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PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY
Stephen Collins Donation
BR 1600 .F6 1851
Foxe, John, 1516-1587
Book of martyrs
BOOI OF MAHTYRS;
OR,
A HISTORY
OF THE
LIVES, SUFFERINGS, AND TRIUMPHANT DEATHS,
OF THE
PRIMITIVE AS WELL AS PROTESTANT
MARTYRS:
FROM THE COMMENCEMENT OF CHRISTIANITY,
TO THE
LATEST PERIODS OF PAGAN AND POPISH PERSECUTION
TO WHICH IS ADDED,
N ACCOUNT OF THE INQUISITION, THE BARTHOLOMEW MASSACRE IN FRANCE,
THE GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER LOUIS XIV., THE MASSACRE IN THR
IRISH REBELLION, IN THE YEAR 1641, AND THE RECENT
PERSECUTIONS OF THE PROTESTANTS IN THE SOUTH
OF FRANCE.
" Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles."— Matt. vii. 18.
ORIGINALLY COMPOSED BY THE v/
REV. JOHN FOX, M. A. CTcA-^vaTo
AND NOW IMPROVED BY IMPORTANT ALTERATIONS AND ADDITIONS, BT
. REV. CHARLES A. GOODRICH
EMBELLISHED WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS.
HARTFORD:
PUBLISHED BY EDWIN HUNT
6 ASYLUM STREET.
1851.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year, 1843.
BY J. SEYMOUR BROWN,
ill the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Conneci-cuc.
PREFACE.
Few works in the English language have been read with deeper
interest, where it has been circulated, than Fox's " Martyrology." It
was the production of a most laborious, benevolent, and pious man,
who devoted eleven years to the preparation of it ; and who, in order
that the enemies of Protestantism might be able neither to gainsay,
nor contradict its statements, " weighed," as his biographer remarks,
" with the most scrupulous attention, the certainty of the facts, which
he recorded, and the validity of the authorities, from which he drew
his information." On its appearance, the Papists were greatly alarmed,
as well they might be, and resorted to every practicable expedient to
injure the reputation of the work. Their artifices were, however, in
vain. The facts they were unable to disprove, nor could they prevent
the shock, which many a mind received, at the perusal of their cruel-
ties. The work has always been an eyesore to Popery, and its cir-
culation dreaded by its votaries.
The present volume is an abridgment; but it contains the most
interesting and important parts of the original work, which is too vo-
luminous and expensive, for general circulation. The Editor has en-
deavored to execute his task with fidelity, and to give to the public
such a volume, as the true history of the times would justify. The
attention of the reader is particularly requested to the Introduction,
prepared by the Editor, designed to show, in contrariety to the prin-
ciples and practices of Rome, that the Gospel does not allow of perse-
cution in any form whatever ; and which, at the same time, may serve
to display some of the causes, which have led Papists and Pagans to
to show such a bitter hostility to the friends of a pure Christianity.
No apology will be needed for the publication, and as wide dissemi-
nation of the present volume as may be. Rome is at work — openly
and secretly — laboriously — assiduously — by night and by day — both
here, and in protestant Europe — especially in England. It may be her
last struggle, but it is strong and determined. Within a short time,
disclosures have been made of the prevalence — in one branch of the
Church of Christ — both in England and in the United States — of some
of the worst errors of Papacy, and which has justly alarmed the whole
Protestant world. A spiritual controversy has begun which seems
likely to involve the Episcopal Church in all countries, where it ex-
J1 PREFACE.
ists ; and whicli, it is devoutly to be wished, may be so managed by
her spiritual dignitaries, as to result in her wider and more perfect
separation from Papal forms and influence.
To the American people this subject presents itself with peculiar
interest. For some years the Papal authorities have turned a longing
eye toward the United States. Vast sums have been, and are yearly
being, expended to extend the Papal power. Magnificent cathedrals
have been erected, and Catholic priests by hundreds have been sent
over to establish their corrupt system in every unoccupied portion of
the country. Publications, very numerous, and conducted with no
small ability, are pouring forth from the press, to aid the Jesuit in
bringing the ignorant and incautious in subjection to the " Man of Sin."
The question presents itself with great force to the American peo-
ple : " Shall this system find encouragement in the land of the pil-
grims ?" Who can wish to see such a root of bitterness planted here,
to send forth branches, which may yield fruit full of spiritual poison ?
The friends of truth should not, indeed, be needlessly alarmed ; but,
on the other hand, they should not sleep. A holy vigilance should
guard well the approaches of an enemy, whose triumphs here would
be the ruin of that fair fabric, which cost our fathers so much toil to
erect. What friend of Zion does not tremble at only the possibility,
that Papal darkness and Papal thraldom may overspread even a por-
tion of our country.
The following work, it is believed, will present an antidote to the
insidious poison attempted to be infused into the minds of the unestab-
lished and ignorant, by the professors of Popery, and its self-styled
" liberal abettors.''^ It is only necessary that the volume should be care-
fully and candidly read, to convince every one that the Papal system
is not that harmless, innocent thing, which some would represent.
We wish not, indeed, that the Papists should be persecuted ; we would
say, protect them in their private capacity, wherever they exist in the
land ; but beware of so encouraging them, as to bring the American
people under their temporal and spiritual domination.
It may be said — indeed it is said, that the persecuting spirit of Po-
pery has passed away. But let it be remembered, that persecution is
inseparable from it — is its very essence. A church, which pretends to
be infallible, will always seek the destruction of those who dissent from
it ; and as a proof that its spirit is unchanged and vnchangeable, we
may refer to the persecutions in the south of France some few years
since, of which a particular account will be found in this volume.
Until some further proof is given to the world, than has yet been
given, of the more mild and pacific spirit of Popery, we shall believe
that it is still as intolerant, as when it spread its desolating ravages
through the unoffending valleys of Piedmont ; or, at a subsequent pe-
riod, lighted up the consuming fires of Smithfield.
THE LIFE
REV. JOHN FOX.
John Fox was born at Boston, in Lincolnshire, in 1517, where,
his parents are stated to have lived in respectable circumstances. He
was deprived of his father at an early age ; and notwithstanding hi&
mother soon married again, he still remained under the parental roof.
From an early display of talents and inclination to learning, his friends
were induced to send him to Oxford, in order to cultivate and brino-
ihem to maturity. During his residence at this place, he was distin"^
guished for the excellence and acuteness of his intellect, which was
improved by the emulation of his fellow-collegians, united to an inde-
fatigable zeal and industry on his part. These qualities soon gained
him the admiration of all ; and as a reward for his exertions and amia-
ble conduct, he was chosen fellow of Magdalen college ; which was
accounted a great honour in the university, and seldom bestowed un-
less in cases of great distinction. It appears that the first display of
his genius was in poetry; and that he composed some Latin come-
dies, which are still extant. But he soon directed his thoughts to a
more serious subject, the study of the sacred Scriptures : to divinity,
indeed, he apphed himself with more fervency than circumspection,
and discovered his partiulity to the reformation, which had then com-
menced, before he was known to its supporters, or to those who pro-
tected them ; a circumstance which proved to him the source of his
lirst troubles.
He is said to have often affirmed, that the first matter which occa-
sioned his search into the popish doctrine, was, that he saw diver
Things, most repugnant in their nature to one another, forced upon men
at the same time ; upon this foundation his resolution and intended
obedience to that church were somewhat shaken, and bv deo-rees a
dislike to the rest took place.
His first care was to look into both the ancient and modern history
of the church ; to ascertain its beginning and progress ; to consider
the causes of all those controversies which in the meantime had
sprung up, and diligently to weigh their effects, solidity, infirmities, &c.
V, LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN FOX.
Before he had attained his thirtieth year, he had studied the Crcrk
and Latin fathers, and other learned authors, the transactions of the
councils , and decrees of the consistories, and had acquired a very
competent skill in the Hebrew language. In these occupations he
frequently spent a considerable part, or eveu' the whole of the night ;
and in order to unbend his mind after such incessant study, he would
resort to a grove near the college, a place much frequented by the
students in the evening, on account of its sequestered gloominess. In
these solitary walks he has been heard to ejaculate heavy sobs and
sighs, and with tears to pour forth his prayers to God. These nightly
retirements, in the sequel, gave rise to the first suspicion of his alien
ation from the church of Rome. Being pressed for an explanation
of this altera-tion in his conduct, he scorned to call in fiction to his ex-
cuse ; he stated his opinions ; and was, by the sentence of the col-
lege, convicted, condemned as a heretic, and expelled.
His friends, upon the report of this circumstance, were highly of-
fended, and especially his father-in-law, who was now grown altoge-
ther implacable, either through a real hatred conceived against him for
this cause, or pretending himself aggrieved, that he might now, with
more show of justice, or at least with more security, withhold from
Mr. Fox his paternal estate ; for he knew it could not be safe for one
publickly hated, and in danger of the law, to seek a remedy for his
injustice.
When he Avas thus forsaken by his own friends, a refuge ofiered
itself in the house of Sir Thomas Lucy, of Warwickshire, by whom
he was sent for, to instruct his children. In this house he afterwards
married. But the fear of the popish inquisitors hastened his depart-
ure thence ; as they were not contented to pursue public ofllsnces,
but began also to due into the secrets of private families. He now
began to consider what was best to be done to free himself from fur-
ther inconvenience, and resolved either to go to his wife's father oi
to his father-in-law.
His wife's father was a citizen of Coventry, whose heart was not
alienated from him, and he was more likely to be well entreated, for his
daughter's sake. He resolved first to go to him ; and, in the mean-
while, by letters, to try whether his father-in-law would receive him
or not. This he accordingly did, and he received for answer, " that it
seemed to him a hard condition to take one into his house whom he
knew to be guilty, and condemned for a capital offence ; neither was
he ignorant what hazard he should undergo in so doing ; he would,
however show himself a kinsman, and neglect his own danger. If
^ / lie would alter his mind, he might come, on condition to stay as long
as he himself desired ; but if he could not be persuaded to that, he
' , must content himself with a shorter stay, and not bring him and his
- ^ mother into danger.
No condition was to be refused ; besides, he was secretly advised
by his mother to come, and not to fear his father-in-law's .severity ;
" for that, perchance, it was needful to write as he did, but when oc-
casion should be offered, he would make recompense for his worda
with his actions." In fact he was better received by both of them
than he had hoped for.
By these means he kept himself concealed for sometime, and after-
UFE OF THE REV. JOHN FOX. vu
wards made a journey to London, in the latter part of the reign of
Henry VIII. Here, being unknown, he was in much distress, and
was even reduced to the danger of being starved to death, had not
Providence interfered in his favour, in the following manner :
One day as Mr. Fox was sitting in St. Paul's church, exhausted with
long fasting, a stranger took a seat by his side, and courteously salu-
ted him, thrust a sum of money into his hand, and bade him cheer
up his spirits ; at the same time informing him, that in a few days
new prospects would present themselves for his future subsistence.
Who this stranger was, he could never learn ; but at the end of three
days, he received an invitation from the dutchess of Richmond to un-
dertake the tuition of the children of the earl of Surrey, who, together
with his father the duke of Norfolk, was imprisoned in the Tower,
by the jealousy and ingratitude of the king. The children thus con-
fided to his care were, Thomas, who succeeded to the dukedom ;
Henry, afterwards earl of Northampton ; and Jane, who became
countess of Westmoreland. In the performance of his duties he
fully satisfied the expectations of the dutchess, their aunt.
These halcyon days continued during the latter part of the reign
of Henry VIII. and the five years of the reign of Edward VI. till
Mary came to the crown, who, soon after her accession, gave all
power into the hands of the papists.
At this time Mr. Fox, who was still under the protection of his
noble pupil, the duke, began to excite the envy and hatred of many,
particularly Dr. Gardiner, then bishop of Winchester, who, in the
sequel, became his most violent enemy.
Mr. Fox, aware of this, and seeing the dreadful persecutions then
commencing, began to think of quitting the kingdom. As soon as
the duke knew his intention, he endeavoured to persuade him to re-
main ; and his arguments were so powerful, and given with so much
sincerity, that he gave up the thought of abandoning his asylum for
the present.
At that time the bishop of Winchester was very intimate with the
duke, (by the patronage of whose family he had risen to the dignity
he then enjoyed,) and frequently waited on him to present his ser-
vice ; when he several times requested that he might see his old tu-
tor. At first the duke denied his request, at one time alleging his
absence, at another, indisposition. At length it happened that Mr.
Fox, not knowing the bishop was in the house, entered the room
where the duke and he were in discourse; and seeing the bishop,
withdrew. Gardiner asked who that was, the duke answered, " his
physician, who was somewhat uncourtly, as being new come from
the university." — " I like his countenance and aspect very well,"
replied the bishop, " and when occasion oflfers, I will send for him."
The duke understood that speecli as the messenger of some approach-
ing danger ; and now he himself thought it high time for Mr. Fox
to quit the city, and even the country. He accordingly caused every
thing necessary for his flight to be provided in silence, by sending
one of his servants to Ipswich to hire a bark and prepare all the
requisites for his departure. He also fixed on the house of one of
his servants, who was a farmer, where he might lodge till the wind
became favourable ; and every thing being in readiness, Mr. Fox
Viii LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN FOX.
took leave of his noble patron, and with his wife, who was pregnant
at the time, secretly departed for the ship.
The vessel was scarcely under sail, when a most violent storm
came on, which lasted all day and night, and the next day drove them
back to the port from which they had departed. During the time
that the vessel had been at sea, an officer, dispatched by the bishop
of Winchester, had broken open the house of the farmer with a war-
rant to apprehend Mr. Fox wherever he might be found, and bring
him back to the city. On hearing this news he hired a horse, under
the pretence of leaving the town immediately ; but secretly returned
the same night, and agreed with the captain of the vessel to sail for
any place as soon as the wind should shift, only desiring him to pro-
ceed, and not to doubt but that God would prosper his undertaking.
The mariner suffered himself to be persuaded, and within two days
landed his passengers in safety at Nieuport.
After spending a few days at that place, Mr. Fox set out for Basle,
where he found a number of English refugees, who had quitted their
country to avoid the cruelty of the persecutors ; with these he asso-
ciated, and began to write his " History of the Acts and Monuments
of the Church," which -was first pubhshed in Latin at Basle, and
shortly after in English.
In the mean time the reformed religion began again to flourish in
England, and the popish faction much to decline, by the death of
Queen Mary; which induced the greater number of the protestant
exiles to return to their native country.
Among others, on the accession of Elizabeth to tise throne, Mr.
Fox returned to England ; where, on his arrival, he found a faithful
and active friend in his late pupil, the duke of Norfolk, till death de-
prived him of his benefactor : after which event, Mr. Fox inherited
a pension bequeathed to him by the duke, and ratified by his son, the
earl of Suffolk.
Nor did the good man's successes stop here. On being recom-
mended to the queen by her secretary of state, the great Cecil, her
majesty granted him the prebendary of Shipton, in the cathedral of
Salisbury, Avhich was in a manner forced upon him ; for it Avas with
difficulty that he could be persuaded to accept of it.
On his re-settlement in England, he employed himself in revising
and enlarging his admirable Martyrology. With prodigious pains
and constant study he completed that celebrated work in eleven years-
For the sake of greater correctness, he wrote every line of this vast
book with his own hand, and transcribed all the records and papers
himself. But, in consequence of such excessive toil, leaving no part
of his time free from study, nor affording himself either the repose or
recreation which nature required, his health was so reduced, and his
person became so emaciated and altered, that such of his friends and
relations as only conversed with him occasionally, could scarcely re-
cognise his person. Yet, though he grew daily more exhausted, he
proceeded in his studies as briskly as ever, noi would he be persua-
ded to diminish his accustomed labours. — The papists, foreseeing how
detrimental his history of their errors and cruelties would prove to
their cause, had recourse to every artifice to lessen the reputation of
his work; but their milice was of signal service, both to Mr. Fox
LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN FOX IX
himself, and to llie church of God at large, as it eventually made his
book more intrinsically valuable, by inducing him to weigh, with the
most scrupulous attention, the certainty of the facts which he record-
ed, and the validity of the authorities from which he di-ew his infor-
mation.
But while he was thus indefatigably employed in promoting the
cause of truth, he did not neglect the other duties of his station ; he
was charitable, humane, and attentive to the wants, both spiritual
and temporal, of his neighbours. V/ith the view of being more ex-
tensively useful, although he had no desire to cultivate the acquain-
tance of the rich and great on his own account, he did not decline the
friendship of those in a higher rank who proffered it, and never fail-
ed to employ his influence with them in behalf of the poor and needy.
In consequence of his well known probity and charity, he was fre-
quently presented with sums of money by persons possessed of wealth,
which he accepted and distributed among those who were distressed.
He Avould also occasionally attend the table of his friends, not so
much for the sake of pleasure, as from civility, and to convince them
that his absence was not occasioned by a fear of being exposed to
the temptations of the appetite. In short, his character as a man and
as a Christian was without reproach.
Of the esteem in which he was held, the names of the following
respectable fi'iends and noble patrons, will afford ample proof. It
has been already mentioned that the attachment of the duke of Nor-
folk was so great to his tutor, that he granted him a pension for life ;
he also enjoyed the patronage of the earls of Bedford and Warwick,
and the intimate friendship of Sir Francis Walsingham, (secretary of
state,) Sir Thomas and Mr. Michael Hennage, of whom he was fre-
quently heard to observe, that Sir Thomas had every requisite for a
complete courtier, but that Mr. Michael possessed all the merits ol
his brother, besides his own, still untainted by the court. He was on
very intimate and affectionate terms with Sir Drue Drury, Sir Fran-
cis Drake, Dr. Grindal, archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Elmar, bishop
of London, Dr. Pilkington, bishop of Durham, and Dr. Nowell,
dean of St. Paul's. Others of his most intimate acquaintances
and friends were. Doctors Humphrey, Whitaker and Fulk, Mr.
John Crowly, and Mr. Baldwin Collins. Among the eminent citi-
zens, we find he was much venerated by Sir Thomas Greshain, Sir
Thomas Roe, Alderman Bacchus, Mr. Smith, Mr. Dale, Mr. Sher-
rington, &c. &.C.
At length, having long served both the church and the world by
his ministry, by his pen, and by the unsullied lustre of a benevolent,
useful, and holy life, he meekly resigned his soul to Christ, on the
18th of April, 1587, being then in the seventieth y 3ar of his age. He
was interred in the chancel of St. Giles', Crippljgate ; of which pa-
rish he had been, in the beginning of Elizabeth's reign, for some time
vicar.
The Lord had given him a foresight of his departure ; and so ful-
ly was he assured that the time was jusi at hand when his soul should
quit the body, that (probably to enjoy unmolested communion with
God, and to have no worldly interruptions in his last hours) he pur-
X LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN FOX.
posely sent his two sons from home, though he loved them with great
IvnuwlTil '"''' ""trJ^'y ^^^"™^'^' ^"^ spirit, as he had foreS
would be the case, had flown to heaven.
His death occasioned great lamentations throughout the city, and
whn^ «nn "'Z ^T""'"^ V'^ " ^^^^^ concoursc of people, eaib of
whom appeared to bewail the losa of a father or a brothen
INTRODUCTION.
That the introduction of Christianity into the world, cnnsiderinff
the character of its Divine Founder, and the nature and tendency of
its doctrines and precepts, should have ever given birth to persecution,
may well appear surprising. The Son of God is described to us, as
" meek and lowly," as *' holy and harmless ;" never did any other
on earth give so illustrious an example of benevolence, patience, and
kindness. So far from manifesting a persecuting spirit himself, he
suffered reproaches and indignities without a murmur. "When re-
viled, he reviled not again;" but gave a high and noble exhibition ol
that self-denial, meekness, and fortitude, which he enjoined his fol-
lowers to practise after him. Nay, so far from encouraging any
methods of persecution, he rebuked and put a stop to every appear-
ance of them. Thus, when his disciples would have called doAvn lire
from Heaven, to consume the Samaritans, who refused to receive
him, he rebuked them, saying, " Ye know not what manner of spirit
ye are of; the Son of Man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to
save them ;" and when one of those who were with Christ, cut off
the ear of one of the high priest's servants, upon his laying his hands
on him, he severly reproved him : " Put up again thy sword into its
place ; for all they that take the sword, shall perish with the sword."
And, in order to cure his apostles of their ambition and pride, and to
prevent their claiming undue power, he gave them an example of
great humility and condescension, in washing and wiping their feet ;
and forbid them imitating the "Gentiles, by exercising dominion and
authority; but whosoev^er will be great amongst you, let him be your
minister; and whosoever will be chief amongst you, let him be your
servant ; even as the Son of Man came not to be ministered unto, but
to minister, and to give his life for many." And as the Jewish teach-
ers took on them the name of Rabbi, to denote their power over the
consciences of those they instructed, he commanded his disciples :
" Be ye not called Rabbi, for one is your master, even Christ, and all
ye are brethren ; and call no man father, for one is your father which
is in Heaven ; but he that is greatest among you shall be your ser-
vant." And it is, moreover, certain, that were Christ's doctrines and
precepts regarded and practised as they should be, universal benevo-
lence would be the certain effect, and eternal peace and union would
reign amongst the members of the Christian Church. For if there be
XJi INTRODUCTION.
any commands of certain clearness, any precepts of evident obligation
in the gospsl, they are such as refer to the exercise of love, and the
maintenance of universal charity. " Blessed are the meeA," we hear
the Saviour proclaiming, " for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed
are the peace makers, for they shall be called the children of God."
And in another place, describing the nature of religion in general, he
tells us, that the love of God is the first commandment; and the se-
cond like unto it — thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. This he
enjoins upon his disciples, as his peculiar command : " This is my
commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you." Nay,
love was that by which his followers were to be distinguished from all
others. " A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one
another ; as I have loved you, that ye, also, love one another. By
this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to
another." Thus, it is evident, that there is nothing in the life of Jesus
Christ, in his doctrines, or precepts, which gives any countenance to
those wicked methods of propagating and supporting religion, that
some of his pretended followers have made use of, but the strongest
directions to the contrary.
The governing design of Christ's examples, doctrines, and precepts,
was to promote meekness and condescension, universal charity and
love. In this respect, his Apostles were his careful imitators. " Let
love," says Paul, " be without dissimulation ; be kindly aiFectioned
one to another, with brotherly love, in honour preferring one another.
If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men."
And the love he recommended Avas such, " as worketh no ill to his
ncig-hbour.^'' In another place, we find the apostle guarding his Chris-
tian brethren against divisions on account of different sentiments, re-
lating to matters of minor importance. " Receive," says he, " him
that is weak in the faith, not to doubtful disputations, not to debates.
or contentions about disputations, or disputable things." In relation
to such matters, he directs that none should despise or judge others,
because God had received them ; and because every man ought to be
fully persuaded in his own mind, and because the kingdom of God was
not meat and drink, but righteousness and peace in the Holy Ghost;
aiiil because everyone was to give an account of himself to God, to
whom aldne, as his master, he was to stand or fall. From these sub-
stantial reasons, he infers : " We then that are strong," — we who
iiai'o a (iiore comprehensive understanding of the nature of Christiani-
IV", I'll our Christian liberty, " ought to bear the infirmities of the
weak," instead of condemning them, and setting ourselves in opposi-
tion to them. On the contrary, we should employ ourselves in prayer
unto the God of patience and consolation, that he would grant, that
there might be no schism among lieirs of the same glorious inherit-
ance ; but that all, endeavouring to be like minded, one towards
atiother, might preserve the unity of the spirit, thus glorifying God,
even the father of our Lord Jesus Christ, with one mind and one spirit.
Again, \vv find him exhorting u great lowliness and meekness, as an
evidence of walking worthy of the Christian vocation, with long suffer-
ing, forbearing one another, in love. The contrary vices of bitter-
ness, and 'ivrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, and ma-
lice, are to be put away, as things which grieve the Holy Spirit of God ;
and we must be kind one to another, forgiving one another, even a
INTRODUCTION. xiii
(lod for Christ's sake hath forgiven us. To these precepts of the
a])ostle Paul, which might be indefinitely extended, we shall only add
the amiable description of the wisdom, that is from above, given by
the apostle James. ' The wisdom that is from above,' is pure, and
peaceable, and gentle, and easy to be intreated, full of good fruits,
without partiality, and without hypocrisy. But if we have bitter en-
vying and strife in our hearts, we have nothing to glory in, but we lie
against the truth,' i. e. belie our Christian profession ; for whatever
false judgment we may pass upon ourselves, this ' wisdom descend-
eth not from above, but is earthly, sensual, devilish ; for Avhere envy-
ing and strife is, there is confusion and every evil work.'
" But to this it has been objected, that although the precepts of the
Christian religion, as recorded both by Christ and his apostles, seem
not to countenance persecution ; and nothing in favour of it can be
urged from the conduct of Jesus Christ himself; yet that the conduct
of his apostles, particularly that of Paul, may be fairly urged, as a
warrant in certain cases.
" The venerable Beza adduces two instances, as a vindication of
iJie punishment of heretics. The first is that of Ananias and Sapphi-
ra, struck dead by Peter ; and the other that of Elymas, the sorcerer,
struck blind by Paul. But how impertinently are both these instances
alleged ? Heresy was not the thing punished, in either of them.
Ananias and Sapphira were struck dead, for hypocrisy and lying ; and
for conspiring, if it were possible, to deceive God. Elymas was a
Jewish sorcerer, and false prophet ; a subtle mischievous fellows an
enemy to righteousness and virtue, who withstood the Apostolic au-
thority, and endeavoured, by his frauds, to prevent the conversion of
the deputy to the Christian faith. The two first of these persons
were punished with death. By whom 1 What, by Peter ? No : by
the immediate hand of God. Peter gave them a reproof suitable to
their wickedness ; but as to the punishment, he w^as only the mouth of
God in declaring it, even of that God who knew the hypocrisy of
their hearts, and gave this signal instance of his abhorrence of it in
the infancy of the Christian church, greatly to discourage, and, if pos-
sible, for the future to prevent men thus dealing fraudulently and in-
sincerely with him. And, I presume, if God hath a right to punish
frauds and cheats in another world, he hath a right to do so in this ;
especially in the instance before us, which seems to have something
very peculiar in it.
" Peter expressly says to Sapphira : ' How^ is it that ye have agreed
together to tempt the spirit of the Lord V What can this tempting of
the spirit of the Lord be, but an agreement between Ananias and his
wife, to put this fraud on the apostle, to see whether or not he could
discover it by the spirit he pretended to 1 This was a proper chal-
lenge to the spirit of God, which the apostles were endued with, and
a combination to put the apostolic character to the trial. Had not
the cheat been discovered, the apostles' inspiration and mission would
have been deservedly questioned ; and as the state of Christianity re-
quired that this divine mission should be abundantly established, Peter
lets them know that their hypocrisy was discovered ; and, to create
the greater regard and attention to their persons and message, God
saw fit to punish that hypocrisy with death.
"As to Elymas, the sorcerer, this instance is as foreign and imperii-
Xiv INTRODUCTION.
neni as the other. Sergius Paulus, proconsul of Cyprus, had enter-
tained at Paphos, one Barjesus, a Jew, a sorcerer ; and hearino-, also,
tliat Paul and Barnabas were in the city, he sent for them to hear the
doctrine they preached. Accordingly, they endeavoured to instruct
the deputy in the Christian faith, but were withstood by Elymas, v.ho
by his subtleties and tricks endeavoured to hinder his conversion.
St. Paul, therefore, in order to confirm his own divine mission, and to
prevent the deputy's being deceived by the frauds and sorceries of
Elymas, after severely rebuking him for his sin, and in opposition to
Chris tianit)^, tells him not that the proconsul ought to put him in jail,
and punish him with the civil sword ; but that God himself would de-
cide the controversy, by striking the sorcerer himself immediately
blind ; which accordingly came to pass, to the full conviction of the
proconsul.
"Now what is there in all this to vindicate persecution ? God
punishes wicked men for fraud and sorcery, who knew their hearts,
and had a right to punish the iniquity of them. Therefore men may
punish others for opinions they may think to be true, and are con-
scientious in embracing, without knowing the heart, or being capable
of discovering any insincerity in it. Or God may vindicate the cha-
racter and mission of his own messengers, when wickedly opposed
and denied, by immediate judgments inflicted by himself on their
opposers. Therefore the magistrate may punish and put to death
without any warrant from God, such who behe their^mission, and are
ready to submit to it, as far as they understand the nature and design
of it. Are these consequences just and rational ? or would any man
have brought these instances as precedents for persecution, that was
not resolved, at all hazards, to defend and practice it?"*
To the candid and unprejudiced mind, the preceding view of the
subject will be sufficient, it is believed, to justify the conclusion, that
neither the doctrines, precepts, nor conduct of Christ, nor those of his
apostles, can in the remotest degree give any sanction to the spirit, nor
to any of the forms of persecution. But to the omniscient eye of
Christ, it was not concealed, that the promulgation of Christianity
would lead to persecutions of the most grievous kind, both from op-
posers and pretended friends. To these approaching persecutions —
to these most bitter and grievous days of trial and calamity to his faith-
ful followers, Christ, as a true prophet of God, often alluded. He
spoke of them as certain, as seasons which would try the faith, and
sincerity, and patience of his followers ; at the same time, he bid
them, " put a heavenly courage on ;" since, by an exhibition of faith,
fortitude, and constancy, they would give proof of the sustaining power
of his gospel, and through such abundant tribulations, would "be pre-
pared for a more abundant weight of glory. To his disciples, who
would lead in " the noble army of martyrs," he strongly represented
the dangers which would come upon them. " They will dehver you,"
says he, " up to councils ; they will scourge you in the synagogues ;
you shall be hated of all men for my sake ; nay, the time cometh,
when they Avill think they are doing God a service, by putting you to
death." And alluding to a consequence of the promulgation of tlie
gospel, viz. the prevalence of persecution, the result of pride, envy,
♦ Chandler's History of Persecution, p. 401, et alibi.
INTRODUCTION. XT
inalice, and a love of power, he says, " Think not that I come to
send peace, but a sword, for I am come to set a man at variance with
his father, and the daughter against her mother," &c. And again,
" I am come to send fire on the earth : and what will I, if it be al-
ready kindled? Suppose ye that I am come to send peace on earth?
I tell you nay, but rather division." How is it explained by Christ
himself? Why in the very next words : " For from henceforth," i. e
upon the publication of my religion and gospel, " there shall be five
in one house divided, three against two, and two against three," «&c.
Can any man need paraphrase and criticism to explain thefe passages
of any thing but of that persecution, which should befal the preachers
and believers of the gospel ? or imagine it to be a prophetic descrip-
tion 01 a fire to be blown up by Christ to consume others, Avhen the
whole connexion evidently refers it to a fire, that the opposers of his
religion should blow up, to consume himself and followers ? Jesus
knew It was such a fire, as would first consume himself. " I am come
to send fire on the earth; and what will I, if it be already kindled?"
or, as the words should be translated, " How do I wish it was already
kindled ? How do I wish it to break out on my own person, that I
might glorify God by my sufferings and death ?" For as it follows,
" I have a baptism to be baptized with," a baptism v>'ith my own blood :
" and how am I straitened till it be accomplished !" After this ac-
count of his own sufferings, he foretels the same should befal his fol-
lowers : " Suppose ye that I am come to give peace on earth ? I tell
you nay, but rather division ;" i. e. as I myself must suffer to bear
witness to the truth, so after my decease, such shall be the unreason-
able and furious opposition to my gospel, as shall occasion divisions
among the nearest relations, some of whom shall hate and persecute
the other for their embracing my religion.*
Agreeably to these predictions of our Saviour, soon after he had
himself ascended to Heaven, and while the apostles were yet publish-
ing abroad the doctrine of Christianity, began those furious persecu-
tions by the Romans, which for three hundred years, or to about the
time of Constantine, carried thousands and tens of thousands by bar-
barities the most shocking, and by tortures the most excruciating and
terrific, to their graves ; thus rendering a profession of the gospel
almost a sure passport to suffering and death.
As an account of these perilous days — of the deep rooted malice
and blood thirsty spirit of barbarians, urged on by the influence of the
powers of darkness, will be found in the former part of the volume,
they will not be noticed farther in this place. Yet a natural ciHosity
may lead us to inquire by what means it happened that the Romans,
who were troublesome to no nation, on account of their religion, and
who suffered even the Jews to live under their own laws, and to fol-
low their own method of worship, almost immediately, on the pro-
mulgation of Christianity, began to persecute its professors.
" One of the principal reasons," says Dj Mosheim, " of the seve-
rity with which the Romans persecuted the Christians, seems to have
been the abhorrence and contempt, with which the latter regarded
the religion of the empire which was so intimately connected with
• Chandler's History of Persecution, ut nipra.
Xn INTRODUCTION.
lie form, and indeed, with the very essence of its political constitii-
xoii. I or though the Romans gave an unlimited toleration to all re-
ligions, which had nothing in their tenets dangerous to the common-
wea th, yet they ivould not permit that of their ancestors, which was
established by the laws of the state, to be turned into derision, nor
the people to be drawn away from their attachment to it. These
however, were the two things which the Christians were charged with!
and that_ justly though to their honour. They dared to ridkule the
absurdities of the Pagan superstition, and they were ardent and assi-
duous m_ gaining proselytes to the truth. Nor did thev only attack
the religion of Rome, but also all the different shapes aiid forms, un-
der which superstition appeared in the various countries, where thev
exercised their ministry. From hence the Romans concluded, that
ttie Christian sect was not only insupportably daring and arroo-ant,
but moreover an enemy to the public tranquillity, and every wa>pro-
per to excite civil wars and commotions in the empire. It is, pro-
bably, on this account, that Tacitus reproaches them with the odious
character oHiaters of mankind, and styles the reHgion of Jesus a de-
structive superstition ; and that Suetonius speaks of the Christians
and their doctrines in terms of the same kind.
_ " Another circumstance that irritated the Romans against the Chris-
tians, was the simpUcity of their worship, which resembled in nothino-
the sacred rites of any other people. The Christians had neither
sacrihces, nor temples, nor images, nor oracles, nor sacerdotal orders •
and this was sufficient to bring upon them the reproaches of an io--
norant multitude, who imagined that there could be no relio-ion with-
out these. Thus they were looked upon as a sort of atheists ; and
by the Roman laws, those who were chargeable with atheism were
declared the pesis of human society. But this was not all ; the sor-
did interests of a multitude of lazy and selfish priests, were imme-
diately connected with the ruin and oppression of the Christian cause.
1 he public worship of such an immense number of deities was a source
of subsistence, and even of riches, to the whole rabble of priests and
augurs, and also to a multitude of merchants and artists. And as the
progress of the gospel threatened the ruin of this religious traflic,
and the profit it produced, this raised up new enemies to the Chris-
tians, and armed the rage of mercenary superstition against their lives
and their cause."*
To this explanation given by Mosheim, may be added, in substance,
the explanation of Bishop Warburton, which is still more lucid and
satisfactory. Intercommunity of worship, according to the latter,
was a principle which run through the whole pagan world. Every
religion was tolerated, while its advocates claimed for it no exclusive
superiority Hence it was not until after the return of the Jews from
captivity, that they were treated by their neighbours, and afterwards
by the (.Treeks and Romans, with hatred and contempt ; since they
seem not so openly to have claimed that their religion was the only
true one in the world. This pretension to superiority and to exclu-
sive divine origin, was the ground cause of the general odium cast
upoii the Jews by the Pagan world.
• Mosheim, Vol. I, p. 72.
INTRODUCTION- , XVU
When Christianity arose, though on the foundation of Judaism, it
was at first received by Pagan nations with complacency. The gos-
pel was favourably heard, and the superior evidence with which it Avas
enforced, inclined men long habituated to pretended revelations, to
receive it into the number of the established. Accordingly we find
one Roman emperor introducing it among his closet religions ; and
another proposing to the Senate to give it a more public entertain-
ment. But when it was found to carry its pretensions higher, and
like the Jewish, to claim the title of the only true one, then it was
that it began to incur the same hatred and contempt with the Jewish.
But when it went still further, and urged the necessity of all men
forsaking their own national religions, and embracing the gospel,
this so shocked the Pagans, that it soon brought upon itself the bloody
storm which followed. Thus you have the true origin of persecution
for religion; a persecution not committed, but undergone by the
Christian church.*
The Pagan persecutions appeared to have continued until about the
time of Constantine, during whose reign the fall of Paganism began to
take place, and was nearly consummated in that of Theodosius. This
extraordinary revolution, one of the most extraordinary that ever took
place on the theatre of this world, their own writers have described as
" a dreadful and amazing pi'odigy, whicli covered the earth with dark-
ness, and restored the ancient dominion of chaos and night." But
the pen of inspiration has depicted the awful catastrophe in strains of
much higher sublimity and grandeur, and doubtless upon very differ
ent principles. " I beheld," says the writer of the Apocalypse,
" when he had opened the sixth seal, and lo, there was a great earth-
quake, and the sun becam.e black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon
became as blood ; and the stars of heaven fell unto the earth, even
as a fig tree casteth her untimely figs, when she is sliaken of a mighty
wind. And the heaven departed as a scroll, when it is rolled toge-
ther: and every mountain and island were moved out of their places.
And the kings of the earth, and the great men, and the rich men and
the chief captains, and the mighty men, and every bondman and every
freeman, hid themselves in the dens and in the rocks of the moun-
tains— and said to the mountains and rocks. Fall on us, and hide us
from the face of him that sitteth on the throne, and from, the wrath of
the lamb, for the great day of his wrath is come, and who shall be able
to stand?" The same thing seems to be intended, when the same
writer says, " There was war in heaven ; Michael and his angels
fought against the dragon, and the dragon fought and his angels, and
prevailed not, neither was their place found any more in heaven ;
and the great dragon was cast out, that eld serpent, called the Devil
and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world ; he was cast out into
the earth, and his angels were cast out with him." In this highly
wrought figurative language, we are taught to conceive of the dread-
ful conflict, wliich subsisted between the Christian and the heathen
professions ; the persecution which for three centuries had been in-
flicted upon the former, with the issue of the whole, in the ultimate
overthrow of the Pagan persecuting powers, and the subversion of
that idolatrous system in the empire.
• Divine Legation of Moses, Vol. II. 6, 2. § 6, &c.
2
xviii fNTRODUCTION.
Having noticed the persecutions which occurred under the reiwn
of Paganism, and assigned the causes which led those nations which
were Pagan, so powerfully to enlist themselves against Christianity,
we shall next notice the persecutions which were commenced and
curried forward under the influence of the Roman Hierarchy. These
persecutions, the reader will notice, occupied by far the greater part
of the volume. As these persecutions are of a more recent date, as
they were conducted by the pretended, friends of Christianity, and
as the spirit of that system still prevails in nearly every country on
the globe, no apology, it is thought, will be necessary, for occupying
so large a space in the developement of the spirit and tendency of the
papal system.
The rise of such a power is clearly predicted in the scriptures.
Even in the days of the apostles, there were not wanting symptoms
of the approaching Avide spread corruption.
" When the apostle Paul delivered to the elders of the church at
Ephesus, a solemn warning to take heed to themselves, and to the
flock over which the Holy Ghost had made them overseers, he adds,
as the reason of It, ' for I know this, that after my departure shall
grievous wolves enter in among you, not sparing the flock ; also of
your own selves shall men arise, speaking perverse things, to draw
away disciples after them.' Acts xx. 29, 30. The jealousy and fear
wliich he entertained relative to the influence of false teachers, is
manifest in the following passage. ' But I fear, lest by any means,
as the serpent beguiled Eve, through his subtilty, so your minds
should be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ : For such
are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the
apostles of Christ : and no v/onder, for Satan himself is transformed
into an angel of hght ; therefore it is no great thing if his ministers
also be transformed into ministers of righteousness.' (2 Cor. xi. 3.
13, 14, 15.) The same general caution against the eflects which
should proceed from false teachers, is very plainly given by the
apostle Peter. ' But there were folse prophets also among the peo-
ple, even as there shall be false teachers among you, who privily shall
bring in damnable heresies, even denying the Lord that bought them,
and bringing upon themselves swift destruction. And many shall
foUov/ their pernicious ways, by reason of whom the way of truth
sh-ill be evil spoken of. And through covetousness shall they with
feigned words make merchandise of you, whose judgment now of a
long time lingereth not, and their damnation slumbereth not.' 2 Pet.
ii. i — 3. To these passages, and many others that might be addu-
ced, as calculated to awaken the attention of Christians to the dan
gers they should be exposed to from corrupt teachers, we may par-
iicularly add the following, as it not only foretels, but describes the
nature of the apostacy ih^t should take place, and at a period remote
from the lime when the predictions were delivered. ' Now the
spirit speakctli expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart
from the faith, giving heed to seducing spirits and doctrines of devils :
speaking lies in hypocrisy, having their consciences seared with
a hot iron ; forbidding to marry, and commanding to abstain from
Tieats, which God hath created to be received with thanksgiving of
t^^m who believe and know the truth.' 1 Tim. iv. 1 — 3. Again,
* This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come ; for
INTRODUCTION. XIA
men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, proud, blasphe-
mers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural af-
fection, truce breakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, dcspisera
of those that are good, traitors, heady, high minded, lovers of plea-
sure more than lovers of God; — having a form of godliness, but de-
nying the power thereof." 2 Tim. iii. 1 — 3. But of all the predic-
tions contained in the New Testament, the most particular and ex-
press description of the anti-christian power that should arise under
the Christian name, is the following : " Now we beseech you, bre-
thren, by the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ, and by our gathering
together unto him, that ye be not soon shaken in mind, or be trou-
bled ; neither by spirit, nor by word, nor by letter as from us, as that
the day of Christ is at hand. Let no man deceive you by any means :
for that day shall not come except there be a falling away first, and
that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition; who opposeth and
exalteth himself above all that is called God, or that is worshipped ;
so that he as God sitteth in the temple of God, showing himself that
he is God. Remember ye not, that when I was yet with you, I told
you these things ? And now ye know what withholdeth that he might
be revealed in his time. For the mystery of iniquity doth already
work ; only he who now letteth will let, until he be taken out of the
way; and then shall that wicked be revealed, whom the Lord shall
consume with the spirit of his mouth, and shall destroy with the
brightness of his coming; even him, whose coming is after the work-
ing of Satan, with all power, and signs, and lying wonders ; and with
all deceivableness of unrighteousness in them that perish ; because
they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved."
2 Thess. ii. 1—10.
" In this representation of the apostacy from the purity of the
Christian faith and its influence, which terminated in the man of sin
sitting in the temple of God, we may notice the following parti-
culars :
" 1 . That the apostle describes its origin as taking place in his
own day, ' The mystery of iniquity doth already work,' verse 7.
The seed was then sov/n ; idolatry was already stealing into thr
churches. 1 Cor. x. 14. A voluntary humility and worshipping of
angels. Col. ii. 18. Men of corrup-t minds, destitute of the truth,
supposing that gain was godliness, and teaching things which they
ought not, for filthy lucre sake. Men of this class appear to have
early abounded, and, as acting not Avholly in direct opposition to
Christianity, but corrupting it in the way of deceit and hypocrisy.
