - is not only false but itself has a much wider context. Duffy acknowledges this in his introduction referring to his growing up in Catholic Ireland in the 1960’s at the time of the Vatican Council II. The significance of this is that the tumultuous changes that followed were analogous to the impact the Reformation had on traditional Catholicism. The issues mentioned above are still toxic.This epochal event for many also came out of no-where in the midst of “a strong and vibrant tradition.” Like the Reformation it was often seen as an unanticipated and unwelcome calamity. When plans for a council were announced the leader of the Roman Catholic Church in England, Cardinal Heenan, when asked what its purpose could be, could think of nothing other than perhaps to define a new Marian dogma. When its ramifications did become apparent ordinary Catholics were shocked beyond belief, their whole world threatened with destruction: the altars were not only stripped of their splendour to be replace with cold stone blocks or tables, sanctuaries were striped out with iconoclastic ruthlessness, vestments jettisoned and the language of the liturgy changed from the sacral Latin to the vernacular; even the name of God was removed from the scripture readings to be replaced by an incomprehensible and unpronounceable word, YAHWEH – to name but a few of the changes that left devout Catholics reeling and their world in ruins.Little wonder many regarded this as a New Reformation, in opposition to which an angry reaction soon gathered pace in all sorts of cadres related to the Tridentine (after the Council of Trent that sought to contain and overturn the damage of the Reformation) and Anti-Reformation movements, such as the Latin Mass Society, that sought to turn back the clock with a real sense of vehemence. The illusion again is that this had all happened because of the work of a small minority intent on mischief working against the faithful: a view which is simply a state of denial. So there is a certain congruence between Duffy’s thesis for the Reformation and how some people viewed the contemporary reformation. Does this betray a certain partiality? It is certainly grist to the mill for a certain kind of polemic.As I recount these events one can see the template for a view of history that looks back to the events of a putatively similar trauma in the sixteenth century. Though it is very easy to look back and see the changes of the Reformation as the work of a maniacal monarch (Henry VIII), mad monk (Martin Luther) or malicious minority this movement did not come out of nowhere as some unexpected “violent rupture”: it had been building up for centuries. As with Vatican II, it was a result of profound cultural changes to which many were in denial or sought exotic explanations, such as a demonic attack on the church by the agencies of evil in an apocalyptic struggle – or, as the infamous traditionalist Archbishop Lefebvre put it, “the adulterous union of the church and the (French) revolution.” But the truth was that, as in the medieval epoch, the whole epistemic and theological structure of a cultural world was disintegrating under the pressure of new knowledge and experience. The famed Medieval Age of Faith was structured around the scholastic synthesis of Aristotle and the Bible (Thomism) that began to give way to a new empirical/scientific form of investigation that emerged in the thirteenth century in the writings of influential scholars such as Jean Buridan (born 1296), Nicole Oresme (born 1325), Robert Grosseteste (Bishop of Lincoln) and the Franciscan Friar Roger Bacon (1220-1292) whose order would also produce the decisive and divisive figure who shredded the medieval synthesis, William of Ockham. None of which is mentioned in this book.This empirical and nominalist (from its focus on specific rather than generalized knowledge) tradition was shaped by outstanding minds that might seem a world away from the pieties of ordinary medieval parishioners. But it was the same world. The doctrinal fabric that sustained medieval Catholicism as with modern Catholicism rested on theological foundations and these foundations were beginning, fatally, to crumble: in an ominous portent of things to come dogma was being challenged by data. Though often not fully recognized the roots of secularism and science are to be found in the medieval monastic cloister, as A.N.Whitehead recognized in his celebrated study, Science and the Modern World (1925).The growth of a modern sense of the secular sphere emerged in opposition to the attempted Papal domination – a separation or duality of state and church that paradoxically emerged from the papal triumph of Gregory VII in the Investiture controversy that caused the first separation of church and state in the eleventh century. It was all these forces, and others such as the growth of a sense of the individual (cf. Larry Siedentop’s Inventing the Individual), that made the collapse of Medieval Christendom at some point inevitable, whatever the pieties of popular culture. Luther or Henry VIII were only the final sparks to a well-prepared pyre.It is important to realize that all this was not in origin an attack on the church – as it would later become – but a movement within the church exploring the consequences of new knowledge. The flash-points of this changing world in many ways reflected the flashpoints of the modern controversy within the church: ecclesiology (the nature of the Church and Papal authority) soteriology (the nature of redemption and the Mass) Ecumenism (the relation to other churches and religions, particularly Judaism), these and many more were the expressions of a profound ferment of ideas and historical experience controversies that resurfaced with vehemence in the modern conciliar debate in which many could not see the wisdom of the Tridentine cardinal Pole’s dictum that. “Heretics be not in everything heretical.” And part of the tragedy of the Roman Catholic Church is its ability to recognize the need for change but the inability to implement it – or, as one clerical colleague once put it to me, the church has the breaks of a juggernaut with the engine of a lawn mower: the current