During the whole progress toAvards the full revelation of the man of
sin, there was no direct disavowal of the truth of Christianity ; it was
a form of godliness Avithout the power of it.
" 2. There is an evident intimation in this passage, of an obstacle
or hinderance in the way of this power being fully revealed. ' And
now ye know what withholdeth that he might be revealed in his timj.
For the mystery of iniquity doth already work, only he Nvho now let-
teth Avill let, until he be taken out of the way. And then shall that
wicked be revealed,' &c. ver. 6, 7. "Without going into any minute
and critical examination of these verses, it is obvious that the wicked
power which is here the subject of the apostle's discourse, and deno-
XX INTRODUCTION.
minated the man of sin, had not been fully displayed, and that there
existed some obstacle to a complete revelation of the mystery of ini-
quity. The apostle uses a particular caution when hinting at it; but
the Thessalonians, he says, knew of it; probably from the explana-
tion he had given them verbally, when he was with them. It can
scarcely be questioned, that the hinderance or obstacle, referred to in
these words, was the heathen or pagan Roman government, which
acted as a restraint upon the pride and domination of the clergy,
through whom the man of sin ultimately arrived at his power and au-
thority, as will afterwards appear. The extreme caution which the
apostle manifests in speaking of this restraint, renders it not impro-
bable that it was something relating to the higher powers ; for we
can easily conceive how improper it would have been, to declare in
plain terms that the existing government of Rome should come to an
end. There is a remarkable passage in Tertullian's Apology, thai
may serve to justify the sense which Protestants put upon these
verses ; and since it was written long before the accomplishment of
the predictions, it deserves the more attention. ' Christians,' says
he, ' are under a particular necessity of praying for the emperors, and
for the continued state of the empire ; because we know that dreadful
power which hangs over the world, and the conclusion of the age,
which threatens the most horrible evils, is restrained by the conti-
nuance of the time appointed for the Roman empire. This is what
we would not experience ; and while we pray that it may be defer-
red, we hereby show our good will to the perpetuity of the Roman
state.' From this extract, it is very manifest, that the Christians,
even in Tertullian's time, a hundred and twenty years before the pa-
gan government of Rome came to an end, looked forward to that
period as pregnant with calamity to the cause of Christ ; though it is
probable they did not accurately understand the manner in which the
evils should be brought on the church. And this, indeed, the event
proved to be the case. For while the long and harassing persecu-
tions, which were carried on by the pagan Roman emperors, con-
tinued, and all secular advantages were on the side of paganism, there
was little encouragement for any one to embrace Christianity, who
did not discern somewhat of its truth and excellence. Many of the
errors, indeed, of several centuries, the fruit of vain philosophy, paved
the way for the events which followed ; but the hinderance was not
effectually removed, until Constantine, the emperor, on professing
himself a Christian, undertook to convert the kingdom of Christ into
a kingdom of this world, by exalting the teachers of Christianity to
the same state of affluence, grandeur, and influence in the empire, as
had been enjoyed by pagan priests and secular officers in the state.
The professed ministers of Jesus having now a wide field opened to
them, for gratifying their lust of power, wealth, and dignity, the con-
nexion between the Christian faith and the cross was at an end.
Willi t followed was the kingdom of the clergy, supplanting the king-
dom of Jesus Christ.
" 3. It is worthy of observation, in what language the apostle de-
scribes the revelation of the man of sin, when this hinderance, or let,
should be removed. ' And then shall tl>at wicked be revealed ; —
whose coming is after the working of Satan, with all power, and signs.
INTRODUCTION. xxi
ttnd lying wonders, and with al! deceivableness of unrighteousness in
them that perish.' He had before described this power, and personi-
fied him as ' the son of perdition, Avho opposeth and exalteth himself
above all that is called God, or that is worshipped ; so that he as God,
sitleth in the temple of God, showing himself that he is God.'
" Every feature in this description corresponds to that of a religiou'*
power, in the assumption of divine authority, divine honours, and di •
vine Avorship ; a power which should arrogate the prerogatives of the
MOST HIGH, having its seat in the temple or house of God, and
which should be carried on by Satan's 'influence, with all deceit, hy-
pocrisy, and tyranny ; and with this corresponds the figurative repre-
sentation given of the same power : Rev. xiii. 5 — 8,"*
Thus clearly predicted in the scriptures is this mystery of iniquity,
amd of which during the apostolic days there were indications of its
having begun to work. From the time of Constantine, however, the
great obstruction, viz. Paganism, which had hitherto operated against
the full manifestation of the anti-christian power, being removed, the
current of events brought matters to that state in Avhich the man of
sin Avas fully revealed, sitting in the temple of God, and showing him-
self to be God.
The corruption of Christianity however, was not effected in a day.
Under Constantine, Christianity became the religion of the state. In
consequence of this, the power and wealth of the clergy were greatly
augmented. Contests among bishops for pre-eminence became fre-
quent, and were conducted with a spirit wholly at variance with the
genius of the gospel. Power now became an engine of support to
different factions, and the sword of persecution, which for three cen-
turies had been drawn by the pagans against the followers of Christ,
the besotted ecclesiastics employed against each other, in defence of
what was now called the " Holy Catholic Church."
After a long and violent contest between the bishops of Rome, Con-
stantinople, Antioch, and Alexandria, particularly the former tv/o, the
bishop of Rome, at length, succeeded in triumphing over all others,
being in the year 606 invested with the proud title oi universal bishop.
This may be considered as the date of the establishment of the papal
power, although this was not the period of its full growth.
The causes, which contributed to the growth of this gigantic power,
must be sought in the pages of Ecclesiastical History. It may not be
amiss, however, to notice some of the principal circumstances which
contributed to the lordly sway and extended influence of the Roman
pontiffs, and their clergy, viz : the pretended infallibility of the Pope —
the decrees of councils — the preference given to human compositions
over the Bible — the introduction of image worship — the passion for re-
lics and saints — the sale of indulgences, and free absolution — the doc-
trine of purgatory — the establishment of the order of Jesuits, and the In-
quisition. By these and other means, the papal power continued for
several centuries to gather strength, until, at length, it reached a
point to which the annals of history furnish no parallel. Whoever
ventured to lift his voice in opposition to the unwarrantable claims of
the sovereign pontiffs, or to decry the authority of their clergy, were
sure to bring down upon them a tide of papal wrath and vengeance.
♦ Jones' History of the Christian Church, p. 154, &c.
Xxii INTRODUCTION.
Previously to the reformation, many had been cruelly sacrificed for
their honest opposition to papal usurpation ; but during the progress
of that glorious revolution, and after its establishment, martyrs to the
cause of truth and gospel simplicity were increased a hundred, if not
a thousand fold.
In the following pages, the reader will find a developement of some
of the works of Popisli arrogance, cruelty, and superstition. When he
has attentively gone through the volume, let him ask himself, whethei
a system which authorizes and sanctions such cruelties can be thf
offspring of, or compatible with, the gospel of Christ Jesus ? " Bj
their fruits," says our Saviour, " shall we know them." It is no*
their words, but their works, we should consider. What quarter ol
the globe has escaped the ravages of their power? If v/elookto the
East, China and Japan, where they once bore rule, exhibit the most
cruel and bloody massacres ever heard of, because their satellites aim-
ed at political power, to the overthrow of the lawful governrn.ents. If we
look to America, where their power was supreme, we freez*^ with hor-
ror at the wanton barbarities inflicted upon the heathen. If we cast
our eyes over Europe, the seat of their authority, we again see the
like tragedies exhibited ; witness in France the massacre of St. Bar-
tholomew, the revocation of the edict of Nantz, the extermination of
the Waldenses and Albigenses, the cruel expulsions in Spain, and
above all, the cruel and bloody Inquisition, a court which they call
holy, but surely the most accursed on earth. If we turn our eyes to
England, we see the stakes in Smithfield, and the fires lighted to con-
sume the bodies of those holy martyrs, who gave up their lives coura-
geously in defence of their religion ; we sec the vile mysteries of ini-
quity discovered at the suppression of the monasteries, and the shame-
ful practices exposed, by Avhich the priests deluded the people. I
will notrecur toother persecutions, but ask: "Is this the religion of the
meek Jesus, or is it not rather the triumph of Satan over fallen man?"
We cannot more appropriately close this part of our subject, than
with the following extracts from Mr. Goring's "Thoughts on the Reve-
lations," in which he contrasts the character of our blessed Saviour,
and of those men who presume to call themselves his " substitutes on
earth."
" Jesus Christ, as one of his last acts, left mankind this new law,
'Love one another, as I have loved you; by this shall all men know
that ye are my disciples.'' Popery hates all that are not of its commu
nion, and condemns them soul and body to the pit. The blessed Sa-
viour declared his kingdom was not of this world, being spiritual ;
that he judged no man, but that the words he uttered should judge
them in the last day. The Popes claim the dominion of the wliole
earth, spiritual and temporal ; they wear a triple crown, and pretend
to judge all men. The Saviour previous to his death, condescended
to wash his disciples' feet, assuring them they should have no part in
him unless they submitted to it. The Popes, so far from submitting
to t'lis lesson of humility, arrogantly permit them to kiss their feel.
Our blessed Lord claimed not a spot upon earth, nor had he a place
where to lay his head ; to him, sufficient for the day was the evil
thereof, both with respect to food and raiment — not so the Popes ;
from their votaries they extort the scanty gains of the sweat of their
brows, go gorgeously attirod, and feed sumptuously every day. Our
INTRODUCTION.
XXUI
Saviour freely pardoned the sins of his penitent creatures without
fee or reward — the Popes presume to pardon sins ; nay, grant in-
Qulgences for committing more ; but it is for money, and the sordid
lucre of gain.
" Can any man find a resemblance in these two characters ? Is not
the counterfeit easily discovered ; and will not men blush with shame,
when they see how grossly they have been deluded by this deceiver ?
Let them but fairly read the gospel of Jesus Christ ; they will there
find he delegated liis power to no man, in the way the Popes claim
it, and thai lie alone is the intercessor between God and man, and no
man can approach God but through him."
We are convinced that there are no true Christians, who will not
agree unequivocally in the justice of the above observations. They
must be convinced that popery is absurd, superstitious, idolatrous,
and cruel ; that it darkens the understanding, and enslaves the con-
sciences of its votaries, and is as much an enemy to virtue as to
truth.
"^&.
FOX'S
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
BOOK L
aiSTOHY OF THE FIRST TEN PERSECUTIONS OF THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH,
FROM THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 67, TILL THE TIME OF CONSTANTINE
THE GREAT ; DETAILING THE LIVES AND ACTIONS OF THE PRIN-
CIPAL CHRISTIAN MARTYRS OF BOTH SEXES, IN EUROPE AND IN
AFRICA.
The dreadful martyrdoms which we are now about to describe,
arose from the persecutions of the Romans against the Christians,
in the primitive ages of the church, during the space of three hundred
years, or till the time of Constantine.
It is both wonderful and horrible, to peruse the descriptions of the
sufferings of these godly martyrs, as they are described by the ancient
historians. Their torments were as various as the ingenuity of man,
urged on by the malicious influence of Satan, could devise ; and their
numbers were truly incredible.
The first martyr to our holy religion was its blessed Founder him-
self. His history is sufficiently known, as it has been handed down
to us in the New Testament ; nevertheless, it will be proper here to
give an outline of his sufferings, and more particularly as they will be
followed by those of the apostles and evangelists. The persecutions
by the emperors took place long after the death of our Saviour.
Brief History of our Saviour.
It is known that in the reign of Herod, the angel Gabriel was sent
by divine command to the Virgin Mary. This maiden was betrothed
to a carpenter named Joseph, who resided at Nazareth, a city of Ga
lilee. The angel informed Mary how highly she was favoured of
God, and that she should conceive a son by the Holy Spirit, which
happened accordingly : for travelling to Bethlehem, to pay the capi-
tation-tax then levied, the town was so crowded that they could only
get lodgings in a stable, where Mary gave birth to our Blessed Re-
deemer, which was announced to the world by a star and an angel;
the wise men of the east saw the former, and the shepherds the latter.
After Jesus had been circumcised, he was presented in the temple
by his mother : upon which occasion Simeon exclaimed in the cele-
26 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
brated words recorded by Luke : " Lord, now lettest thou ihy ser
vant depart in peace, according to thy word, for mine eyes have seen
thy salvation," Luke ii. 29, 30.
Jesus, in his youth, disputed with the most learned doctors in the
temple, and soon after was baptized by John in the river Jordan,
when the Holy Ghost descended upon him in the form of a dove, and
a voice was heard audibly to pronounce these words : *' This is my
beloved son, in whom I am Avell pleased."
After this Christ fasted forty days and nights in the wilderness,
where he was tempted by the devil, but resisted all his allurements.
He performed his lirst miracle at Cana, in Galilee ; he likewise con-
versed with the good Samaritan, and restored to life a nobleman's dead
child. While travelling through Galilee, he restored the blind to
sight, and cured the lame, the lepers, &c. Among other bene^ olent
actions, he cured, at the pool of Bethesda, a paralytic man, who had
been lame thirty-eight years, bidding him take up his bed and walk ;
and he afterwards cured a man whose right hand was shrunk up and
withered ; with many acts of a similar nature.
When he had chosen his twelve apostles, he preached the celebra-
ted sermon upon the mount ; after which he performed several mira-
cles, particularly the feeding of the multitude, and the walking on the
surface of the sea.
On the celebration of the passover, Jesus supped with his disci-
ples : he informed them that one of them would betray him and ano-
ther deny him, and preached his farewell sermon. A multitude of
armed men soon afterwards surrounded him, and Judas kissed him,
in order to point him out to the soldiers, who were not acquainted
with his person. In the contention occasioned by the apprehension
of Jesus, Peter cut off the ear of Malchus, the servant of the high
priest, for which Jesus reproved him, and by touching the wound,
healed it. Peter and John followed Jesus to the house of Annas,
who, refusing to judge him, sent him bound to Caiaphas, where Pe-
ter denied Christ, as the latter had predicted ; but on Christ remind-
ing him of his perfidy, Peter went out and wepi bitterly.
When the council had assembled in the morning, the Jews mocked
Jesus, and the elders suborned false witnesses against him ; the prin-
cipal accusation being, that he had said, " I will destroy this temple
that is made with hands, and within three days I will build another
made without hands." Caiaphas then asked him if he was the
Christ, the son of God, or not ; being answered in the affirmative, he
was accused of blasphemy, and condemned to death by Pontius Pilate,
the Roman governor, who, though conscious of his innocence, yield-
ed to the solicitations of the Jews, and condemned him to be cruci-
fied. His remarkable expression at the time of passing sentence,
proved how much he was convinced that the Lord was persecuted.
Previous to the crucifixion, the Jews, by way of derision, clothed
Christ in a regal robe, put a crown of thorns upon his head, and a
reed, for a sceptre, in his hand ; they then mocked him with ironical
compliments, spit in his face, slapped his cheek, and taking the reed
out of his hand, they struck him with it upon the head. Pilate would
fain have released him, but the general cry was. Crucify him, crucify
him ; which occasioned the governor to call for a basin of water, and
having washed his hands, he declared himself innocent of the blood of
OUR BLESSED SAVIOUR. 27
Christ, whom he termed a just person. But the Jews said, Lei his
blood be upon us, and our children ; and the governor found himsell
obliged to comply with their wishes, which wish has manifestly taken
place, as they have never since been a collected people.
While leading Christ to the place of crucifixion, they obliged him
to bear the cross, which being afterwards unable to sustain, they com-
pelled one Simon, a native of Cyrenia, to carry it the rest of the way.
Mount Calvary was fixed on for the place of execution, where, having
arrived, the soldiers offered him a mixture of gall and vinegar to
drink, which he refused. Having stripped him, they nailed him tc»
the cross, and crucified him between two malefactors. After being
fastened to the cross, he uttered this benevolent prayer for his ene-
mies: "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." The
soldiers who crucified him, being four in number, now cut his mantle
to pieces, and divided it between them ; but his coat being without a
seam, they cast lots for it. Whilst Christ remained in the agonies of
death, the Jews mocked him, and said, " If thou art the Son of God,
come down from the cross." The chief priests and scribes also re-
viled him, and said, "He saved others, but cannot save himself."
One of the criminals who was crucified with him, also cried out, and
said, " If you are the Messiah, save yourself and us;" but the other
malefactor, having great faith, exclaimed, " Lord, remember me when
thou comest into thy kingdom." To which Christ replied, " This
day shalt thou be with me in paradise."
When Christ was upon the cross, the earth was covered with dark-
ness, and the stars appeared at noon-day, which struck the people,
and even the Jews, Avith terror. In the midst of his tortures, Christ
cried out, " My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me ?" and
then expressed a desire to drink ; when one of the soldiers gave him,
upon the point of a reed, a sponge dipped in vinegar, which, however,
he refused. About three o'clock in the afternoon he gave up the
ghost, and at that time a violent earthquake happened, when the rocks
were rent, the mountains trembled, and the dead were thrown up from
their graves. These signal prodigies attended the death of Clirist,
and such was the mortal end of the Redeemer of mankind.
THE LIVES, SUFFERINGS, AND MARTYRDOM OF THE APOSTLES,
EVANGELISTS, «fcc.
I. Stephen,
Who was the first in the " noble company of martyrs," was elect-
ed, with six others, as a deacon out of the Lord's seventy disciples.
He was an able and successful preacher. The principal persons be
longing to five Jewish synagogues entered into many altercations
with him ; but he, by the soundness of his doctrine, and the strength
of his arguments, overcame them all, which so much irritated them,
that they bribed false witnesses to accuse him of blaspheming God
and Moses. On being carried before the council, he made a noble
defence : but that so much exasperated his judges, that they resolved
to condemn him. At thi-s instant, Stephen saw a vision from heaven,
which represented Jesus, in his glorified state, sitting at the right hend
2S BOOK OF MARTYRS.
of God, This vision so greatly rejoiced him, that he exclaimed, ip
raptures, " Behold, I see the heavens open, and the Son of Man
standing on the right hand of God." This caused him to be con-
demned, and, having dragged him out of the city, they stoned him to
death. On the spot where he was martyred, Eudocia, the empress
of the Emperor Theodosius, erected a superb church.
The death of Stephen was succeeded by a severe persecution in Je-
rusalem, in which 2000 Christians, with Nicanor the deacon, were
martyred, and many others obliged to leave that country.
II. James the Great,
Was a Galilean, and the son oT Zebedee, a fisherman, the elder
brother of John, and a relation to Christ himself; for his mother Sa-
lome was cousin-german to the Virgin Mary. Being one day with
his father fishing in the sea of Galilee, he and his brother John were
called by our Saviour to become his disciples. They cheerfully
obeyed the mandate, and leaving their father, followed Jesus. It is
to be observed, that Christ placed a greater confidence in them than
in any other of the apostles, Peter excepted.
Christ called these brothers Boanerges, or the Sons of Thunder, on
account of their vigorous minds, and impetuous tempers.
When Herod Agrippa was made governor of Judea, by the Emperor
Caligula, he raised a persecution against the Christians, and particu-
larly singled out James as an object of his vengeance. This martyr,
on being condemned to death, showed such an intrepidity of spirit,
and constancy of mind, that even his accuser was struck with admi-
ration, and iiecame a convert to Christianity. This transition so en-
raged the people in power, that they condemned him likewise to death ;
when James the apostle and his penitent accuser were both beheaded
on the same day, and with the same sword. These events took place
in the year of Christ 44,
About the same period, Timon and Parmenas, two of the seven dea-
cons, sufl^ered martyrdom, the former at Corinth, and the latter at
Philippi, in Macedonia.
III. Philip,
The apostle and martyr, was born at Bethsaida, in Galilee, and
was the first called by the name of Disciple. He was employed in
several important commissions by Christ, and being deputed to preach
m Upper Asia, laboured very diligently in his apostleship. He then
travelled mto Phrygia, and arriving at Heliopolis, found thn inhabit-
ants so sunk in idolatry as to worship a large serpent. Philip, how-
ever, converted many of them to Christianity, and even procured the
death of the serpent. This so enraged the magistrates, that they
committed him to prison, had him severely scourged, and afterwards
crucified. His friend, Bartholomew, found an opportunity of taking
down the body and burying it; for which, however, he was very
near suficring the same fate. His martyrdom happened eight years
afterlhat of James the Great, A. D. 52.
IV. Matthew,
The evangelist, apostle, and martyr, was born at Nazareth, in Gali-
lee, lait resided chiefly at Capernaum, on account of his business
Which was that of a toll-gatherer, to collect tribute of such as had oc
THE APOSTLES, &c.
29
casion to pass the sea of Galilee. On being called as a discij)le, he
immediately complied, and left every thing to follow Christ. After
the ascension of his master, he continued preaching the gospel in Ju-
dea about nine years. Intending to Iccve Judea, in order to go and
preach among the Gentiles, he wrote his gospel in Hebrew, for the
use of his Jewish converts ; but it was afterwards translated into
Greek by James the Less. He then went to Ethiopia, ordained'
preachers, settled churches, and made many converts. He after-
wards proceeded to Parthia, where he had the same success ; but re-
turning to Ethiopia, he was slain by a halberd, in the city of Nadabar,
about the year of Christ 60.
V. Mark,
The evangelist and martyr, was born of Jewish parents, of the tribe
of Levi. It is imagined, that he was converted to Christianity by Pe-
ter, whom he served as an amanuensis, and whom he attended in all
his travels. Being entreated by the converts at Rome, to commit to
writing the admirable discourses they had heard from Peter and him-
self, he com.plied with this request, and composed his gospel accord-
ingly in the Greek language. He then went to Egypt, and after-
wards proceeded to Lybia, where he made many converts. On re-
turning to Alexandria, some of the Egyptians, exasperated at his suc-
cess, determined on his death. They therefore tied his feet, dragged
him through the streets, left him bruised in a dungeon all night, and
the next day burned his body.
VI. James the Less,
The. apostle and martyr, was called so, to distinguish him from
James the Great. He was the son, by a first wife, of Joseph, the re-
puted father of Christ : he was, after the Lord's ascension, elected to
the oversight of the church of Jerusalem : he wrote his general epis-
tles to all Christians and converts whatever, to suppress a dangerous
error then propagating, viz. " That a faith in Christ was alone suf-
hcient for salvation, without good works." The Jews, beintr at this
time greatly enraged that Paul had escaped their fury, by appealing
to Kome, determined to wreak their vengeance on James, who was
now ninety-four years of age : they accordingly threw him down,
beat, bruised, and stoned him ; and then dashed out his brains with a
club, such as was used by fullers in dressing cloth.
VII. Matthias,
The apostle and martyr, was called to the apostleship after the death
of Christ, to supply the vacant place of Judas who had betrayed his
master, and was likewise one of the seventy disciples. He was mar-
tyred at Jerusalem, being first stoned and then beheaded.
VIII. Andrew,
The apostle and martyr, was the brother of Peter, and preached the
gospel to many Asiatic nations. On arriving at Edessa, the governor
of the country, named Egeas, threatened him for preaching against
the idols there worshipped. Andrew persisting in the propagation of
his doctrines, he was ordered to be crucified on a cross, two ends of
which were transversely fixed in the ground. He boldly told his ac-
cusers, that he would not have preached t'le glory of the cross, had he
so BOOK OF MARTYRS,
feared to die on it. And again, when they came to cnicify him, he
said, that he coveted the cross, and longed to embrace it. He was
fastened to the cross, not with nails, but cords, that his deatli might be
more slow. In this situation he continued two days, preaching the
greatest part of the time to the people, when he expired.
IX. Peter,
The great apostle and martyr, was born at Bethsaida, in Galilee,
being the son of Jonah, a fisherman, which employment Peter himself
followed. He was persuaded by his brother to turn Christian, when
Christ gave him the name of Cephas, implying, in the Syriac lan-
guage, a rock. He was called at the same time as his brother, to be
an apostle ; gave uncommon proofs of his zeal for the service of
Christ, and always appeared as the principal speaker among the apos-
tles. He had, however, the weakness to deny his master, after his
apprehension, though he defended him at the time. But after the
death of Christ, the Jews still continued to persecute the Christians,
and ordered several of the apostles, among whom was Peter, to be
scourged. This punishment they bore with the greatest fortitude,
and rejoiced that they were thought worthy to suffer for the sake of
their Redeemer.
When Herod Agrippa caused James the Great to be put to death,
and found that it pleased the Jews, he resolved, in order to ingratiate
himself with the people, that Peter should fall the next sacrifice. He
was accordingly apprehended, and thrown into prison ; but an angel
of the Lord released him, which so enraged Herod, that he ordered
the sentinels who guarded the dungeon in which he had been confined,
to be put to death. Peter, after various other miracles, retired to
Rome, where he defeated all the artifices, and confounded the magic,
of Simon, the magician, a great favourite of the emperor Nero ; he
likewise converted to Christianity one of the concubines of that mon-
arch, which so exasperated the tyrant, that he ordered both Peter and
Paul to be apprehended. During the time of their confinement, they
converted two of the captains of the guards, and forty-seven other
persons, to Christianity. Having been nine months in prison, Peter
was brought out from thence for execution, when, after being severely
scourged, he was crucified with his head downwards ; which position,
Tiowever, was at his own request.
X. Paul,
The apostle and martyr, was a Jew of the tribe of Benjamin, born a
Tarsus in Cilicia, and, before his conversion, was called Saul. He
was at first a great enemy to, and persecutor of the Christians ; and a
principal promoter of the death of Stephen. While on his way to
Damascus, the glory of the Lord came suddenly upon him, he was
struck to the earth, and was alllicted with blindness during three days ;
on his recovery from which, he immediately became a professor, an
apostle, and ultimately a martyr for the religion which he had former-
ly persecuted. Amongst his labours in spreading the doctrine of
Christ, he converted to the failhSergius Paulus, the proconsul of Cy-
prus, on wliich he took his name, and as some suppose, was from
thence called Paulus instead of Saulus. After his many labours he
took to hira Barnabas, and went up to Jerusalem, to Peter, James,
THE APOSTLES, &c 51
and John, where he was ordained, and sent out with Barnabas U
preach to the Gentiles. At Iconium, Paul and Barnabas were neai
being stoned to death by the enraged Jews ; upon which they fled to
Lycaonia. At Lystra, Paul was stoned, dragged out of the city, anc
left for dead. He, however, happily revived, and escaped to Derbe
At Philippi, Paul and Silas were imprisoned and whipped ; and botl
were again persecuted at Thessalonica. Being afterwards taken at
Jerusalem, he was sent to Ca^sarea, but appealed to Ctesar at Rome.
Here he continued a prisoner at large for two years ; and, at length be-
ing released, he visited the churches of Greece and Rome, and preach-
ed in France and Spain. Returning to Rome, he was again appre-
hended, and, by the order of Nero, martyred, by being beheaded.
XI. Jude,
The apostle and martyr, the brother of James, was commonly called
Thaddeus. Being sent to Edessa, he wrought many miracles, and
made many converts, which stirring up the resentment of the people
'Ji power, he was crucified about the year 72.
XII. Bartholomew,
The apostle and martyr, preached in several countries, performed
many miracles, and healed various diseases. He translated Mat-
thew's gospel into the Indian language, and propagated it in that
country ; but at length the idolaters growing impatient with his doc-
trines, severely beat, crucified, and slew him, and then cut off his
head.
XIII. Thomas,
Was called by this name in Syriac, but Didymus in Greek ; he was
an apostle and martyr, and preached in Parthia and India, where, dis-
pleasing the Pagan priests, he was martyred by being thrust through
with a spear.
XIV. Luke the Evangelist,
Was the author of a most excellent gospel. He travelled with
Paul to Rome, and preached to divers barbarous nations, till the priests
in Greece hanged him on an olive tree.
XV. Simon,
The apostle and martyr, was distinguished, from his zeal, by the
name of Zelotes. He preached with great success in Mauritania,
and other parts of Africa, and even in Britain, where, though he made
many converts, he was crucified, A. D. 74.
XVI. Joh7i,
Was distinguished for being a prophet, apostle, divine, evangelist,
and martyr. He is called the beloved disciple, and was brother to
James the Great. He was previously a disciple of John the Baptist,
and afterwards not only one of the twelve apostles, but one of the
three to whom Christ communicated the most secret passages of his
life. He founded churches at Smyrna, Pergamus, Sardis, Philadel-
phia, Laodicea, and Thyatira, to whom he directs his book of Revela-
tion. Being at Ephesus, he was ordered by the Emperor Domitian to
be sent bound to Rome, where he was condemned to be cast into a
cauhlrnn of boiling oil But here a miracle appeared in his favour;
32 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
the oil did him no injury, and Domitian, therefore, not being able to
put him to death, banished him to Patmos, to work in the mines. He
was, however, recalled by Nerva, who succeeded Domitian ; but was
deemed a martyr, on account of his having undergone an execution,
though it did not take effect. He wrote his epistles, gospel, and reve-
lations, all in a different s'.yle ; but they are all equally admired. He
was the only apostle who escaped a violent death, and lived the long-
est of any of them, being nearly 100 years of age at the time of his
death.
XVII. Barndbas;
Was a native of Cyprus, but of Jewish parents ; the time of his
death ii uncertain, but it is supposed to be about the year of Christ 73.
THE FIRST PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION UNDER NERO.
The first persecution, in the primitive ages of the church, was begun
by that cruel tyrant Nero Domitius, the sixth emperor of Rome, A. D.
67. This monarch reigned, for the space of five years, with tolerable
credit to himself, but then gave way to the greatest extravagancy of
temper, and to the most atrocious barbarities. Among other diabo-
lical outrages, he ordered that the city of Rome shouldlje set on fire,
which was done by his ofiicers, guards, and servants. While the city
was in flames, he went up to the tower of Mfecenas, played upon his
harp, sung the song of the burning of Troy, and declared, " That he
wished the ruin of all things before his death." Among the noble
buildings burnt was the circus, or place appropriated to horse-races.
It was half a mile in length, of an oval form, with rows of seats rising
above each other, and capable of receiving, with ease, upwards of
100,000 spectators. Many other palaces and houses were consumed ;
and several thousands of the people perished in the flames, were
smothered, or buried beneath the ruins.
This dreadful conflagration continued nine days ; Avhen Nero, find-
ing that his conduct was greatly blamed, and a severe odium cast
upon him, determined to lay the Avhole upon the Christians, at once
to excuse himself, and have an opportunity of witnessing new cruel-
ties. The barbarities exercised upon the Christians, during the first
persecution, were such as excited the commiseration of the Romans
themselves. Nero even refined upon cruelty, and contrived all man-
ner of punishments for the Christians. In particular, he had some
sewed up in the skins of wild beasts, and then worried by dogs till
they expired ; and others dressed in shirts made stiff with wax, fixed
to axle-trees, and set on fire in his gardens. Tliis persecution was
general throughout the whole Roman empire; but it rather increased
than diminished the spirit of Christianity. In the course of it, Paul
and Peter were martyred ; and to their names may be added Erastus,
chamberlain of Corinth, Aristarchus, the Macedonian, Trophimus,
an Ephesian, converted by Paul, and fellow-labourer with him, Jo-
seph, commonly called Barsabas, and Ananias, a preacher in Da-
mascus.
Ignatus given to Lions. Page 34.
Perpetua and Felicitas. Page 40.
SEo-OND PRIMITIVE PERSECUTluN.
THK SECOND PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION, UNDER DOMITIAN.
Domitian came to the throne A. D. 81, having slain his brother Ti
tus, the reigning emperor. In his temper he strongly resembled
Nero ; yet he spared the Christians until the year 95, when he com
menced the general persecution. His rage was such, that he even
put to death many of the Roman senators ; some through malice, and
others to confiscate their estates ; after which he commanded all the
lineage of David to be extirpated. Two Christians were brought be-
fore him, accused of being of the tribe of Judah, and line of David ;
but from their answers he despised them as idiots, and dismissed them
accordingly. He, however, was determined to be more secure upon
other occasions ; for he took away the property of many Christians,
put several to death, and banished others.
Amongst the numerous martyrs that suffered during this persecu-
tion, was Simeon, bishop of Jerusalem, who was crucified ; and the
apostle John, who Avas boiled in oil, and afterwards banished to Pat-
mos. Flavia, the daughter of a Roman senator, Avas likewise banish-
ed to Pontus ; and a law Avas enacted, " That no Christian, once
brought before an appropriate tribunal, should be exempted from
punishment, without renouncing his religion."
During this reign, there Avcre a variety of tales, composed in order
to injure the Christians. Among other falsehoods, they were accused
of indecent nightly meetings, of a rebellious turbulent spiiit; cf be-
irg inimical to the Roman empire ; of murdering their children, and
even of being cannibals ; and at this time, such was the infatuation of
the pagans, that if famine, pestilence, or earthquakes, afflicted any of
the Roman provinces, these calamities were said to be manifestations
of the divine wrath, occasioned by their impieties. These persecu-
tions increased the number of informers ; and many, for the sake of
gain, swore away the lives of the innocent. When any Christians
were brought before the magistrates, a test oath was proposed, when,
if they refused it, death was pronounced against them; and if they
confessed themselves Christians, the sentence was the same. The
various kinds of punishments and inflicted cruelties w^ere, imprison-
ment, racking, searing, broiUng, burning, scourging, stoning, hanging,
and worrying. Many were torn piecemeal with red hot pincers, and
others were thrown upon the horns of wild bulls. After having suf-
fered these cruelties, the friends of the deceased were refused th*
privilege of burning their remains.
^ The following were the most remarkable of the numerous martyrs
'.vho suffered during this persecution.
Dionysius, the Areopagitc, an Athenian by birth, and educated in all
the useful and ornamental literature of Greece. From Greece, he
travelled into Egypt, where he devoted himself to the study of astro-
nomy, and made very particular observations on the great and super-
natural eclipse, which happened at the time of our Saviour's cruci-
fixion. On his return to Athens, he became a convert to Christianity,
and Avas appointed bishop of that city. This office he continued to
discharge Avith great fidelity and acceptance, till Domitian's perso-
cuting spirit brought him to the block.
Timothy, the celebrated disciple of Paul, and bishop of Ephesu*
so suffered during this persecution, about the year 97. During the
3
34 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
celebration of a pagan festival, called Catagogion, this holy man,
meeting a procession, composed of an idolatrous r«ultitude, severely
reproved them, for ridiculous and wicked conduct ; upon which, un
der a high wrought excitement, they fell upon him with clubs, and
beat him in so cruel a manner, that he expired of the bruises two days
after.
Many other distinguished and piov5 men, under various tortures,
were, during this persecution, brought to the grave, but brevity re-
quires us to omit a particular mention of them.
THE THIRD PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION, UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS.
Between the second and third Roman persecution was but one year.
Upon Nerva succeeding Domitian, he gave a respite to the Christians ;
but reigning only thirteen months, his successor Trajan, in the tenth
year of his reign, and in A. D. 108, began the third persecution against
them. While the persecution raged, Plinius Secundus, a heathen
philosopher, wrote to the emperor in favour of Christians, stating that
he found nothing objectionable in their conduct; and that "the whole
sum of their error consisted in this, that they were wont at certain
times appointed, to meet before day, and to sing certain hymns to one
Christ, their God ; and to confederate among themselves, to abstain
from all theft, murder, and adultery ; to keep their faith, and to
defraud no man ; which done, then to depart for that time, and
afterwards to resort again to take meat in companies together, both
men and women, one with another, and yet without any act of e^;^7,"
To this epistle Trajan returned this indecisive answer: "That Chris-
tians ought not to be sought after, but when brought before the ma-
gistracy they should be punished." This reply of the emperor,
vague as it was, occasioned the persecution in some measure to abate,
as his officers were uncertain, if they carried it on with severity, how
he might choose to interpret his letter. Trajan, however, soon after
wrote to Jerusalem, and gave orders to exterminate the stock of Da-
vid ; in consequence of which, all that could be found of that race
were put to death.
Phocas, bishop of Pontus, refusing to sacrifice to Neptune, was,
by the imm.ediate order of Trajan, cast first into a hot lime-kiln, and
being drawn from thence, was thrown into a scalding bath till he ex-
pired.
Trajan likewise commanded the martyrdom of Ignatius, bishop of
Antioch. This holy man, it is snid, was the person whom, when an
infant, Christ took into his arms and showed to his disciples, as one
that would be a pattern of humility and innocence. He received the
gospel afterwards from John the Evangelist, and was exceedingly
zealous in his mission. He boldly vindicated the faith of Christ be-
fore the emperor, for which he was cast into prison, and was torment-
ed in a cruel manner ; for, after being dreadfully scourged, he was
compelled to hold fire in his hands, and at the same time, papers dipped
in oil were put to his sides, and set alight. His flesh was then torn
with red-hot pincers, and ut last he was despatched by being torn to
pieces b)'^ v/ild beasts.
FOURTH PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION. 35
Symphorosa, a v/idow, and her seven sons, were commanded by
Trajan to sacrifice to the heathen deities. Refusing to comply with
the impious request, the emperor, greatly exasperated, ordered her to
be carried to the temple of Hercules, Avhere she was scourged, and
hung up for some time by the hair of the head : then a large stone
was fastened to her neck, and she was thrown into the river. Her
sons were fastened to seven posts, and being drawn up by the pulleys,
their limbs were dislocated ; these tortures not affecting their resolu-
tion, they were thus martyred. Crescentius, the eldest, was stabbed
in the throat ; Julian, the second, in the breast ; Nemesius, the third,
in the heart ; Primitius, the fourth, in the navel ; Justice, the fifth, in
the back ; Stacteus, the sixth, in the side ; and Eugenius, the young-
est, was sawed asunder.
Trajan died in the year 117, and was succeeded by Adrian, during
whose reign of 21 years, the condition of the church was, upon the
whole, less distressing than during the reign of his predecessor. Yet,
hi the first years of Adrian, the persecution went on, and many illus-
trious men, and more still humbler disciples of Christ, fell victims to
his cruel lav/s, which had been passed by Trajan, and which con-
tinued unrepealed for several years.
At length Quadratus, bishop of Athens, made a learned apology in
favour of Christians before the emperor^ Adrian, who happened to be
there ; and Aristides, a philosopher of the same city, wrote an elegant
epistle, which caused Adrian to relax in his severities, and relent in
their favour. He indeed went so far as to Eommand, that no Chris-
tian should be punished on the score of religion or opinion only ; but
this gave other pretexts to the Jews and pagans, to persecute them ;
for then they began to employ and suborn false witnesses, to accuse
them of crimes against the state or civil authority.
Adrian died in the year 138, and Avas succeeded by Antoninus Pius,
so amiable a monarch, that his people gave him the title of " The Fa-
ther of Virtues." Immediately upon his accession to the throne, he
published an edict concluding with these words : " If any hereafter
shall vex or trouble the Christians, having no other cause but that
they are such, let the accused be released and the accusers be pu-
nished." This stopped the persecution, and the Christians enjoyed
a respite from their sufferings during this emperor's reign, though
their enemies took every occasion to do them what injuries they
could. . The piety and goodness of Antoninus were so great, that he
used to say, that he had rather save one citizen, than destroy a thou-
sand of his adversaries.
THE FOURTH PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION, UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS,
WHICH COMMENCED A. D. 162.
Antoninus Pius, was succeeded by Marcus Aurelius Antoninus
Verus, who began the fourth persecution, in which many Cliristians
were martyred, particularly in several parts of Asia, and in France.
Such were the cruelties used in this persecution, that many of the
spectators shuddered with horror at the sight, and were astonished at
the intrepidity of the sufl'erers. Some of the martyrs were obliged to
36 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
pass, with their already wounded feet, over thorns, nails, sharp shells
&c. others were scourged till their sinews and veins lay bare ; and
after suffering the most excruciating tortures, they were destroyed by
the most terrible deaths.
Germanicus, a young and true Christian, being delivered to the
wild beasts on account of his faith, behaved with such astonishing
courage, that several pagans became converts to a faith which inspi-
red such fortitude. This enraged others so much, that they cried out,
he merited death ; and many of the multitude Avondering at this be-
loved martyr for his constancy and virtue, began suddenly to cry with
a loud voice, saying, " Destroy the wicked men, let Polycarpus be
sought for." And whilst a great uproar and tumult began to be raised
upon those cries, a certain Phrygian, named Quintus, lately arrived
from his country, was so afflicted at the sight of the wild beasts, that
he rushed to the judgment-seat, and upbraided the judges, for which
he was put to death.
Polycarpus, bishop of Smyrna, the disciple and pupil of the apos-
tle John, now in the 87th year of his age, and 27th of his ministry, hear-
ing that he was sought after, escaped, but was discovered by a child.
From this circumstance, and having dreamed that his bed suddenly
became on fire, and was consumed in a moment, he concluded that it
was God's will that he should suffer martyrdom. He therefore did
not attempt to make a second escape when he had an opportunity of
so doing. Those who apprehended him were amazed at his serene
countenance and gravity. After feasting them, he desired an hour for
prayer, which being allowed, he prayed with such fervency, that his
guards repeated they had been instrumental in taking him. He was,
however, carried before the pro-consul, condemned, and conducted
to the market-place. Wood being provided, the holy man earnestly
prayed to heaven, after being bound to the stake ; and as the flame's
grew vehement, the executioners gave way on both sides, the heat
DOW becoming intolerable. In the mean time, the bishop sung praises
to God in the midst of the flames, but remained unconsumed therein,
and the burning of the wood spreading a fragrance around, the guards
were much surprised. Determined, however, to put an end to his
life, they stuck spears into his body, when the quantity of blood that
issued from the wounds extinguished the flames. After considerable
attempts, however, they put him to death, and burnt his body when
dead, not being able to consume it while alive. This extraordinary
event had such an effect upon the people, that they began to adore the
martyr ; and the pro-consul was admonished not to deliver his body,
lest the people should leave Christ, and begin to worship him.
Twelve other Christians, who had been intimate with Polycarpus,
were soon after martyred.
Felicitatas, an illustrious Roman lady, of a considerable family,
and great virtues, was a devout Christian. She had seven sons, whom
she had educated with tlie most exemplary piety. The empire hav-
ing been about this time grievously troubled with earthquakes, famine,
inundations, <fec. the Christians were accused as the cause, and Felici-
tatas was included in the accusation. The lady and her family being
seized, the emperor gave orders to Publius, the Roman governor, to
proceed against her. Upon this Publius began with the mother,
thinking that if he could prevail with her to change her religion, the
FOURTH PRIMITIVE PERSECUTION. 37
example would have great influence with her sons. Finding her in-
flexible, he turned his entreaties to menaces, and threatened her with
destruction to herself and family. She despised his threats as she had
done his promises ; he then caused her sons to be brought before him,
whom he examined separately. They all, however, remained stead-
fast in their faith, and unanimous in their opinions, on which the
whole family were ordered for execution. Januarius, the eldest, was
scourged and pressed to death with weights ; Felix and Philip, the
two next, had their brains dashed out with clubs ; Sylvanus, the fourth,
was murdered by being thrown from a precipice ; and the three young-
er sons, viz. Alexander, Vitalis, and Martialis, were all beheaded.
The mother was beheaded with the same sword as the three latter.
Jus(in, the celebrated philosopher, fell a martyr in this persecu-
tion. He was a native of Neapolis, in Samaria, and was born A. D.
103. He had the best education those times could aflxjrd, and travel-
led into Egypt, the country where the polite tour of that age was made
for improvement. At Alexandria he was informed of every thing re-
lative to the seventy interpreters of the sacred writings, and shewn the
rooms, or rather cells, in which their work was performed. Justin
was a great lover of truth, and an universal scholar; he investigated
the Stoic and Peripatetic philosophy, and attempted the Pythagorean
system ; but the behaviour of one of its professors disgusting him, he
applied himself to the Platonic, in which he took great delight. About
the year 133, when he was thirty years of age, he became a convert
to Christianity. Justin wrote an elegant epistle to the Gentiles, to
convert them to the faith he had newly acquired, and lived in so pure
and innocent a manner, that he well deserved the title of a Christian
philosopher. He likewise employed his talents in convincing the
Jews of the truth of the Christian rites, and spent much time in tra-
velling, till he took up his abode in Rome, and fixed his habitation on
the Viminal mount. He kept a pubhc school, taught many who af-
terwards became great men, and wrote a treatise to confute heresies
of all kinds. As the pagans began to treat the Christians with great
severity, Justin wrote his first apology in their favour, and addressed
it to the Emperor Antoninus, to two princes whom he had adopted as
his sons, and to the senate and people of Rome in general. This
piece, which occasioned the emperor to publish an edict in favour of
the Christians, displays great learning and genius.
A short time after, he entered into frequent contests Avith Crescens,
a person of vicious life, but a celebrated cynic philosopher ; and his
arguments appeared so powerful, yet disgusting to the cynic, that he
resolved on his destruction, which, in the sequel, he accomplished.
The second apology of Justin was occasioned by the following cir-
cumstances : a man and his wife, who were both bad livers, resided
at Rome. The Avoman, however, becoming a convert to Christianity,
attempted to reclaim her husband ; but not succeeding, she sued fi)r
a divorce, which so exasperated him, that he accused her of being a
Christian. Upon her petition, however, he dropped the prosecution,
and levelled his malice at Ptolemeus, who had converted her. Ptole-
meus was condemned to die ; and one Lucius, Avith another person,
for expressing themselves too freely upon the occasion, met Avith the
same fate. Justin's apology upon these severities gave Crescens an
opportunity of prejudicing the ernneror against the Avriier of it; upon
38 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
which Justin and six of his companions were apprehended. Being
commanded, as usual, to deny their faith, and sacrifice to the pagan
idols, they refused to do either ; they were, therefore, condemned to
be first scourged and then beheaded.
Some of the restless northern nations having risen in arms against
Rome, the emperor marched to encounter them. He was, however,
drawn into an ambuscade, and dreaded the loss of his whole army.
Enveloped with mountains, surrounded by enemies, and perishing
with thirst, the pagan deities were invoked in vain ; when the men
belonging to the militine, or thundering legion, who were all Chris-
tians, were commanded to call upon their God for succour. A mira-
culous deliverance immediately ensued; a prodigious quantity of rain
fell, Avhich, being caught by the men, and filling the dykes, alTorded
a sudden and astonishing relief. It appears that the storm Avhich
miraculously flashed in the faces of the enemy, so intimidated them,
that part deserted to the Roman army ; the rest were defeated, and
the revolted provinces entirely recovered.
This affair occasioned the persecution to subside for some time, at
least in those parts immediately under the inspection of the emperor;
but we find that it soon after raged in France, particularly at Lyons,
where the tortures to which many of the Christians were put, almost
exceed the powers of description.
The principal of these martyrs were Vetius Agathus, a young man ,
Blandinia, a Christian lady, of a weak constitution ; Sanctus, a dea-
con of Vienna; red-hot plates of brass were placed upon the tenderest
parts of his body ; Biblius, a weak woman, once an apostate ; Atta-
ins, of Pergamus ; and Pothinus, the venerable bishop of Lyons, who
was ninety years of age-
When the Christians, upon these occasions, received martyrdom,
they Avere ornamented, and crowned with garlands of flowers ; for
which they, in heaven, received eternal crowns of glory.
The torments were various ; and, exclusive of those already men-
tioned, the martyrs of Lyons Avere compelled to sit in red-hot iron
chairs till their flesh broiled. This was inflicted with peculiar seve-
rity on Sanctus, already mentioned, and some others. Some were
sewed up in nets, and thrown on the horns of wild bulls •, and the
carcasses of those who died in prison, previous to the appointed time
of execution, were thrown to dogs. Indeed, so far did the malice ol
the pagans proceed, that they set guards over the bodies Avhile the
beasts were devouring them, lest the friends of the dr* cased should
get them away by stealth ; and the ofials left by the jiogs were or-
dered to be burnt.
The martyrs of Lyons, according to the best accounts we could ob-
tain, who suflfered for the gospel, were forty-eight in number, and their
executions happened in the year of Christ 177.
Epipodius and Alexander were celebrated for their great friendship,
and their Christian union with each other. The first was born at
Lyons, the latter at Greece. Epipodius, being compassionated by
the governor of Lyons, and exhorted to join in their festive pagan
worship, replied, "Your pretended tenderness is actually cruelty ;
and the agreeable life you describe is replete wifh everlasting death.
Christ suflfered for us, that our pleasures should be immortal, and hath
prepared for his followers an eternity of bliss. The frame of man be
FIFTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 89
ing composed of two parts, body and soul, the first, as mean and pe-
rishable, should be rendered subservient to the interests of the last.
Your idolatrous feasts may gratify the mortal, but they injure the im-
mortal part ; that cannot therefore be enjoying life which destroys
the most valuable moiety of your frame. Your pleasures lead to eter-
nal death, and our pains to perpetual happiness " Epipodius was se-
verely beaten, and then put to the rack, upon which being stretched,
his flesh was torn with iron hooks. Having borne his torments with
incredible patience and unshaken fortitude, he was taken from the
rack, and beheaded.
Valerian and Marcellus, who were nearly related to each other,
were imprisoned at Lyons, in the year 177, for being Christians.
The father was fixed up to the waist in the giiound ; in which posi-
tion, after remaining three days, he expired, A. D. 179. Valerian
was beheaded.
Apollonius, a Roman senator, an accomplished gentleman, and a
sincere Christian, suffered under Commodus, because he would not
worship him as Hercules.
Eusebius, Vincentius, Potentianus, Peregrinus, and Julius, a Roman
senator, were martyred on the same account.
THE FIFTH GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS.
The Emperor Commodus, who had succeeded his father Antoninus
in 180, dying in the year 191, was succeeded by Pertinax, and he by
Julianus, both of whom reigned but a short time. On the death of
the last, Severus became emperor in the year 192. When he had
been recovered from a severe fit of sickness by a Christian, he be-
came a great favourer of Christians in general ; and even permitted
his son Caracalla to be nursed by a female of that persuasion.
Hence, during the reigns of the emperors already mentioned, who
successively succeeded Commodus, and some years of the latter's
reign, the Christians had a respite for several years from persecution.
But the prejudice and fury of the ignorant multitude again prevailed,
and the obsolete laws were put in execution against the Christians.
The pagans were alarmed at the progress of Christianity, and revived
the calumny of placing accidental misfortunes to the account of its
professors. Fire, sword, wild beasts, and imprisonments, v/ere re-
sorted to ; and even the dead bodies of Christians were torn from
their graves, and subjected to every insult; yet the gospel withstood
the attacks of its boisterous enemies. Tertullian, who lived in this
age, informs us, that if the Christians had collectively withdrawn
themselves from the Roman territories, the empire would have been
greatly depopulated.
Victor, bishop of Rome, suffered martyrdom in the first year of
the third century, viz. A. D. 201, though the circumstances are not
ascertained.
Leonidas, the father of the celebrated Origen, was beheaded for
being a Christian. Previous to the execution, the son, in order to
sncoiH-age him, wrote to him in these remarkable words : " Beware
40 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Sir, that your care for us does not make you change your resolution."
Many of Origen's hearers Ukewise suffered martyrdom.
Among those who suffered during this persecution was also the
venerable Irenaeus, bishop of Lyons, Avho Avas born in Greece, and
received a Christian education. It is generally supposed that the ac-
count of the persecutions at Lyons was written by himself. He suc-
ceeded the martyr Pothynus as bishop of Lyons, and ruled his diocese
with great propriety ; he was a zealous opposer of heresies in gene-
ral, and wrote a celebrated tract against heresy about A. D. 187.
Victor, the bishop of Rome, wanting to impose a particular mode
of keeping Easter there, it occasioned some disorders among the
Christians. In particular, Irenaeus wrote him a synodical epistle in
the name of the Gallic churches. This zeal in favour of Christianity,
pointed him out as an object of resentment to the emperor ; and he
was accordingly beheaded in A. D. 202.
Persecutions in Africa.
The persecutions about this time extended to Africa, and many
were martyred in that part of the globe ; but we must content our-
selves with giving a particular account only of Perpetua, a married
lady of about twenty-six years of age, with a young child at her breast ;
she was seized for being a Christian. Her father, who tenderly loved
her, went to console her during her confinement, and attempted to
persuade her to renounce Christianity. Perpetua, however, resisted
every entreaty. This resolution so much incensed her father, that
he beat her severely, and did not visit her for some days after ; and,
in the mean time, she, and some others who were confined, were
baptized, as they were before only catechumens.
On being carried before the pro-consul Minutius, she was command-
ed to sacrifice to the idols ; but refusing, she was ordered to a dark
dungeon, and was deprived of her child. Two deacons, however,
Tertius and Pomponious, who had the care of persecuted Christians,
allowed her some hours daily to inhale the fresh air, during which
time she had the satisfaction of being allowed to nurse her child.
Foreseeing, however, that she should not long be permitted to take
care of it, she recommended it strongly to her mother's attention. Her
father at length paid her a second visit, and again entreated her to
renounce Christianity. His behaviour was now all tenderness and
humanity ; but inflexible to all things but Christ, she knew she must
leave every thing for his sake ; and she only said to him, " God's will
must be done." He then, with an almost' bursting heart, h ft her.
Perpetua gave the strongest proof of fortitude and strength of mind
on her trial. Her judge entreated her to consider her father's tears, her
infant's helplessness, and her own life ; but triumphing over the softer
sentiments of nature, she forgot the ideas of both mental and corporeal
pain, and determined to sacrifice all the feelings of human sensibility,
to that immortality offered by Christ. In vain did they attempt to per-
suade her that their offers were gentle, and her own religion otherwise,
^ware that she must die, her father's parental tenderness returned,
and in his anxiety he attempted to carry her off, on which he received
a severe blow from one of the officers. Irritated at this, the daughter
immediately declared, that she felt that blow more severely than if she
had received it herself. Being conducted back to prison, she awaited
SIXTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 41
her extjcution with several other persons, who were to be executed at
the same time ; one of these, Felicitas, a married Christian lady, was
big with child at the time of her trial. The procurator, when he ex-
amined her, entreated her to have pity upon herself and her condition ;
but she replied, that his compassion was useless, for no thought of
self-preservation could induce her to submit to any idolatrous pro-
position. She was delivered in prison of a girl, which was adopted
by a Christian woman as her own.
Revocatus was a catechumen of Carthage, and a slave. The
names of the other prisoners, who Avere to suffer upon this occasion,
were Satur, Saturnius, and Secundulus. When the day of execution
arrived, they were led to the amphitheatre. Satur, Saturnius, and
Revocatus, having the fortitude to denounce God's judgments upon
their persecutors, were ordered to run the gauntelope between the
huntei's, or such as had the care of the wild beasts. The hunters
being drawn up in two ranks, they ran between, and as they passed
were severely lashed. Felicitas and Perpetua were stripped, in order
to be thrown to a mad bull ; but some of the spectators, through de-
cency, desired that they might be permitted to put on their clothes,
which request was granted. The bull made his first attack upon Per-
petua, and stunned her : he then attacked Felicitas, and wounded her
much ; but not killing them, the executioner did that office with a
sword. Revocatus and Satur were destroyed by wild beasts ; Satur-
nius was beheaded ; and Secundulus died in prison. These execu-
tions took place on the 8th of March, A. D. 205
THE SIXTH GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS.
The sixth general persecution occurred under Maximinus, the son
of a herdsman of Thrace, who by means of thearmy was madeemperor
A. D. 235. In Cappadocia, the president Semiramus made great ef-
forts to exterminate the Christians from that kingdom. A Roman
soldier who refused to wear a laurel crown bestowed on him by the
emperor, and confessed himself a Christian, was scourged, imprison-
ed, and put to death. Pontianus, bishop of Rome, for preaching
against idolatry, was banished to Sardina, and there destroyed. An-
teros, a Grecian, Avho succeeded this bishop in the see of Rome, gave
so much offence to the government by collecting the acts of the mar-
tyrs, that after having held his dignity only forty days, he suffered
martyrdom himself. Pammachius, a Roman senator, with his family,
and other Christians to the number of forty two, were, on account of
their religion, all beheaded in one day, and their heads set up on the
city gat(?s. Simplicius, another senator, suffered martyrdom in a simi-
lar way. Calepodius, a Christian minister, after being inhumanly
treated, and barbarously dragged about the streets, was thrown into
the river Tiber Avith a mill-stone fastened about his neck. Quiritus,
a Roman nobleman, with his family and domestics, Averc, on account
of their Christian principles, put to most excruciating tortures, and
painful deaths. Martina, a noble and beautiful virgin, suffered mar-
tyrdom, being variously tortured and afterwards beheaded ; aad
42 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Hippolitur^, a Christian prelate, was tied to a v/ild horse, and dragged
through fields, stony places, bushes, &c. till he died.
While this persecution continued, niuiierous Christians were slain
without trial, and buried indiscriminately in heaps ; sometimes fifty
or sixty being cast into a pit together. Maximinus died in A. D. 238 ;
he was succeeded by Gordian, during whose reign, and that of his
successor Philip, the church was free from persecution for the space
of more than ten ye^rs : but in the year 249, a violent persecution
broke out in Alexandria. It is, however, worthy of remark, that thi?
was done at the instigation of a pa.^fsn priest, without the emperor's
privity. At this time the fury of tb;'^ people being great among the
Christians, the mob broke open their ho*is;es, carried away the best ol
their property, destroyed the rest, and jnifirdered the owners ; the
universal cry being, " Burn taem, burn them ! kill them, kill them !"
The names of the martyrs have not been recorded, Avilh the excep-
tion of the three follovv^ing : Metrus, an aged and venerable Christian,
who refusing to blaspheme his Saviour, was beaten with clubs, pricked
with sharp reeds, and at length stoned to death. Quinta, a Christian
women, being carried to the temple, and refusing to worship the idols
there, was dragged by her feet over sharp flint stones, scourged with
whips, and at last dispatched in the same manner as Metrus. And
Appolonia, an ancient maiden lady, confessing herself a Christian,
the mob dashed out her teeth with their fists, and threatened to burn
her alive. A fire was accordingly prepared for the purpose, and she
fastened to a stake ; but requesting to he unloosed, it was granted, on
a supposition that she meant to recant, when, to their astonishment,
she immediately threw herself into the flames, and was consumed.
THE SEVENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS,
In the year 249, Decius being emperor of Rome, a dreadful perse-
cution was began against the Christians. This was occasioned partly
by the hatred he bore to his predecessor Philip, who was deemed a
Christian, and partly to his jealousy concerning the amazing increase
of Christianity ; for the heathen temples Avere almost forsaken, and
the Christian churches crowded with proselytes. Decius, provoked
at this, attempted, as it were, to extirpate the name of Christian ; and,
unfortunately for the cause of the gospel, many errors had, about this
time, crept into the church ; the Christians Avere at variance Avith each
other; and a variety of contentions ensued amongst them. The
heathens, in general, Avere ambitious to enforce the imperial decrees
upon this occasion, and looked upon the murder of a Christian as a
merit to themselves. The martyrs Avere, therefore, innumerable.
Martyrdom of Fahian, and others.
Fabian, bishop of Rome, Avas the first person of eminence Avho felt
the severity of this persecution. The deceased emperor, Philip,
had, on account of his integrity, committed his treasure to the care oi
this good man ; but Decius, not finding as much as his avarice made
him expect, determined to Avreak his venjreance on the good prelate.
SEVENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 43
He was accordingly seized; and on the 20th of January, A. D. 250,
sufFered martyrdom, by decapitation.
Julian, a native of Cilicia, as we are informed by St. Chrysostom,
was seized upon for being a Christian. He was frequently tortured,
but still remained inflexible ; and though often brought from prison
for execution, was again remanded, to sufler greater cruelties. He,
at length, was obliged to travel for twelve months together, from
town to town, in order to be exposed to the insults of the populace.
When all endeavours to make him recant his religion were found
ineffectual, he was brought before his judge, stripped, and whipped
in a dreadful manner. He was then put into a leather bag, together
with a number of serpents, scorpions, &c. and in that condition thrown
into the sea.
Peter, a young man, amiable for the superior qualities of his body
and mind, was apprehended as a Christian, at Lampsacus, and carried
before Optimus, pro-consul of Asia. On being commanded to sacri-
fice to Venus, he said, " I am astonished that you should wish me to
sacrifice to an infamous woman, whose debauches even your own his-
torians record, and whose life consisted of such actions as your laws
would punish. No ! I shall ofier to the true God the sacrifice of
prayers and praise."
Optimus, on hearing this, ordered him to be stretched upon a wheel,
by Avhich all his bones were broken in a shocking manner ; but his
torments only inspired him with fresh courage ; he smiled on his per-
secutors, and seemed, by the serenity of his countenance, not to up-
braid, but to applaud his tormentors. At length the pro-consul com-
manded him to be beheaded ; which was immediately executed.
Denisa, a young woman only sixteen years of age, who beheld this
terrible judgment, suddenly exclaimed, " O, unhappy wretch, why
would you buy a moment's ease, at the expense of a miserable eter-
nity ?" Optimus hearing this, called to her, and asked if she was a
Christian ? She replied in the affirmative ; and refused to sacrifice
to the idols. Optimus, enraged at her resolution, gave her over to
two libertines, who took her to their home, and made many attempts
upon her chastity, but without efilcct. At midnight, however, they
were deterred from their design by a frightful vision, which so amazed
them, that they fell at the feet of Denisa, and implored her prayers,
that they might not feel the eflfects of divine vengeance for their bru-
tality. But this event did not diminish the cruelty of Optimus ; for
the lady was beheaded soon after by his order.
Trypho and Respicius, two eminent men, were seized as Christians,
and imprisoned at Nice. They were soon after put to the rack, which
they bore with admirable patience for three hours, and uttered the
praises of the Almighty the whole time. They were then exposed
naked in the open air, which benumbed all their limbs. W^hen re-
manded to prison, they remained there for a considerable time ; and
then the cruelties of their persecutors were again evinced. Their
feet were pierced with nails ; they were dragged through the streets,
scourged, torn Avith iron hooks, scorched with lighted torches, and
at length beheaded, on the 1st of February, A. D. 251.
Agatha, a Cicilian lady, was remarkable for her beauty and endow-
ments ; her beauty was indeed so great, that Quintain, governor of
Sicily, became enamoured of her, and made many attempts upon her
44 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
virtue. The governor being known as a great libertine, and a bigot*
ted pagan, the lady thought proper to withdraw from the town, but
was discovered in her retreat, apprehended, and brought to Catana ;
when, finding herself in the power of an enemy, both to her soul and
body, she recommended herself to the protection of the Almighty, and
prayed for death. In order to gratify his passion with tlie greater
conveniency, the governor transferred the virtuous lady to Aphrodica,
an infamous and licentious woman, Avho tried every artifice to win
her to the desired prostitution ; but all her efforts were in vain.
When Aphrodica acquainted Quintain Avith the inefficacy of her en-
deavours, he changed his desire into resentment ; and on her con-
fessing that she was a Christian, he determined to gratify his revenge.
He, therefore, ordered her to be scourged, burnt with red hot irons,
and torn with sharp hooks. Having borne these torments with admi-
i-able fortitude, she was next laid naked upon live coals, intermingled
with glass, and being carried back to prison, she there expired on the
5th of February, A. D. 251.
Martyrdom of Cyril.
Cyril, bishop of Gortyna, was seized by order of Lucius, the go-
vernor of that place, v/ho first exhorted him to obey the imperial man-
date, perform the sacrifices, and save his venerable person from de-
struction ; for he was then eighty-four years of age. The good pre-
late replied, that he could not agree to any such requisitions ; but as
he had long taught others to save their soids, that now he should
only think of his own salvation. When the governor found all his
persuasion in vain, he pronounced sentence against the venerable
Christian, in these words : " I order that Cyril, who has lost his
senses, and is a declared enemy of our gods, shall be burnt alive."
The good worthy prelate heard this sentence without emotion, walk-
ed cheerfully to the place of execution, and underwent martyrdom
with great resolution.
Persecutions in Crete.
At the island of Crete, the persecution raged with fury ; for the go-
vernor being exceedingly active in executing the imperial decrees,
that place streamed with the blood of many Christians. The princi-
pal Cretan martyrs, whose names have been transmitted to us, are as
follow : Theodulus, Saturnius, and Europus, were inhabitants of Gor-
tyna, who had been grounded in their faith by Cyril, bishop of that
city ; and Eunicianus, Zeticus, Cleomenes, Agathopas, Bastides, and
Euaristus, were brought from different parts of the island on accusa-
tions of professing Christianity.
At the time of their trial, they were commanded to sacrifice to "Ju-
piter, which declining, the judge threatened them with the severest tor-
tures. To these menaces they unanimously answered, " That to suf-
fer for the sake of the Supreme Being, would to them be the sublimes*
of pleasures." The judge then attempted to gain their veneration for
the heathen deities, by descanting on their merits, and recounting some
of their mythological histories. This gave the prisoners an opportu-
nity of remarking on the absurdity of such fictions, and of pointing out
the folly of paying adoration to ideal deities, and real images. Pro-
voked to hear his favourite idols ridiculed, the governor ordered them
all to be put to the rack ; the tortures of which they sustained v.-ith sur-
SEVENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 40
prising fortitude. They at length suffered martyrdom, A. D. 251 ; be-
iig all beheaded at the same time.
Martyrdom of Babylas, bishop of Antioch, and others.
Babylas, a Christian of liberal education, became bishop of Anti-
och, in A. D. 237, on the demise of Zebinus. He governed the church
during tlioae tempestuous times with admirable zeal and prudence.
The iirst misfortune that happened to Antioch, during his mission, was
the siege of it by Sapor, king of Persia; who, having overrun all Sy-
ria, took and plundered this city among others, and used the Christian
inhabitants with greater severity than the rest. His cruelties, however,
were not lasting, for Gordian, the emperor, appearing at the head of
a powerful army, Antioch was retaken, the Persians driven entirely
out of Syria, pursued into their own country, and several places in the
Persian territories fell into the hands of the emperor. On Gordian's
death, in the reign of Decius, that emperor came to Antioch, where,
having a desire to visit an assembly of Christians, Babylas opposed
him, and refused to let him come in. The emperor dissembled his
anger at that time ; but soon sending for the bishop, he sharply re-
proved him for his insolence, and then ordered him to sacrifice to the
pagan deities as an expiation for his supposed crime. Having refused
this, he was committed to prison, loaded with chains, treated with great
severities, and then beheaded, together with three young men who had
been his pupils. On going to the place of execution, the bishop ex-
claimed, " Behold me and the children that the Lord hath given me."
They were martyred, A. D. 251, and the chains worn by the bishop in
prison were buried with him.
The Emperor Decius having erected a pagan temple at Ephesus, in
the year 251, he commanded all who were in that city to sacrifice to
the idols. This order was nobly refused by seven of his own soldiers,
viz. Maximianus, Martianus, Joannes, Malches, Dionysius, Constanti-
nus, and Seraion. The emperor, wishing to prevail on the soldiers to
prevent their fate by his entreaties and lenity, gave them a respite till
iie returned from a journey. But in the absence of the emperor, they
escaped, and hid themselves in a cavern; v/hich he being informed of
at his return, the mouth of the cavern was closed up, and they were
all starved to death.
Theodora, a beautiful young lady of Antioch, on refusing to sacri-
fice to the Roman idols, was condemned to the brothel, that her virtue
might be sacrificed. Didymus, a Christian, then disguised himself in
the habit of a Roman soldier, went to the house, informed Theodora
who he was, and prevailed on her to make her escape in his dress.
Thus being found in the brothel, instead of the lady, he was taken be-
fore the president, to whom confessing the truth, sentence of death
was immediately pronounced against him. In the mean time, Theo
dora, hearing that her deliverer was likely to suffer, came to the judge,
threw herself at his feet, and begged that the sentence might fall only
on her, as the guilty person ; but the inflexible judge condemned both ;
and they were executed accordingly, being first beheaded, and their
bodies afterwards burnt.
Account of Origen.
Origen, the celebrated presbyter and catechist of Alexandria, at
the age of sixty-four, was seized, thrown into a lopthsomc prison, load
46 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
ed .with chains, his feet placed in the stocks, and his legs extended to
the utmost for several days. He was threatened with fire, and tor-
mented by every means that the most infernal imagination could sug-
gest. But his Christian fortitude bore him through all ; indeed, such
was the rigour of his judge, that his tortures were ordered to be lin-
gering, that death might not too soon put a period to his miseriea.
During this cruel temporising, the Emperor Decius died, and Gallus,
who succeeded him, engaging in a war with the Goths, the Christians
met with a respite. In this interim, Origen obtained his enlargement,
and retiring to Tyre, remained there till his death, which happened
when he was in the sixty -ninth year of his age.
THE EIGHTH GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS.
After the death of Gallus, jEmilian, the general, having many ene-
mies in the army, was slain, and Valerian was elected to the empire.
This emperor, for the space of four years, governed with moderation,
and treated the Christians with pecuHar lenity and respect; but in
the year 257, an Egyptian magician, named Macrianus, gained a great
ascendancy over him, and persuaded him to persecute them. Edicts
were accordingly published, and the persecution, which began in the
month of April, continued for three years and six months.
The martyrs that fell in this persecution were innumerable, and
their tortures and deaths as various. The most eminent were the fol-
lowing :
Rufina and Secunda were two beautiful and accomplished ladies,
daughters of Asterius, a gentleman of eminence in Rome. Rufina,
the elder, was designed in marriage for Armentarius, a young noble-
man ; and Secunda, the younger, for Verinus, a person of rank, and
immense wealth. These suitors, at the time the persecution commen-
ced, were both Christians ; but when danger appeared, to save their
fortunes, they renounced their faith. They took great pains to per-
suade the ladies to do the same, but failed in their purpose ; and as a
method of safety, Rufina and Secunda left the kingdom. The lovers,
finding themselves disappointed, informed against the ladies, who be-
ing apprehended as Christians, were brought befoi'e Junius Donatus,
governor of Rome. After many remonstrances, and having under-
gone several tortures, they sealed their martyrdom with their blood,
by being beheaded, in the year 257.
In tlie same year, Stephen, bishop of Rome, was beheaded, and
about that time Saturnius, bishop of Thoulouse, was attacked and
seized by the rabble of that place, for preventing, as they alleged, their
oracles from speaking. On refusing to sacrifice to the idols, he was
treated with many barbarous indignities, and then fastened by the feet
to the tail of a bull. On a certain signal the enraged animal was driven
down the steps of the temple, by which the martyr's brains were dash-
ed out ; and the small number of Christians in Thoulouse, had not,
for some time, courage sufficient to carry off the dead body ; at length
two women conveyed it away, and deposited it in a ditch. This mar-
tyr was an orthodox and learned primitive Christian, and his doc
trines are held in high estimation.
EIGHTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 47
Stephen was succeeded by Sextus as bishop of Rome. Ho is sup-
posed to have been a Greek by birth or extraction, and had for some
time served in the capacity of a deacon, under Stephen. His great
fidelity, singular wisdom, and courage, distinguished him upon many
occasions ; and the fortunate conclusion of a controversy with some
heretics, is generally ascribed to his prudence. Macrianus, who had
the management of the Roman government in the year 258, having
procured an order from the Emperor Valerian, to put to death all the
Christian clergy in Rome, and the Senate having testified their obe-
dience to this mandate, Sextus was one of the first who felt its seve-
rity. Cyprian tells us, that he was beheaded August 6, A. D. 258 ;
and that six of his deacons sufiered with him.
Martyrdom of St. Laurence.
Laurentius, generally called St. Laurence, the principal of the dea
cons, who taught and preached under Sextus, followed him to the
place of execution ; when Sextus predicted that he should meet him
in heaven three days after. Laurentius considering this as a certain
indication of his own approaching martyrdom, at his return collected
all the Christian poor, and distributed among them the treasures of
the church, Avhich had been committed to his care, thinking the mo-
ney could not be better disposed of, or less liable to fall into the
liands of the heathens. His conduct alarmed the persecutors, who
seized on him, and commanded him to give an immediate account to
the emperor of the church treasures.
Laurentius promised to satisfy them, but begged a short respite to
put things in proper order ; when three days being granted him, he
was suffered to depart ; whereupon with great diligence, he collected
together a great number of aged, helpless, and impotent poor, and
repairing to the magistrate, presenting them to him, saying, " These
are the true treasures of the church."
Provoked at the disappointment, and fancying the matter meant in
ridicule, the governor ordered him to be immediately scourged. He
v/as then beaten with iron rods, set upon a wooden horse, and had his
limbs dislocated. He endured these tortures with such fortitude and
perseverance, that he was ordered to be fastened to a large gridiron,
with a slow fire under it, that his death might be the more tedious.
But his astonishing constancy during these trials, and his serenity of
countenance while under such excruciating torments, gave the spec-
tators so exalted an idea of the dignity and truth of the Christian re-
ligion, that many immediately became converts.
Having lain for some time upon the gridiron, the martyr called out
to the emperor, who was present, in a kind of jocose Latin distich,
made extempore, which may be translated thus :
" This side enough is toasted,
Then turn me, tyrant, and eat ;
And see, whether raw or roasted,
I am the better meat."
On this the executioner turned him, and after having Iain a consi-
derable time longer, he had still stnength and spirit enough to triumph
over the tyrant, by telling him, with great serenity, that he was roast-
ed enough, and only wanted serving up. He then cheerfully lifted
4S BOOK OF MARTYRS.
up his eyes to heaven, and with calmness yielded his spirit to the
Almighty. This happened in August 10, A. D. 258.
Persecutions in Africa — Account of Cyprian.
Fourteen years previous to this period, the persecution raged in
Africa with peculiar violence ; and many thousands received the
crown of martyrdom, among whom the following were the most dis-
tinguished characters :
Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, was an eminent prelate, and a great
ornament of the church. His doctrines were orthodox and pure ; his
language easy and elegant ; and his manners graceful. He was said
to be so perfect a master of rhetoric and logic, and so complete in the
practice of elocution, and the principles of philosophy, that he was
made professor of those sciences in his native city of Carthage, where
he taught with great success. He Avas educated in the principles of
Gentilism, and having a considerable fortune, he lived in great splen-
dour and pomp. Gorgeous in attire, luxurious in feasting, vain of a
numerous retinue, and fond of every kind of fashionable parade, he
seemed to fancy that man was born to gratify all his appetites, and
created for pleasure only. About the year 246, Ccecilius, a Christian
minister of Carthage, became the instrument of Cyprian's conversion:
on which account, and for the great love that he always afterwards
bore for his adviser, he was termed Ccecilius Cyprian.
Before his baptism he studied the scriptures with care, and being
struck with the beauties of the truths they contained, he determined to
practice the virtues they recommended. He sold his estate, distribu-
ted the money among the poor, dressed himself in plain attire, and
commenced a life of austerity and solitude. Soon after his baptism
he was made a presbyter; and being greatly admired for his virtues
and his works, on the death of Donatus. in A. D. 248, he was almost
unanimously elected bishop of Carthage. The care of Cyprian not
only extended over Carthage, but to Numidia and Mauritania. In all
his transactions he took great care to ask the advice of his clergy,
knowing that unanimity alone could be of service to the church : this
being one of his maxims, " That the bishop was in the church, and
the church in the bishop ; so that unity can only be preserved by a
close connexion between the pastor and his flock."
In the year 250, he was publicly proscribed by the Emperor De-
cius, under the appellation of Ccecilius Cyprian, bishop of the Chris-
tians ; and the universal cry of the pagans, was, " Cyprian to the
lions ! Cyprian to the beasts !"
The bishop, however, withdrew from the rage of the populace, and
his effects were immediately confiscated. During his retirement he
wrote thirty pious letters to his flock ; but several schisms that then
crept into the church gave him great uneasiness. The rigour of the
persecution abating, he returned, and did every thing in his power to
expunge erroneous opinions and false doctrines. A terrible plague
now breaking out at Carthage, it was, as usual, laid to the charge of
the Christians ; and the magistrates began to persecute accordingly
which occasioned an epistle from them to Cyprian, in ansv/er to which
he vindicates the cause of Christianity.
Cyprian was brought before the pro-consul Aspasius Paternus, A. D.
257. when being commanded to conform to the religion of the em-
Tortures of the early Christian Martyrs.
Saturnius tied to a Bull. Page 46.
Sebastian shot with Arrows. Page 54.
TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 49
pire, he boldly made a confession of his faith. This, however, did
not occasion his death, but an order was made for his banishment,
which exiled him to a little city on the Libyan sea. On the death of
the pro-consul who banished him, he returned to Carthage, but was
soon after seized, and carried before the new governor, who con-
demned him to be beheaded : and on the 14th of September, A. D
258, this sentence was executed.
Fate of the Emperor Valerian.
This tyrant, who had so long and so terribly persecuted the Chris-
tians, was taken prisoner by Sapores, king of Persia, who carried
him into his own country, and there treated him with the most unex-
ampled indignity, making him kneel down as the meanest slave, and
treading upon him as a footstool when he mounted his horse, saying,
in a vaunting manner, " This posture is a greater proof which way the
victory went, than all the pictures the Roman artists can draw."
Having kept him, for the space of seven years, in this abject state
of slavery, he at last caused his eyes to be put out, though he was
then eighty-three years of age ; and his desire of revenge not being
satisfied, he soon after ordered his body to be flayed alive, and rubbed
with salt, under which torments he expired.
Gallienus, the son of Valerian, succeeded him, A. D. 200, and durino
his reign, the empire suffered many commotions, particularly earth"
quakes, pestilence, inundations, intestine broils, and incursions of bar-
barians. This emperor reflecting, that when his father favoured the
Christians he prospered, and that when he persecuted them he was
unsuccessful, determined to relax the persecution ; so that (a few mar-
tyrs excepted) the church enjoyed peace for some years.
THE NINTH GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS.
In the year 274 the Emperor Aurelian commenced a persecution
against the Christians : the principal of the sufferers was Felix, bishop
of Rome. This prelate was advanced to the Roman see in 274, and
was beheaded in the same year, on the 22d of December. Agape-
tus, a young gentlemen, who sold his estate, and gave the money
to the poor, was seized as a Christian, tortured, and then brought to
Prajneste, a city within a day's journey of Rome, v/here he was be-
headed. These are the only martyrs left upon record during this
reign, as it was soon put a stop to by the emperor's being murdered by
his own domestics, at Byzantium. Aurelian was succeeded by Taci-
tus, who was followed by Probus, as was the latter by Carus : this
emperor being killed by a thunder storm, his sons, Carinus and Nu-
meriaw, succeeded him ; and durir.g all these reigns, the church en-
|oyed rest.
Diocletian mounting the imperial throne, A. D. 284, at first shewed
great favour to the Christians. In the year 286, he associated Maxi-
mian with him in the empire ; and the following Christians were put
to death Jsefore any general persecution broke out — Felician and Pri-
mus, two brothers. They wen^ seized by an order from the imperia.
court; and owning tliemselves Christians, were accordingly scourged.
4
50
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
tortured, and finally beheaded. Marcus and Marcellianus were twins,
natives of Rome, and of noble descent. Their parents were heathens,
but the tutors to whom the education of their children was intrusted,
brought them up as Christians. Being apprehended on account of
their faith, they were severely tortured, and then sentenced to be be-
headed. A respite of a month was obtained for them by their friends,
when their father, mother, and all their relations, attempted to. bring
them back to paganism, but in vain. At last their constancy subdued
their persuaders, and their parents and whole family became con-
verts to a faith they had just before condemned.
Tranquilinus, the father of the two young men, was sent for by the
prefect, to give him an account of the success of his endeavours ;
when he confessed, that so far from having persuaded his sons to for-
sake the faith they had embraced, he was become a Christian himself.
He then stopped till the magistrate had recovered from his surprise,
and resuming his discourse, he used such powerful arguments, that he
made a convert of him, who soon after sold his estate, resigned his
command, and spent the remainder of his days in a pious retirement.
The prefect who succeeded the above-mentioned convert, had no-
thing of the disposition of his predecessor : he was morose and se-
vere, and soon seized upon the whole of this Christian race, who were
accordingly martyred, by being tied to posts, and having their feet
pierced with nails. After remaining in this situation for a day and
night, their sufferings were put an end to by thrusting lances through
their bodies.
Zoe, the wife of the gaoler, who had the care of the before-men-
tioned martyrs, being greatly edified by their discourses, had a de-
sire to become a Christian ; this, as she was dumb with a palsy, she
could only express by gestures. They gave her instructions in the
faith, and told her to pray in her heart to God to relieve her from her
disorder. She did so, and was at length relieved ; for her paralytic
disorder by degrees left her, and her speech returned again. This
enforced her belief, and confirmed her a Christian; and her husband,
finding her cured, became a convert himself. These conversions made
a great noise, and the proselytes were apprehended. Zoe was com-
manded to sacrifice to Mars, which refusing, she was hanged upon a
tree, and a fire of straw lighted under her. When her body was ta-
ken down, it was thrown into a river, with a large stone tied to it, in
order to sink it.
Massacre of a xchole Legion of Christian Soldiers.
A very remarkable affair occurred in A. D. 280. A legion of sol-
diers, consisting of 6666 men, contained none but Christians. This
legion was called the Theban legion, because the men had been raised
in Thebais ; .they were quartered in the East, till the Emperor Ma^'i-
mian ordered them to march to Gaul, to assist him against the reoels
of Burgundy ; when passing the Alps under the command of Mauri-
tius, Candidus, and Exupernis, they at length joined the emperor.
About this time, Maximian ordered a general sacrifice, at which the
whole army were to assist ; and he commanded that they should take
oaths of allegiance, and swear, at the same time, to assist him in the
extirpation of Christianity in Gaul.
NINTH GENERAL PERSECUTION 51
Terrified at these orders, each individual of the Theban legion abso-
lutely refused either to sacrifice, or take the oaths prescribed. This so
greatly enraged Maximian, that he ordered the legion to be decimated,
that is, every tenth man to be selected from the rest, and put to the
sword. This cruel order having been put into execution, those who
remained alive were still inflexible, when a second decimation took
place, and again every tenth man of those living was put to the
sword.
But this second severity made no more impression than the first ;
the soldiers preserved their fortitude, and their principles ; but, by the
advice of their ofiicers, drew up a remonstrance to the emperor, in
which they told him, " that they were his subjects and his soldiers,
but could not at the same time forget the Almighty ; that they receiv-
ed their pay from him, and their existence from God. While your
commands (said they) are not contradictory to those of our common
master, Ave shall always be ready to obey, as we have been hitherto ;
but when the orders of our prince and those of the Almighty differ, we
must always obey the latter. Our arms are devoted to the emperor's
use, and shall be directed against his enemies ; but we cannot submit
to stain our hands with efiusion of Christian blood ; and how, indeed,
could you, O emperor, be sure of our allegiance and fidelity, should
we violate our obligation to our God, in whose service we were so-
lemnly engaged before we entered the army ? You commanded us to
search out, and to destroy the Christians : it is not necessary to look
any farther for persons of that denomination ; we ourselves are such,
and we glory in the name. We saw our companions fall without the
least opposition or murmuring, and thought them happy in dying for
the sake of Christ. Nothing shall make us lift up our hands against
our sovereign ; we had rather die wrongfully, and by that means pre-
serve our innocence, than live under a load of guilt : whatever you
command, we are ready to suffer : we confess ourselves to be Chris-
tians, and therefore cannot persecute Christians, nor sacrifice to
idols."
Such a declaration, it might be presumed, w^ould have softened the
emperor, but it had a contrary effect ; for, enraged at their perseve-
rance and unanimity, he commanded that the whole legion should be
put to death, which was accordingly executed by the other troops,
vvho cut them to pieces with their swords.
This barbarous transaction happened on the 22d of September,
A. D. 286 ; and such was the inveterate malice of Maximian, that he
sent to destroy every man of a few detachments, which had been
drafted from the ThelDan legion, and dispatched to Italy.
Alban, the first British Martyr.
Alban, from whom St. Alban's, in Hertfordshire, received its name,
was the first British martyr. He was originally a pagan, and being
of a very humane disposition, he sheltered a Christian ecclesiastic,
named Amphibalus, who was pursued on account of his religion.
The pious example, and edifying discourses of the refugee, made a
great impression on the mind of Alban; he longed to become a mem-
ber of a religion which charmed him ; the fugitive minister, happy in
the opportunity, took great pains to instruct him ; and, before liis
discovery, perfected Alban's conversion.
52 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Alban now took a firm resolution to preserve the sentiments of a
Christian, or to die the death of a martyr. The enemies of Amphibalus
having iutelUgence of the place Avhere he was secreted, came to the
house of Alban, in order to apprehend him. The noble host desi-
rous of protecting his guest, changed clothes with him, in order to
faciliate his escape ; and when the soldiers came, offered himself up
as the person for whom they were seeking. Being accordingly car-
ried before the governor, the deceit was immediately discovered ; and
Amphibalus being absent, that officer determined to wreak his ven-
geance upon Alban : with this view he commanded the prisoner to ad-
vance to the altar, and sacrifice to the pagan deities. The brave Al-
ban, however, refused to comply Avith the idolatrous injunction, and
boldly professed himself to be a Christian. The governor therefore
ordered him to be scourged, which punishment he bore with great
fortitude, seeming to acquire new resolution from his sufferings ; he
was then beheaded.
The venerable Bede states, that upon this occasion, the execution-
er suddenly became a convert to Christianity, and entreated permis-
sion either to die for Alban or Avith him. Obtaining the latter re-
quest, they Avere beheaded by a soldier, Avho voluntarily undertook
the task. This happened on the 22d of June, A. D. 287, at Verulam,
now St. Alban's, in Hertfordshire, AA'here a magnificent church Avas
erected to his memory, about the time of Constantino the Great.
This edifice Avas destroyed in the Saxon Avars, but Avas rebuilt by Of-
fa, king of Mercia, and a monastery erected adjoining to it, some
remains of Avhich are still visible.
Martyrdom of St. Faith, and others.