prevarication over the blessing of gay relationships is a case in point.The point of this rumination is to indicate that the position a historian takes, writing as a Roman Catholic, on one era will reflect the understanding he has of his own. The issues with which Duffy engages are not features of a distant past they are, for many Catholics live and volatile issues, even personal anguish, that are difficult to address without clarifying the wider context. In modern times the effects on the Roman Catholic Church of secular, scientific, critical and experiental thinking was cogently expressed in the great polemical letter of the Jesuit, George Tyrell, on Medievalism (1908) to the Primate of Belgium, Cardinal Mercier (the foremost exponent of neo-scholasticism, the so-called ‘perennial philosophy ‘ of the church) – that helped secure his excommunication! For traditionalists, such as Dietrich von Hildebrand writing after the Vatican Council in his polemical work The Trojan Horse in the City of God (1996), there was never any doubt that this was an attack that must be repulsed, that, as with the traditionalism of John Paul II – the Church was in essence pristine and immutable, and that renewal was merely the recovery/repackaging of a glorious past. It is on this spectrum of beliefs that one must ultimately declare a position and it will be a position that shapes all that follows.Since its publication nearly 30 years ago (in 1992) this authoritative work has been much lauded by sometimes ecstatic reviewers. I still remember the day shortly after its publication when a fellow priest of the monastic order to which I belonged showed me a copy he had just bought, fulsome with praise. I demurred then and have not had the inclination since to read it, partly because I was all too aware that the issues such as those to which I have referred are not historic, they are present and potent. The priest who first showed me his copy of this book with such appreciation in time became more traditionalist and left the order. I too in time, unable to live with the psychological dissonance of a reactionary church leadership, also, after some thirty years, left the order and the church over the unfulfilled agenda of Vatican II which no doubt puts me in the Lollard camp, or what we would now call liberals. Which also helps to explain why I never read this book – until now.Having said all this I can also appreciate the allure of this book and the attitude that underpins it, of a lost world needlessly destroyed. More than anywhere else I am drawn to the ruins of those old monasteries and churches that still scatter the country. I sit amongst them not as an alien but intimate – I understand not only their stones but the life that once breathed within them and that once I shared: the ruin of that way of life echoes the ruin of my own past. I am even filled with a sense of grievance that such rich and vibrant cultural world has been brought crashing down, not only stones but the vast wealth of learning and piety, all through human venality. In a way it is a threat that now faces the many quaint rural churches that embody the essence of England’s identity that with declining congregations hover on the brink of dissolution.It was in many ways the world of Duffy’s book was a magnificent world of the imagination that has captivated Gothic romanticists ever since. It was reflection on the richness of the past that first prompted the travels of the humanist and antiquarius, John Leland (1505-1552) and with it the beginnings of historical research and cultivation of antiquarian memory from which modern studies, such as this one, have sprung Yet this world, like Narnia and Middle Earth, was purely a creation of the human imagination, as are all our cultural worlds. In the end it has, like the medieval empiricists had, to confront reality. Likewise with this book: it aspires to be a historical chronicle of the past, but it is also a cypher for the present, where a lost world still lingers on in the imaginations of many.

It’s an interesting read, substantial in both form and material presented. However, I was disappointed to see that Duffy managed to slide sideways when dealing with bloodiest parts of the Marian regime’s criminality by simply refusing to discuss it, an omission that defies the attempted broad sweep of the book. It is of course incredibly well researched and indeed the narrative holds good throughout, but there’s something missing.I wondered during my reading of the book what that missing element might be, and eventually came to the conclusion that being a revisionist text it simply lacks what modern history demands, namely balance. Duffy presents and articulates powerfully an argument for the deep Catholic sentiment that continued to hold sway over the majority of England’s parishes during the turbulent Tudor years. Well, no surprises there; after more than a thousand years of adherence to Rome, the religious sensibilities of the nation...it’s spiritual DNA...was being re-engineered by powerful political forces that were capable of crushing anything or anybody that got in the way.Duffy’s argument is that most ordinary people remained stolidly traditionally Catholic, and that it was purely by means of the removal of the vestiges of traditional religion, the energetic preaching of homilies against the papist cause, and the ‘relentless torrent carrying away the landmarks of a thousand years’ (p.593) that eventually overcame the ‘instincts and nostalgia’ of the people; that the Protestant faith succeeded, ultimately, by means of wearing away at traditional catholic faith and tradition in Tudor England. It’s a reasonable argument to make and not rocket science...and as a revisionist historian Duffy has every right to counter previous historical presentations which present the Reformation as both welcomed and desired by the commonality of the people. Both views are polar opposites I suggest, and neither is particularly correct.However, if you want to read an in-depth account of the religious mores in Tudor England then get this book...it has a lot to tell us about the way the reformation in England was both implemented and responded to.