Faith, a Christian female, of Aquitaine, in France, being informed
that there Avas a design to seize her, anticipated the intention, by sur-
rendering herself a prisoner ; and being inflexible in her faith, Avas
ordered to be broiled on a gridiron, and then beheaded, Avhich sentence
Avas executed A. D. 287. Capacius, a Christian, concealed himself
from the persecutors, but being informed of the fortitude of Faith, he
openly avoAved his religion, and delivered himself up to the governor,
Avho had him first tortured, and then beheaded. Quintin Avas a Chris-
tian, and a native of Rome, but he determined to attempt the propa-
gation of the gospel in Gaul. He accordingly went to Picardy, at-
tended by one Lucian, and they preached together at Amiens ; after
Avhich Lucian Avent to Beauvais, Avhere he suffered martyrdom.
Quintin, hoAvever, remained in Picardy, and Avas very zealous in his
ministry. His continual prayers to the Almighty Avere to increase
his faith, and strengthen his faculties to propagate the gospel. Being
seized upon as a Christian, he Avas stretched Avith pulleys till his joints
were dislocated : his body Avas then torn Avith Avire scourges, and
boiling oil and pitch poured on his naked flesh ; lighted torches Avere
applied to his sides and arm pits ; and after he had been thus tortured
he was remanded back to prison. Varus, the governor, being obliged
to repair to Vermandois, ordered Quintin to be conducted thither
under a strong guard ; and here he died of the barbarities he had
suffered, on the 31st of October, A. D. 287; his body Avas sunk in
the Somme.
TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 53
THE TICNTH GENERAL PERSECUTION UNDER THE ROMAN EMPERORS
Notwithstanding the efforts of the heathens to exterminate the
Christians, and abolish their mode of faith, yet they increased so
greatly as to become formidable by their nmnbers. They, however,
forgot the precepts of their meek prototype, and instead of adopting
his humility, they gave themselves up to vanity, by dressing gaily,
living sumptuously, building stately edifices for churches, »Slc. which
created a general envy, and particularly excited the hatred of Gale-
rius, the adopted son of Diocletian, who, stimulated by his mother, a
bigoted pagan, persuaded the emperor to commence a persecution.
It accordingly began on the 23d of February, A. D. 303, that being the
day on which the Terminalia were celebrated, and on which, as the
pagans boasted, they hoped to put a termination to Christianity.
The persecution began in Nicomedia : the prefect of that city re-
paired, with a great number of officers and assistants, to the church
of the Christians, where, having forced open the doors, they seized
upon all the sacred books, and committed them to the flames. This
transaction took place in the presence of Diocletian and Galerius, who
also caused the church to be levelled with the ground. It was follow-
ed by a severe edict, commanding the destruction of all other Chris-
tian churches and books ; and an order soon succeeded, the object
of which was to render Christians of all denominations outlaws, and
consequently to make them incapable of holding any place of trust,
profit, or dignity ; or of receiving any protection from the l6gal insti-
tutions of the realm. An immediate martyrdom was the result of the
publication of this edict ; for a bold Christian not only tore it down
from the place to Avhich it was affixed, but execrated the name of the
emperor for his injustice and cruelty : he Avas in consequence seized,
severely tortured, and then burnt alive. The Christian prelates were
likewise apprehended and imprisoned ; and Galerius privately order-
ed the imperial palace to be set on fire, that the Christians might be
charged as the incendiaries, and a plausible pretext given for carry-
ing on the persecution with the greatest severity.
A general sacrifice of the Christians.
A general sacrifice was then commanded, which occasioned vari-
ous martyrdoms. Among others, a Chrisdan, named Peter, was tor-
tured, broiled, and then burnt ; several deacons and presbyters were
seized upon, and executed by various means ; and the bishop of Ni-
comedia, named Anthimus, was beheaded. So great was the perse-
cution, that there was no distinction made of age or sex, but all were
indiscriminately massacred. Many houses were set on fire, and
whole Christian families perished in the flames ; others had stones
fastened about their necks, and were driven into the sea. The perse-
cution became general in all the Roman provinces, but more particu-
larly in the East ; and as it lasted ten years, it is impossible to ascer-
tain the numbers martyred, or to enumerate the various modes of
martyrdom : some were beheaded in Arabia ; many devoured by wild
beasts in Phosnicia ; great numbers were broiled on gridirons in Sy-
ria ; others had their bones broken, and in that manner were left to
expire in Cappadocia ; and in Mesopotamia, several were hung with
54 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
their heads downwards, over a slow fire, and sufTocated. In Ponius,
a variety of tortures were used ; in particular, pins were thrust under
the nails of the prisoners, melted lead was poured upon them ; but
without effect. In Egypt, some Christians were buried alive in the
earth, others were drowned in the Nile, many were hung in the air till
they perished, and great numbers were thrown into large fires, &c.
Scourges, racks, daggers, swords, poison, crosses, and famine, were
made use of in various parts to despatch the Christians ; and invention
was exhausted to devise tortures against them.
A town of Phrygia, consisting entirely of Christians, was surround-
ed by a number of pagan soldiers, to prevent any from escaping ;
they then set the town on fire, and all the inhabitants perished in
the flames.
Provincial Governors address the Emperor to stop the Persecution.
At last, several governors of provinces represented to the imperial
court, that " it was unfit to pollute the cities with the blood of the in-
habitants, or to defame the government of the emperors with the death
of so many subjects." Hence many were respited from execution ;
but though not put to death, they were subjected to every species or
indignity. Many had their ears cut off", their noses slit, their righ >
eyes put out, their limbs dislocated, and their flesh seared in conspi
cuous places, with red-hot irons.
Account of some who suffered.
Amongst those who forfeited their lives during this bloody perse
eution, was Sebastian, a celebrated holy man, who was born at Nar
bonne in Gaul, instructed in the principles of Christianity at Milan
and afterwards became an officer of the emperor's guard at Rome
He remained a true Christian in the midst of idolatry ; unallured bj
the splendours of a court, and untainted by evil examples : esteemed
by the most eminent, beloved by his equals, and admired by his infe-
riors, he lived happily, and kept his faith and place, till the rigour of
the persecution deprived him of life. He was informed again&t, and
betrayed to Fabian the Roman Prsetor, by Torquatus, a pretended
Christian ; but being of a rank too considerable to be put to death
without the emperor's express orders, Diocletian was made acquaint-
ed with the circums-tance.
The emperor, on hearing the accusation, sent for Sebastian, and
charged him with ingratitude, in betraying the confidence reposed
in him, and being an enemy to the gods of the empire and to himself:
To this he ansv/ered, that his religion was of a good, not a pernicious
tendency, and that it did not stimulate him to any thing against the
welfare of the empire, or the emperor, and that the greatest proof he
could give of his fidelity, was the praying to the only true God for
the health and prosperity of his imperial person. Incensed at this
reply, the emperor ordered him to be taken to a field near the city,
termed the Campus Martius, and there to be shot to death with ar-
rows ; which sentence was accordingly executed. A few Christians
attended at the place of execution, in order to give his body burial,
perceived signs of life in him, and moving him to a place of security,
they in a short time efiected his recovery, and prepared him for a
second martyrdom ; for as soon as he was able to walk, he placed
TEi\TH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 55
himsell intentionally in the emperor's way as he was going to the
temple. The unexpected appearance of a person supposed to be
dead, greatly astonished the emperor, nor did the words of the mar-
tyr less surprise him ; for he began Avith great severity to reprehend
him for his various cruelties, and for his unreasonable prejudices
against Christianity.
When Diocletian had overcome his surprise, he ordered Sebastian
to be seized, carried to a place near the palace, and beat to death;
and that the Christians should not either use means again to recover,
or bury his body, he ordered that it should be thrown into the common
sewer. Nevertheless, a Christiar^ laJy, named Lucina, found means
to remove it from the sewer, and bury it in the catacombs.
A Pagan Father seeks to sacrifice his own Son.
Vitus, a Sicilian of a considerable family, was brought up a Chris-
tian ; his virtues increased with his years, his constancy supported
him under all his afflictions, and his faith was superior to the most
dangerous perils and misfortunes. Hylas, his father, who was a pa-
gan, finding that he had been instructed in the principles of Chris-
tianity by the nurse who brought him up, used all his endeavours to
bring him back to paganism ; but finding his eflTorts in vain, he forgot
all the feelings of a parent, and informed against his son to Valerian,
governor of Sicily, who was very active in persecuting the Christians
at this period.
This youth, when apprehended upon the information of his father,
was little more than twelve years of age ; Valerian, therefore, on ac-
count of his tender age, thought to frighten him out of his faith : he
was accordingly threatened, and ordered to be severely scourged.
After this, the governor sent him back to his father, thinking that
what he had suffered would make him change his principles ; but in
this he was mistaken ; and Hylas, finding his son inflexible, suffered
nature to sink under superstition, and determined to sacrifice his son
to the idols. On being apprised of his design, Vitus escaped to Lu-
cania, where, being seized, he was by order of Valerian put to death,
June 14, A. D. 303. His nurse, Crescentia, who brought him up as
a Christian, and Modestus, a person Avho escaped with him, were
martyred at the same time ; but the manner is unknown.
There was one Victor, a Christian, of a good family at Marseilles,
m France, who spent a great part of the night in visiting the afflicted,
and confirming the weak, which pious work he could not, consistently
with his own safety, perform in the day-time ; and his fortune he
spent in relieving the distrcs,scs of poor Christians. His actions be-
coming knoAvn, he was seized by the emperor's orders, and being car-
ried before two prefects, they advised him to embrace paganism, and
not forfeit the favour of his prince, on account of a dead man, as they
styled Christ : in answer to which he replied, " That he preferred the
service of that dead man, who Avas in reality the Son of God, and had
risen from the grave, to all the advantages he could receive from the
emperor's favour : that lie Avas a soldier of Christ, and Avould therefore
take care that tlie post he held under an earthly prince, should never
interfere Avith his duty to the King of Heaven." For this reply, Vic-
tor was loaded Avith reproaches, but being a man of rank, he Avas sent
to the emperor to receive his final sentence. When brought before
56
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
him, Maximian commanded him, under the severest penalties, to sa
crifice to the Roman idols ; and on his refusal, ordered him to be bound,
and dragged through the streets. During the execution of this order,
he was treated by the enraged populace with all manner of indignities.
Remaining, however, inflexible, his courage was deemed obstinacy :
to which he replied, " Tliat the ready disposition of the disciples of
Christ to undergo any sufferings on that score, and the joy with which
they met the most ignominious and painful deaths, were suflicient
proofs of their assurance of the object of that hope." He added,
" That he was ready to give an example of what he had said in his
own person." When stretched upon the rack, he turned his eyes to-
wards heaven, and prayed to God to give him patience ; after which
he underwent the tortures Avith admirable fortitude. The execution-
ers being tired with inflicting the torments, he was taken from the
rack, and conveyed to a dungeon. During his confinement, he con-
verted the gaolers, named Alexander, Felician, and Longinus. This
afiair coming to the knowledge of the emperor, he ordered them im-
mediately to be put to death, and they were beheaded accordingly.
Victor was afterwards again put to the rack, beaten with clubs, and
then again sent to his dungeon. Being a third time examined con-
cerning his religion, he persevered in his principles ; a small altar
was then brought, and he was commanded to offer incense upon it
immediately ; but at the request, he boldly stepped forward, and with
his foot overthrew both altar and idol. The Emperor Maximian, who
v/as present, was so enraged at this, that he ordered the foot with
which he had kicked the altar, to be immediately cut off; and Victor
to be thrown into a mill, and crushed to pieces with the stones. This
horrid sentence was put into execution : but part of the apparatus
breaking, he was drawn from tlie mill terribly bruised ; and the em-
peror not having patience to stay till it was mended, ordered his head
to be struck off", which was executed accordingly.
Fortitude and noble conduct of three Christian friends.
While Maximus, governor of Cilicia, was at Tarsus, three Chris-
tians were brought before him by Demetrius, a military officer. Ta-
rachus, the eldest, and first in rank, was addressed by Maximus, who
asked him what he was? The prisoner replied, "A Cliristian."
This reply offending the governor, he again made the same demand,
and was answered in a similar manner. Hereupon the governor told
him, that he ought to sacrifice to the gods, as that was the only Avay
to promotion, riches, and honours ; and that the emperors tliemselves
did what he recommended to him to perform : but Tarachus replied,
that avarice was a sin, and gold itself an idol as abominable as any
other ; for it promoted frauds, treacheries, robberies, and murders ;
it induced men to deceive each other, by which in time they deceived
themselves, and bribed the weak to their own eternal destri ction.
As for promotion, he desired it not, as he could not in conscience ac-
cept of any place which Avould subject him to pay adoration to idols;
and with regard to honours, he desired none greater than the honour-
able title of Christian. As to the emperors tlicmselves being pagans,
he added with the same undaunted and determined spirit, that they
were superstitiously deceived in adoring senseless idols, and evidently
misled by the machinations of the devil himself. For the boldness
^£:NTH general PERSECUTIOx^f. 57
of this speech, his jaws were ordered to be broken. He was then
stripped, scourged, loaded with chains, and thrown into a dismal
dungeon, to remain there till the trials of' the other two prisoners.
Probus Mas then brought before Maximiis, who, as usual, asked his
name. Undauntedly the prisoner replied, the most valuable name he
could boast of v/as that of a Christian. To this Maximus replied in
the following words : " Your name of Christian will be of little ser-
vice to j'ou ; be therefore guided by me ; sacrifice to the gods, engage
my friendship, and the favour of the emperor." Probus nobly an-
swered, " that as he had relinquished a considerable fortune to become
a soldier of Christ, it might appear evident, that he neither cared for
his friendship, nor the favour of the emperor." Probus was then
scourged ; and Demetrius, the officer, observing to him how his blood
flowed, advised him to comply ; but his only answer was, that those
severities were agreeable to him. " What!" cried Maximus, "does
he still persist in his madness ?" To which Probus rejoined, " that
character is badly bestowed on one who refuses to worship idols, or
what is worse, devils." After being scourged on the back, he was
scourged on the belly, which he suffered with as much intrepidity as
before, still repeating, " the more my body suffers and loses blood,
the more my soul Avill grow vigorous, and be a gainer." He was
then committed to goal, loaded Avith irons, and his hands and feet
stretched upon the stocks. Andronicus was next brought up, when,
being asked the usual questions, he said, " I am a Christian, a native
of Ephesus, and descended from one of the first families in that city.'*
He was ordered to undergo punishments similar to those of Tarachus
and Probus, and then to be remanded to prison.
Having been confined some days, the three prisoners were again
brought before Maximus, who began first to reason with Tarachus,
saying, that as old age was honoured, from the supposition of its be-
ing accompanied by wisdom, he was in hopes that what had already
past, must, upon deliberation, having caused a change in his sentiments.
Finding himself, however, mistaken, he ordered him to be tortured by
various means ; particularly, fire was placed in the palms of his
hands ; he was hung up by his feet, and smoked with wet straw ; and
a mixture of salt and vinegar was poured into his nostrils ; and he
was then again remanded to his dungeon. Probus being again called,
and asked if he would sacrifice, replied, " I come better prepared
than before ; for what I have already suffered, has only confirmed
and strengthened me in my resolution. Employ your whole power
upon me, and you Avill find that neither you, nor your masters, the
emperors, nor the gods whom you serve, nor the devil, Avho is your
father, shall oblige me to adore gods whom I know not." The go-
vernor, hov/ever, attempted to reason with him, paid the most extrava-
gant praises to the pagan deities, and pressed him to sacrifice to .Ju-
piter ; but Probus turned his casuistry into ridicule, and said, " shall I
pay divine honours to .Tupiter ; to one who married his own sister ;
to an infamous debauchee, as he is even acknowledged to have been
by your own priests and poets ?" Provoked at this speech, the go-
vernor ordered him to be struck upon the mouth, for uttering Avhat he
called blasphemy : his body was then seared with hot irons ; he was
put to the rack, and afterwards scourged ; his head was then shaved,
53 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
and red hoi coals placed upon the crown ; and after all these tortures,
ho was again sent to prison.
When Andronicus was again brought before Maximus, the latter
attempted to deceive him, by pretending that Tarachus and Probus
had repented of their obstinacy, and owned the gods of the empire.
To this the prisoner answered, " Lay not, O governor, such a weak
ness to the charge of those who have appeared here before me in this
cause, nor imagine it to be in your power to shake my fixed resolu-
tion with artful speeches. I cannot believe that they have disobeyed
the laAvs of their fathers, renounced their hopes in our God, and con-
sented to your extravagant orders : nor will I ever fall short of them
in faith and dependance upon our common Saviour : thus armed, I
neither know your gods, nor fear your authority; fulfil your threats,
execute your most sanguinary inventions, and employ every cruel art
in your power on me ; I am prepared to bear it for the sake of Christ."
For this answer he was cruelly scourged, and his wounds Avere after-
wards rubbed with salt; but being well again in a short time, the go
vernor reproached the gaoler for having suflered some physician to at-
tend to him. The gaoler declared, that no person whatever had been
near him, or the other prisoners, and that he \vould Avillingly forfeit
his head if any allegation of the kind could be proved against him.
Andronicus corroborated the testimony of the gaoler, and added, that
the God whom he served was the most powerful of physicians.
These three Christians were brought to a third examination, when
they retained their constancy, were again tortured, and at length or-
dered for execution. Being brought to the amphitheatre, several
beasts were let loose upon them ; but none of the animals, though
hungry-, would touch them. Maximus became so surprised and in-
censed at this circumstance, that he severely reprehended the keeper,
and ordered him to produce a beast that would execute the business
for Avhich he was wanted. The keeper then brought out a large bear
that had that day destroyed three men ; but this creature, and a fierce
lioness, also refused to touch the Christians. Finding the design of
destroying tliem by the means of wild beasts ineffectual, Maximus or-
dered them to be slain by a sword, which was accordingly executed
on the 11th of October, A. D. 303. They all declared, previous to
their martyrdom, that as death was the common lot of all men, they
wished to meet it for the sake of Christ ; and to resign that life to
faith, which must otherwise be the prey of disease.
Horrid Martyrdom of Roinanus.
Romanus, a native of Palestine, was deacon of the church of Cajsa-
rea, at the time of the commencement of Dioclesian's persecution.
He was at Antioch when the imperial order arrived for sacrificing to
idols, and was greatly afflicted to sec many Christians, through fear,
submit to the idolatrous mandate, and deny their fixith to'preserve their
existence. While censuring some of them for their conduct, he was
informed against, and soon after apprehended. Being brought to the
tribunal, he confessed himself a Christian, and said he v/as willing to
suffer any thing which they might be pleased to inflict upon him for
his confession. ' When condemned, he was scourged, put to the rack,
his body torn with hooks, his flesh cut with knives, his face scarified,
his teeth beat from their sockets, and his hair plucked up by the roots.
TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 59
Thus cruelly mangled, he turned to the governor, and very calmly
thanked him for v/hat he had done, and for having opened for him so
many mouths to preach the doctrines of Christianity ; "for," says he,
" every wound is a mouth, to sing th£ praises of the Lord." He was
soon after ordered to he strangled; which sentence was executed on
the 17th of November, A. D. 303.
Persecutions in Africa.
It was in the year 304, the persecution of Diocletian again began to
prevail, and many Christians were put to cruel tortures, and the most
painful deaths ; the most eminent of these were, Saturninus, a priest
of Albitina, a town of Africa : he used to preach and administer the
sacrament to a society of Christians, who privately assembled at the
house of Octavius Felix ; having been informed against, Saturninus,
with four of his children, and several other persons, were apprehend-
ed: and that their punishment might be the more exemplary and pub-
lic, they were sent to Carthage, the capital of Africa, where they were
examined before Anulinus, the proconsul of that quarter of the globe.
Saturninus, on the examination, gave such spirited answers, and
vindicated the Christian religion with such eloquence, as showed that
he was worthy to preside over an assembly that possessed a faith of
purity and truth. Anulinus, enraged at his arguments, ordered him
to be stopped from saying any more, by being put to a variety of tor-
tures, such as scourging, tearing his flesh with hooks, burning with hot
irons, &c. Having been thus inhumanly tortured, he was remanded
to prison, and there starved to death. His four children, notwithstand-
ing they were variously tormented, remained steady in their faith ; on
which they were sent back to the dungeon in which their father was
confined, and were also starved to death in the same manner.
Martyrdom of three Sisters.
Three sisters, Chionia, Agape, and Irene, were seized upon at
Thessalonica. They had been educated in the Christian faith, but
had taken great precautions to remain unknown. They therefore re-
tired to a solitary place, and spent their hours in performing religious
duties. Being, however, discovered and seized, they renounced their
former timidity, blamed themselves for being so fearful, and begged
of God to strengthen them against the great trial they had to undergo.
When Agape was examined before Dulcatius, the governor, and
was asked whether she was disposed to comply with the laws of the
land, and obey the mandates of the emperor ? she answered, " That
being a Christian, she could not comply with any laws which recom-
mended the Avorship of idols and devils ; that her resolution was fixed,
and nothing should deter her from continuing in it." Her sister Chio-
nia replied in the same manner ; when the governor, not being able to
draw them from their faith, pronounced sentence of condemnation on
them ; pursuant to which they were burnt, March 25, A. D. 304.
Irene was then brought before the governor, who fancied that the
death of her sisters would have an effect upon her fears, and that the
dread of similar sufferings, would engage her to comply with his pro-
posals. He therefore exhorted her to acknowledge the heathen dei
ties, to sacrifice to them, to partake of the victims, and to deliver up
her books relative to Christianity. But she positively refused to com-
ply with any of them : the governor asked her, who it was that persua-
(50 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
ded her and her sisters to keep those books and writings? She answer-
ed. It Avas that God who commanded them to love him to the last ;
for which reason she was resolved to submit to be burned alive rather
than give them up into the hands of his professed enemies.
When the governor found that he could make no impression on her,
he ordered her to be exposed naked in the streets ; which shameful or-
der having been executed, she was burnt, April, A. D. 304, at the same
place where her sisters had suffered before her.
MartyrdGm of Theodotus and others.
Theotecnus, the governor of Dalmatia, whose cruelty could be
equalled by nothing but his bigotry, received the mandate for persecu-
ting the Christians with great satisfaction, and wrote the emperor word
that he would do his utmost endeavours to root out Christianity from
every place under his jurisdiction. Thus encouraged by the gover-
nor, the pagans began to inform against, abuse and persecute the Chris-
tians. Great numbers were seized upon and imprisoned; their goods
were destroyed, and their estates confiscated. Many fled into the
woods, or retired to caves, where some supported themselves by feed-
ing upon roots, and others perished by famine. Many were also
staxwed in the city, by means of the following singular stratagem : The
governor gave strict orders, that no provisions whatever should be ex-
posed to sale in the markets without having been first consecrated to
the idols; hence the Christians were compelled to eat what had been
ofiered to the devil, or to refrain from food and perish. The latter
dreadful alternative was chosen by many, who, to preserve the purity
of their faith, heroically gave up their lives.
In these dreadful times, Theodotus, a Christian innkeeper of Ancyra,
did all that he could to comfort the imprisoned, and buried the bodies
of several who had been martyred, though it wa3 forbidden on pain
of death. He likewise privately assisted many with food; for having
laid in a great stock of corn and wine, he sold it at prime cost.
Polychronicus, a Christian, being seized, forfeited his faith, in order
to preserve his life, and informed against his friend, Theodotus, who
hearing of this treachery, surrendered himself to the governor, of his
own accord.
On his arrival in the court, he surveyed the instruments of torture
with a smile, and seemed totally regardless of their effects. When
placed at the bar, the governor informed him, that it was still in his
power to save himself, by sacrificing to the gods of the empire ; " and,"
he continued, " if you renounce your faith in Christ, I promise you my
friendship, and the emperor's protection, and will constitute you one
of the magistrates of the town."
Theodotus displayed great courage and eloquence in his answer:
he absolutely refused to renounce his faith, declined the friendship of
the governor and protection of the emperor, and treated the idols with
the greatest contempt. The pagans, on this, were in general extremely
clamorous against the prisoner, and demanded him to be immediately
punished ; the priests, in particular, rent their clothes, and tore their
chaplets, the badges of their offices, through rage. The governor
complied with their desire, when Theodotus was scourged, torn with
hooks, and then placed upon the rack. After this, vinegar wrs pour-
ed into his wounds, his flesh was seared with burnino- torches, and liis
TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 61
teeth were knocked out of their sockets. He was then remanded to
prison, and as he went, pointing to his mangled body, he said to the
people, "It is butju^t that Christians should suffer for him who suf-
fered for us all." Five days afterwards he was brought from prison,
tortured, and then beheaded.
There was one Victor, a native of Ancyra, accused by the priests of
Diana of having abused their goddess. For this imputed crime, he
was seized upon, and committed to prison, his house plundered, his
family turned out of doors, and his estate forfeited. When put to the
rack his resolution failed, and he began to waver in his faith, through
the severity of his torments. Being carried back to prison, in order
to make a full recantation, God punished him for his intended apos-
tacy ; for his wounds mortified, and put an end to his life.
Seven aged women of Ancyra were about this time apprehended for
their faith ; they were examined before the governor, who reviled their
belief, ridiculed their age, and ordered them to be delivered over to
some young libertines : on this, one of the fellows, more bold than the
rest, seized upon the eldest of the women, named Tccusa, Avho thus
addressed him : " What designs, child, can you have on us, Avho are
worn out with age and infirmities ? I am now more than threescore
and ten years old, my companions are not much younger ; you may
look on us as so many rotten carcasses, as we shall soon be, for the
governor after death refuses us burial." Then lifting up her veil, she
shewed him her grey hairs, and added : " You may, perhaps, have a
mother of nearly the same age as myself; this should give you some
respect for us." The young men were so affected with this speech,
that they desisted, and immediately returned to their homes.
The governor, on the failure of his design of having them prostitu-
ted, determined to compel them to assist in the idolatrous rites of wash-
ing the goddesses Minerva and Diana ; for in Ancyra it was the cus-
tom, annually to wash the im.ages of those goddesses, and the wash-
ing was considered as a material part of the adoration of the idols.
Accordingly they were forced to the temple ; but absolutely refusing
to wash the idols, the governor was so enraged, that he ardered them
all to have stones tied about their necks, and to be pushed into the
water intended for the washing, in which they were drowned.
It now happened that, weary of the toils of state, Diocletian and
Maximian resigned the imperial diadem, and were succeeded by
Constantius and Galerius ; the former, a prince of the most mild
and humane disposition ; and the latter, remarkable for his tyranny
and cruelty. These divided the empire into two equal governments ;
Galerius ruling in the East, and Constantius in the West ; and the
people in the two governments felt the effects of the different dispo-
sitions of the emperors ; for those in the West were governed in the
mildest manner, but such as resided in the East felt all the miseries
of cruelty and oppression.
Dreadful Persecutions hy Galerius.
As Galerius bore an implacable hatred towards the Christians, we
are informed, that "he not only condemned them to tortures, but
to be burnt, in slow fires, in this horrible manner : they were first
chained to a post, then a gentle fire put to the soles of their feet,
which contracted the callus till it fi^ll off from the bone ; then flam
g2 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
beaux just extinguished were put to all parts of their bodies, so that
(hey inio-ht be tortured all over ; and care was taken to keep them
alive, by° throwing cold water in their faces, and giving them some
to wash their mouths, lest their throats should be dried up with thirst,
and choke them. Thus their miseries were lengthened out whole
days, till at last, their skins being consumed, and they just ready to
expire, were thrown into a great fire, and had their bodies burned to
ashes, after which their ashes were thrown into some river."
Julitta, a Lycaonian of royal descent, was a Christian lady of
great humility, constancy, and integrity. When the edict for sacri-
licing to idols was published at Iconium, she withdrew from that city,
taking with her only her young son Cyricus, and two female servants.
She was however seized at Tarsus, and being carried before Alexan-
der, the governor, she acknowledged she was a Christian. For this
confession her son was taken from her, and she was immediately put
to the rack, and tortured with great severity, which she bore with
pious resignation. The child, however, cried bitterly to get at his
mother ; when the governor, observing the beauty, and being melted
at the tears of the infant, took him upon his knee, and endeavoured
to pacify him. Nothing, however, could quiet Cyricus ; he still called
upon his mother, and at length, in imitation of her words, lisped out,
" I am a Christian." This innocent expression turned the governor's
compassion into rage ; and throwing the child furiously against the
pavement, he dashed out its brains. The mother, who from the rack
beheld the transaction, thanked the Almighty that her child was
gone before her : and she should have no anxiety concerning his fu-
ture welfare. To complete the torture, boiling pitch was poured on
her feet, her sides were torn with hooks, and she was finally beheaded,
April 16, A. D. 305.
Pantaleon, a native of Nicomedia, was instructed by his father in
the learning of the pagans, and was taught the precepts of the gospel
by his mother, who was a Christian. Applying to the study of medi-
cine, he became eminent in that science, and was appointed physician
to the Emperor Galerius. The name of Pantaleon in Greek signifies
humane, and the appellation well suited his nature, for he was one of
the most benevolent men of his time ; but his extraordinary reputation
roused tlie jealousy of the pagan physicians, who accused him to the
emperor. Galerius, on finding him a Christian, ordered him to be
tortured, and then beheaded, which sentence was accordingly executed
on July 27, A. D. 305.
Hermolaus, an aged and pious Christian, and an intimate acquaint-
ance cf Pantaleon, suffered martyrdom for his faith on the same day,
and in the same manner.
Juitta, of Cappadocia, was a lady of distinguished abilities, great
virtue, and uncommon courage : she was put to death in consequence
of the accusation of a heathen who had usurped her estates, and
bribed the judges in his favour. Refusing to offer incense to the pa-
gandeities, she was burnt to death.
Eustratius, secretary to the governor of Armenia, was thrown into
a furnace, for exhorting some Christians, who had been apprehended,
to persevere in their faith. Auxentius and Eugenius, two of Eustra-
tius's adherents, were burnt at Nicopolis ; Mardarius, another friend
of his expired under torment ; and Orestes, a military officer, was
TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION. 63
broiled to death on a gridiron, for Avearmg a golden cross at his
breast. Theodore, a Syrian by birth, a soldier and a Christian, set
fire to the temple of Cybele, in Amasia, through indignation at the
idolatrous worship practised in it, for which he was scourged, and on
February 18, A. D. 306, burnt lo death.
Dorothea, a Christian of Cappadocia, was, by the governor's order,
placed under the care of two Avomen, who had become apostates to
the faith, in order that she might be induced to follow their example.
But her discourses had such an effect upon the two apostates, that they
were reconverted, and put to death ; soon after which, Dorothea was
tortured, and then beheaded.
Pancratius was a native of Phrygia, but being made a Christian,
and brought to Rome, by his \mcle, he there suffered martyrdom.
Cyrinus, Nazarius, Nabor, and Basilides, four Christian officers at
Rome, were thrown into prison for their faith, scourged with rods
of wire, and then beheaded.
Two Roman military officers, Nicander and Marcian, were appre-
hended on the same account. As they were both men of great abili-
ties, the utmost endeavours were made to induce them to renounce
Christianity; but being without effect, they were ordered to be behead-
ed. The execution was attended by vast crowds of the populace,
among whom were the wives of the two sufferers. The consort of
Nicander was a Christian, and encouraged her husband to meet his
fate with fortitude ; but the wife of Marcian being a pagan, entreated
her husband to save himself, for the sake of her and her child. Mar-
cian, however, reproved her for her idolatry and folly, but tenderly
embraced her and the infant. Nicander likewise took leave of his
wife in the most affectionate manner, and then both, Avith great reso-
lution, received the crown of martyrdom. Besides these, there were
many others, Avhose names and sufferings are not recorded by the
ancient historians.
Martyrdoms in Naples.
In the kingdom of Naples several martyrdoms took place : in par-
ticular, Januarius, bishop of Beneventum ; Sosius, deacon of Misene ;
Proculus, another deacon ; Eutyches and Acutius, two laymen ; Fes-
tus, a deacon ; and Desiderius, a curate, were all condemned, by the
governor of Campania, to be devoured by wild beasts for professing
Christianity. The animals, however, not touching them, they were
beheaded.
Marcellus, a centurion of the Trajan legion, Avas posted at Tangier,
and being a Christian, suffered martyrdom, under the folloAving cir-
cumstances :
While he Avas there, the emperor's birth day Avas kept, and the sa-
crifices to the pagan idols made a considerable part of that solemnity.
All the subjects of the empire Avere expected, on that occasion, to con-
form to the blind religion of their prince; but Marcellus, aa'Iio had been
well instructed in the duties of his profession, expressed his detesta-
tion of those profane practices, by throwing aAvay his belt, the badge
of his military character, at the head of his company, declaring aloud
that he Avas a soldier of Christ, the eternal king. He then quitted his
arms, and added, that from that moment he ceased to serve the empe-
ror ; and that he thus expressed his contempt of the gods of the em-
64
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
pirc, which vvere no better than deaf and dumb idols. " If," conti-
nued he, " their imperial majesties impose the obligation of sacrificing
to them and their gods, as a necessary condition of their service, I
here throw up my commission, and qait the army." This behaviour
occasioned an order for his being beheaded. Cassian, secretary to
the court which tried Marcellus, expressing his disapprobation of such
proceedings, was ordered into custody ; when avowing himself a
Christian, he met with the same fate.
Martyrdom of Si. George.
George was born in Cappadocia, of Christian parents ; by whom he
was instructed in the tenets of the gospel. His father dying when he
was young, he travelled with his mother into Palestine, which was her
native country, where she inherited an estate, which afterwards de-
scended to her son. George being active and spirited, became a sol-
dier, and was made a tribune or colonel. In this post he exhibited
great proofs of his courage, and was promoted in the army of Diocle-
tian. During the persecution, he threw up his command, went boldly
to the senate-house, and avowed his being a Christian, taking occa-
sion at the same time to remonstrate against paganism. This conduct
so greatly provoked the senate, that he was ordered to be tortured,
which he undei-went with great constancy. He was afterwards, by
the emperor's orders, dragged through the streets and beheaded.
Constantine becomes the champion of the Christians.
Constantine the Great at length determined to redress the grievances
of the Christians, for which purpose he raised an army of 30,000 foot,
and 8000 horse, with which he marched towards Rome, against Maxen-
tius, the emperor. But reflecting on the fatal miscarriages of his pre-
decessors, who had maintained a multiplicity of gods, and reposed an
entire confidence in their assistance ; and considering that while his
own father adored only one God he continually prospered ; Constan-
tine rejected the adoration of idols, and implored the assistance of the
Almighty ; who heard his prayers, and answered them in a manner so
surprising and miraculous, that Eusebius acknowledges it would not
have been credible, had lie not received it from the emperor's own
mouth, who publicly and solemnly ratified the truth upon his oath.
The vision of Constantine.
This vision of Constantine appears, upon the whole, to be entitled
to little credit. Some ecclesiastical historians, indeed, and among
them Milner, seem to admit the reality of the miracle ; but the weight
of evidence is certainly against it. Dr. Haweis gives up the miracle
altogether, and pronounces it " an imposition." " The whole story,"
says the translator of Mosheim, " is attended with difficulties which
render it, both as a miracle and a fact, extremely dubious." To this
it may be added, that Eusebius, who has transmitted the account to us,
and to whom Constantine related it, does not himself appear to have
believed it. Neither the day, nor the year, the time, nor the place of
the vision, is recorded. No evidence exists that any of the army sav,'
the phenom.enon ; and more than all, why, if Constantine believed it
himself, did he neglect to be baptized, till on his death bed, man-
years after the occurrence is said to have happened ? In short, there
TENTH GENERAL PERSECUTION 65
contrivance to stimulate the army to greater zeal in the then ap-
proaching contest. — Ed.
The army being advanced near Rome, and the emperor employed
n his devout ejaculations, on the 27th day of October, about three
o'clock in the afternoon, when the sun was declining, there suddenly
appeared to him a pillar of light in the heavens, in the form of a cross,
with this plain inscription on or about it, " In this overcome."
Constantino was greatly surprised at this strange sight, which was
visible to the whole army, who equally wondered at it Vvith himself.
The officers and commanders, prompted by the augurs and auspices,
or sooth-sayers, looked upon it as an inauspicious omen, portending
an unfortunate expedition ; the emperor himself did not understand it,
till at length our Saviour appeared to him in a vision, with the cross in
his hand, commanding him to make a royal standard, like that he had
seen in the heavens, and cause it to be continually carried before his
army, as an ensign both of victory and safety. Early the next morn-
ing, Constantino informed his friends and officers of what he had seen
in the night, and sending for proper workmen, sat down by them and
described to them the form of the standard, which he then ordered
them to make with the greatest art and magnificence ; and accordingly
they made it thus : a long spear, plated with gold, with a transverse
piece at the top, in the form of a cross, to which was 'fastened a four-
square purple banner, embroidered with gold, and beset with precious
stones, which reflected an amazing lustre ; towards the top was de-
picted the emperor between his two sons ; on the top of the shaft,
above the cross, stood a crown, overlaid with gold and jewels, within
which was placed the sacred symbol, namely, the two first letters of
Christ in Greek, X and P, struck one through the other : this device
he afterwards bore not only upon his shields, but also upon his coins,
many of which are still extant.
Death of Maximus and Licinius.
Afterwards engaging Maxentius, he defeated him, and entered the
city of Rome in triumph. A law was now published in favour of the
Christians, in which Licinius joined with Constantine, and a copy of
it was sent to Maximus in the East. Maximus, who was a bigoted
pagan, greatly disliked the edict, but being afraid of Constantine, did
not, however, openly avow his disapprobation of it. At length, he
invaded the territories of Licinius ; but being defeated, put an end to
his life by poison. The death of Maxentius has already been de-
scribed.
Licinius was not really a Christian, but afiected to appear such,
through dread of Constantino's power ; for even after publishing se-
veral edicts in favour of the Cliristians, he put to death Blase, bishop
of Sebaste, several bishops and priests of Egypt and Lybia, who were
cut to pieces and thrown into the sea, and forty soldiers of the gar-
rison of Sebaste, who suflercd martyrdom by fire. This cruelty and
hypocrisy greatly incensed Constantine ; he marched against Licini-
us, and defeated him, and that commander was afterwards slain by
his own soldiers.
5
-.„ ' BOOK OF MARTYRS.
GG
REMARKS ON THE VENGEANCE OF GOD TOWARDS THE PERSECUTORS
OF THE CHRISTIANS.
We cannot close our account of the ten persecutions under the
Roman emperors, without calling the attention of the Christian reader
10 the manifestations of the great displeasure of the Almighty against
the persecutors. History evidently proves, that no nation or indivi-
dual can ultimately prosper, by whom Christ Jesus, the Son of <Jod,
is contemned. During the persecutions of the holy martyrs which
we have related above, the Roman people were the victims of the
cruelty and tyranny of their rulers, and the empire was perpetually
torn and distracted by civil Avars. In the reign of Tiberius, five
thousand were crushed to death by the fall of a theatre, and on many
other occasions the divine wrath was manifested against that cruel
and merciless nation.
Neither did the emperors themselves escape without their just re-
ward. Tiberius was murdered ; as v/ere his three immediate succes-
sors. Galba, after a reign of only seven months, was put to death by
Otho, who being vanquished by Vitellius, killed himself. Vitellius,
shortly after, was tortured, and his body thrown into the Tiber. Ti-
tus is said to have been poisoned by his brother Domitian, who was
afterwards slain by his wife. Commodus was strangled. Pertinax
and Didius were put to death; Severus killed himself; Caraccalla
slew his brother Geta, and was in his turn slain by Macrinus, who,
with his son, was afterwards killed by his own soldiers. Heliogaba-
lus was put to death by the people. Alexander Severus, a virtuous
emperor, was murdered by Maximinus, who was afterwards slain by
his own army. Pupienus and Balbinus were murdered by the Pra3-
torian guards. Gordian and Phihp were slain. Decius was drowned,
and his son killed in battle. Gallus and Volusianus were murdered
by jEmilianus, who within three months afterwards was himself
slain. Valerian was taken prisoner by the Persians, and at length
flayed alive, and his son Gallienus was assassinated. Aurelian %yas
murdered ; as" were Tacitus, Florianus, and Probus. Galerius died
in a miserable manner, as did Maximinus of a horrible and loathsome
disease. Maxentius, being conquered by Constantine, was drowned
in his attempt to escape ; and Licinius was deposed, and slain by his
soldiers.
The .Tews, also, for their obstinacy and wickedness in rejecting the
gospel so graciously offered to them by Jesus Christ, were signally
punished. Forty years had scarcely elapsed from the crucifixion of
our Saviour, when Jerusalem was levelled with the ground, and more
than a million of the Jews killed ; innumerable multitudes sold for
slaves ; and many thousands torn to pieces by wild beasts, or other-
wise cruelly slain. Indeed the nation may be said to have been an-
nihilated— its political existence was terminated, and the descendants
of that people, which was once peculiarly favoured of God, are now
scattered over the face of the earth — a by-word and a reproach among
the nations.
Thus it is evident that wickedness and infidelity are certainly,
though sometimes slowly, punished by Him who is just, although
merciful; and if he has hitherto graciously refrained from visiting the
PERSECUTIONS IN PERSIA. g?
sins of this nation with the punishment which they deserve, let us not
be vain of that exemption : let us not attribute it to any merit of our
own ; but rather let it afford an additional motive to our gratitude and
praise ; let us unfeignedly thank him for his tender mercies daily
vouchsafed to us ; and while we bow before him in humble adoration,
let us earnestly endeavour to preserve our worship of him, free from
all ungodliness and superstition. So shall Ave not only secure our hap-
piness in this world, but, in the end, attain everlasting joy and felici-
ty, through the merits of our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ,
who gave up himself as a precious sacrifice for our transgressions.
BOOK II.
AN ACCOUNT OF THE PERSECUTIONS OF THE CHRISTIANS IN PERSIA BY
SAPORES II. ; IN EGYPT, &C. BY THE ARIAN HERETICS ; BY JULIAN
THE APOSTATE ; BY THE GOTHS, VANDALS, &C. &C
SECTION I.
PERSECUTIONS OF THE CHRISTIANS IN PERSIA.
In consequence of the gospel having spread itself into Persia, the
pagan priests became greatly alarmed, dreading the loss of their influ-
ence over the minds of their people. Sapores II., the grandson of Sa-
pores I., at this time swayed the sceptre of Persia, 4. D. 328. To him,
therefore, the priests complained of the Christians, -epresenting them
to be the enemies of Persia, and secretly carrying on a correspon-
dence with the Roman government. Naturally averse to Christiani-
ty, the jealousy and hatred of Sapores were greatly increased by the
above representations of the priests, and orders were issued for the
persecution of the Christians, throughout the Persian empire. Two
other persecutions followed the above ; but the third, it is said, was
more Cruel and destructive than either of the others.
Martyrdom of Simeon and others.
In consequence of the above mandate of Sapores, Simeon arch-
bishop of Seleucia, with many other ecclesiastics, to the number of 128,
were apprehended, and accused of having betrayed the affairs of Per-
sia to the Romans. The emperor being greatly exasperated against
them, ordered Simeon to be brought before him. The archbishop in
his presence boldly acknowledged his faith, and defended the cause of
Christianity. The emperor, offended at his freedom, ordered him to
kneel before him as he had heretofore done. To this Simeon an-
swered, " That being now brought before him a prisoner, for the truth
of his religion, it was not lawful for him to kneel, lest he should be
thought to worship a man, and betray his faith to his God." Where-
gg BOOK OP MARTYRS.
upon the emperor told him, that if he did not kneel, he and all the
Christians in his dominions should be put to death ; but Simeon
still rejected the command with disdain. The emperor then ordered
him to be sent to prison.
A short time after, Simeon, with his fellow prisoners, was again
examined, and commanded to worship the sun, agreeably to the Per-
sian custom ; but this they unanimously refused. The emperor then
sentenced them to be beheaded, which sentence was accordingly
executed.
An aged eunuch, named Usthazares, who had been tutor to the em-
peror, and was in great estimation at court, meeting Simeon as he was
led to prison, saluted him. Simeon, however, (as Usthazares had for-
merly been a Christian, and had apostatized to oblige the emperor,)
would not return his salute, but reproved him for his apostacy. This
so affected the eunuch, that he burst into tears,and exclaimed, " Ah !
how shall I hereafter look upon my God, whom I have denied, when
Simeon, my old companion and familiar acquaintance, disdains to
give me a gentle word, or to return my salute !"
The emperor learning that his ancient tutor was greatly afflicted,
sent for him, and asked him whether he desired any thing which could
be procured for him ; to which the eunuch replied, " That there was
nothing that he wanted, which this earth could afford ; but that his
grief was of another kind, and for which he justly mourned, namely,
that to oblige his sovereign he had denied his God, and had dissem-
blingly worshipped the sun, against his own conscience ; for which,"
continued he, " I am deserving of a double death; first, for denying of
Christ, and secondly, for dissembling with my king."
The emperor, greatly offended at this speech, ordered Usthazares to
be beheaded ; who therfore requested that it might be proclaimed,
" That Usthazares did not die for any crime against the emperor oi
state ; but only that being a Christian, he would not deny his God."
This petition was granted and was a great satisfaction to Usthazares,
whose chief reason for desiring it Avas, because his falling off from
Christ had caused many others to follow his example ; who now hear-
ing that he died for no crime but his religion, might, like him, return
to Christ and the faith. Usthazares then cheerfully yielded his neck
to the sword.
Soon after the above execution, an edict was published, ordering
that all who confessed themselves Christians, should be put to death ;
which caused the destruction of multitudes. About this time the em-
press of Persia falling sick, the sisters of Simeon, the archbishop, were
accused by some of the magi of causing this calamity. This report
being credited, they were by the emperor's orders, sawed in quarters,
and their limbs fixed upon poles, between which the empress passed
as a charm to effect the restoration of her health.
Acepsimus, and many other ecclesiastics, were seized, and ordered
to adore the sun ; which refusing, they Avere scourged, and then tor-
mented to death, or kept in prison till they expired. Athalas, a priest
though not put to death, was so miserably racked, that his arms were
rendered useless ; and he was ever after obliged to be fed like a child.
In short, by this edict, above 1G,000 persons either suffered horribly
by torture, or lost their lives.
ARIAN PERSECUTION. 59
Constantine writes to the king of Persia in favour of the Christians.
When Constantine the Great was informed of the persecutions in
Persia, he was much concerned, and began to reflect in what manner
he should redress their grievances, when an ambassador arrived from
the Persian emperor upon some political business. Constantine re-
ceived him courteously, granted his demands, and wrote a letter to
the Persian monarch in favour of the Christians, in which he alluded
to the vengeance that had fallen on persecutors, and the success that
had attended those who had refrained from the persecution; and then
referring to the tyrants and persecuting emperors of his own time, he
said, "I subdued those solely by faith in Christ; for which God was
my helper, who gave me victory in battle, and made me triumph over
my enemies, and hath so enlarged to me the bounds of the Roman
empire, that it extends from the Western Ocean almost to the utter-
most parts of the East : for which purpose I neither offered sacrifices
to the ancient deities, nor made use of charm or divination ; but only
offered up prayers to the Almighty God, and followed the cross of
Christ : and how glad should I be to hear that the throne of Persia
flourished, by embracing the Christians ! that so you with me, and
they with you, may enjoy all the felicity your souls could desire ; as
undoubtedly you would, God, the Almighty Creator of all things, be-
coming your protector and defender. These men, therefore, I com-
mend to your honour ; I commit them unto you, desiring you to em-
brace them with humanity ; for in so doing, you wilf procure to
yourelf grace through faith, and bestow on me a benefit worthy of mv
thanks." ^ '
In consequence of this appeal, the persecution ended during the
life of Sapores ; but it was renewed under his successors.
SECTION II.
PERSECUTIONS BY THE ARIAN HERETICS.
The sect denominated the Arian heretics, had its origin from Arius,*
a native of Lybia, and priest of Alexandria, who, in A. D. 318, began
to publish his errors. He was condemned by a council of Lybian and
Egyptian bishops, and the sentence was confirmed by the council of
Nice, A. D. 325. After the death of Constantine the Great, the Arians
found means to ingratiate themselves into the favour of Constantius, his
son and successor in the East; and hence a persecution was raised
agamst the orthodox bishops and clergy. The celebrated Athanasius,
and other bishops, were banished at this period, and their sees tilled
with Arians.
In Egypt and Lybia, thirty bishops were martyred, and many other
Christians cruelly tormented ; and A. D. 336, George, the Arian bishop
of Alexandria, under the authority of the emperor, began a persecu-
tion m that city and its environs, which was continued with the ut-
* Arius, the founder of this sect of heretics, anJ the first cause of the persecutions
which are related in this section, died miserably at Constantinople, just as he was about
to enter the church in triumph. "^
70
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
most severity. He was assisted by Catophonius, governor of Egypt;
Sebastian, general of the Egyptian forces, Faustinus, the treasurci,
and a Roman officer, named Heraclius. Indeed, so fierce was this pei -
secution, that the clergy were driven from Alexandria, their churches
were shut, and the severities practised by the ArJan heretics were
as great as those which had been exercised by the pagan idolaters. If
a man accused of being a Christian made his escape, his Avhole fami-
ly were massacred, and his effects forfeited. By this means, the or-
thodox Christians, being deprived of all places of public worship in
the city of Alexandria, used to perform their devotions in a desert at
some distance from it. Having, one Lord's day, met for worship,
George, the Arian bishop, engaged Sebastian, the general, to fall upon
them with his soldiers, while they were at prayers : and many were
sacrificed to the fury of the troops, while others were reser^ ed for
more cruel and lingering deaths ; some were beaten on their faces till
all their features Avere disfigured ; or were lashed with twigs of palm-
trees, with such violence, that they expired under the blows, or by
the mortification of their wounds. Several, Avhose lives had been
spared, were, however, banished to the deserts of Africa, Avhere, amidst
all their sufferings, they passed their time in prayer.
Secundus, an orthodox priest, differing in point of doctrine from a
prelate of the same name, the bishop, who had imbibed all the opi-
nions of Arianism, determined to put Secundus to death, for rejecting
opinions Avhich he himself had embraced. He therefore went with one
Stephen, an Arian also, sought out Secundus privately, fell upon and
murdered him ; the holy m^artyr, just before he expired, calling upon
Christ to receive his soul, and to forgive his enemies.
At this time, not satisfied with the cruelties exercised upon the or-
thodox Christians in Alexandria, the principal persecutors applied to
the emperor for an order to banish them from Egypt and Lybia, and
to give up their churches to the Arians : they obtained their request,
and an order was sent for that purpose to Sebastian, who signified the
emperor's pleasure to all the sub-governors and officers. Hence a
great number of the clergy were seized and imprisoned ; and it ap-
pearing that they adopted the opinions of Athanasius, an order was
signed for their banishment into the desert. While the orthodox cler-
gy were thus used, many of the laity were condemned to the mines, or
compelled to work in the quarries. Some few, indeed, escaped to
other countries, and several were weak enough to renounce their faith,
in order to avoid the severities of the persecutors.
Persecution of Paul.
Paul, the bishop of Constantinople, was a Macedonian, and had been
designed, from his birth, for a clerical life. When Alexander, the pre-
decessor of Paul, Avas on his death-bed, he Avas consulted by some of
the clergy on the choice of a successor ; AA^hen he told them, "That if
they were disposed to choose a person of exemplary life, and tho-
roughly capable of instructing the people, Paul Avas the man ; but if
they had rather have a man acquainted Avith Avorldly affairs, and fit for
the conversation of a court, they might then choose Macedonius."
This latter was a deacon in the church of Constantinople, in Avhich of-
fice he had spent many years, and gained great experience ; and the
d-^nng prelate did both him and Paul justice in their different charac-
ARIAN PERSECUTION. 71
ters. Nevertheless, the Arians gave out, that Alexander had bestowed
great commendations on Macedonius for sanctity, and had only given
Paul the reputation of eloquence, and a capacity for business : after
some struggle, the orthodox party carried their point, and Paul was
consecrated. Macedonius, offended at this preference, did his utmost
to calumniate the new bishop, but not gaining belief, he dropped the
charge, and was reconciled to him. This, however, was not the case
with Eusebius of Nicomedia, who accused Paul of having led a disor-
derly life before his consecration ; and of having been placed in the
see of Constantinople without the consent of the bishops of Nicomedia
and Heraclea, two metropolitans, who ought to have been consulted
upon that occasion.
Eusebius, to support these accusations, procured the emperor's au-
thority, by representing, that Paul having been chosen during the ab-
sence of Constantius, the imperial dignity had been insulted. This
artifice succeeded, and Paul being deposed, Eusebius succeeded
him.
Paul having thus lost all authority in the East, retired to the terri-
tories of Constans, in the West, where he was well received by the
orthodox prelates and clergy. At Rome he visited Athanasius, and
assisted at a council held there, by Julius, the bishop of that see. Let-
ters being written by this council to the eastern prelates, Paul return-
ed to Constantinople, but Avas not restored to his bishopric till the
death of Eusebius. The Arians, however, constituting Macedonius
their bishop, by the title of bishop of Constantinople, a kind of civil
war ensued, in which many were put to death.
Constantius, the emperor, who was then at Antioch, hearing of
this schisro; laid the whole blame upon Paul, and ordered that 'ie
should be driyen from Constantinople. But Hermogenr*; the cnicer
who had received the emperor's order, attempted in vain to put it inio
execution ; being slain by the orthodox Christians, who had risen in
defence of Paul. This event greatly exasperated the emperor, Avho
left Antioch in the depth of winter, and returned to Constantinople,
with a design to punish the Christians. Hc; however, contented him-
self with banishing Paul, and suspending Macedonius. Paul then
again retired to the territories of Constans, implored the protection of
that emperor, and by his intercession, was again vested in his see.
His re-establishment exasperated his enemies, who made many at-
tempts against his life, against which the affections of hi? people
were his only security ; and being convinced that the emperor had no
other motive for allowing his stay at Constantinople, but the dread ot
disobliging his brother, Paul could not think himself wholly restored
to his bishopric ; and being very much concerned at what the ortho-
dox bishops suffered from the power and malice of the Arian faction,
he joined Athanasius, who was then in Italy, in soliciting a general
council. This council was held at Sardica, in Illyrium, in the year
347, at which were present one hundred bishops of the western,
and seventy-three of the eastern empire. But disagreeing in many
points, the Arian bishops of the East retired to Philipoppolis, in
Thrace ; and forming a meeting there, they termed it the council ot
Sardica, from which place they pretended to issue an excommunica-
tion against Julius, bishop of Rome, Paul, bishop of Constantino-
ple, Athanasius bishop of Alexandria, .and several other prelates. In-
,^2 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
the year 350, the Emperor Constans died, Avhich gave the Arians fresh
courage, and they applied to the Emperor Constantius, who, beuig in-
clined towards the Arians, wrote an order to the prefect PhiHp, to re-
move Paul from the bishopric of Constantinople, and to restore Ma-
cedonius. Paul was then exiled to Ciicucus, confined in a dark dun-
geon for six days, without food, and then strangled. He met death
with uncommon fortitude.
The Arian party now made Gregory of Cappadocia, a very obscure
person, bishop of Alexandria, after having deposed Athanasius. In
the accomplishment of this affair, they were assisted by Philagerius,
the governor of Egypt, who was an apostate, and who authorized
them to commit every outrage. Hence, arming themselves with
swords, clubs, «fcc. they broke into one of the principal churches ol
Alexandria, where great numbers of orthodox Christians were assem-
bled at their devotions ; and falling upon them in a most barbarous
manner, without the least respect to sex or age, butchered the greater
number. Potamo, a venerable bishop of Heraclea, who had formerly
lost one of his eyes in Diocletian's persecution, fell a martyr upon
this occasion, being so cruelly scourged and beaten, that he died oi
his wounds. The Arians also broke into many places, public and pri-
vate, under a pretence of searching for Athanasius, and committed
innumerable barbarities ; robbing orphans, plundering the houses oi
widows, dragging virgins to private places to be the sacrifices of de-
sire, imprisoning the clergy, burning churches and dwelling houses
belonging to the orthodox Christians ; besides other enormous cru-
elties.
SECTI03N III.
PERSFXUTIONS UND.^U TULJAV T.HE APOSTATE.
Julian the Apostate was the son of Julius Constantius, and the ne
phew of Constantino the Great. He studied the rudiments of gram-
mar under the inspection of Mardonius, a eunuch and a heathen. His
father sent him afterwards to Nicomedia, to be instructed in the
Christian religion, by Eusebius, his kinsman ; but his principles were
corrupted by the pernicious doctrines of Maximus the magician, and
Ecebolius the professor of rhetoric.
Constantius died in the year 361, when Julian succeeded him; but
he had no sooner obtained the imperial dignity, than he renounced
Christianity, and embraced paganism. He again restored idolatrous
worship, by opening the several temples that had been shut up, re-
building such as were destroyed, and ordering the magistrates and
people to follow his example ; but he did not issue any edicts against
Christianity. He recallecl all banished pagans, alloAved the free ex-
ercise of religion to every sect, but deprived the Christians of all of-
fices, civil and military, and the clergy of the privileges granted to
them by Constantine the Great. He was chaste, temperate, vigilant,
laborious, and apparently pious ; so that by his hypocrisy and pre-
tended virtues, he for a time did more mischief to Christianity than
\he most profligate of his predecessors.
PERSECUTIONS BY JULIAN. 75
Accordingly, this persecution was more dangerous than anv of the
former, as Julian, under the mask of clemency, practised the greatest
cruelty, in seeking to delude the true believers ; and the Christian
faith was now in more danger of being subverted than it ever had
been, by means of a monarch at once witty and wicked, learned and
hypocritical ; who, at first, made his attempts by flattering gifts and
favours, bestowing offices and dignities ; and then, by prohibiting
Christian schools, he compelled the children either to become idola-
ters, or to remain illiterate.
Julian ordered that Christians might be treated coldly upon all
occasions, and in all parts of the empire, and employed witty persons
to turn them and their principles into ridicule. Many were likewise
martyred in his reign ; for though he did not publicly persecute them
himself, he connived at their being murdered by his governors and
officers ; and though he affected never to reward them for those cruel-
ties, neither did he ever punish them. We might give a long cata-
logue of persons who suffered during this reign, but our limits permit
us to notice only the death of Basil.
Martyrdom of Basil.
By his opposition to Arianism, Basil made himself famous, which
brought upon him the vengeance of the Arian bishop of Constantino-
ple, who issued an order to prevent him from preaching. He conti-
nued, however, to perform his duty at Ancyra, the capital of Galatia,
till his enemies accused him of being an incendiary, and a disturber
of the public peace ; Julian, however, was too intent on an expedi-
tion to Persia, to take notice of the accusation, and the malice of his
enemies at that time being wholly frustrated, he continued to preach
against the idolatry of paganism on the one hand, and the errors of
Arianism on the other ; earnestly exhorting the people to serve Christ
in the purity of faith, and fervency of truth.
One day meeting with a number of pagans going in procession to
a sacrifice, he boldly expressed his abhorrence of such idolatrous
proceedings, and inveighed against such absurd worship. This li-
berty caused the people to seize him, and carry him before Saturninus,
the governor, where they accused him of reviling the gods, abusing
the emperor, and disturbing the peace of the city. Having heard
these accusations, Saturninus desired to know his sentiments from
his own mouth ; when finding him a strenuous Christian, he ordered
him to be put to the rack, and then committed to prison. The gover-
nor wrote an account of his proceedings to the emperor, who was at
this time very busy in establishing the worship of Cybele, the fictitious
mothef of the fabulous deities. Julian, on receiving the letter, sent
Pagosus and Elpidius, two apostates, to Ancyra, the city where Basil
was confined, to employ both promises and threats to engage him to
renounce his faith, and in case of their failure, they had orders to
give him up to the power of the governor. The emperor's agents
tampered in vain with Basil by means of promises, threats, and tor-
tures ; he was firm in the faith, and remained in prison till the empe-
ror by accident came to Ancyra. As soon as the people knew of Ju-
lian's approach, they met him in grand procession, and presented to
him their idol, the goddess Hecate. The two agents then gave the
emperor an account of what Basil had suffered, and of his firm resist-
74
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
auce. Julian, on this, determined to examine Basil himself, when
that holy man being brought before him, the emperor did every thing
in his power to dissuade him from persevering in the faith ; but Ba-
sil not only continued firm, but with a prophetic spirit foretold the
death o£ the emperor, and that he should be tormented in the othei
world. Julian on this lost his usual affectation of clemency, and told
Basil, in great anger, that though he had an inclination to pardon him
at first, yet he had now, by the insolence of his behaviour, put it out
of his power to save his life. He then commanded that the body of
Basil should be torn every day in seven different parts, till his skin
and flesh were entirely mangled. The inhuman sentence was execu-
ted with rigour, and the martyr expired under his severities on the
28th of June, A. D. 362.
Marcus, bishop of Arethusa, having destroyed a pagan temple in
that city, erected a Christian church in its room, on which account
he Avas accused to Julian. His persecutors, stripping him naked,
cruelly beat him. He was then thrust into a filthy sewer, or sink, till
he was almost suffocated ; afterwards he was goaded with sharp-
pointed sticks : and lastly, he was hung up in a basket in the heat of
the sun, after having been smeared over Avith honey, in order to be
tormented to death by wasps. As soon as he was hung up, they asked
him if he would rebuild their temple. To which he answered, that he
would neither rebuild it, nor contribute in the smallest degree towards
it3 being rebuilt ; upon which they left him, and he fell a martyr to
the stings of the insects.
About the end of the year 363, the persecution raged with more
than usual violence. In Palestine many were burnt alive, others
were dragged by their feet through the streets naked till they expired ;
some were scalded to death, many stoned, and great numbers had
their brains beaten out with clubs. In Alexandria innumerable mar-
tyrs suffered by the sword, burning, crucifixion, and stoning. In
Arethusa, several were ripped open, and corn being put into their
belHes, swine were brought to feed thereon, who, in devouring the
grain, likewise devoured the entrails of the victim.
Christians fined for refusing to sacrifice to Idols.
When Julian intended an expedition against the Persians, he im-
posed a large fine upon every one who refused to sacrifice to the
idols, and by that means got a great sum from the Christians towards
defraying his expenses. Many of the officers, in collecting these
fines, exacted more than their due, and some of them tortured the
Christians to make them pay what they demanded, at the same time
telling them in derision, " that when they were injured, they ought
to take it patiently, for so their God hath commanded them." The
mhabitants of Cxsarea were fined in an immense sum, and several
.if the clergy obliged to serve in the wars, as a punishment for having
overthrown the temples of Jupiter, Fortune, and Apollo. The gover-
nor, at Meris, in Phrygia, having cleansed and opened a pagan tem-
ple, the Christians in the night broke in, and demolished the idols.
Next day the governor ordered all Christians that accidentally came
in the way to be seized, that he might make examples of them, and
by this means would have executed several innocent persons ; but
those who really perpetrated the act, being too just to suffer such re
FKRSECUTIONS BY THE GOTHS AND VANDALS. 75
taliation, voluntarily delivered themselves up ; when they were scour
ged severely, and then put upon gridirons and broiled to death.
Julian died of a wound which he received in liis Persian expe-
dition, A. D. 363, and even while expiring, uttered the most horrible
blasphemies. He was succeeded by Jovian, who restored peace to
the church. After the decease of Jovian, Valentinian succeeded to
the empire, and associated to himself Valens, who had the command
in the East, and was an Arian of unrelenting and persecuting dispo-
sition.
SECTION IV.
PERSECUTIONS OF THE CHRISTIANS BY THE GOTHS AND VANDALS.
Many Scythian Goths having embraced Christianity about the
time of Constantine the Great, the light of the gospel spread itself
considerably in Scythia, though the two kings who ruled that country,
and the majority of the people, continued pagans. Fritegern, king
of the West Goths, was an ally to the Romans ; but Athanarick, king
of the East Goths, was at war with them. The Christians, in the
dominions of the former, lived unmolested, but the latter, having been
defeated by the Romans, wreaked his vengeance on his Christian
subjects, commencing his pagan injunctions in the year 370.
Eusebius, bishop of Samosata, makes a most distinguished figure
in the ecclesiastical history, and was one of the most eminent cham-
pions of Christ against the Arian heresy. Eusebius, after being dri-
ven from his church, and wandering about through Syria and Pales-
tine, encouraging the orthodox, was restored with other orthodox
prelates to his see, which, however, he did not long enjoy, for an
Arian woman threw a tile at him from the top of a house, which frac-
tured his skull, and terminated his life in the year 380.
The Vandals, passing from Spain to Africa in the fifth century, un-
der their leader, Genseric, committed the most unheard-of cruelties.
They persecuted the Christians wherever they came, and even laid
waste the coimtry as they passed, that the Christians left behind,
who had escaped them, might not be able to subsist. Sometimes
they freighted a vessel with martyrs, let it drift out to sea, or set fire
to it, with the sufl'erers shackled on the decks.
Having seized and plundered the city of Carthage, they put the
bishop, and all the clergy, into a leaky ship, and committed it to the
mercy of the waves, thinking that they must all perish of course ; but
providentially the vessel arrived safe at Naples. Innumerable ortho-
dox Christians were beaten, scourged, and banished to Capsur, where
it pleased God to make them the means of converting many of the
Moors to Christianity ; but this coming to the ears of Genseric, he
sent orders that they and their new converts should be tied by the
feet to chariots, and dragged about till they were dashed to pieces.
Pampinian, the bishop of Mansuetes, was tortured to death with
plates of hot iron ; the bishop of Urice was burnt; and the bishop of
Habensa was banished, for refusing to deliver up the sacred books
which were in his possession.
76
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
The Vandalian tyrant Genseric, having made an expedition into
Italy, and plundered the city of Rome, returned to Africa, flushed
with the success of his arms. The Arians took this occasion to per-
suade him to persecute the orthodox Christians, as they assured him
ihat they were friends to the people of Rome.
After the decease of Huneric, his successor recalled him, and the
rest of the orthodox clergy ; the Arians, taking the alarm, persuaded
him to banish them again, which he complied with, Avhen Eugenius
exiled to Languedoc in France, died there of the hardships he under-
went, on the sixth of September, A. D. 305.
BOOK III.
HISTORY OF THE PERSECUTIONS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES, BETWEEN
THE FIFTH AND THE TENTH CENTURIES.
SECTION I.
FEUSECUTIONS FROM THE FIFTH TO THE SEVENTH CENTURY.
Proterius was made a priest by Cyril, bishop of Alexandria, wh*
was well acquainted with his virtues, before he appointed him to
preach. On the death of Cyril, the see of Alexandria was filled by
Dioscorus, an inveterate enemy to the memory and family of his pre-
decessor. Being condemned by the council of Chalcedon for having
embraced the errors of Eutyches, he Avas deposed, and Proterius cho-
sen to fill the vacant see, Avho was approved of by the emperor. This
occasioned a dangerous insurrection, for the city of Alexandria was
divided into two factions ; the one to espouse the cause of the old,
and the other of the new prelate. In one of the commotions, the Eu-
tychians determined to wreak their vengeance on Proterius, who fled
to the church for sanctuary : but on Good Friday, A. D. 457, a large
body of them rushed into the Church, and barbarously murdered the
prelate ; after which they dragged the body through the streets, in-
sulted it, cut it to pieces, burnt it, and scattered the ashes in the air.
Hermenigildus, a Gothic prince, was the eldest son of Leovigildus,
a king of the Goths, in Spain. This prince, who was originally an
Arian, became a convert to the orthodox faith, by means of his wife
Ingonda. When the king heard that his son had changed his religious
sentiments, he stripped him of the command at Seville, where he was
governor, and threatened to put him to death, unless he renounced the
faith he had newly embraced. The prince, in order to prevent the
execution of his father's menaces, began to put himself into a posture
of defence ; and many of the orthodox persuasion in Spain declared
for him. The king, exasperated at this act of rebellion, began to
PERSECUTIONS IN THE EIGHTH CENTURY. 7/
punish all the orthodox Christians who could be seized by his troops ;
and thus a very severe persecution commenced : he likewise marched
against his son at the head of a very powerful army. The prince
took refuge at Seville, from which he fled, and was at length beseiged
and taken at Asieta. Loaded with chains, he was sent to Seville, and
at the feast of Easter refusing to receive the Eucharist from an Arian
bishop, the enraged king ordered his guards to cut the prince to
pieces, which they punctually performed, April 13, A. D. 586.
Martin, bishop of Rome, was born at Todi, in Italy. He was na-
turally inclined to virtue,'and his parents bestowed on him an admirable
education. He opposed the heretics called Monothothelites, who
were patronized by the Emperor Heraclius. Martin was condemned
at Constantinople, where he was exposed in the most public places to
the ridicule of the people, divested of all episcopal marks of distinc-
tion, and treated with the greatest scorn and severity. After lying
some months in prison, Martin was sent to an island at some distance,
and there cut to pieces, A. D. 655.
John, bishop of Bergamo, in Lombardy, was a learned man, and a
good Christian. He did his utmost endeavours to clear the church
from the errors ofArianism, and joining in this holy work with .John,
bishop of Milan, he was very successful against the heretics, on which
account he was assassinated on July 11, A. D. 683.
Killien was born in Ireland, and received from his parents a pious
and Christian education. He obtained the Roman pontiff"'s license to
preach to the pagans in Franconia, in Germany. At Wurtzburg he
converted Gozbert, the governor, whose example was followed by
the greater part of the people in two years after. Persuading Goz-
bert that his marriage with his brother's widow was sinful, the latter
had him beheaded, A. D. 689.
SECTION II.
PERSECrTIOXS FROM THE EIGHTH TO THE TENTH CENTURY.
Boniface, archbishop of Mentz, and father of the German cliurch,
was an Englishman, and is, in ecclesiastical history, looked upon as
one of the brightest ornaments of this nation. Originally his name
was Winfrid, or Winfrith, and he was born at Kirton, in Devonshire,
then part of the West-Saxon kingdom. When he was only about six
years of age, he began to discover a propensity to reflection, and
seemed solicitous to gain information on religious subjects. Wolfrad,
the abbot, finding that he possessed a bright genius, as well as a
strong inclination to study, had him removed to Nutscelle, a seminary
of learning in the diocess of Winchester, where he would have a
much greater opportunity of attaining improvement than at Exeter.
After due study, the abbot, seeing him qualified for the priesthood,
obliged him to receive that holy order when he was about thirty years
old. From which time he began to preach, and labour for the salva-
tion of his fellow-creatures ; he was released to attend a synod of
bishops in the kingdom of West-Saxons. Heafterward, in719, went
mQ BOOK OP MARTYRS.
to Rome, where Gregory II. who then sat in Peter's chair, received
him with great friendship, and finding him full of all the virtues that
compose the character of an apostolical missionary, dismissed him
■with a commission at large to preach the gospel to the pagans where-
ever he found them. Passing through Lombardy and Bavaria, he
came to Thuringia, which country had before received the light of
the gospel ; he next visited Utrecht, and then proceeded to Saxony,
where he converted some thousands to Christianity.
Pope Gregory III. succeeded to the papal chair in 731, upon whose
accession Boniface sent proper persons to Rome to acquaint him with
the success of his labours. The pope not only answered the mes-
sage by assuring him of the communion and friendship of the see of
Rome, but as a mark of his respect for our missionary, sent him the
pallium, granted him the title of archbishop, or metropolitan of all
Germany, and empowered him to erect new bishoprics.
Bavaria had at this time only one bishop ; he therefore pursuant
to his commission from Rome, erected three new bishoprics, one at
Saltzbourg, a second at Freisingent, and a third atRatisbon, and thus
all Bavaria was divided into four dioceses.
Gregory III. was succeeded in the popedom by Zachary, A. D. 741,
and the latter confirmed Boniface in his power ; and approved of all
he had done in Germany, making him at the same time archbishop of
Mentz, and metropolitan over thirteen bishoprics.
During the ministry of this meek prelate, Pepin was declared king
of France. It was that prince's ambition to be crowned by the most
holy prelate he could find, and Boniface Avas pitched on to perform
that ceremony, which he did at Soissons in 752. The next year his
great age and many infirmities lay so heavily on him, that, with the
consent of the new king, the bishops, &c. of his diocess, he consecra-
ted Lullus, his countryman, and /aithful disciple, and placed him in
the see of Mentz. When he had thus eased himself of his charge, he
recommended the church of Mentz to the care of the new bishop in
verv strong terms, desired he would finish the church at Fuld, and
see'him buried in it, for his end was near. Having left these orders,
he took boat to the Rhine, and went to Friesland, where he converted
and baptized several thousands of the barbarous natives, demolished the
temples, and raised churches on the ruins of those superstitious struc-
tures. A day being appointed for confirming a great number of new
converts, he ordered them to assemble in a new open plain, near the
river Bourde. Thither he repaired the day before ; and, pitching a
tent, determined to remain on the spot all night, in order to be ready
early in the morning.
Some pagans, who Avere his inveterate enemies, having intelligence
of this, poured doAvn upon him and the companions of his mission in
the night, and killed him and fifty-two of his companions and at-
tendants on June 5, A. D. 755. Thus fell the great father of the
Germanic church, the honour of England, and the glory of the age
in which he lived.
Forty-two persons of Armonian, in Upper Phrygia, were martyred
in the year 845, by the Saracens, the circumstances of which trans-
action are as follows :
In the reign of Theophilus, the Saracens ravaged many parts of the
eastern empire, gained several considerable advantages over the
ALPHAGE. 79
Christians, took the city of Armonian, and numbers suflered mar-
tyrdom.
Flora and Mary, two ladies of distinction, suffered martyrdom at
the same time.
Perfectus was born at Corduba, in Spain, and brought up in the
Christian faith. Having a quick genius, he made himself master of
all the useful and polite literature of that age ; and at the same time
was not more celebrated for his abilities than admired for his piety.
At length he took priest's orders, and performed the duties of his of-
fice with great assiduity and punctuality. Publicly declaring Maho-
met an impostor, he was sentenced to be beheaded, and was accord-
ingly executed, A. D. 850 ; after which his body was honourably in-
terred by the Christians.
Adalbert, bishop of Prague, a Bohemian by birth, after being in-
volved in many troubles, began to direct his thoughts to the conver-
sion of the infidels, to which end he repaired to Dantzic, Avhere he
converted and baptized many, which so enraged the pagan priests,
that they fell upon him, and despatched him with darts, on the 23d
of April, A. D. 997.
BOOK IV.
PERSECUTIONS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES, FROM THE ELEVENTH TO THE
SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
SECTION I.
PERSECUTIONS IN THE ELEVENTH CENTURY.
Account of Archbishop Alphage.
Alphage, archbishop of Canterbury, came from a considerable
family in Gloucestei*shire, and received an education suitable to his
birth. His parents were Christians, and Alphage inherited all their
virtues. He was prudent, humble, pious, and chaste ; and made ra-
pid progress both in polite literature and theological learning. In
order to be more at leisure to contemplate the beauties of divine his-
tory he determined to renounce his fortune, quit his home, and be-
come a recluse. He accordingly retired to a monastery of Benedic-
tines, at Beerhurst, in Gloucestershire, and soon after took the habit.
Here he lived with the utmost temperance, and spent the greatest
part of his time in prayer. But not thinking the austerities he under-
went in this monastery sufficiently severe, he retired to a lonely cell,
near Bath, and lived in a manner still more rigid ; but some devout
persons finding out his retreat, his austere life soon became the sub-
ject of conversation in the neighbouring villages, whence many flocked
30 BOOK OP MARTYRS.
to him, and begged to be taken under his pastoral care. Consenting
to their importunities, he raised a monastery near his cell, by contri-
butions of several well-disposed persons ; formed his new pupils into
a community, and placed a prior over them. Having prescribed
rules for their regulation, he again retired to his cell, fervently wish-
ing to pass the remainder of his days in religious security ; Avhen the
following affair again drew him from his retreat.
The see of Winchester being vacant by the death of Ethelwold, a
dispute arose respecting a successor to that bishopric. The clergy
had been driven out of the cathedral for their scandalous lives, but
were admitted again by king Ethelred, upon certain terms- of refor-
mation. The monks, who had been introduced upon their expulsion,
looked upon themselves as the chapter of that church ; and hence
arose a violent contest between them and the clergy who had been
re-admitted, about the election of a bishop ; while both parties were
vigorously determined upon supporting their own man. This dispute
at last ran so high, that Dunstan, archbishop of Canterbury, as primate
of all England, was obliged to interpose, and he consecrated Alphage
to the vacant bishopric, to the general satisfaction of all concerned in
the election.
The behaviour of Alphage was a proof of his being equal to the
dignity of his vocation. Piety flourished in his diocese ; unity was
established among his clergy and people ; and the conduct of the
church of Winchester made the bishop the admiration of the whole
kingdom. Dunstan had an extraordinary veneration for Alphage,
and when at the point of death, made it his ardent request to God,
that he might succeed him in the see of Canterbury ; which accord-
ingly happened, though not till about eighteen years after Dunstan's
death. In the course of that period, the metropolitan church was go-
verned by three successive prelates ; the last of Avhom was Alfric ;
upon whose decease, in 1006, Alphage was raised to the see of Can-
terbury. The people belonging to the diocese of Winchester, were
too sensible of the loss they sustained by his translation, not to re-
gret his removal to Canterbury.
Soon after he Avas made archbishop, he went to Rome, and recei-
ved the pall from Pope John XVIII.
When Alphage had governed the see of Canterbury about four
years with great reputation, the Danes made an incursion into Eng-
land. Ethelred, who then reigned, was a prince of a very weak
mind, and pusillanimous disposition. Being afraid to face the enemy
himself, and too irresolute to furnish others with the means of acting,
he suftered his country to be ravaged with impunity, and the greatest
depredations to be committed by the enemy.
Upon this occasion, the Archbishop Alphage acted with great reso-
lution and humanity ; he went boldly to the Danes, purchased the
freedom of several whom they had made captives ; found means to
send food to others, whom he had not money enough to redeem, and
even made converts of some of the Danes ; but the latter circumstance
made the Danes, who still continued pagans, greater enemies to him
than they would otherwise have been, and they were determined to
be revenged on him. Edric, an English malcontent and traitor, gave
the Danes every encouragement, and assisted them in laying siege to
Canterbury. When the design of attacking that city was known, manv
Procession of Criminals condemned by the Inquisition
on the Auto defe. Page 106.
Basil crually tortured to death by order of Julian the
Ajjostate, A. D. 362. Page 74.
Dreadful Sufferings of Primitive Martyrs. Page 74.
STANISr,AUS. 81
of the principal people made a precipitous flight from it, and would
have persuaded Alphage to follow their example ; but he would not
listen to such a proposal ; assured them he could not think of abandon-
mg his flock at a time when his presence was more necessary thar.
ever, and was resolved to hazard his life in their defence. While he
was employed in assisting his people, Canterbury was taken by storm ;
the enemy poured into the town, and destroyed all that came in their
way. The monks endeavoured to detain the archbishop in the church,
where they hoped he might be safe. But his concern for his flock
made him break from them, and run into the midst of the danger. On
this occasion he addressed the enemy, begging the people might be
saved, and that he alone might be their victim. The barbarians sei-
zed him, tied his hands, insulted and abused him, and obliged him to
remain on the spot till his church was burnt, and the monks massa-
cred. They then decimated all the inhabitants, both ecclesiastics and
laymen, leaving only every tenth person alive ; so that they put 7236
persons to death, and left only four monks and 800 laymen alive ; af-
ter which they confined the archbishop in a dungeon, where they kept
him for several months. During his confinement, they proposed to
him to purchase his liberty with the sum of 3000Z. and to persuade the
king to procure their departure out of the kingdom with a farther sum
of 10,000/. Alphage's circumstances not allowing him to satisfy the
exorbitant demand, they bound him and put him to severe torments,
t(. oblige him to discover the treasures of his church. But he remain-
ing inflexible ; they remanded him to prison again, confined him six
days longer, and then taking him with them to Greenwich, brought
him to trial. Here he exhorted them to forsake their idolatry, and
embrace Christianity. This so enraged them, that the soldiers drag-
ged him out of the camp, and beat him unmercifully. Alphage bore
this treatment patiently, and even prayed for his persecutors. One of
the soldiers, who had been converted and baptized by him, was great-
ly afilicted that his pains should be so lingering, as he knew his death
was determined on : he, therefore, in a kind of barbarous compassion,
cut oft' his head, and thus put the finishing stroke to his martyrdom.
This happened on April 19, A. D. 1012, on the very spot where the
church of Greenwich, which is dedicated to him, now stands. After
his death, his body was thrown into the Thames, but being found the
next day, it was buried in the cathedral of St. Paul's, by the bishops of
London and Lincoln : from whence it was, in the year 1023, removed
to Canterbury, by ^Ethelnoth, archbishop of that province.
Stanislaus.
Stanislaus, bishop of Cracow, was of an illustrious family. The
piety of his parents was equal to their opulence ; and they rendered
their wealth subservient to all the purposes of benevolence. Stanis-
laus was their only child ; he possessed a penetrating genius, reten-
tive memory, and solid understanding ; hence study became his
amusement. His disposition was not inferior to his abilities: and he
voluntarily gave himself, in the dawn of youth, to such austerities as
might have acquired reputation for a hermit. In process of time, he
was sent to a seminary of learning in Poland, and afterwards to the
university of Paris ; here he remained several years, and then re-
turned to his own country, where, on the demise of his parents, he b«y
82 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
came possessed of a large fortune, of wliich he devoted the greater
part to charitable uses. His views were now solely directed to the
ministry ; but he remained for some time undetermined whether he
should eriibrace a monastic life, or engage among the secular clergy.
He was at length persuaded to the latter, by Lambert Zula, bishop of
Cracow, who gave him holy orders, and made him a canon of his ca-
thedral. In this capacity he lived in a most exemplary manner, and
performed his duties with unremitting assiduity. Lambert was charm-
ed with the many virtues which so particularly distinguished Stanis-
laus, and would fain have resigned his bishopric to him, alleging as a
reason, his great age, but Stanislaus absolutely refused to accept of
the see, for the contrary reason, viz. his want of years ; as being
then only 36 years old, he deemed that too early a time of life for a
man to undertake the important care of a diocese. Lambert, how-
ever, made him his substitute upon various occasions, and dying on
November 25, 1071, all concerned in the choice of a successor de-
clared for Stanislaus ; but he declined the acceptance for the same
reason as before. At length the king, clergy, and nobility, unani-
mously joined in writing to Pope Alexander II. who, at their entrea-
ty, sent an express order that Stanislaus should accept the bishopric.
He then obeyed, and exerted himself to the utmost in improving his
flock. He was equally careful with respect both to clergy and laity,
kept a list of all the poor in his diocese, and by feeding the hungry,
rJothing the naked, and administering remedies to the sick, he pro-
ved himself not only the godly pastor, but the physician and benefac-
tor of the people.
Bolislaus the second, king of Poland, had many good qualities, but
giving way too much to his passions, he committed many enormities,
till from being deemed a good king, he at last acquired the appella-
tion of CRtTEL. The nobility were shocked at his conduct, and the
clergy saAv his proceedings with grief; but Stanislaus alone had the
courage to tell him of his faults. The king was greatly exasperated
at this freedom ; but awed by the virtues of the bishop, he dis-sembled
his resentment, and appearing to be convinced of his errors, promised
to reform his conduct. He, soon after, attempting the chastity of a
married lady, who rejected his oflers with disdain, violated her by
force. This iniquitous act greatly incensed the nobility ; they as-
sembled, and, calling the clergy to their assistance, entreated Peter,
archbishop of Gresne, to remonstrate to the king on the impropriety
of his conduct. The archbishop, however, declined the task ; for
though virtuous, he was timid. Several other prelates imitated his
example, and Stanislaus was, as before, the only one who had cour-
age and zeal sufficient to perform what he looked upon as an indispen-
sable duty. He, therefore, put himself at the head of a number of
ecclesiastics, noblemen, and gentlemen, and solemnly addressed the
king on the heinousness of his crime. Bolislaus, violently irritated,
threatened the prelate with his severest vengeance; but Stanislaus,
unintimidated by his menaces, visited him twice more, and remon-
strated with him in a similar manner, which increased his wrath.
The nobility and clergy, finding that the admonitions of the bishop
had not the desired effect upon the king, thought proper to interpose.
The nobility entreated the bishop to refrain from any further exaspe-
rating a monarch of so ferocious a temper ; and the clergy endea
PERSECUTIONS OF THE WALDENSES. 83
vourcd to persuade the king not to be offended with Stanislaus for his
charitable remonstrances. But the haughty sovereign determined at
any rate to get rid of a prelate, who, in his opinion, was too censo-
rious ; and hearing that the bishop was alone, in the chapel of St.
Michael, at a small distance from the town, he despatched some sol-
diers to murder him. The men readily undertook the task ; but
when they came into the presence of Stanislaus, the venerable aspect
of the prelate struck them with such awe, that they could not per-
form what they had promised. On their return, the king, finding they
had not obeyed his orders, snatched a dagger from one of them, and
ran furiously to the chapel, where, finding Stanislaus at the altar, he
plunged the weapon into his lieart. This took place on the 8th of
May, A. D. 1079.
SECTION II.
PERSECUTIONS OF THE WALDENSES IN FRANCE.
Before this time the church of Christ was tainted with many of the
errors of popery, and superstition began to predominate ; but a few,
who perceived the pernicious tendency of such errors, determined to
show the light of the gospel in its real purity, and to disperse those
clouds which artful priests had raised about it, in order to delude the
people. The principal of these worthies was Berengarius, who, about
the year 1000, boldly preached gospel truths according to their pri-
mitive purity. Many, from conviction, went over to his doctrine,
and were, on that account, called Berengarians. Berengarius was
succeeded by Peter Bruis, who preached at Toulouse, under the pro-
tection of an earl, named Hildephonsus ; and the whole tenets of the
reformers, with the reasons of their separation from the church of
Rome, were published in a book written by Bruis under the title of
Antichrist.