This is a monumental book and it certainly helps to have been exposed to Catholicism in order to wade through and appreciate all the detail. Using a vast wealth of documentary evidence (quoted in the original English), as well as photographs, the author argues against the perception that the English people’s devotion to Catholicism in the late Middle Ages was in a bad way by the time of the Reformation of the 1530s and 1540s. In the first two thirds of the book he winds his way in detail through a multitude of examples of religious practices before the dramatic changes initiated by Thomas Cromwell under Henry VIII, citing many examples from East Anglia in particular. He argues that Lollardy had already seen its apogee and decline long before. Traditional Catholic customs formed an important part in moderating everyday life and binding all levels in communities. The author stresses the importance of liturgical calendar and the hold it had on people’s lives on fasting, abstaining from work and attending services. Much activity was set on ensuring a smooth passage through Purgatory through donations and bequests in wills in return for prayers and making sure that one’s name was on the bede roll of dead benefactors (“Catholicism at the end of the late Middle Ages became in large part a cult of the living in the service of the dead”; people “bought post-mortem fire life insurance”). Proof of a thriving Catholic culture is that during the 150 years prior to the Reformation around two thirds of English parish churches were rebuilt.Henry VIII sought separation from Rome and removal any references to the Pope, but he did not want to provoke revolution. Cromwell, and then Cranmer (who also led the changes through the reign of the juvenile Edward VI) went much further is dismantling and reshaping the liturgical practices and calendar. Latin was replaced by English. Symbolism was replaced by Bible reading. They attacked of the cult of saints, abolishing a multitude of national, local and saint’s days associated with occupational patrons. They did away with local gilds. They outlawed burning of candles before images and the use of rosaries. Prayers for the dead were abolished. Pilgrimages and processions were banned. Eventually even altars were removed. All the paraphernalia and riches of churches, much of it left by parishioners, was first inventoried and shortly afterwards confiscated.The arrival of Catholic Queen Mary, who reigned for 5 years before Protestant Queen Elizabeth, showed that Protestantism had not had its way as much as has been assumed. There occurred a telling rapid resurgence of Catholic elements in wills as well as a flood of printed primers that reflected a reversion to more traditional catholic practices. Returns from diocesan visitations during Elizabeth’s reign, even in strongly Protestant Kent, showed how much was yet to be done to firmly establish Protestantism once and for all.

Certainly a classic work in looking at the The Reformation in England. The author tries to build a case to show that the late medieval Church was popular, woven into the fabric of people's lives and its devotions showed regard for the weak and the poor. The Church was engaging well with the rise of printing, new religious literature appearing. The Reformation is presented as an ongoing process starting with Henry VIII, but becoming more strident under the reign of Edward IV , then triumphing under the reign of Elizabeth. The brief return to Catholicism under the reign of Mary 1553-1555 is shown as being a move which certainly appealed to many English people. In other words The Reformation is cast as a move that was essentially unpopular and imposed from above, not as a welcome relief from a decadent and corrupt church.The book is very thorough, wills, church warden accounts, devotional literature, visual art, are among the source material used. Religious practices in many different towns and regions are mentioned. And this is a long book, probably not to be read as a basic introduction to the English Reformation. And has emerged as a leading text in defence of the Late Medieval church.But many issues arise. A Protestant , who opposes the religious practices such as the intercession of saints, the veneration of relics, and prayers for souls in purgatory, will probably not be won over by arguments that these beliefs were popular and part of the culture. Those who find Medieval Catholicism repressive are unlikely to be convinced . The author's understating of the persecution of heretics during the reign of Mary I does not help his caseOne criticism has been made is that the book says little about religious houses, and groups like the friars. Virtually nothing about the role of the pardoner and the summoner , who of course appear in Chaucer. The use of source material can be questioned. The author draws on 'The Book of Margery Kemp' without mentioning that there is so little evidence that this work was actually read or even circulated at the time of its creation.But this book has made a significant contribution to the ongoing debate surrounding the English Reformation . And deserves to be read.

This well written and accessible history gives a different insight into the state of the Church in England in the late medieval period. Rather than the tired and corrupt institution it has been characterised as by pro- reformation historians, this book sees the Church in this period as flourishing and popular. It suggests that much of the best in the English church was destroyed by the reformation.