In the year 1140, the number of the reformed was very great, and
the probability of their increasing alarmed the pope, who wrote to
several princes to banish them from their dominions, and employed
many learned men to write against them.
In 1147, Henry of Toulouse, being deemed their most eminent
preacher, they were called Henricians ; and as they would not admit
of any proofs relative to religion but what could be deduced from the
scriptures themselves, the popish party gave them the name of Apos-
tolics. Peter Waldo, or Valdo, a native of Lyons, at this time be-
came a strenuous opposer of popery ; and from him the reformed re-
ceived the appellation of Waldoys, or Waldenses. Waldo was a man
eminent for his learning and benevolence; and his doctrines were
adopted by multitudes. The bishop of Lyons taking umbrage at the
freedom with which he treated the pope and the Romish clergy, sent
to admonish him to refrain in future from such discourses ; but Wal-
do answered, " That he could not be silent in a cause of such im-
portance as the salvation of men's souls ; wherein he must obey Go(1
rather than man."
34 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Accusations of Peter Waldo against Popery.
His principal accusations against the Roman Catholics were, that
they affirm the church of Rome to be the only infallible church of
Christ upon earth ; and that the pope is its head, and the vicar of
Christ ; that they hold the absurd doctrine of transubstantiation, in-
sisting that the bread and wine given in the sacrament is the very
identical body and blood of Christ which was nailed to the cross ; that
they believe there is a place called purgatory, where the souls of
persons, after this life, are purged from the sins of mortality, and that
the pains and penalties here inflicted may be abated according to the
masses said by and the money paid to the priests ; that they teach,
the communion of one kind, or the receiving the wafer only, is suffi-
cient for the lay people, though the clergy must be indulged with
both bread and Avine ; that they pray to the Virgin Mary and saints,
though their prayers ought to be immediately to God ; that they pray
for souls departed, though God decides their fate immediately on the
decease of the person ; that they will not perform the service of the
church in a language understood by the people in general ; that they
place their devotion in the number of prayers, and not in the intent
of the heart ; that they forbid marriage to the clergy, though God
allowed it ; and that they use many things in baptism, though Christ
used only water. When Pope Alexander the Third was informed of
these transactions, he excommunicated Waldo and his adherents, and
commanded the bishop of Lyons to exterminate them : thus began
the papal persecutions against the Waldensea
Tenets of the Waldenses.
1. That holy oil is not to be mingled in baptism.
2. That prayers used over things inanimate are superstitious.
3. Flesh may be eaten in Lent ; the clergy may marry ; and auri-
cular confession is unnecessary.
4. Confirmation is no sacrament : we are not bound to pay obe-
dience to the pope ; ministers should live upon tithes ; no dignity
sets one clergyman above another, for their superiority can only be
drawn from real worth.
5. Images in churches are absurd ; image worship is idolatry ; the
pope's indulgences ridiculous ; and the miracles pretended to be done
by the church of Rome are false.
6. Fornication and public stews ought not to be allowed ; purga-
tory is a fiction -, and deceased persons, called saints, ought not to be
prayed to.
7. Extreme unction is not a sacrament ; and masses, indulgences,
and prayers, are of no service to the dead.
8. The Lord's prayer ought to be the rule of all other prayers.
Waldo remained three years undiscovered in Lyons, though the
utmost diligence was used to apprehend him ; but at length he found
an opportunity of escaping from tlie place of his concealment to the
mountains of Dauphiny. He soon after found means to propagate
his doctrines in Dauphiny and Picardy, which so exasperated Philip,
king of France, that he put the latter province, which contained most
of the sectaries, under military execution ; d(^stroying above 300 gen
tlemen's scats, erasing some walled towns, burning many of the re
formed, and driving others into Flanders and Germany.
PERSECUTIONS OP THE WALDENSES. 85
Notwithstanding these persecutions, the reformed religion seemed
to tlourish ; and the Waldenses, in various parts, became more nu-
merous than ever. At length the pope accused them of heresy, and the
monks of immorality. These slanders they, however, refuted ; but the
pope, incensed at their increase, used all means for their extirpation;
such as excommunications, anathemas, canons, constitutions, decrees,
&c. by which they were rendered incapable of holding places of trust,
honour, or profit ; their lands were seized, their goods confiscated, and
they were not permitted to be buried in consecrated ground. Some of
the Waldenses having taken refuge in Spain, Aldephonsus, king of Ar-
ragon, at the instigation of the pope, publised an edict, strictly order-
ing all Roman Catholics to persecute them wherever they could be
found ; and decreeing that all who gave them the least assistance
should be deemed traitors.
The year after this edict, Aldephonsus was severely punished by
the hand of Providence ; for his son was defeated in a great battle,
and 50,000 of his men slain, by which a considerable portion of his
kingdom fell into the hand of the Moors.
The reformed ministers continued to preach boldly against the Ro-
mish church ; and Peter Waldo, in particular, wherever he went, as-
eerted, that the pope was antichrist, that mass was an abomination,
that the host was an idol, and that purgatory was a fable.
Origin of the Inquisition.
These proceedings of Waldo, and his reformed companions, occa-
sioned the origin of inquisitors ; for Pope Innocent III. authorized cer-
tain monks inquisitors, to find and deliver over the reformed to the
secular power. The monks, upon the least surmise or information,
gave up the reformed to the magistrate, who delivered them to the
executioner ; for the process was short, as accusation supplied the
place of evidence, and a fair trial was never granted to the accused.
Cruelties of the Pope, and artifices of Dominic.
When the pope found that these cruel means had not the desired
effect, he determined to try others of a milder nature ; he therefore
sent several learned monks to preach amongst the Waldenses, and
induce them to change their opinions. Among these monks was one
Dominic, who appeared extremely zealous in the cause of popery. He
instituted an order, which, from him, was called the order of Domini-
can friars ; and the members of this order have ever since been the
principal inquisitors in every country into which that horrible tribunal
has been introduced. Their power was unlimited ; they proceeded
against whom they pleased, without any consideration of age, sex, or
rank. However infamous the accusers, the accusation was deemed
valid ; and even anonymous informations were thought sufficient evi-
dence. The dearest friends or kindred could not, without danger, serve
anyone who was imprisoned on account of religion; to convey to those
who were confined a little straw, or give them a cup of water, was
called favouring the heretics ; no lawyer dared to plead even for his
own brother or notary register any thing in favour of the reformed.
The malice of the papists, indeed, went beyond the grave, and the
bones of many Waldenses, who had been long dead, were dug up and
burnt. If a man on his death-bed were accused of being a follower
of Waldo, his estates were confiscated, and the heir defrauded of his
g6 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
inheritance ; and some were even obliged to make pilgrimages to tho
Hoiy Land, while the Dominicans took possession of their houses
and property, which they refused to surrender to the owners upon
iheir return.
Prisons filled with Christians.
A knight named Enraudus, being accused of embracing the opinions
of Waldo, was burnt at Paris A. D. 1201. About 1228, such numbers
of the reformed were apprehended, that the archbishops of Aix, Aries,
and Narbonne, took compassion on them, and thus expressed them-
selves to the inquisitors : " We hear that you have appprehended such
a number of Waldenses, that it is not only impossible to defray the
charge of their food and confinement, but to provide lime and stone
to build prisons for them."
Avarice and Injustice of Boralli.
In 1380, a monk inquisitor, named Francis Boralli, had a commis-
sion granted him by Pope Clement VII. to search for, and punish the
Waldenses in Aix, Ambrune, Geneva, Savoy, Orange, Aries, "Vienne,
Avignon, <fcc. He went to Ambrune, and summoned all the inhabi-
tants to appear before him ; when those who were found to be of the
reformed rejigion, were delivered over to the secular power, and burnt;
and those who did not appear, were excommunicated for contumacy,
and had their eflects confiscated. In the distribution of the effects,
the clergy had two thirds of the property of all who were condemned,
and the secular power one third. All the reformed inhabitants of the
other places, named in the commission of this ecclesiastic, were equal
sufferers.
Persecutions in Dauphiny.
In 1400, the Waldenses who resided in the valley of Pragela, were,
at the instigation of some priests, suddenly attacked by a body of troops,
who plundered their houses, murdered many, and drove others into
the Alps, where great numbers were frozen to death, it being in the
depth of winter. In 1460, a persecution was carried on in Dauphiny
against the Waldenses, by the archbishop of Ambrune, who employed
a monk, named John Vayleti, who proceeded with such violence, that
not only the Waldenses, but even many papists, were suflerers : for if
any of them expressed compassion or pity for the inoffensive people,
they were accused of favouring the Waldenses, and punished. At length
Vayleti's proceedings became so intolerable, that a great number of
the papists themselves addressed a petition against him to Louis XI.
king of France, who granted the request of the petitioners, and sent an
order to the governor of Dauphiny to stop the persecution. Vayleti,
however, by order of the archbishop, still continued it; for, taking ad-
vantage of the last clause of the edict, he pretended that he did nothing
contrary to the king's precept, who had ordered punishment to such as
affirmed any thing against the holy catholic faith. This persecution
at length concluded with the death of the archbishop, Avhich hap
pened in 1487.
Attempts of the Pope to exterminate the Waldenses.
Pope Innocent VIII. in 1488, determined to persecute the Walden-
ses. To this end he sent Albert de Capitaneis, archdeacon of Cremo-
"a, to France ; who, on arriving in Dauphiny, craved the assistance of
PERSECUTIONS OF THE WALDENSES. 87
the king's lieutenant to exterminate the Waldenses from the valley of
Loyse : the lieutenant readily granted his assistance, and marched a
body of troops to the place ; but when they arrived at the valley, they
found that it had been deserted by the inhabitants, who had retired to
the mountains, and hid themselves in caverns, &c. The archdeacon
and lieutenant immediately followed them with the troops, and appre-
hending many, they cast them headlong from the precipices, by which
they were dashed to pieces. Several, however, retired to the inner-
most parts of the caverns, and knowing the intricacies, were able to
conceal themselves. The archdeacon and lieutenant, not being able
to come at thern, ordered the mouths of the caves to be filled with fag-
gots, which being lighted, those within were snflbcated. On search-
ing the caves, 400 infants were found smothered, either in their cra-
dles or in their mother's arms ; and, upon the whole, about 3000 men,
women, and children, were destroyed in this persecution.
After this tragical work, the lieutenant and archdeacon proceeded
Avith the troops to Pragela and Frassanier, in order to persecute the
Waldenses in those parts. But these having heard of the fate of their
brethren in the valley of Loyse, thought proper to arm themselves;
and by fortifying the different passes, and bravely disputing the pas-
sages through them, they so harrassed the troops, that the lieutenant
was compelled to retire without effecting his purpose.
7%e King of France favours the Waldenses.
In 1494, Anthony Fabri and Christopher de Salence, havinga com-
mission to persecute the Waldenses of Dauphiny, put some to death,
sequestered the estates of others, and confiscated the goods of many;
but Louis XIL coming to the crown in 1498, the Waldenses petition-
ed him for a restitution of their property. The king determined to
have the afiair impartially canvassed, and sent a commissioner of his
own, together with a commissary from the Pope, to make proper in-
quiries. The witnesses against the Waldenses having been exami-
ned, the innocence of these poor people evidently appeared, and the
king's commissioner declared, "That he only desired to be as good a
Christian as the worst of them." When this favourable report Avas made
to the king, he immediately gave orders that the Waldenses should
have their property restored to them. The archbishop of Ambrune,
having the greatest quantity of these poor people's goods, it was ge^
nerally imagined that he would set a laudable example to others, b}-
being the first to restore them. The archbishop, however, declared
that he would not restore any of the property, for it was incorporated
with, and become part of his archbishopric. He, however, with an af-
fectation of candour, offei'ed to relinquish several vineyards, of which
he had dispossessed the Waldenses, provided the lords of Dauphiny
would restore all they had taken from those poor people; but this the
lords absolutely refused, being as desirous of keeping their plunder as
the archbishop himself;
The Waldenses finding that they were not likely to recover any ot
their property, again appealed to the king; and the monarch having
attended to their complaints, wrote to the archbishop ; but that artful
and avaricious prelate replied, " That at the commencement of the
persecution, the Waldenses had been excommunicated by the Pope,
in consequence of which their goods were distrained ; therefore, till
88 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
the .sentence of excommunication was taken off, which had occasioned
them to be seized, they could not be restored with propriety." This
plea was allowed to be reasonable ; and the application was ineffectu-
ally made to the Pope to remove the sentence of excommunication ;
for the archbishop, supposing this would be the case, had used all his
interest at Rome to prevent the application from succeeding.
Progress of the Waldenses.
At length this sect, having spread from Dauphiny into several other
provinces, became very numerous in Provence. At their first arrival,
Provence was almost a desert, but by their great industry, it soon
abounded with corn, wine, oil, fruit, &c. The pope, by being often
near them, at his scat at Avignon, heard occasionally many things
concerning their differing from the church of Rome, which greatly
exasperated him, and he determined to persecute them. Proceeding
to some extremities, under the sanction of his ecclesiastical authority
only, without consulting the king of France, the latter became alarm-
ed, and sent his master of requests and his confessor to examine into
the affair. On their return they reported that the Waldenses were
not such dangerous or bad people as they had been represented ;
that they lived with perfect honesty, were friendly to all, caused their
children to be baptised, had them taught the Lord's prayer, creed,
and ten commandments ; expounded the sci-iptures with purity, kept
the Lord's day sacred, feared God, honoured the king, and wished
well to the state. " Then," said the king, " they are much better
Christians than myself or my catholic subjects, and therefore they
shall not be persecuted." He was as good as his word, and sent or-
ders to stop the persecution.
SECTION in.
PERSECUTIONS OF THE ALEIGENSES.
The Albigenses were people of the reformed religion, who inha-
bited the country of Albi. They were condemned on account of reli-
gion, in the council of the Lateran, by order of Pope Alexander HI, ;
but they increased so prodigiously, that many cities were inhabited by
persons only of their persuasion, and several eminent noblemen em-
braced their doctrines. Among the latter Avere Raymond, earl of
Toulouse, Raymond, earl of Foix, the earl of Bezieres, &C. The
Pope, at length, pretended that he wished to draw them to the Romish
faith by sound argument and clear reasoning, and for this end order-
ed a general disputation ; in which, however, the popish doctors were
entirely overcome by the arguments of Arnold, a reformed clergy-
man, whose reasonings were so strong, that they were compelled to
confess tJieir force.
Persecution of the earl of Toulouse.
A friar, named Peter, having been murdered in the dominions of
the earl of Toulouse, the Pope made the murder a pretence to perse-
cute that nobleman and his subjects. He sent persons throughout all
PERSECUTIONS OF THE ALBIGENSE3. 89
Europe, in order to raise forces to act coercively against the Albigeu-
ses, and promised paradise to all wlio would assist in this war, (which
he termed holy,) and bear arms for forty days. The same indulgences
were held out to all who entered for this purpose, as to such as enga-
ged in crusades to the Holy Land. The pope likewise sent orders to
all archbisliops, bishops, &c. to excommunicate the eaid of Toulouse
every Sabbath and festival ; at the same time absolving all his sub-
jects from their oaths of allegiance to him, and commanding them to
pursue his person, possess his lands, destroy his property, and murder
such of his subjects as continued faithful to him. The earl of Tou-
louse, hearing of these mighty preparations against him, wrote to the
pope in a very candid manner, desiring not to be condemned unheard,
and assuring him that he had not the least hand in Peter's death : for
that friar was killed by a gentleman, who, immediately after the mur-
der, fled out of his territories. But the pope, being determined on his
destruction, was resolved not to hear his defence ; and a formidable
army, with several noblemen and prelates at the head of it, began its
march against the Albigenses. The earl had only the alternative to
oppose force by force, or submit : and as he despaired of success in
attempting the former, he determined on the latter. The pope's le-
gate being at Valence, the earl repaired thither, and said, " He was
surprised that such a number of armed men should be sent against
him, before the least proof of his guilt had been deduced. He there-
fore came voluntarily to surrender himself, armed only with the testi-
mony of a good conscience, and hoped that the troops would be pre-
vented from plundering his innocent subjects, as he thought himself
a sufficient pledge for any vengeance they chose to take on account of
the death of the friar." The legate replied, that he was very glad
the earl had voluntarily surrendered : but, with respect to the propo-
sal, he could not pretend to countermand the orders to the troops, un-
less he would consent to deliver up seven of his best fortified castles
as securities for his future behaviour. At this demand the earl per-
ceived his error in submitting, but it was too late ; he knew himself
to be a prisoner, and therefore sent an order for the delivery of the
castles. The pope's legate had no sooner gan-isoned these places,
than he ordered the respective govei-nors to appear before him.
When they came, he said, " That the earl of Toidouse having de-
livered up his castles to the pope, they must consider that they were
now the pope's subjects, and not the earl's ; and that they must there-
fore act conformably to their new allegiance."' The governors were
greatly astonished to see their lord thus in chains, and themselves
compelled to act in a manner so contrary to their inclinations and con-
sciences. But the subsequent treatment of the earl afflicted them
still more ; for he was stripped nearly naked, led nine times round
the grave of friar Peter, and severely scourged before all the people.
Not content with this, the legate obliged him to swear that he would
be obedient to the pope during the remainder of his life, conform to
the church of Rome, and make irreconcilable war against the Albi-
genses; and even ordered him, by the oaths he had newly taken, to
join the troops, and inspect the siege of Bezieres. But thinking this
too hard an injunction, he took an opportunity privately to quit the
army, and determined to go to the pope and relate the ill usage he had
"■eceived.
90 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Siege of Beziercs.
The army, however, proceeded lo besiege Bezieres ; and the earl
of Bezieres, who was governor of that city, thinking it impossible to
defend the place, came out, and presenting himself before the legate,
implored mercy for the inhabitants ; intimating, that there were as
many Roman catholics as Albigenses in that city. The legate replied,
that all excuses were useless ; the place must be delivered up at dis-
cretion, or the most dreadful consequences would ensue.
The earl of Bezieres returning into the city, told the inhabitants he
could obtain no mercy, unless the Albigenses would abjure their reli-
gion, and conform to the Avorship of the church of Rome. The Roman
catholics pressed the Albigenses to comply Avith his request; but the
Albigenses nobly answered, that they would not forsake their religion
for the base price of their frail life : that God was able, if he pleased,
to defend them ; but if he would be glorified by the confession of their
faith, it would be a great honour to them to die for his sake. They
added, that they had rather displease the pope, who could but kill their
bodies, than God, who could cast both body and soul into hell. On
this the popish party, finding their importunities inefiectual, sent their
bishop to the legate, beseeching him not to include them in the chas-
tisement of the Albigenses ; and representing, that the best means to
win the latter over to the Roman catholic persuasion, was by gentle-
ness, and not by rigour. The legate, upon hearing this, flew into a
violent passion with the bishop, and declared that, " If all the city
did not acknowledge their fault, they should taste of one curse with-
out distinction of religion, sex, or age."
Horrid Cruelties on talcing- the Town.
The inhabitants refusing to yield upon such terms, a general assault
was made, and the place taken by storm, when every cruelty that bar-
barous superstition could devise was practised ; nothing was to be
heard, but the groans of men, who lay Aveltering in their blood, the
lamentations of mothers, who, after being violated by the soldiery,
had their children taken from them, and dashed to pieces before their
faces. The city being fired in various parts, new scenes of confusion
arose ; in several places the streets were streaming with blood.
Those who hid themselves in their dwellings, had only the dreadful
alternative to remain and perish in the flames, or rush out and fall by
the swords of the soldiers. The bloody legate, during these infernal
proceedings, enjoyed the carnage, and even cried out to the troops,
" Kill them, kill them all ; kill man, woman, and child ; kill Roman
Catholics as well as Albigenses, for when they are dead the Lord
knows how to pick out his own." Thus the beautiful city of Bezieres
was reduced to a heap of ruins ; and 60,000 persons were murdered.
Courage of the Earl of Beziercs.
The earl of Bezieres and a few others made their escape, and went
to Carcasson, which they endeavoured to put in the best posture of
defence. The legate, not wilHng to lose an opportunity of spilling
blood during the forty days which the troops were to serve, led them
immediately against "Carcasson. As soon as the place was invested,
a fuiiovs assault was given, but the besiegers were repulsed with great
slaughter ; and upon this occasion the earl of Bezieres gave the most
PERSECUTIONS OF THE ALBIGENSES. 91
distinguished proof of his courage, saying, to encourage the besieged,
" We had better die fighting than fall into the hands of such bigotted
and bloody enemies."
Two miles from the city of Carcas&on there was a small town of
the same name, which the Albigenses had likewise fortified. The
legale, being enraged at the repulse he had received from the city of
Carcasson, determined to wreak his vengeance upon the town : the
next morning he made a general assault ; and, though the place was
bravely defended, he took it by storm, put all within it to the sword,
and then burnt the town.
During these transactions the king of Arragon arrived at the camp,
and, after paying his obedience to the legate, told him, he understood
the earl of Bezieres, his kinsman, was in the city of Carcasson, and
that, if he would grant him permission, he would go thither and en-
deavour to make him sensible of the duty he owed to the pope and
church : the legate acquiescing, the king repaired to the earl, and
asked him from what motives he shut himself up in that city against
so great an army. The earl answered, it Avas to defend his life, goods,
and subjects ; that he knew the pope, under the pretence of religion,
resolved to destroy his uncle, the earl of Toulouse, and himself; that
he saw the cruelty which ihey had used at Bezieres, even against the
priests ; and at the town of Carcasson ; and that they must look for
no mercy from the legate, or his army ; he, therefore, rather chose
to die, defending himself and his subjects, than fall into the hands of
so inexorable an enemy as the legate ; that though he had in his city
some that were of another religion, yet they were such as had not
wronged any, were come to his succour in his greatest extremity,
and for their good service he was resolved not to abandon them ; that
his trust was in God, the defender of the oppressed ; and that he
would assist them against those ill advised men who forsook their
own homes, to burn, ravage, and murder, without reason, judgment,
or mercy.
Infamous Treachery of the Legate.
The king reported to the legate what the earl had said : the legate,
after considering for some time, replied, " For your sake, sir, 1 will
receive the earl of Bezieres to mercy, and with him twelve others shall
be safe, and be permitted to retire with their property ; but as for the
rest, I am determined to have them at my discretion." This answer
displeased the king ; and when the earl heard it, he absolutely refused
to comply with such terms. The legate then commanded another
assault, but his troops were again repulsed with great slaughter, and
the dead bodies occasioned a stench that was exceedingly offensive
both to the besieged and the besiegers. The legate, vexed and alarm-
ed at this second disappointment, determined to iact by stratagem.
He, therefore, sent a person, well skilled in dissimidation and artifice,
to the earl of Bezieres, with a seeming friendly message. The de-
sign was, by any means, to induce the earl to leave the city, in order
to have an interview with the legate ; and to this end the messenger
was to promise, or swear, whatever he thought proper ; for, said the
legate, " swear to what falsehoods you will in such a cause, I will give
you absolution."
This infamous plot succeeded : for the earl, believing the promises
made him of personal security, and crediting the solemn oaths thai
92 BOOR OF MARTYRS.
the perjured agent swore upon the occasion, left the city, and went
Avjth hiiri. The legate no sooner saw him, than he told him he was a
prisoner, and must remain so till Carcasson Avas surrendered, and the
inhabitants taught their duty to the pope. The earl, on hearing this,
cried out that he was betrayed, and exclaimed against the treachery ot
the legate, and the perjury of the person he had employed. But he
was ordered into close confinement, and the place summoned to sur
render immediately.
The people, on hearing the captivity of the earl, Avere thrown into
the utmost consternation, when one of the citizens informed the rest,
that he had been formerly told by some old men, that there was a very
capacious subterraneous passage, which led from thence to the castle
of Camaret, at three leagues distance. " If," continued he, " we can
find this passage, we may all escape before the legate can be ap-
prized of our flight." This information Avas joyfully received ; all
Avere employed to search for the passage ; and, at length, it Avas dis-
covered. Early in the evening the inhabitants began their flight,
taking Avith them their Avives, children, a few days' provisions, and
such property as AA-as most valuable and portable. They reached the
castle by the morning, and escaped to Arragon, Catalonia, and such
other places as they thought Avould secure them from the poAver of the
sanguinary legate.
Next morning the troops Avere astonished, not hearing any noise,
nor seeing any man stir in the city ; yet they approached the Avails
with much fear, lest it should be but a stratagem to endanger them ;
but finding no opposition, they mounted the Avails, crying out, that the
Albigenses Avere fled ; and thus Avas the city, Avith all the spoils, taken,
and the earl of Bezieres committed to prison in one of the strongest
tOAvers of the castle, Avhere he soon after died.
The legate noAV called all the prelates and great lords of his army
together, telling them, that though it Avas requisite there should be
always a legate in the army, yet it Avas likewise necessary that there
should be always a secular general, wise and valiant, to command in
all their affairs, &c. This charge Avas first offered to the Duke ot
Burgogne, then to the earl of Ennevers, and, thirdly, to the earl ot
St. Paul ; but they all refused it. At length it Avas offered to Simon,
earl of Montfort, Avho, after some excuses, accepted of it. Four thou-
sand men Avere left to garrison Carcasson, and the deceased earl ot
Bezieres Avas succeeded, in title and dignity, by Earl Simon, a bigoted
Roman Catholic, who threatened vengeance on the Albigenses, unless
they conformed to the Avorship of the church of Rome. But the king
of Arragon, Avho Avas in his heart of the reformed persuasion, secretly
encouraged the Albigenses, and gave them hopes, that if they acted
Avith prudence, they might cast off the yoke of the tyrannical Ear)
Simon. They took his advice, and Avhile Simon Avas gone to Mont-
pellier, they surprised some of his fortresses, and were successful in
several expeditions against his officers.
Conduct of Simon.
These proceedings so enraged Simon, that, returning from Mont
pellier, he collected together some forces, marched against the Alui-
genses, and ordered every prisoner he took to be immediately burnt:
butnot succeeding in some of his enterprises, he greAv disheartentu,
PERSECUTIONS OF THE ALBIGENSES. 93
and wrote to every Roman Catholic power in Europe to send him as-
sistance, otherwise he should not be able to hold out against the Albi-
genses. He soon received some succours, with which he attacked
the castle of Beron, and making himself master of it, ordered the eyes
to be put out, and the noses to be cut off, of all the garrison, one per-
son alone excepted, who was deprived of one eye only, that he might
conduct the rest to Cabaret. He then undertook the siege of Me-
nerbc, which, on account of the want of water, Avas obliged to yield
to him. The lord of Ternies, the governor, was put in prison, where
he died ; his wife, sister, daughter, and 180 others, were committed
to the flames. Many other castles surrendered to the forces of this
monster, and the inhabitants were butchered in a manner equally bar-
barous.
Earl of Toulouse excommunicated.
In the mean time the earl of Toulouse, by means of letters of re-
commendation from the king of France, was reconciled to the jiope :
at least the pope pretended to give him remission for the death of
Friar Peter, and to absolve him from all other crimes he had commit-
ted. But the legate, by the connivance of the pope, did all he could
to ruin the earl. Some altercations having passed between them, the
legate excommunicated the earl ; and the bishop of Toulouse, upon
this encouragement, sent this impudent message to the earl, " That as
he was an excommunicated person, he commanded him to depart the
city ; for an ecclesiastic could not say mass with propriety, while a
person of such a description was so near him."
Being greatly exasperated at the bishop's insolence, the earl sent
him an order immediately to depart from the place on pain of death.
This order was all the prelate wanted, as it would give him some rea-
son to complain of his lord. The bishop, with the canons of the ca-
thedral church, marched out of the city in solemn procession, bare-
footed and barelieadcd, taking with them the cross, banner, host, &c.
and proceeded in that manner to the legate's army, where they were
received with great respect as persecuted saints ; and the legate
thought tliis a sufficient excuse to proceed against the earl of Toulouse
for having, as he termed it, relapsed from the truth. He attempted to
get the earl into his power by stratagem, but the latter being apprized
of his design, escaped. The legate, enraged at this disappointment,
laid siege to the castle of Montferrand, which belonged to the earl,
and was governed by Baldwin his brother. On the first summons,
Baldwin not only surrendered, but abjured his religion, and turned
papist. This event, which severely afflicted the earl, was followed
by another that gave him still greater mortification ; for his old friend,
the king of Arragon, forsook his interest; and agreed to give his
daughter in marriage to Earl Simon's eldest son : — the legate's troops
were then joined Ijy the forces of Arragon, and those belonging to
Earl Simon, on which they jointly laid siege to Toulouse.
Successes of the Alhigenses.
Nevertheless, the earl determined to interrupt the besiegers by fre-
quent sallies. In the first attempt he met Avith a severe repulse ; but
ui the second he took Simon's son prisoner, and in the third he un-
horsed Simon himself. After several furious assaults given by the
popish army, and some successful salUes of the Alhigenses, the earl of
94 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Toulouse compelled his enemies to raise the siege. In their retreat
they did much mischief in the countries through which they passed,
and put many defenceless Albigenses to death.
The earl of Toulouse now did all he could to recover the friend-
ship of the king of Arragon ; and as the marriage ceremony between
that monarch's daughter, and Simon's son, had not been performed,
he entreated him to break off that match, and proposed another more
proper, viz. that his own eldest son and heir should wed the princess
of Arragon, and that by this match their friendship should be again
united, and more fn mly cemented. His majesty was easily persuaded
not only to agree to this proposal, but to form a league with the prin-
cipal Albigenses, and to put himself as captain-general at the head of
their united forces, consisting of his own people, and of the troops of
the earls of Toulouse, Foix, and Comminges. The papists were greatly
alarmed at these proceedings; Simon sent to all parts of Europe, to
engage the assistance of the Roman Catholic powers, and the pope's
legate began hostilities by entering the dominions of the earl of Foix,
and committing the most cruel depredations.
As soon as the army of Albigenses was ready, the king of Arragon
began his operations by laying siege to Murat, a strongly fortified
town near Toulouse, belonging to the Roman Catholics. Earl Si-
mon, by forced marches, came to the assistance of the place, at a time
when the king of Arragon, who kept very little discipline in his army,
was feasting and revelling. Simon suddenly attacked the Albigenses,
while they were in confusion, when the united forces of the reformed
were defeated, and the king of Arragon was killed. The loss of this
battle was imputed to the negligence of the king, who would have as
much entertainment in a camp, as if he had been securely at peace in
his capital. This victory made the popish commanders declare they
would entirely extirpate the whole race of the Albigenses ; and Simon
sent an insolent message to the earls of Toulouse, Foix, and Commin-
ges, to deliver to him all the castles and fortresses of which they were
possessed. Those noblemen, instead of answering the demand, re-
tired to their respective territories, to out them into the best posture
of resistance.
Surrender of Toulouse.
Soon after, Simon marched towards the city of Toulouse, when the
earl of Toulouse, who had retired to Montalban, sent word to the citi-
zens to make the best terms they could with the Roman Catholics, as
he was confident they could not hold out a siege ; but he recommend-
ed them to preserve their hearts for him, though they surrendered
their persons to another. The citizens of Toulouse, upon receiving
this intimation, sent deputies to Simon, with offers of immediate sur-
render, provided the city itself, and the persons and properties of its
inhabitants, should be protected from devastation. These conditions
were agreed to, and Simon, in order to ingratiate himself at court,
wrote a letter to Prince Louis, the son of Philip, king of France, in-
forming him that the city of Toulouse had offered to surrender to him ;
but being v/illing that the prince should have the honour of receiving
the keys, and the homage of the people, he begged that he would re-
pair to the camp for tliat purpose. The prince, pleased with the invi-
tation, went directly to the army, and had the city of Toulouse surren-
PERSECUTIONS OF THE ALBIGENSES. 95
dered to him in form. The pope's legate, however, was greatly dis-
pleased at the mild conditions granted to the people, and insisted, that
though the prince might take upon him the sovereignty of the place,
and receive the homage of the people, yet the plunder belonged to the
hohj pilgrims, (for so the popish soldiers employed in these expeditions
were called ;) and that the place, as a receptacle of heretics, ought
to be dismantled. The prince and Earl Simon in vain remonstrated
against proceedings so contrary to the conditions granted at the sur-
render : the legate was peremptory, when Earl Simon and the prince,
unwilling to come to an open rupture with him, gave up the point.
The legate immediately set his holy pilgrims to work, when they pre-
sently dismantled the city, and plundered the inhabitants of all their
property, in defiance of the security granted to them by the articles
of the surrender.
Dispute between the Legate and the Prince.
Now the legate finding that among the Albigenses were many lu-
crative places which would fall to the disposal of the prince, determin-
ed, by an artifice, to deprive him of any advantage which might ac-
crue from them ; to this end, he gave absolution to the Albigenses,
which, though they had not in the least changed their religious opi-
nions, he called reconciling them to the church. The prince, not ap-
prised of this stratagem, was about to give his officers possession of
some places of profit; when, to his great astonishment, the legate in-
formed him, that he had no power to dispose of those places. The
prince demanded an explanation of his meaning. " My meaning,"
replied the legate, " is, that the people have received absolution, and
being reconciled to, are consequently under the protection of the
church ; therefore, all places among, or connected with them, are in
the disposal of the church only."
The prince, offended at this mode of reasoning, and highly dis
pleased at the meanness of the subterfuge, nevertheless thought pro
per to dissemble his resentment. But being determined to quit the
legate, he put the troops that were under his command in motion, and
marched to attack some other fortresses; but he found, wherever he
came, that the legate had played the same trick, and plainly perceived,
if he continued his military operations, that when unsuccessful, he
should bear all the blame, and when successful, the legate would
steal all the profit ; he therefore left the army in disgust, and return-
ed to court.
Defeat of Earl Simon.
On this. Earl Simon, with his own forces, those the prince had just
quitted, and some other auxiliaries, undertook the siege of Foix, being
chiefly provoked to it by the death of his brother, who was slain by
the earl of Foix. He lay before the castle of Foix for ten days, dur-
ing which time he frequently assaulted it, but was as often repulsed.
Hearing that an army of Arragonese were in full march towards him,
in order to revenge the death of their king, he raised the siege, and
went to meet them. The earl of Foix immediately sallied out and
harrassed his rear, and the Arragonese attacking his front, gave him
a total defeat, which compelled him to shut himself up in Carcasson.
Soon afterwards, the pope's legate called a council at Montpellier
96 BOOK OP MARTYRS.
for renewing the military operations against the Albigenses, and foi
doing proper honour to Earl Simon, who was present ; for the Arra-
gonese, not taking advantage of their victory, had neglected to block
up Cai-casson, by which omission Simon had an opportunity of repair-
ing to Montpellier. On meeting the council, the legate, in the pope's
name, paid many compliments to Simon, and declared, that he should
be prince of all the countries that might in future be taken from the
Albigenses : at the same time, by order of the pontiff, he styled him
" the active and dexterous soldier of Jesus Christ, and the invincible
defender of the Catholic faith." But just as the earl was about to
return thanks for these great honours and fine encomiums, a messen-
ger brought word that the people having heard Earl Simon was in the
council, had taken up arms, and were coming thither to destroy him
as a common disturber. This intelligence threw the whole council
into great confusion ; and Earl Simon, though a minute before styled
an invincible defender of the faith, jumped out of the window, and stole
away from the city.
Council of Later an.
The disputes becoming serious, according to the opinion of the pa
pists, the pope himself soon after called a council, to be held at Late
ran, in which great powers were granted to Roman Catholic inqusi-
tors, and many Albigenses Avcre immediately put to death. This
council of Lateran likewise confirmed to Earl Simon all the honours
intended him by the council of Montpellier, and empowered him to
raise another array against the Albigenses. Earl Simon inmiediately
repaired to court, received his investiture from the French king, and
began to levy forces. Having now a considerable number of troops,
he determined, if possible, to exterminate the Albigenses, when he
received advice, that his countess was besieged in Narbonne by the
earl of Toulouse. He proceeded to the relief of his wife, when the
Albigenses met him, gave him battle, and defeated him ; but he found
means to escape and get into the castle of Narbonne.
Recovery of Toulouse by the Albigenses.
After this, Toulouse was recovered by the Albigenses ; but the
pope espousing Earl Simon's cause, raised forces for him, and enabled
him once more to undertake the siege of that city. The earl assault-
ed the place furiously, but being repulsed with great loss, he seemed
sunk in affliction: when the pope's legate said, to comfort him, " Fear
nothing, my lord, make another vigorous attack ; let us by any means
recover the city, and destroy the inhabitants ; and those of our men
who are slain in the fight, 1 will assure you, shall immediately pass
into paradise." One of the earl's principal officers, on hearing this,
said with a sneer, "Monsieur cardinal, you talk with great assurance;
but if the earl believes, you, he will, as heretofore, pay dearly for his
confidence." Earl Simon, however, took the legate's advice, made
another assault, and was again repulsed. To complete his misfor-
tune, before the troops could recover from their confusion, the earl of
Foix made his appearance at the head of a formidable body of forces,
attacked the already dispirited army of Earl Simon, and easily put them
to the route ; when the earl himself narroM'ly escaped drowning in
the Garronne, into which he had hastily plunged, in order to avoid
being captured. This miscarriage almost broke his heart; but the
Siezure of a person hy order of the Inquisition
P. 105.
PERSECUTIOINS OF THE ALBIGENSES. 07
pope's legate continued to encourage him, and offered to raise another
army, which promise, with some difficulty, and three years delay, h<'
at length performed, and that bigoted nobleman was once more ena-
bled to take the field. On this occasion he turned his whole force
against Toulouse, which he besieged for the space of nine months,
when in one of the sallies made by the besieged, his horse was wound-
ed. The animal being in great anguisli, ran away with him, and bore
him directly under the ramparts of the city, Avhen an archer shot him
in the thigh with an arrow ; and a woman immediately after throAving
a large stone from the wall, it struck him upon the head, and killed
him ; thus were the Albigenses, like the Israelites, delivered by the
hand of a woman ; and thus this atrocious monster, who had so long
persecuted the people of God, was at length himself slain by one of
those whom he had intended to have slaughtered if he had been suc-
cessful. The siege was raised ; but the legate, enraged to be disap-
pointed of his vengeance on the inhabitanlo, engaged the king of
France in the cause, who sent his son to besiege it. The French
prince, with some chosen troops, furiously assaulted Toulouse ; but
meeting with a severe repulse, he abandoned that city to besiege Mi-
romand. This place he soon took by storm, and put to the sword
all the inhabitants, consisting of 5000 men, women, and children.
The bloodthirsty legate, whose name was Betrand, being very old,
grew weary of following the army ; but his passion for murder still
remained, as appears by his epistle to the pope, in which he begs to
be recalled on account of age and infirmities ; but entreats the pon-
tiff to appoint a successor, who might carry on the war, as he had
done, with spirit and perseverance. In consequence, the pope recalled
Betrand, and appointed Conrade, bishop of Portua, to be legate in
his room. The latter determined to follow tlie steps of his predeces-
sor, and to persecute the Albigenses with the greatest severity. Gui-
do, earl of Montfort, the son and heir of Earl Simon, undertook the
command of the troops, and immediately laid siege to Toulouse, befoi e
the walls of which he was killed. His brother Almeric succeeded to
the command, but the bravery of the garrison soon obliged him to
raise the siege. On this the legate prevailed upon the king of France
to undertake the siege of Toulouse in person, and reduce to the obe-
dience of the church those obstinate heretics, as he called the brave
Albigenses. The earl of Toulouse, hearing of the great prepai-ations
made by the king of France, sent the women, children, cattle, &c.
into secret and secure places in the moimtains, plouglied up the land,
that the king's forces should not obtain any forage, and did all that a
skilful general could perform to distress the enemy. By these wise
regulations, the French army, soon after entering the earldom of Tou-
louse, suffered all the extremities of famine, which obliged the troops
to feed on the carcasses of horses, dogs, cats, &c. which unwhole-
some food produced the plague. The king died of grief; but his
son, who succeeded him, determined to carry on the war; he wfs,
however, defeated in three engagements, by the earl of Touloui e.
The king, the queen-mother, and three archbishops, again raised a
formidable army, and had the art to persuade the earl of Toulouse to
come to a conference, when he was treacherously seized upon, made a
prisoner, forced to appear barefooted and bareheaded before his ene-
mies, and compelled to subscribe the following ignominious con'Ii-
7
gg BOOK OF MARTYRS.
tion- : 1. That he should abjure the faith that he had hitherto defended
2. I'hat he should be subject to the church of Rome. 3. That he
should give his daughter Joan in marriage to one of the brothers of
the king of France. 4. That he should maintain in Toulouse six
popish professors of the liberal arts, and two grammarians. 5. That
lie should take upon him the cross, and serve five years against the
Saracens in the Holy Land. 6. That he should level the walls of
Toulouse with the ground. 7. That he should destroy the walls and
foi-tifications of thirty of his other cities and castles, as the legate
should direct. 8. That he should remain prisoner at Paris till his
daughter was delivered to the king's commissioners. After these
cruel conditions, a severe persecution took place against the Albigen-
ses, many of Avhom suffered for the faith : and express orders were
issued, that the laity should not he permitted to read the sacred writings!
SECTION IV.
PERSECUTIONS IN FRANCE, PREVIOUS TO, AND DURING THE CIVIi^
WARS OF THAT NATION.
In the year 1524, at a town in France called Melden, one John
Clark affixed a bill on the church door, in which he called the pope An-
tichrist: for this offence he was repeatedly whipped, and then branded
in the forehead. His mother, who saw the chastisement, cried with
a loud voice, " Blessed be Christ, and welcome these marks for his
sake." He went afterwards to Metz, in Lorraine, and demolished
some images, for which he had his right hand and nose cut off, and
his arms and breast torn by pincers ; while suffering these cruelties, he
sang the 115th psalm, which expressly forbids superstition. On con-
cluding the psalm, he was thrown into the fire and burnt to ashes.
About the same time several persons of the reformed persuasion
were beaten, racked, scourged, and burnt to death, in several parts of
France ; but particularly at Paris, LiiTiosin, and Malda.
A native of Malda was burnt by a slow fire for saying that mass was
a plain denial of the death and passion of Christ. At Limosin,
John de Cadurco, a clergyman of the reformed religion, was appre-
hended, degraded, and ordered to be burnt. When under examina-
tion, a friar undertook to preach a sermon upon the occasion ; when
opening the New Testament, he pitched upon this text, in the first epis-
tle of St. Paul to Timothy, chap. iv. ver. 1. " Now the spirit speak-
eth expressly, that in the latter times some shall depart from the faith,
giving heed to seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils." The friai
began to expound this verse in favour of the Roman Catholic persua-
sion, and in condemnation of the reformed religion, when John de
Cadurco begged, that before he proceeded in his sermon, he would
read the two verses which followed his text : — the friar again opened
the Testament, but on casting his eye on the passage, he appeared
confounded. Cadurco then desired that the book might be handed to
him ; this request being complied with, he read thus, " Speaking lies
in hypocrisy, having their conscience seared with a hot iron, forbid-
ding to marry, and commanding to abstain from*^ meats, which God
PERSECUTIONS IN FRANCE. 99
hatli created to be received with thanksgiving of them Avhich behcvo
and know the truth." The Roman Catholics, irritated at this expo-
siiie, condemned him to the flames.
At Paris, Alexander Kanus, a clerg3-man, was burnt in a slow fire,
and four men were committed to the flames for distributing papers
which ridiculed the saying of mass. One had his tongue bored through
for ridiculing the Romish superstitions. Peter Gaudet, a Genoese,
was burnt on the accusation of his own uncle, a bigoted Roman
Catholic ; and John Pointer, a surgeon, had his tongue cut out, and
was then burnt.
Martyrdom at Arras, c^c.
At Arras, Fontanis, and Rutiers, many were martyred for being of
the reformed religion ; at the latter place, in particular, one Stephen
Brune was condemned to be burnt for refusing to attend mass. When
the fire was kindled, the flames were driven from him by a brisk wind,
which occasioned the executioner to heap more faggots round him,
and pour oil on them. Still, however, the Avind blew the flames in a
contrary direction, when the executioner was absurdly enraged with
Brune, and struck him on the head ; but Brune, very calmly said,
"As I am condemned only to be burnt, why do you strike me like a
dog ?" This expression so greatly enraged the executioner, that he
ran him through \vith a pike, and then burnt the lifeless body.
Aymond de Lavoy, a minister of Bonrdeaux, had a complaint lodged
against him by the Romish clergy of that city. His friends advised
him to abscond, but he refused. He remained nine months in prison.
Being then brought to trial, he was ordered to be racked ; and when
in the extremity of torture, he comforted himself with this expression :
" This body must once die, but the soul shall live ; for the kingdom
of God endureth for ever." At length he swooned ; but on recovering,
he prayed for his persecutors. The question was then put to him,
whether he would embrace the Roman Catholic persuasion ; which
positively refusing, he was condemned to be burnt. At the place of
execution he said, " O Lord, make haste to help me ; tarry not ; des-
pise not the work of thy hands." And perceiving some who used to
attend his sermons, he addressed them thus : " My friends, I exhort
you to study and learn the gospel ; for the word of God abideth for-
ever : — labour to know the will of God, and fear not them that kill
the body, but have no power over the soul." The executioner then
stringled him, and burnt his body afterwards.
Husson, an apothecary of Blois, went to Rouen, and there privately
distributed several small pamphlets, explaining the tenets of the re-
formed church, and exposing the Romish superstitions. These books
gave a general alarm, and a council being called, an order was issued
for search to be made for the au.thar and distributor. It was disco-
vered that Husson had brought them to Rouen, and that he had gone to
Dieppe, and orders were given to pursue him. He was brought back
to Rouen, wheije he confessed he was both author and distributor of
the hooks. This occasioned his condemnation, and he was executed
in the following manner : his tongue being cut out, his hands and feet
were tied behind, and he was drawn up by a pulley to a gibbet, and
then let down into a fire kindled beneath ; in which situation he
called upon the Lord, and soon breathed his last.
jQQ BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Francis Bribard, secretary to cardinal de Bellay, for speaking in fa
voiir of the reformed, had his tongue cut out, and was burnt, A. D.
1514. James Cobard, a schoolmaster in the city of St. Michael, was
burnt, A. D. 1545, for saying the mass was useless and absurd ; and
about the same time, fourteen men were burnt at Malda, their wives
being compelled to behold their martyrdom.
Peter Chapot brought a number of Bibles in the French tongue to
France, and publicly sold them there in the year 1546, for which he
was condemned to be burnt ; as, soon after, were a cripple of Meaux,
a schoolmaster of Fera, named Stephen Polliot, and a man named
John English.
Numerous Martyrdoms.
Michael Michelot being told either to recant and be beheaded, or
to persevere and be burned, chose the latter, making use of these
words : " God has given me grace not to deny the truth, and will give
me strength to endure the fire." About the same time many were burnt
at Paris, Bar, &lc. ; and at Langres five men and two women suffered
for being of the reformed religion; when the youngest women encour-
aged the other, saying, "This day shall we be married to Jesus Christ,
and be with him for ever."
Monsieur Blondel, a rich jeweller, was, in 1549, apprehended at
Lyons, and sent to Paris, where he suffered dea'th for the faith.
Hubert, a youth of nineteen years of age, was committed to the flames
at Dijon ; as was Florent Venote, at the same time.
A lady, named Ann Audebert,who designed, on account of her faith,
to retire to Geneva, was seized and sent to Paris. She was led to
execution by a rope placed round her waist. This rope she called her
wedding girdle ; and said, "I was once married to a man on a Satur-
day, and now I shall bo married to God on the same day of the week."
Shortly after the coronation of Henry the Second, a tailor was ap-
prehended for working on a saint's day ; being asked why he gave
such an offence to religion, his reply was, " I am a poor man, and have
nothing but my labour to depend upon ; necessity requires that I should
be industrious, and my conscience tells me there is no day but the
Sabbath which I ought to keep sacred from labour. Having expressed
himself thus, he was committed to prison, and the affair being soon
after rumoured at court, some of the nobles persuaded the king to be
present at the ti^al. On the day appointed, the monarch appeared in
a superb chair of state, and the bishop of Mascon was ordered to in-
terrogate the prisoner. The tailor, on perceiving the king, paid his
obedience to him in the most respectful manner. The king was much
affected with his argiments, and seemed to muse ; on which the bishop
exclaimed, " He is an obstinate and impudent heretic ; let him be
taken back to prison and burnt to death." The prisoner was accord-
ingly conveyed to prison ; and the bishop artfully insinuated, that the
heretics, as he called the reformed, had many specious arguments,
which at first hearing, appeared conclusive; but on exmmination, they
were found to be false. He then endeavoured to persuade the king to
be present at the execution, who at length consented, and repaired to
a balcony which overlooked the place. On seeing the king, the tailor
fixed liis eyes steadfastly upon him, and even while the flames were
consuming him. kept gazing in such a manner, as threw the monarch
PERSECUTIONS IN FRANCE. JOI
into visible confusion, and obliged him to retire before the martyr was
dead. He was so much shocked, that he could not recover his spirits
for some time; and what added to his disquiet was, his continually
drtjaming, for many nights, that he saw the tailor with his eyes fixed
upon him, in the same manner as during the execution.
A pious man, named Claudius, was burnt at Orleans ; a Genoese
youth, called Thomas, having rebuked a Roman Catholic for profane-
ly swearing, was informed against as a heretic, and burnt at Paris ;
as were three men at Lyons, two of them with ropes about their necks ;
but the third, having been an officer in the king's service, was ex-
empted from that disgrace. He, however, begged to be treated in the
same manner as his companions, in honour of the Lord : his request
was complied with; and after having sung a psah" with great ferven-
cy, they were all consumed.
A citizen of Geneva, Simon Laloe, Matthew Dimonet, a converted
libertine, and Nicholas Naile, a bookseller of Paris, were burnt for
professing the reformed religion. Peter Serre was originally a priest,
but reflecting on the errors of popery, he, at length, embraced the re-
formed religion, and learned the trade of a shoemaker. Having a
brother at Toulouse, who was a bigoted Roman Catholic, Serre, out
of fraternal love, made a journey to that city, in order to dissuade him
from his superstitions: the brother's wife not approving of his design,
lodged a complaint against him, on which he was apprehended, and
made a full declaration of his faith. The judge asked him concerning
his occupation, to which he replied, "I have of late practised the trade
of a shoemaker." " Of late !" said the .Tudge, " and what did you prac-
tise formerly ?" " That I am almost ashamed to tell you," exclaimed
Serre, "because it was the vilest and most wicked occupation imagi-
nable." The judge, and all who were present, from these Avords, sup-
posed he had been a murderer or thief, and that what he spoke was
through contrition. He was, however, ordered to explain precisely
what he meant; when, with tears in his eyes, he exclaimed, " O, I
was formerly a Popish Priest !" This reply so much exasperated the
judge, that he condemned Serre to be first degraded, then to have his
tongue cut, and afterwards to be burnt.
In 1554, two men of the reformed religion, with the son and daughter
of one of them, were committed to the castle of Niverne. On exami-
nation they confessed their faith, and were ordered for execution; they
were first smeared with grease, brimstone, and gunpowder ; their
tongues were then cut out, and they Avere afterwards committed to the
flames.
Philip Hamlin, a priest, was apprehended for having renounced the
errors of popery. Being brought to the stake, he began to exhort the
people to quit the errors of the church of Rome ; on which the officer
who presided at the execution ordered the faggots to be lighted, and
that a trumpet should be blown Avhile Hamlin was burning, that the
people might not hear his voice
m
BOOK OP MARTYRS.
BOOK V.
HISTORICAL ACCOUNT OF THE INQVISITION IN SPAIN, PORTUGAL.
ITALY, &C.
SECTION I.
ORIGIN, PROGRESS, AND CRUELTIES OF THE INQUISITION.
When the reformed religion began to diffuse the pure light of the
gospel throughout Europe, the bigoted Roman Catholics, fearing the
exposure of tlie frauds and abuses of their church, determined to leave
nothing unattempted to crush the Reformation in its infancy ; Pope In-
nocent III. therefore instituted a number odnquisitors, or persons who
were to make inquiry after, apprehend, and punish the professors of
the reformed faith. At the head of these inquisitors was one Domini^ ,
who was canonized by the pope, in order to render his authority tht
more respectable. He and the other inquisitors visited the various
Roman Catholic countries, and treated the protestants with the utmost
severity : but at length the pope, not finding them so usefid as he had
expected, resolved upon the establishment of fixed and regular courts
of inquisition ; the first office of which was established in the city oi
Toulouse, and Dominic became the first inquisitor.
Courts of inquisition were also erected in several other countries ;
but the Spanish inquisition became the most powerful, and the most
dreadful of any. Even the kings of Spain themselves, though arbitra-
ry in all other respects, were taught to dread its power; and the hor-
rid cruelties exercised by the inquisition, compelled multitudes, who
differed in opinion from the Catholics, carefully to conceal their sen-
timents. The Dominicans and Franciscans were the m.ost zealous of
all the monks : these, therefore, the pope invested with an exclusive
right of presiding over, and managing the different courts of inquisi-
tion. The friars of those two orders were always selected from the
very dregs of the people, and therefore were not much troubled with
?crup'es of co-science ; they were obliged, by the rules of their re-
sp3ctivr orders, to lead very austere lives, which rendered their man-
ners unsocial, and better qualified them for their barbarous employ
ment.
The pope gave the inquisitors the most unlimited powers, as judges
delegated by him, and immediately representing his person : they were
permitted to excommunicate, or sentence to death, whom they thought
proper, upon the slightest information of heresy : were allowed to pub-
lish crusades against all whom they deemed heretics, and enter into
leogues with sovereign princes, to join those crusades with their
forces. About the year 1244, their power was further increased by the
Emperor Frederic the Second, who declared himself the protector and
friend of all inquisitors, and published two cruel edicts, viz. that all he-
retics, who continued obstinate, should be burnt; and that all who re
pented, should be imprisoned for life. This zeal in the emperor for
THE mauisiTioN. - 103
tne inquisitors, and the Roman Catholic persuasion, arose from a re-
port which had been propagated throughout Europe, that he intended
to turn Mahometan ; the emperor, therefore, judiciously determined,
by the height of bigotry and cruelty, to show his attachment iopopery.
The ofticers of the inquisition are, three inquisitors or judges, a proc-
tor fiscal, two secretaries, a magistrate, a messenger, a receiver, a
gaoler, an agent of confiscated possessions, and several assessors,
counsellors, executioners, physicians, surgeons, door keepers, fami-
liars, and visiters, who are all sworn to profound secrecy. The chief
accusation against those who are subject to this tribunal is heresy,
which comprises all that is spoken or written against any of the arti-
cles of the creed, or the tradition of the Romish church. The other
articles of accusation are, renouncing the Roman Catholic persuasion,
and believing that persons of any other religion may be saved, or even
admitting that the tenets of any but papists are in the least reasonable.
There are two other things which incur the most severe punishments,
viz. to disapprove of any action done by the inquisition, or disbelieve
any thing said by an inquisitor.
Heresy comprises many subdivisions; and upon a suspicion of any
of these, the party is immediately apprehended. Advancing an
offensive proposition ; failing to impeach others who may advance
such ; contemning church ceremonies ; defacing idols ; reading
books condemned by the inquisition ; lending such books to others
to read ; deviating from the ordinary practices of the Romish
church ; letting a year pass without going to confession ; eatino- meat
on fast days; neglecting mass ; being present at a sermon preached
by a heretic; not appearing when summoned by the inquisition:
lodging in the house of, contracting a friendship with, or making
a present to a heretic ; assisting a heretic to escape from confine-
ment, or visiting one in confinement, are all matters of suspicion,
and prosecuted accordingly. All Roman Catholics are commanded,
under pain of excommunication, to give immediate information, even
of their nearest and dearest friends, if they judge them to be here-
tics, or inclining to heresy. All who give the least assistance to pro-
lestants are called fautors, or abettors of heresy, and the accusations
against these are for Comforting such as the inquisition have begun to
prosecute ; assisting, or not informing against such, if they should
happen to escape ; concealing, abetting, advising, or furnishing here-
tics with money ; visiting, or writing to, or sending them subsistence;
secreting, or burning books and papers which might serve to convict
them. The inquisition also takes cognizance of such as are accused
of being magicians, witches, blasphemers, soothsayers, wizards, com-
mon swearers ; and of such wl;o read, or even possess the Bible in
the vulgar tongues, the Talmud of the Jews, or the Alcoran of the
Mahometans.
Upon all occasions, the inquisitors carry on their processes with the
utmost severity. They seldom show mercy to a Protestant; and a
Jew, who turns Christian, is far from being secure; for if he is known
to keep company with another new converted Jew, a suspicion arises
that they privately practise together some Jewish ceremonies ; if he
keep company with a person who was lately a Protestant, but now
professes popery, they are accused of plotting together ; but if he as-
sociate with a Roman Catholic, an accusation is often laid against
1Q4 . BOOK OF MARTYRS.
him for only pretending to be a papist, and the consequence is, a con-
fiscation of his effect?, and the loss of his life if he complain.
A defence is of little use to the prisoner ; for a suspicion only is
deemed sufficient cause of condemnation, and the greater his wealth
the greater his danger. Most of the inquisitors' cruelties are owing
to their rapacity; they destroy life to possess the property; and,
under pretence of zeal, plunder individuals of their rights. A prisoner
of the inquisitors is never allowed to see the face of his accuser, or
any of the witnesses against him, but every method is taken, by
threats and tortures, to oblige him to accuse himself. If the jurisdic-
tion of the inquisition be not fully allowed, vengeance is denounced
against such as call it in question; or if any of its officers are opposed,
those who oppose them are almost certain to be sufferers for their
temerity ; the maxim of the inquisition being to strike terror, and awe
those who are the objects of its power into obedience. High birth, dis-
tinguished rank, or eminent employments, are no protection from its
severities; and its lowest officers can make the most exalted noble-
man tremble at their authority.
Such are the circumstances which subject a person to the rage ot
the inquisition; and the modes of beginning the process are, 1. To
proceed by imputation, or prosecute on common report ; 2. By the
information of any indifferent person wno chooses to impeach ano-
ther ; 3. On the information of spies who are retained by the inquisi-
tion ; and, 4. On the confession of the prisoner himself.
The inquisitors never forget or forgive ; length of time cannot
efface their resentments ; nor can the humblest concessions, or most
liberal presents, obtain a pardon ; they carry the desire of revenge to
the grave, and Avish to have both the property and lives of those who
have offended them. Hence, when a person once accused to the in-
quisition, after escaping, is retaken, pardon is next to an impossibility.
If a positive accusation be given, the inquisitors direct an order to the
executioner, who takes a certain number of familiars with him to
assist in the execution. Father, son, brother, sister, husband, or wife,
must quietly submit ; none dare resist or even speak ; as either would
subject them to the same punishment as the devoted victim. No re-
spite is allowed, but the prisoner is instantaneously hurried away.
This dreadful engine of tyranny may, at any time, be introduced
into a country where the Catholics have the upper hand ; and hence,
how careful ought we to be, who are not cursed with such an arbi-
trary court, to prevent its introduction ! In treating of this subject,
an elegant author pathetically says, " How horrid a scene of perfidy
and inhumanity ! What kind of community must that be, whence gra-
titude, love, and mutual forbearance, with regard to human frailties, are
banished ! What must that tribunal be, which obliges parents not
only to erase from their minds the remembrance of their own children.
lo extinguish all those keen sensations of tenderness and affection
wherewith nature inspires them, but even to extend their inhumanity
so far as to force them to commence their accusers, and, consequently,
to become the cause of the cruelties inflicted upon them ! What ideas
ought we to form to ourselves of a tribunal, which obliges children not
only to stifle every soft impulse of gratitude, love, and respect, due to
those who gave them birth, but even forces them, and that under the
most rigorous penalties, to be spies over their parents, and to discover
THE INaUlSlTION. 105
to a set of merciless inquisitors the crimes, the errors, and even the
.ittic lapses to which they are exposed by human frailty ! In a word,
a tribunal which will not permit relations, when imprisoned in its hor-
rid dungeons, to give each other the succours, or perform the duties
which religion enjoins, must be of an infernal nature. What disor-
der and confusion must such conduct give rise to, in a tenderly affec-
lionate family ! An expression, innocent in itself, and, perhaps, but
too true, shall, from an indiscreet zeal, or a panic of fear, give infinite
uneasiness to a family ; shall ruin its peace entirely, and perhaps
cause one or more of its members to be the unhappy victims of the
most barbarous of all tribunals. What distractions must necessarily
break forth in a house where the husband and wife are at variance, or
the children loose and wicked ! Will such children scruple to sacri-
fice a father, who endeavours to restrain them by his exhortations, by
reproofs, or paternal corrections ? Will they not rather, after plun
dering his house to support their extravagance and riot, readily deli-
ver up their unhappy parent to all the horrors of a tribunal founded
on the blackest injustice ? A riotous husband, or a loose wife has an
easy opportunity, assisted by means of the persecution in question, to
rid themselves of one who Is a check to their vices, by delivering him,
or her, up to the rigours of the inquisition."
When the inquisitors have taken umbrage against an innocent
person, all expedients are used to facilitate his condemnation ; false
oaths and testimonies are employed to prove the accused to be guilty ;
and all laws and institutions are sacrificed to the bigoted revenge of
papacy.
When a person accused is taken, his treatment is deplorable. The
goalers first begin by searching him for books and papers which might
tend to his conviction, or for instruments which might be employed
in self-murder or escape, and on this pretext they even rob him of
his wearing apparel When he has been searched and robbed, he is
committed to prison. Innocence, on such an occasion, is a weak
reed ; nothing being easier than to ruin an innocent person.
The mildest sentence is imprisonment for life ; yet the inquisitors
proceed by degrees, at once subtle, slow, and cruel. The gaoler first
of all insinuates himself into the prisoner's favour, by pretending to
wish him well, and advise him well ; and among other pretended kind
hints, tells him to petition for an audit. When he is brought before
the consistory, the first demand is, " What is your request ?" To this
the prisoner very naturally answers, that he would have a hearing.
Hereupon one of the inquisitors replies, " Your hearing is this : con-
fess the truth, conceal nothing, and rely on our mercy." Now, if the
prisoner make a confession of any trifling affair, they immediately
found an indictment on it ; if he is mute, they shut him up without
light, or any food but a scanty allowance of bread and water, till his
obstinacy is overcome ; and if he declare he is innocent, they torment
him till he either die with the pain, or confess himself guilty.
On the re-examination of such as confess, they continually say,
" You have not been sincere ; you tell not all ; you keep many things
concealed, and therefore must be remanded to your dungeon." When
those who have stood mute are called for re-examination, if they con-
tinue silent, such tortures are ordered as will either make them
speak, or kill them ; and when those who proclaim their ijiuocence
^^J^ BOOK OF MARTYRS.
are re-e.vamined, a crucifix is held before them, and they are solerniily
exhorted to take an oath of their confession of faith. This bungs
them to the test; they must either swear they are Roman Catholics,
or acknowledge they are not. If they acknowledge they are not,
they are proceeded against as heretics. If they acknowledge they
are Roman Catholics, a string of accusations is brought against them,
to which they are obliged to answer extempore ; no time being given
even to arrange their answers. On having verbally answered, pen,
ink, and paper are given them, in order to produce a written answer,
which must in every degree coincide with the verbal answer. If the
verbal and written answers differ, the prisoners are charged with pre-
varication ; if one contain more than the other, they are accused of
wishing to conceal certain circumstances ; if they both agree, they
are charged with premeditated artifice.
After a person impeached is condemned, he is either severely
whipped, violently tortured, sent to the galleys, or sentenced to death;
and in either case his efi'ects are confiscated. After judgment, a pro-
cession is formed to the place of execution, which ceremony is called
an Auto da Fe, or Act of Faith.
Auto da Fe, at Madrid.
The following is an account of an Auto da Fe, at Madrid, in the
year 1682.
The officers of the inquisition, preceded by trumpets, kettle-drums,
and their banner, marched on the 30th of May, in cavalcade, to the
palace of the great square, where they declared by proclamation, that
on the 30th of June the sentence of the prisoners would be put in
execution. There had not been a spectacle of this kind at Madrid
for several years, for which reason it was expected by the inhabi-
tants with as much impatience as a day of the greatest festivity and
triumph.
When the day appointed arrived, a prodigious number of peopo
appeared, dressed as splendidlj' as their circumstances would allow.
In the great square was raised a high scaffold ; and thither, from
seven in the morning till the evening, were brought criminals of both
sexes ; all the inquisitions in the kingdom sending their prisoners to
Madrid. Twenty men and women of these prisoners, with one rene-
gado Mahometan, were ordered to be burnt ; fifty Jews and Jewesses,
having never before been imprisoned, and repenting of their crime,
were sentenced to a long confinement, and to wear a yellow cap ;
and ten others, indicted for bigamy, witchcraft, and other crimes,
were sentenced to be whipped, and then sent to the galleys : these
last wore large pasteboard caps, with inscriptions on them, having a
halter about their necks, and torches in their hands.
On this solemn occasion the whole court of Spain was present.
The grand inquisitor's chair was placed in a sort of tribunal far above
that of the king. The nobles here acted the part of the sherifl''s offi-
cers in England, leading such criminals as were to be burned, and
holding them when fast bound with thick cords : the rest of the cri-
minals were conducted by the familiars of the inquisition.
Among those who were to suffer, was a young Jewess of exquisite
beauty, only seventeen years of age. Being on the same side of the
scaffold where the queen was seated, she addressed her, in hopes of
THE INaUISITIO^. 107
obtaining a pardon, in the following pathetic speech : " Great queen !
will not your royal presence be of some service to me in my miserable
condition ? Have regard to my youth ; and, oh ! consider that I am
about to die for professing a religion imbibed from my earliest infancy!"
Her majesty seemed greatly to pity her distress, but turned away her
eyes, as she did not dare to speak a word in behalf of a person who
had been declared a heretic by the inquisition.
Mass now began, in the midst of which the priest came from the
altar, placed near the scaffold, and seated himself in a chair prepared
for that purpose. Then the chief inquisitor descended from the am-
phitheatre, dressed in his cope, and having a mitre on his head. Af-
ter bowing to the altar, he advanced towards the king's balcony, and
went up to it, attended by some of his officers, carrying a cross and
the gospels, with a book containing the oath by which the kings of
Spain oblige themselves to protect the catholic faith, to extirpate here-
tics, and support, with all their power, the prosecutions and decrees
of the inquisition. On the approach of the inquisitor, and on his pre-
senting this book to the king, his majesty rose up bareheaded, and
swore to maintain the oath, which was read to him by one of his coun-
sellors ; after which, the king continued standing till the inquisitor had
returned to his place ; when the secretary of the holy office mounted
a sort of pulpit, and administered a like oath to the counsellors and
the whole assembly. The mass was begun about twelve at noon, and
did not end till nine in the evening, being protracted by a proclama-
tion of the sentences of the several criminals, which were all sepa-
rately rehearsed aloud one after the other. Next followed the burn-
ing of the twenty-one men and women, whose intrepidity in suffering
that horrid death was truly astonishing : some thrust their hands and
feet into the flames with the most dauntless fortitude ; and all of them
yielded to their fate with such resolution, that many of the amazed
spectators lamented that such heroic souls had not been more enlight-
ened ! The situation of the king was so near to the criminals, that their
dying groans were very audible to him : he could not, however, be ab-
sent from this dreadful scene, as it is esteemed a religious one ; and
his coronation oath obliges him to give a sanction by his presence to
all the acts of the tribunal.
Another Auto da Fe.
Another Auto da Fe is thus described by Dr. Geddes : — " At the
place of execution there are so many stakes set as there are prisoners
to be burned, a large quantity of dry furze being set about them. —
The stakes of the protestants, or, as the inquisitors call them, the pro-
fessed, are about four yards high, and have each a small board,
whereon the prisoner is seated within half a yard of the top. The
professed then go up a ladder betwixt two priests, who attend the
whole day of execution. When they come even with the foremen-
tioned board, they turn about to the people, and the priests spend
near a quarter of an hour in exhorting them to be reconciled to the
see of Rome. On their refusing, the priests come down, and the exe-
cutioner ascends, turns the professed from off the ladder upon the seat,
chains their bodies close to the stakes, and leaves them. Then the
priests go up a second time to renew their exhortations, and if taey
find them ineffectual, usually tell them, at parting, that they leave
jOa BOOK OP MARTYRS
them to the devil, who is standing at their elbow ready to receive their
souls, and carry tliem with him into the flames of hell-fire, as soon as
they are out of their bodies.
" A general shout is then raised, and when the priests get off the
ladder, the universal cry is, ' Let the dogs' beards be made," which
implies, singe their beards; this is accordingly performed by means of
flaming furzes thrust against their faces with long poles. This bar-
barity is repeated till their faces are burnt, and is accompanied with
loud acclamations. Fire is then set to the furzes, and the criminals
are consumed."
Inquisition of Portugal.
The inquisition of Portugal is exactly upon a s-imilar plan to that ol
Spain, having been instituted about the same time, and put under the
same regulations, and the proceedings nearly resemble each other.
The house, or rather palace, of the inquisition, is a noble edifice. It
contains four courts, each about forty feet square, round which
are about 300 dungeons or cells. The dungeons on the ground floor
are for the lowest class of prisoners, and those on the second floor
are for persons of superior rank. The galleries are built of free-
stone, and hid from view both within and without by a double wall of
about fifty feet high. So extensive is the whole prison, which con-
tains so many turnings and windings, that none but those well ac-
quainted with it can find the way through its various avenues. The
apartments of the chief inquisitor are spacious and elegant ; the en-
trance is through a large gave, which leads into a court-yard, round
which are several chambers, and some large saloons for the king,
royal family, and the rest of the court, to stand and observe the exe-
cutions during an Auto da Fe.
A testoon (sevenpence halfpenny English money) is allowed every
prisoner daily ; and the principal gaoler, accompanied by two other
ofiicers, monthly visits every prisoner to inquire how he would have
his allowance laid out. This visit, however, is only a matter of form,
for the gaoler usually lays out the money as he pleases, and commonly
allows the prisoner daily a porringer of broth, half a pound of beef, a
small piece of bread, and a trifling portion of cheese.
Sentinels walk about continually to listen; if the least noise is heard,
they call to, and threaten the prisoner ; if the noise is repeated, a se-
vere beating ensues. The following is a fact ; a prisoner having a
violent cough, one of the guards came and ordered him not to make a
noise ; to which he replied, that it was not in his power to forbear.
The cough increasing, the guard went into the cell, stripped the poor
creature naked, and beat him so unmercifully that he soon after died
Sometimes a prisoner passes months without knowing of what he
is accused, or having the least idea of when he is to be tried. The
gaoler at length informs him, that he must petition for a trial. This
ceremony being gone through, he is taken for examination. "When
they come to the door of the tribunal, the gaoler knocks three times,
to give the judges notice of their approach. A bell is rung by one
of the judges, when an attendant opens the door, admits the prisoner,
and seats him on a stool.
The prisoner is then ordered, by the president, to kneel down, and
la/ his right hand upon a book, which is presented to him close shut
THE mauisiTioN. 109
This being complied with, the following question is put to him :
" Will you promise to conceal the secrets of the holy office, and to
speak the truth?" Should he answer in the negative, he is remanded
to his cell, and cruelly treated. If he answer in the affirmative, he
is ordered to be again seated, and the examination proceeds ; when
the president asks a variety of questions, and the clerk minutes both
them and the answers.
When the examination is closed, the bell is again rung, the gaoler
appears, and the prisoner is ordered to withdraw, with this exhorta-
tion : " Tax your memory, recollect all the sins you have ever com-
mitted, and when you are again brought here, communicate them
to the holy office." The gaolers and attendants, Avhen apprised that
the prisoner has made an ingenuous confession, and readily answered
every question, make him a low bow, and treat him with an affected
kindness, as a reward for his candour.
He is brought in a few days to a second examination, with the same
formalities as before. The inquisitors often deceive prisoners by
promising the greatest lenity, and even to restore their liberty, if they
will accuse themselves ; the unhappy persons, who are in their power,
frequently fall into this snare, and are sacrificed to their own sim-
plicity. Instances have occurred of some, who, relying on the faith
of their judges, have accused themselves of what they were totally
innocent of, in expectation of obtaining their liberty ; and thus became
martyrs to their own folly.
There is another artifice made use of by the inquisitors ; if a pri-
soner has too much resolution to accuse himself, and too much sense to
be ensnared by their sophistry, they proceed thus : a copy of an in-
dictment against the prisoner is given him, in which, among many
trivial accusations, he is charged with the most enormous crimes of
which human nature is capable. This rouses his temper, and he ex-
claims against such falsehoods. He is then asked which of the crimes
he can deny. He naturally mentions the most atrocious, and begins
to express his abhorrence of them, when the indictment being snatch-
ed out of his hand, the president says, " By your denying only those
crimes which you mention, you implicitly confess the rest, and we
shall therefore proceed accordingly." Sometimes they maJce a ridicu-
lous affectation of equity, by pretending that the prisoner may be in-
dulged with a counsellor, if he chooses to demand one. Such a re-
quest is sometimes made, and a counsellor appointed; but upon these
occasions, as the trial itself is a mockery of justice, so the counsellor
is a mere cipher : for he is not permitted to say any thing that might
offend the inquisition, or to advance a syllable that might benefit the
prisoner.
Though the inquisitors allow the torture to be used only three times,
yet at those three it is so severely inflicted, that the prisoner either
dies under it, or continues always after a cripple. The following is a
description of the severe torments occasioned by the torture, from the
account of one who suffered it the three respective times, but happily
survived its cruelties.
First time of torturing:
The prisoner, on refusing to comply with the iniquitous demands of
the inquisitors, by confessing all the crimes they charged him with
110 BOOK OP MARTYPvS.
was immediately conveyed to the torture-room, v/hicli, to prevent the
''ries of the sufferers from being heard by the other prisoners, is lined
with a kind of quilting, which covers all the crevices, and deadens the
sound. The prisoner's horror was extreme on entering this infernal
place, when suddenly he was surrounded by six wretches, who, after
preparing the tortures, stripped him naked to his drawers. He was
then laid upon his back on a kind of stand, elevated a few feet from
the floor. They began by putting an iron collar round his neck, and
a ring to each foot, which fastened him to the stand. His limbs being
thus stretched out, they wound two ropes round each arm, and two
round each thigh ; which ropes being passed under the scaffold,
through holes made for that purpose, were all drawn tight at the same
instant of time, by four of the men, on a given signal. The pains
which immediately succeeded v/ere intolerable ; the ropes, which
were of a small size, cut through the prisoner's flesh to the bone, mak-
ing the blood gush out at eight different places. As he persisted in
not making any confession of what the inquisitors required, the ropes
were drawn in this manner four times successively.
A physician and surgeon attended, and often felt his temples, in
order to judge of the danger he might be in ; by which means his
tortures were for a small time suspended, that he might have sufficient
opportunity of recovering his spirits to sustain each ensuing torture.
During this extremity of anguish, while the tender frame is being
torn, as it were, in pieces, while at every pore it feels the sharpest
pangs of death, and the agonized soul is just ready to burst forth, and
quit its wretched mansion, the ministers of the inquisition have the
obduracy to look on without em.otion, and calmly to advise the poor
distracted creature to confess his imputed guilt, on doing M'hich, they
tell him, he may obtain a free pardon, and receive absolution. All
this, however, was ineffectual with the prisoner, whose mind was
strengthened by a sweet consciousness of innocence, and the divinfi
consolation of religion.
While he was thus suffering, the physician and surgeon were so bar-
barous as to declare, that if he died under the torture, he would be
guilty, by his obstinacy, of self-murder. In short, at the last time of
the ropes being drawn tight, he grew so exceedingly weak, by the
stoppage of the circulation of his blood, and the pains he endured,
that he fainted away ; upon which he was unloosed, and carried back
to his dungeon.
Second time of torturing.
These inhuman wretches, finding that the torture inflicted, as above
described, instead of extorting a discovery from the prisoner, only
served the more fervently to excite his supplication to Heaven for pa-
tience and power to persevere in truth and integrity, were so barba-
rous, in six weeks after, as to expose him to anotlier kind of torture,
more severe, if possible, than the former ; the manner of inflicting
which was as follows : they forced his arms backwards, so that the
palms of his hands were turned outward behind him ; w^hen, by means
of a rope that fastened them together at the wrists, and which was
turned by an engine, they drew them by degrees nearer each other,
in such a manner that the back of each "hand touched and stood ex
actly parallel to the other. In consequence of this violent contor
THE INaUISITION. 1 1 1
tion, both his shoulders were dislocated, and a considerable quantity
of blood issued from his mouth. This torture was repeated thrice ;
after which he was again taken to the dungeon, and delivered to the
physician and surgeon, who, in setting the dislocated bones, put him
to the most exquisite torment.
Third time of torturing.
About two months after the second torture, the prisoner, being a
little recovered, was again ordered to the torture room, and there
made to undergo another kind of punishment. The executioners fas-
tened a thick iron chain twice round his body, which, crossing upon
his stomach, terminated at the wrists. They then placed him with
his back against a thick board, at each extremity whereof was a pul-
ley, through which there run a rope that caught the ends of the chain at
his wrists. Then the executioner, stretching the end of this rope, by
means of a roller placed at a distance behind him, pressed or bruised
his stomach in proportion as the ends of the chain were drawn tighter.
They tortured him in this manner to such a degree, that his wrists, as
well as his shoulders, Avere quite dislocated. They were, however,
soon set by the surgeons ; but the barbarians, not yet satisfied with
this infernal cruelty, made him immediately undergo the like torture
a second time ; which he sustained (though, if possible, attended with
keener pains) with equal constancy and resolution. He was then
again remanded to his dungeon, attended by the surgeon to dress his
bruises, and adjust the parts dislocated ; and here he continued till
their auto da fe, or gaol delivery, when he was happily discharged.
It may be judged, from the before-mentioned relation, what dreadful
agony the sufferer must have endured. Most of his limbs were dis-
jointed ; so much was he bruised and exhausted, as to be unable, for
some weeks, to lift his hand to his mouth ; and his body became
greatly swelled from the inflamm.ations caused by such frequent dis-
locations. After his discharge he felt the effects of this cruelty for
the remainder of his life, being frequently seized with thrilling and
excruciating pains, to which he had never been subject till after he
had the misfortune to fall into the power of the merciless and bloody
inquisition.
The unhappy females who fall into their hands, have not the least
favour shown them on account of the softness of their sex, but are
tortured with as much severity as the male prisoners, with the addi-
tional mortification of having the most shocking indecencies added to
the most savage barbarities.
Should the above-mentioned modes of torturing force a confession
from the prisoner, he is remanded to his horrid dungeon, and left a
prey to the melancholy of his situation, to the anguish arising from
what he has suffered, and to the dreadful ideas of future barbarities.
Should he refuse to confess, he is, in the same manner, remanded to
his dungeon ; but a stratagem is used to draw from him what the tor-
ture fails to do. A companion is allowed to attend him, under the
pretence of waiting upon, and comforting his mind till his wounds are
healed : this person, who is always selected for his cunning, insinu-
ates himself into the good graces of the prisoner, laments the anguish
he feels, sympathizes with him, and, taking advantage of the hasty ex-
pressions forced from him by pain, does all he can to dive into his se-
J 12 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
ci ets. This companion sometimes pretends to be a prisoner like hin
self, and imprisoned on similar charges. This is to draw the unhapp/
person into a mutual confidence, and persuade him, in unbosoming
his grief, to betray his private sentiments.
Frequently these snares succeed, as they are the more alluring by
being glossed over with the appearance of friendship and sympathy.
Finally, if the prisoner cannot be found guilty, he is either tortured or
harras'sed to death, though a few have sometimes had the good for-
tune to be discharged, but not without having suffered the most dread-
ful cruelties.
The inquisition also takes cognizance of all new books ; and tolerates
or condemns with the same justice and impartiality by which all its
proceedings are distinguished.
When a book is published, it is carefully read by some of the fami-
liars ; who, too ignorant and bigoted to distinguish truth, and too ma-
licious to relish beauties, search not for the merits, but for the defects
of an author, and pursue the slips of his pen with unremitting dili-
gence. They read with prejudice, judge with partiality, pursue errors
with avidity and strain that which is innocent into an offensive mean
ing. They misapply, confound, and pervert the sense ; and when
they have gratified the malignity of their disposition, charge theii
blunders upon the author, that a prosecution may be founded upon
their false conceptions, and designed misrepresentations.
Any trivial charge causes the censure of a book ; but it is to be ob-
served, that the censure is of a threefold nature, viz.
1. When the book is wholly condemned.
2. When it is partly condemned ; that is, when certain passages are
pointed out as exceptionable, and ordered to be expunged.
3. When it is deemed incorrect ; the. meaning of which is, that a
few words or expressions displease the inquisitors. These, therefore,
are ordered to be altered, and such alterations go under the name of
corrections.
There is a catalogue of condemned books annually published under
the three different heads of censures, already mentioned, which being
printed on a large sheet of paper, is hung up in the most public and
conspicuous places. After which, people are obliged to destroy all
such books as come under the first censure, and to keep none belong-
ing to the other two censures, unless the exceptionable passages have
been expunged, and the corrections made, as in either case disobedi-
ence Avould be of the most fatal consequence ; for the possessing or
rgading the proscribed books are deemed very atrocious crimes.
The publisher of such books is usually ruined in his circumstances,
and sometimes obliged to pass the remainder of his life in the inqui-
sition.
Where such an absurd and detestable system exercises its deaden-
ing influence over the literature of a nation, can we be surprised that
the grossest ignorance and the most bigoted superstition prevail ? How
can that people become enlightened, among whom the finest produc-
tions of genius are prohibited, all discussion prevented, the most inno-
cent inquiries liable to misconstruction and punishment, the materials
for thinking proscribed, and even thought itself chained down, and
checked by the fear of its escaping into expression, and thus bringing
certain and cruel pimishment on him who has dared to exercise his
Cruelties of the Inquisition. Page 110.
Tortures of the Inquisition. Page 111.
Tortures of tlie Inquisition. Page 110,,
THE INaUlSITION. II3
reason, tlie noblest gift of his Almighty Creator. Surely every well
wisher to the human race, must rejoice in the downfall of this moat
oarbarous and infernal of all tribunals.
SECTION II.
BARBARITIES EXERCISED BY THE INQUISITIONS OF SPAIN AND POR-
TUGAL.
Francis Romanes, a native of Spain, was employed by the mer-
chants of Antwerp, to transact some business for them at Bremen. He
had been educated in the Romish persuasion, but going one day into
a protestant church, he was struck with the truths which he heard, and
begmning to perceive the errors of popery, he determined to search
iarther mto the matter. Perusing the sacred scriptures, and the wri-
tmgs of some protestant divines, he perceived how erroneous were the
principles which he had formerly embraced ; and renounced the impo-
sitions of popery for the doctrines of the reformed church, in which
religion appeared in all its purity. Resolving to think only of his eter-
nal salvation, he studied religious truths more than trade, and pur-
chased books rather than merchandise, convinced that the riches of
the body are trifling to those of the soul. He therefore resigned his
agency to the merchants of Antwerp, giving them an account at the
same time of his conversion ; and then resolving, if possible, to con-
vert his parents, he went to Spain for that purpose. But the Antwerp
merchants writing to the inquisitors, he was seized upon, imprisoned
for some time, and then condemned to be burnt as a heretic. He
was led to the place of execution in a garment painted over with devils
and had a paper mitre put upon his head by way of derison. As
he passed by a wooden cross, one of the priests bade him kneel to if
but he absolutely refused so to do, saying, " It is not for Christians to
worship wood." Having been placed upon a pile of wood, the fire
quickly reached him, whereupon he lifted up his head suddenly • the
priests thinking he meant to recant, ordered him to be taken down
Finding, however, l!.at they were mistaken, and that he still retained
his constancy, he was placed again upon the pile, where, as long as he
had life and voice remaining, he kept repeating the seventh psalm.
Horrid Treachery of an Inquisitor.
-, A,1^^J' ^vithher two daughters and her niece, were apprehended at
Seville for professing the protestant religion. They were all put to
the torture ; and when that was over, one of the inquisitors sent for the
voungest daughter, pretended to sympathise with her, and pity her
suff-erings ; then binding himself with a solemn oath not to betray her
he said, '' If you will disclose all to me, I promise vou I will procure
the discharge of your mother, sister, cousin, and 'yourself." Made
confident by his oath, and entrapped by his promises, she revealed the
whole of the tenets they professed ; when the perjured wretch, instead
of acting as he had sworn, immediately ordered her to be put to the
rack, saying, ''Now you have revealed so much, I will make you re-
veal more. Refusing, however, to say any thing farther, they were
J j^ BOOK OF MARTYRS.
all ordered to be burnt, which sentence was executed at the next
Aulo da Fe.
The keeper of the castle of Triano, belonging to the inquisitors of
Seville, happened to be of a disposition more mild and humane than
is usual with ])ersons in his situation. He gave all the indulgence he
could to the prisoners, and showed them every favour in his power,
with as much secrecy as possible. At length, however, the inquisitors
became acquainted with his kindness, and determined to punish him
severely for it, that other gaolers might be deterred from showing the
least traces of that compassion which ought to glow in the breast of
every human being. With this view they immediately threw him into
a dismal dungeon, and used him with dreadful barbarity, so that he lost
his senses. His deplorable situation, however, procured him no fa-
vour ; for, frantic as he was, they brought him from prison, at an Auto
da Fe, to the usual place of punishment, with a sanbenito (or garment
worn by criminals) on, and a rope about his neck. His sentence was
then read, and ran thus: that he should be placed upon an ass, led
through the city, receive 200 stripes, and then be condemned for six
years to the galleys. This unhappy, frantic wretch, just as they were
about to begin his punishment, suddenly sprang from the back of the
ass, broke the cords that bound him, snatched a sword from one of
the guards, and dangerously wounded an officer of the inquisition.
Being overpowered by multitudes, he was prevented from doing fur-
ther mischief, seized, bound more securely on the ass, and punished
according to his sentence. But so inexorable were the inquisitors,
that for the rash effects of his madness, four years were added to his
slavery in the galleys.
A young lady, named Maria de Coccicao, who resided with her
brother at Lisbon, was taken up by the inquisitors, and ordered to be
put to the rack. The torments she felt made her confess the charges
against her. The cords were then slackened, and she was re-con-
ducted to her cell, where she remained till she had recovered the use
of her limbs ; she was then brought again before the tribunal, and order-
ed to ratify her confession. This she absolutely refused to do, telling
them, that what she had said was forced from her by the excessive
pain she underwent. The inquisitors, incensed at this reply, ordered
her again to be put to the rack, when the weakness of nature once
more prevailed, and she repeated her former confession. She was
immediately remanded to her cell: and being a third time brought be-
fore the inquisitors, they ordered her to sign her first and second con-
fessions. She answered as before, but added, " I have twice given
way to the frailty of the flesh, and perhaps may, while on the rack,
be weak enough to do so again ; but depend upon it, if you torture me
an hundred times, as soon as I am released from the rack I shall deny
what v/as extorted from me by pain." The inquisitors then ordered
her to be racked a third time; and during this last trial, she bore the
torments with the utmost fortitude, and could not be persuaded to an-
swer any of the questions put to her. As her courage and constancy
increased, the inquisitors, instead of putting her to death, condemned
her to a severe whipping through the public streets, and banishment
for ten years.
A lady of a aoble family in Seville, named Jane Bohorquia, was ap-
prehended on the information of her sister, who had been tortured
THE INaUISlTlON. 115
and burnt for professing the protestant religion. Being pregnant, they
let her remain tolerably quiet till she was delivered, when they imme-
diately took away the child, and put it to nurse, that it might be brought
up a Roman Catholic. Soon afterwards this unfortunate lady was or-
dered to be racked, which was done with such severity, that she ex-
pired a week after of the wounds and bruises. Upon this occasion,
the inquisitors affected some remorse, and in one of the printed acts of
the inquisition, which they always publish at an Auto da Fe, this young
lady is thus mentioned : " Jane Bohorquia was found dead in prison ;
after which, upon reviving the prosecution, the inquisitors discovered
she was innocent. Be it therefore known, that no further prosecu-
tions shall be carried on against her •, and that her effects, which were
confiscated, shall be given to the heirs tt, law." One sentence in the
above ridiculous passage, wants explanamn, viz. that no further pro-
secutions shall be carried on against her. This alludes to the absurd
custom of prosecuting and burning the bones of the dead : for when a
prisoner dies in the inquisition, the process continues the same as if
he was living ; the bones are deposited in a chest, and if sentence of
guilt is passed, they are brought out at the next Auto da Fe ; the sen-,
tence is read against them with as much solemnity as against a living
prisoner, and they are committed to the flames. In a similar manner
are prosecutions carried on against prisoners who escape ; and when
their persons are far beyond the reach of the inquisitors, they are
burnt in effigy.
Isaac Orobio, a learned physician, having beaten a Moorish servant
for stealing, was accused by him of professing Judaism, and the in-
quisitors seized him upon the charge. He was kept three years in
prison before he had the least information of Avhat he was to undergo,
and then suffered the following six modes of torture : — 1. A coarse
linen coat was put upon him, and then drawn so tight that the circu-
lation of the blood was nearly stopped, and the breath almost pressed
out of his body. After this the strings were suddenly loosened, when
the air forcing its way hastily into his stomach, and the blood rushing
into its channels, he suffered the most incredible pain. 2. His thumbs
were tied with small cords so hard that the blood gushed from under
the nails. 3. He was seated on a bench with his back against a wall,
wherein small iron pulleys were fixed. Ropes being fastened to se-
veral parts of his body and limbs, were passed through the pulleys, and
being suddenly drawn with great violence, his whole frame was forced
into a distorted mass. 4. After having suffered for a considerable
time the pains of the last mentioned position, the seat was snatched
away, and he was left suspended against the wall. 5. A little instru-
ment with five knobs, and which went with springs, being placed near
his face, he suddenly received five blows on the cheek, which put him
to such pain as caused him to faint. 6. The executioners fastened
ropes round his wrists, and then drew them about his body. Placing
him on his back with his feet against the wall, they pulled with the
utmost violence, till the cord had penetrated to the bone. He suf-
fered the last torture three times, and then lay seventy days before
his wounds were healed. He was afterwards banished, and in his
exile wrote the account of his sufferings, from which the foregoing
particulars are chiefly extracted.
llg BOOK OF MARTYRS.
SECTION III.
TRIAL AND SUFFERINGS OF MR. ISAAC MARTIN.
In the year 1714, about Lent, Mr. Martin arrived at Malaga, with
his wife and four children. On the examination of his baggage, his
Bible, and some other books, were seized. He was accused in about
three months time of being a Jew, for these curious reasons, that his
own name was Isaac, and one of his sons w^as named Abraham.
The accusation was laid in the bishop's court, and he informed the
English consul of it, who said it was nothing but the malice of some
of the Irish papists, whom he advised him always to shun. The cler-
gy sent to Mr. Martin's neighbours, to know their opinion concerning
him : the result of which inquiry was this, " We believe him noi to
be a Jew, but a heretic." After this, being continually pestered by
priests, particularly those of the Irish nation, to change his religion,
he determined to dispose of what he had, and retire from Malaga.
But when his resolution became known, at about nine o'clock at night
he heard a knocking at his door. He demanded who was there.
The persons without said they wanted to enter. He desired they
would come again the next morning ; but they replied, if he would
not open the door they would break it open ; which they did. Then
about fifteen persons entered, consisting of a commissioner, with se-
veral priests and familiars belonging to the inquisition. Mr. Martin
would fain have gone to the English consul ; but they told him the
consul had nothing to do in the matter, and then said, " Where are
your beads and fire arms ?" To which he answered, " I am an Eng-
lish protestant, and as such carry no private arms, nor make use of
beads." They took away his watch, money, and other things, car-
ried him to the bishop's prison, and put on him a pair of heavy fet-
ters. His distressed family was at the same time turned out of doors,
till the house was stripped ; and when they had taken every thing
away, they returned the key to his wife.
About four days after his commitment, Mr. Martin Avas told he
must be sent to Grenada to be tried ; he earnestly begged to see his
wife and children before he went, but this was denied. Being doubly
fettered, he was mounted on a mule, and set out towards Grenada.
By the way, the mule threw him upon a rocky part of the road, and
almost broke his back.
On his arrival at Grenada, after a journey of three days, he was
detained at an inn till it was dark, for they never put any one into
the inquisition during day-light. At night he was taken to the pri-
son, and led along a range of galleries till he arrived at a dungeon.
The gaoler nailed up a box of books, belonging to him, which had
oeen brought from Malaga, saying, they must remain in that stale till
the lords of the inquisition chose to inspect them, for prisoners were
not allowed to read books. He also took an inventory of every thing
which Mr. Martin had about him, even to his very buttons ; and having
asked him a great number of frivolous questions, he at length gave
him tliese orders : " You must observe as great silence here, as if
you v/cre dead ; you must not speak, nor whistle, nor sing, nor make
THE INaUISITION. 117
any noise that can be heard ; and if you hear any body cry or make
a noise, you must be still, and say nothing, upon pain of 200 lashes."
Mr. Martin asked if he might have liberty to walk about the room ;
the gaoler replied that he might, but it must be very softly. After
giving him some wine, bread, and a few wall nuts, the gaoler left him
till ihe morning. — It was frosty weather, the walls of the dungeon
were between two and three feet thick, the floor was bricked, and a
great deal of wind came through a hole of about a foot in length, and
five inches in breadth, which served as a window. The next morning
the gaoler came to light his lamp, and bade him light a fire in order to
dress his dinner. He then took him to a turn, or such a wheel as is
found at the doors of convents, where a person on the other side turns
the provisions round. He had then given him half a pound of mut-
ton, two pounds of bread, some kidney beans, a bunch of raisins, and
a pint of wine, which was the allowance for three days. He had
likewise two pounds of charcoal, an earthen stove, and a (eyv other
articles.
In about a week he was ordered to an audience ; he followed the
gaoler, and coming to a large room, saw a man sitting between two
crucifixes ; and another with a pen in his hand, who was, as he after-
wards learned, the secretary. The chief lord inquisitor was the per-
son between the two crucifixes ; and appeared to be about sixty years
of age. He ordered Mr. M. to sit down upon a little stool that front-
ed him. A frivolous examination then took place; the questions re-
lated to his family, their religion, &c. and his own tenets of faith. The
prisoner admitted that he was a protestant, told the inquisitor that the
religion of Christ admitted of no persecution, and concluded with say-
ing that he hoped to remain in that religion. He underwent five ex-
aminations, without any thing serious being alleged against him.
In a few days after, he was called to his sixth audience, when after
a [ew immaterial interrogatories, the inquisitor told him the charges
against him should be read, and that he must give an immediate and
prompt answer to each respective charge.
The accusations against him were then read ; they amounted to
twenty-six, but were principally of the most trivial nature, and the
greater number wholly false, or, if founded on facts, so distorted and
perverted by the malice of his accusers, as to bear little resemblance
to the real occurrences to which they related. Mr. Martin answered
the whole of them firmly and discreetly, exposing their weakness,
and detecting their falsehood.
He Mas then remanded to his dungeon ; was shaved on Whitsun-
eve, (shaving being allowed only three times in the year ;) and the
next day one of tlie gaolers gave him some frankincense to be put
into the fire, as he was to receive a visit from the lords of the inqui-
sition. Two of them accordingly came, asked many trivial questions,
concluding them, as usual, with " We Avill do you all the service we
can." Mr. Martin complained greatly of their having promised him
a lawyer to plead his cause ; " when instead of a proper person,"
said he, " there \yas a person whom you called a lawyer, but he
never spoke to me, nor I to him : if all your lawyers are so quiet in
this country, they are the quietest in the world, for he hardly said any
thing but yes and no, to what your lordship said." To which one of
the inquisitors gravely replied, " Lav.yers are not allowed to speak
118
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
here." At this the gaoler and secretary went out of the dungeon to
laugh, and Mr. Martin could scarce refrain from smiling in their faces,
to think that his cause was to be defended by a man who scarce
dared to open his lips. Some time after he was ordered to dress
himself very clean : as soon as he was ready, one of the gaolers
came and told him, that he must go with him ; but that first he must
have a handkerchief tied about his eyes. He now expected the
torture ; but, after another examination, was remanded to his dun-
geon.
About a month afterwards, he had a rope put round his neck, and
was led by it to the altar of the great church. Here his sentence
was pronounced, which was, that for the crimes of which he siood
convicted, the lords of the holy office had ordered him to be banished
out of the dominions of Spain, upon the penalty of 200 lashes, and
being sent five years to the galleys ; and that he should at present
receive 200 lashes through the streets of the city of Grenada.
Mr. Martin was sent again to his dungeon that night, and the next
morning the executioner came, stripped him, tied his hands together,
put a rope about his neck, and led hhn out of the prison. He was
then mounted on an ass, and received his 200 lashes, amidst the
shouts and peltings of the people. He remained a fortnight after this
in gaol, and at length was sent to Malaga. Here he was put in gaol
for some days, till he could be sent on board an English ship: which
had no sooner happened, than news was brought of a rupture between
England and Spain, and that ship, with many others, was stopped.
Mr. Martin, not being considered as a prisoner of war, was put on
board of a Hamburgh trader, and his wife and children soon came to
him ; but he was obliged to put up with the loss of his effects, which
had been embezzled by the inquisition.
His case was published by the desire of Secretary Craggs, the
archbishops of Canterbury and York, the bishops of London, Win-
chester, Ely, Norwich, Sarum, Chichester, St. Asaph, Lincoln, Bris-
tol, Peterborough, Bangor, &c.
SECTION IV.
AN ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND SUFFERINGS OF MR. WILLIAM LITHGOW,
A NATIVE OF SCOTLAND.
William Lithgow was descended from a good family, and having a
natural propensity to travelling, he rambled, when very young, over
the Northern and Western Islands ; after which he visited France,
Germany, Switzerland, and Spain. He set out on his travels in March,
1609, and went to Paris, where he stayed for some time. He then
prosecuted his travels through Germany and other parts, and at length
arrived at Malaga, in Spain.
While he resided here, he contracted with the master of a French
ship for his passage to Alexandria, but was prevented from going by
the following circumstances : on the evening of the 17th of October,
1620, the English fleet, at that time on a cruise against the Algerine
rovers, came to anchor before Malaga, which threw the people of the
WILLIAM LITHGOW 119
town into the greatest cons*ernation, as they imagined them to be
Turks. The morning, however, discovered the mistake ; and the
governor of Malaga perceiving that they bore the EngHsh flag, went
on board the admiral's ship, and on his return, banished the fears of
the people.
Many persons from on board the fleet came ashore the next day.
Among these were several friends of Mr. Lithgow, who invited him
on board, which invitation he accepted, and was kindly received by
the admiral. The fleet sailing for Algiers the next day, he returned
on shore, and proceeded towards his lodgings by a private way (being
to embark the same night for Alexandi-ia,) when, in passing through
a narrow uninhabited street, he found himself suddenly surrounded
by nine sergeants, or officers, who threw a black cloak over him, and
forcibly conducted him to the governor's house. After some little
time the governor appeared, when Mr. Lithgow earnestly begged he
might be informed of the cause of such violent treatment. The go-
vernor only shook his head, and gave orders that the prisoner should
be strictly watched till he returned from his devotions ; directing, at
the same time, that the captain of the town, the alcaid major, and town
notary, should be summoned to appear at his examination, and that all
this should be done with the greatest secrecy, to prevent its reaching
the ears of the English merchants who resided in the town.
These orders were strictly fulfilled ; and on the governor's return,
Mr. Lithgow was brought before him for examination. The governor
began by asking several questions, as to what co^imtry he was native
of, whither he was going, how long he had been in Spain, &.c. The
prisoner, after answering these questions, v/as conducted to a closet,
where he was again examined by the town-captain, who inquired
whether he had lately come from Seville : and, pretending great
friendship, conjured him to tell the truth ; finding himself, however,
unable to extort any thing from Mr. Lithgow, he left him.
The governor then proceeded to enquire the quality of the English
commander, and the prisoner's opinion of the motives that prevented
his accepting an invitation from him to come on shore. He demand-
ed, likewise, the names of the English captains in the squadron, and
what knowledge he had of the embarkation, or preparation for it be-
fore its departure from England. His answers were set down in wri-
ting by the notary ; but the junto, particularly the governor, seemed
surprised at his denying any knowledge of the fitting out of the fleet,
and declared that he was a traitor and a spy, and came directly from
England to favour and assist in the designs of that country against
Spain ; and that he had been for that purpose nine months in Seville,
in order to procure intelligence of the time the Spanish navy was ex-
pected from the Indies. They exclaimed against his familiarity with
the officers of the fleet, and many other English gentlemen, between
whom, they said, unusual civilities had passed, but all these transac-
tions had been noticed with pecidiar attention. In short, they said,
he came from a council of war held that morning on board the admi-
ral's ship, in order to put in execution the orders assigned him. They
upbraided him with being accessary to the burning of the island of
St. Thomas in the West Indies , " Wherefore," said they, " these
Lutherans, and sons of the devil, ought to have no credit given to what
they say or swear."
J2Q BOOK OP MARTYRS.
Mr. Litho-ow in vain endeavoured to obviate every accusation laia
against hiin", and, in order to prove his innocence, begged that ? s
papers might be examined ; this request was complied with ; but
although they consisted of passports and letters of recommendation
from persons of quality, the prejudiced judges refused all belief to
them, and their suspicions appeared to be confirmed rather than weak-
ened by the perusal. A consultation was then held as to where the
prisoner should be confined. The alcaid, or cliief judge, was for put-
ting him in the town prison; but this was objected to particularly by the
cor'i-egidore, who said, "In order to prevent the knowledge of his con-
finement from reaching his countrymen, I will take the matter on my-
self, and be answerable for the consequences ;" upon which it was
agreed, that he should be confined in the governor's house, and the
greatest secrecy observed.
He was then stripped, searched, and robbed of a large sum which
he had about him, by a sergeant, and confined in an apartment of the
governor's house. At midnight the sergeant and two Turkish slaves
released him from his confinement, but it was to introduce him to one
much more horrible. They conducted him through several passages
to a chamber in a remote part of the palace, towards the garden,
where they loaded him with irons, and extended his legs by means of
an iron bar above a yard long, the weight of which was so great that
he could neither stand nor sit, but v/as obliged to lie down continually
on his back. They left him in this condition for some time, when
they returned, bringing him a pound of boiled mutton and a loaf,
with a small quantity of wine ; after delivering which they again left
him.
He received a visit from the governor the next day, who promised
him tiis liberty, with many other advantages if he would confess being
a spy ; but on his protesting that he was entirely innocent, the go-
vernor left him in a rage, saying, he should see him no more till further
torments constrained him to confess ; commanding the keeper, to
whose care he was committed, not to allow his sustenance to exceed
three ounces of musty bread, and a pint of water every second day ;
and that he should be allowed neither bed, pillow, nor coverlet.
" Close up," said he, " this window in his room with lime and stone ;
stop up the holes of the door with double mats ; let him have nothing
that bears any likeness to comfort." The unfortunate Lithgow con-
tinued in this melancholy state, without seeing any person, for several
days, in which time the governor received an answer to a letter be
had written, relative to the prisoner, from Madrid ; and pursuant to
the instructions given him, began to put in practice the cruelties de-
vised, which they hastened, because Christmas approached, it being
then the 47th day since his confinement.
About three o'clock in the morning, he heard the noise of a coach
in the street, and some time after heard the opening of the prison
doors, not having had any sleep for two nights. Immediately after
the prison doors were opened, the nine sergeants, who had at first seized
him, with the notary, entered the place where he lay, and without ut-
tering a word conducted him in his irons into the street, where a
Goach waited, in which they laid him at the bottom on his back, being
unable to sit. Two of the sergeants rode with him, and the rest walk-
ed by the coach side, but all observed the most profound silence
WILLIAM LITHGOW 21
They drove him to a vine-press house, about a league iroin the towJi,
to which place a rack had been privately conveyed before ; and here
they shut him up for that night.
About day-break the next morning, the governor and the alcaid ar-
rived, into whose presence Mr. Lithgow Avas immediately brought, to
undergo another examination. The prisoner desired he might have
an interpreter, but was refused ; nor would they permit him to appeal
to the superior court of judicature, at Madrid. After a long examina-
tion, which lasted the whole day, there appeared in all his answers so
f,xact a conformity with Avhat he had before said, that they declared
he had learned them by heart. They, however, pressed him again to
make a full discovery ; that is, to accuse himself of crimes never ■
committed ; the governor adding, " You are still in my power ; I can
set you free if you comply: if not, I must deliver you to the alcaid."
Mr. Lithgow still persisting in his innocence, the governor ordered
him to be tortured immediately.
He was then conducted to the end of a stone gallery, where the
rack was placed. The executioner immediately struck oft' his irons,
which put him to very great pain, the bolts being so closely rivetted
that the sledge hammer tore away about half an inch of his heel in
forcing oft" the bolt ; the anguish of which, together with his weak
condition (not having had the least sustenance for three days) occa-
sioned him to groan bitterly ; upon which the merciless alcaid said,
" Villain ! traitor ! This is but the beginning of what you shall en-
dure."
As soon as his irons were off", he fell on his knees, uttering a short
prayer, that God would be pleased to enable him to be steadfast, and
undergo courageously the trial he had to encounter ; he was then
stripped naked and fixed upon the rack.
It is impossible to describe the various tortures inflicted upon him.
He lay on the rack for above five hours, during which time he recei-
ved above sixty difl>rent tortures of the most infernal nature ; and
had they continued them longer, he must have expired.
On being taken from the rack, and his irons again put on, he was
conducted to his former dungeon, having received no other nourish-
ment than a little warm wine, which was given him rather to reserve
him for future punishments, than from any principle of pity.
In this horrid situation he continued, almost starved, till Christmas-
day, when he received some relief from Marianne, waiting-woman to
the governor's lady. This woman having obtained leave to visit him,
carried Avith her some refreshments, consisting of honey, sugar,
raisins, and other articles.
Mr. Lithgow was kept in this loathsome dungeon till he was almost
devoured Avith vermin. They craAvled about his beard, lips, eye-
broAvs, (fee. so that he could scarce open his eyes ; and his distress
was increased by not having the use of his hands or legs to defend
himself.
Mr. LithgoAv at length received information Avhich gave little hopes
of being released. The substance of this information Avas, that an
English seminary priest, and a Scotch cooper, had been for some time
employed by the governor to translate from the English into the
Spanish language, all his books and obserA-^ations ; and that it Avas
commonly said in the governor's house, that he Avas an arch and dan
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
fferous heretic. About two days after he had received the above in-
formation, the governor, an inquisitor, and a canonical priest, accom-
panied by two Jesuits, entered his dungeon, and, after several idle
questions, the inquisitor asked Mr. Lithgow if he was a Roman Catho-
lic, and acknowledged the pope's suj'remacy ? He answered, that
he neither was the one, nor did the other. In the bitterness of his
soul he made use of some warm expressions. " As you have almost
murdered me," said he, *' for pretended treason, so now you intend
to martyr me for my religion."
After some time, the inquisitor addressed Mr. Lithgow in the fol-
lowing words : " You have been taken up as a spy, accused of treache-
ry, and tortured, as we acknowledge, innocently ; (which appears
by the account lately received from Madrid of the intentions of the
English ;) yet it was the divine power that brought those judgments
upon you, for presumptuously treating the blessed miracle of Loretto
with ridicule, and expressing yourself in your Avritings irreverently
of his holiness, Christ's vicar upon earth ; therefore you are justly
fallen into our hands by their special appointment : your books and
papers are miraculously translated by the assistance of Providence
hitiuencing your own countrymen."
When this harangue was ended, they gave the prisoner eight days
to consider and resolve whether he would become a convert to their
religion ; during which time the inquisitor told him, he, with othei
religious persons, would attend to give him assistance. One of the
Jesuits said, first making the sign of the cross upon his breast, " My
son, behold, you deserve to be burnt alive ; but by the grace of oui
Lady Loretto, whom you have blasphemed, we will save both your
soul and your body."
The inquisitor, with the three ecclesiastics, returned the next morn-
ing, when the former asked the prisoner what difficulties he had on
his conscience that retarded his conversion ; to whicli he answered,
" He had not any doubts in his mind, being confident in the promises
of Christ, and assuredly believing his revealed Avill signified in the
gospels, as professed in the reformed church, being confirmed by
grace, and having infallible assurance thereby of the true Christian
faith." To these words the inquisitor replied, " Thou art no Chris-
tian, but an absurd heretic, and without conversion, a member of per-
dition." The prisoner they told him, it was not consistent with the
nature of religion and charity, to convince by opprobrious speeches,
racks, and torments, but by arguments deduced from the scriptures ;
and that all other methods would with him be totally fruitless.
So enraged was the inquisitor at the replies made by the prisoner,
that he struck him on the face, used many abusive speeches, and at-
tempted to stab him, Avhich he had certainly done had he not been pre-
vented by tlie Jesuits : and from this time he never visited the prison-
er again. The two Jesuits returned the next day, and the superior
asked him, what resolution he had taken. To which Mr. Lithgow
replied, that he was already resolved, unless he could show substan-
tial reasons to make him alter his opinion. The superior, after a pe-
dantic display of their seven sacraments, the intercession of saints,
transubstantiation, &c. boasted greatly of their church, her antiquity,
universality, and uniformity ; all which Mr. Lithgow denied : " For,"
said he, " the profession of the faith I hold hath been ever since the
WILLIAM LITHGOW. 123
first days of the apostles, and Christ had ever his own church, however
obscure, in the greatest time of your darkness."
The Jesuits finding their arguments had not the desired effect, and
that torments could not shake his constancy, after severe menaces, left
him. On the eighth day after, being the last of their inquisition, when
sentence is pronounced, they returned again, but quite altered, both
in their words and behaviour. After repeating much the same kind
of arguments as before, they, with seeming grief, pretended they were
sorry from their hearts he must be obliged to undergo a terrible death;
but, above all, for the loss of his most precious soul; and falling on their
knees, cried out, " Convert, convert, O dear brother, for our blessed
lady's sake, convert !" To which he answered, " I fear neither death
nor fire, being prepared for both."
Lithgow received a sentence that night of eleven different tortures,
and if he did not die in the execution of them, he was, after Easter ho-
lidays, to be carried to Grenada, and there burnt to ashes. The first
part of the sentence was executed Avith great barbarity that night ; and
it pleased God to give him strength both of body and mind, to adhere
to the truth, and to survive the horrid punishments.
After these cruelties, they again put irons on, and conveyed him to
his dungeon. The next morning he received some little comfort from
a Turkish slave, who secretly brought him in his shirt sleeve some
raisins and figs, which he licked up in the best manner his strength
would permit with his tongue. It was to this slave Mr. Lithgow at-
tributed his surviving so long in such a wretched situation ; for he
found means to convey some of these truits to him twice every week.
It is very extraordinary, and worthy of note, that this poor slave, bred
up from his infancy, according to the maxims of his prophet, in the
greatest detestation of the followers of Christ, should be so affected at
the situation of Mr. Lithgow, while those who called themselves Chris-
tians, not only beheld his sufferings with indifference, but even inflict-
ed the most horrible tortures upon him. During this period, he was at-
tended by a negro slave, who found means to furnish him with refresh-
ments still more amply than the Tm-k, being conversant in the house
and family. She brought him some victuals, and with it some wine
in a bottle, every day.
He now waited with anxious expectation for the day, which, by put-
ting an end to his life, would also end his torments. But his melan-
choly expectations were, by the interposition of Providence, rendered
abortive, and his deliverance obtained, from the following circum-
stances.
A Spanish gentleman of quality came from Grenada to Malaga ;
who, being invited to an entertainment by the governor, he informed
him of what had befallen Mr. Lithgow, from the time of his being ap-
prehended as a spy, and described the vai'ious sufferings he had en-
dured. He likewise told him, that after it was known the prisoner
was innocent, it gave him great concern. That on this account he
would gladly have released him, restored his money and papers, and
made some atonement for the injuries he had received ; but that, upon
an inspection into his writings, several were found of a blasphemoub
nature. That on his refusing to abjure these heretical opinions, he
was turned over to the inquisition, who finally condemned him.
While the governor was relating this tale, a Flemish youth, servant
124 BOOK Oj^^ martyrs.
to the Spanish gentleman, Avho waited at table, was struck with amaze
ment and pity at the description of the sufferings of the stranger. On
his return to his master's lodging he began to revolve in his mind what
he had heard, which made such an impression on him that he could not
rest in his bed ; and when the morning came, without disclosing his
intentions to any person, he went into the town, and inquired for an
English factor. He was directed to the house of one Mr. Wild, to
whom he related the whole of what he had heard the preceding even-
ing, between his master and the governor; but could not tell Mr.
Lithgow's name. Mr. Wild, however, conjectured it was he, by the
servant remembering the circumstance of his being a traveller.
Mr. Wild, therefore, on the departure of the servant, immediately
sent for the other English factors, to whom he related all the particu-
lars relative to their unfortunate countryman. After a short consulta-
tion, it was agreed, that information of the whole affair should be sent
by express to Sir Walter Aston, the English ambassador at Madrid,
This was accordingly done, and the ambassador having presented a
memorial to the king and council of Spain, obtained an order for Mr.
Lithgow's enlargement, and his delivery to the English factory. This
order was directed to the governor of Malaga ; and was received by
the whole assembly of the bloody inquisition with the greatest sur-
prise.
Mr. Lithgow was released from his confinement on the eve of Eas-
ter-Sunday, when he was carried from his dungeon on the back of the
slave that had attended him, lo the house of one Mr. Busbich, where
all comforts were given him. It fortunately happened, that there was
at this time a squadron of English ships in the road, commanded by
Sir Richard Hawkins, who being informed of the past sufferings and
present situation of Mr. Lithgow, came the next day ashore, with a
proper guard, and received him from the merchants. He was instantly
carried in blankets on board the Vanguard, and three days after was
removed to another ship, by direction of the general. Sir Robert
Mansel. The factory presented him with clothes, and all necessary
provisions, besides which they gave him 200 reals in silver ; and- Sir
Richard Hawkins sent him two double pistoles. Sir Richard also de-
manded the delivery of his papers, money, books, &c. before his de-
parture from the Spanish coast, but could not obtain any satisiiictory
answer on that head. By such secondary means does Providence fre-
quently interfere in behalf of the virtuous and oppressed.
Having lain twelve days in the road, the ship weighed anchor, and
in about two months arrived safe atDeptford. The next morning Mr.
Lithgow was carried on a feather bed to Theobalds, in Hertfordshire,
where, at that time, were the king and royal family. Mr. Lithgow
was presented to him, and related the particulars of his sufferings, and
his happy delivery ; which the king was so affected at, that he ex-
pressed the deepest concern, and gave orders that he should be sent
to Bath. By these means, under God, after some time, Mr. Lithgow
was restored, from the most wretched spectacle, to a great share of
health and strength ; but he lost the use of his left arm, several of the
smaller bones being so crushed and broken, as to be rendered ever
after unserviceable.
Notwithstanding every effort, Mr. Lithgow could never obtain any
part of his money or effects, though his majesty, and the ministers, in
MASSACRE IN FRANCE. 125
lerested themselves in his behalf. Gondamore, the Spanish ambassa
dor, indeed promised that all his effects should be restored, with the
addition of 1000/. English money, as some atonement for the tortures
he had undergone, which last was to be paid him by the governor of
Malaga. These engagements, however, were never kept ; and though
the king was a kind of guarantee for the performance of them, the cun-
ning Spaniard found means to elude the order.
BOOK VI.
BRIEF RELATION OF THE HORRIBLE MASSACRE IN FRANCE, A. D. 1572.
After a long series of troubles in France, the papists seeing no-
thing could be done against the protestants by open force, began to de-
vise how they should entrap them by subtlety, and that by two ways;
first, by pretending that an army was to be sent into the lower coun-
try, under the command of the admiral, prince of Navarre and Conde ;
not that the king had any intention of so doing, but only with a view
to ascertain what force the admiral had under him, who they were,
and what Avere their names. The second was, a marriage suborned
between the prince of Navarre and the sister of the king of France ;
to which were to be invited all the chief protestants. Accordingly,
they first began with the queen of Navarre ; she consented to come
to Paris, where she was at length won over to the king's mind. Short-
ly after, she fell sick, and died within five days, not without suspicion
of poison ; but her body being opened, no sign thereof appeared. A
certain apothecary, however, made his boast, that he had killed the
queen with venomous odours and smells, prepared by himself.
Notwithstanding this, the marriage still proceeded. The admiral,
prince of Navarre and Conde, with divers other chief states of the
protestants, induced by the king's letters and many fair promises, came
to Paris, and were received with great solemnity. The marriage at
length took place on the 18th of August, 1572, and was solemnized
by the cardinal of Bourbon, upon a high stage set up on purpose
without the church walls : the prince of Navarre and Conde came
down, waiting for the king's sister, who was then at mass. This done,
the company all went to the bishop's palace to dinner. In the even-
ing they were condiicted to the king's palace to supper. Four days
after this, the admiral, coming from the council table, on his way was
shot at with a pistol, charged with three bullets, and wounded in both
his arms. Notwithstanding which, he still remained in Paris, although
the Vidam advised him to flee.
Soldiers were appointed in various parts of the city to be ready at a
watch-word, upon which they rushed out to the slaughter of the pro-
testants, beginning with the admiral, who being dreadfully wounded,
was cast out of the window into the street, Avhere his head being
struck off, was embalmed with spices to be sent to the pope. The sa-
vage people then cut off his arms and privy members, and drew him
in that state through the streets of Paris, after which, they took him
^OQ BOOK OF MARTYRS.
to the place of execution, out of the city, and there hanged him upby
the heels, exposing his mutilated body to the scorn of the populace.
The martyrdom of this virtuous man had no sooner taken place
than the armed soldiers ran about slaying all the protestan'.s they
could find within the city. This continued many days, but the great-
est slaughter was in the three first days, in which were said to be
murdered 10,000 men and women, old and young, of all sorts and con-
ditions. The bodies of the dead were carried in carts and thrown
into the river, which was all stained therewith; also whole streams in
various parts of the city ran with the blood of the slain. In the num-
ber that were slain of the more learned sort, were Petrus Ramus,
Lambinus, Plateanus, Lomenius, Chapesius, and others.
These brutal deeds Avere not confined within the walls of Paris, but
extended into other cities and quarters of the realm, especially to Ly-
ons, Orleans, Toulouse, and Rouen, where the cruelties Avere unpa-
ralleled. Within the space of one month, thirty thousand protestants,
at least, are said to have been slain, as is credibly reported by them
who testify of the matter.
When intelligence of the massacre was received at Rome, the great-
est rejoicings were made. The pope and cardinals went in solemn
procession To the church of St. Mark, to give thanks to God. A jubi-
lee was also published, and the ordnance fired from the castle of St.
Angelo. To the person who brought the news, the cardinal of Lor-
raine gave 1000 crowns. Like rejoicings were also made all over
France for this imagined overthrow of the faithful.
The following are among the particulars recorded of the above enor-
mities :
The admiral, on being wounded in both his arms, said to Maure,
preacher to the queen of Navarre, " O my brother, I now perceive
that I am beloved of m.y God, seeing that for his most holy name's
sake I do suffer these wounds." He was slain by Bemjus, who after-
wards reported that he never saw man so constantly and confidently
suffer death.
Many honourable men, and great personages, were, at the same
time, murdered, namely. Count Rochefoucalt, TeKnius, the admiral's
son-in-law, Antonius Claromontus, marquis of Ravely, Lewis Bus-
ems, Bandineus, Pleuvialius, Bernius, &c.
Francis Nompar Caumontius, being in bed with his two sons, was
slain with one of them: the other was strangely preserved, and after-
wards came to great dignity. Stephen Cevaleric Prime, chief trea-
surer to the king in Poictiers, a very good man, and careful of the
commonwealth, after he had paid for his life a large sum of money,
was cruelly and perfidiously murdered.
Magdalen Brissonet, an excellent woman, and learned, the widow
of Ivermus, niaster of requests to the king, flying out of the city in poor
apparel, was taken, cruelly murdered, and cast into the river.
Two thousand were murdered in one day ; and the same liberty of
killing and spoiling continued several days after.
At Meldis two hundred were cast into prison, and being brought
out as sheep to the slaughter, were cruelly murdered. There also
were twenty-five women slain.
At Orleans, a thousand men, women, and children were murdered
The citizens of Augustobona, hearing of the massacre at Paris
MASSACRE IN FRANCE. 127
shut the gates of their toAvn that no protestants might escape, and
cast all they suspected into prison, who were afterwards brought
forth and murdered.
At Lyons there were 800 men, women, and children, most misera-
bly and cruelly murdered. Three hundred were slain in the arch-
bishop's house. The monks would not sutler their bodies to be
buried.
At Toulouse 200 were murdered.
At Rouen 500 were put to death ; and as Thuanus writes, " This
e:«ample passed unto other cities, and from cities to towns and villa-
ges, so that it is by many published, that in all the kingdoms above
30,000 were in these tumults divers ways destroyed."
A little before this massacre, a man, nurse, and infant carried to
be baptized, Avere all three murdered.
Bricamotius, a man of seventy years, and Cavagnius, were laid
upon hurdles and drawn to execution ; and after being in the way re-
viled and defiled with dirt cast upon them, they were hanged. The
first might have been pardoned, if he would publicly confess that the
admiral had conspired against the.king, which he refused to do.
At Bourdeaux, by the instigation of a monk, named Enimund An-
gerius, 264 persons were cruelly murdered, of whom some were
senators. This monk continually provoked the people in his ser-
mons to this slaughter.
At Agendicum, in Maine, a cruel slaughter of the protestants was
committed by the instigation of vEmarus, inquisitor of criminal causes.
A rumour being spread abroad, that the protestants had taken secret
counsel to invade and spoil the churches, above a hundred of every
estate and sex were by the enraged people killed or drowned in the
river f gomna, Avhich runs by the city.
On entering Blois, the duke of Guise, (to Avhom the city had opened
its gates) gave it up to rapine and slaughter ; houses were spoiled,
many ])rotestants who had remained were slain, or drowned in the
river ; neither were women spared, of whom some were ravished,
and more murdered. From thence he went to Mere, a town two
leagues from Blois, where the protestants frequently assembled at
sermons ; which for many days together was spoiled, many of its
inhabitants killed, and Cassebonius, the pastor, drowned in the next
river.
At Anjou, Albiacus, the pastor, Avas murdered, certain Avomen
slain, and some ravished.
John Bergeolus, president of Turin, an old man, being suspected
to be a protestant, haAang bought Avith a great sum of money his life
and safety, Avas, notAvithstanding, taken and beaten cruelly Avith clubs
and staves, and being stripped of his clothes, Avas brought to the bank
of the river Liger, and hanged Avith his head doAVUAvard in the Avater
up to his breast ; then his entrails Avere torn out, Avhile he AA'as yet
alive, and thrown into the river, and liis heart put upon a spear, and
carried about the city.
The toAvn of Barre, being taken by the papists, all kinds of cruelty
Avere there used, children were cut to pieces, and their boAvels and
hearts being torn out, some of the barbarians, in their blind rage,
gnaAved them Avith their teeth.
At Ali)ia of Cahors, upon the Lord's day, the 16th of December
128 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
the papists, at the ringing of a bell, broke open the houses in whicn
the protestants were assembled, and killed all they could find ; among
whom was one Guacerius, a rich merchant, whom they drew into his
house, &nd then murdered him, with his wife and children.
In a town called Penna, 300 persons (notwithstanding their lives
had been promised them) were murdered by Spaniards, who were
newly come to serve the French king.
The town of Nonne having capitulated to the papists, upon condi-
tion that the foreign soldiers should depart safe with horse and ar-
mour, leaving their ensigns, that the enemy's soldiers should not en-
ter the town, and that no harm should be done to the inhabitants, who
(if they chose) might go into the castle ; after the yielding of it, the
gates were set open, when, without any regard to these conditions,
the soldiers rushed in, and began murdering and spoiling all around
them. Men and women Avithout distinction were killed ; the streets
resounded with cries and groans, and flowed with blood. Many were
thrown down headlong from on high. Among others, the folloAving
monstrous act of cruelty was reported : a certain woman being drawn
out of a private place, into which to avoid the rage of the soldiers
slie had fled with her husband, was in his sight shamefully defiled :
and then being commanded to draw a sword, not knowing to what
end, was forced by others, who guided her hand, to give her husband
a wound, whereof he died.
Bordi?, a captain under the prince of Conde, at Mirabellum, was
killed, and his naked body cast into the street, that, being unburied,
the dogs might eat it.
The prince of Conde being taken prisoner, and his life promised
him, was shot in the neck by Montisquis, captain of the duke of
Anjou's guard. Thuanus ^hus speaks of him : " This was the end
of Lewis Bourbon, prince of Conde, of the king's blood, a man above
fhe honour of his birth, most honourable in courage and virtue ; who
in valour, constancy, wit, wisdom, experience, courtesy, eloquence,
and liberality, all which virtues excelled in him, had few equals, and
none, even by the confession of his enemies, superior to him."
At Orleans 100 men and women being committed to prison, were,
^y the furious people, most cruelly murdered.
The enemies of truth now glutted with slaughter, began every
^here to triumph in the fallacious opinion, that they were the sole
lords of men's consciences ; and, truly, it might appear to human
reason, that by the destruction of his people, God had abandoned the
earth to the ravages of his enemy. But he had otherwise decreed,
and thousands yet, who had not bowed the knee to Baal, were called
forth to glorij and virtue. The inhabitants of Rochelle, hearing of
the cruelties committed on their brethren, resolved to defend them-
selves against the power of the king ; and their example was followed
by various other towns, with which they entered into a confederacy,
exhorting and inspiring one another in the common cause. To crush
this, the king shortly after summoned the whole power of France, and
the greatest of his nobility, among whom were his royal brothers ; he
then iavested Rochelle by sea and land, and commenced a furious
siege, which, but for tlse immediate hand of God, must have ended in
its destruction.
Seven assaults were made against the town, none of which sue
J. Mmtm in the Inquisition Page 116.
I
Persecution of the Waldenses. Page 156.
PERSECUTIONS IN BOHEMIA. 129
ceeded. At one time a breach Avas made by the tremendous cannon-
ade ; but, through the undaunted valour of the citizens, assisted even
by their wives and daughters, the soldiers were driven back with
great slaughter.
The siege lasted seven months, when the duke of Anjou being pro-
claimed king of Poland, he, in concert with the king of France, en-
tered into a treaty with the people of Rochelle, which ended in a
peace ; conditions containing 25 articles, having been drawn up by
the latter, embracing many immunities both for themselves and other
Protestants in France, were confirmed by the king, and proclaimed
with great rejoicings at Rochelle and other cities.
The year following died Charles IX. of France, the tyrant who
had been so instrumental in the calamities above recorded. He was
only in the 25th year of his age, and his death was remarkable and
dreadful. When lying on his bed the blood gushed from various
parts of his body, and, after lingering in horrible torments during
many months, he at length expired.
BOOK VII.
FARTHER ACCOUNTS OF THE PERSECUTIONS IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES.
SECTION I.
PERSECUTIONS IN BOHEMIA AND GERMANY.
The severity exercised by the Roman Catholics over the reformed
Bohemians, induced the latter to send two ministers and four laymen
to Rome, in the year 977, to seek redress from the pope. After some
delay their request was granted, and their grievances redressed. Two
things in particular were permitted to them, viz. to have divine ser-
vice in. their own language, and to give the cup in the sacrament to
the laity. The disputes, however, soon broke out again, the succeed-
ing popes exerting all their power to resume their tyranny over the
minds of the Bohemians ; and the latter, with great spirit, aiming to
preserve their religious liberties.
Some zealous friends of the gospel applied to Charles, king of Bo-
hemia, A. D. 1375, to call a council for an inquiry into the abuses that
had crept into the church, and to make a thorough reformation. Charles,
at a loss how to proceed, sent to the pope for advice ; the latter, in-
censed at the affair, only replied, " Punish severely those presumptu
ous and profane heretics." The king, accordingly, banished every
one who had been concerned in the application ; and, to show his zeal
for the pope, laid many additional restraints upon the reformed Chri*
tians of the country.
9
130 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
The martyrdofti of John Huss, and Jerome of Prague,* greatly
increased the indignation of the believers, and gave animation to their
cause. These two great and pious men were condemned by order of
the council of Constance, when fifty-eight of the principal Bohemian
nobility interposed in their favour. Nevertheless, they were burnt ;
and the pope, in conjunction with the council of Constance, ordered
the Romish clergy, every where, to excommunicate all who adopted
their opinions, or murmured at their fate. In consequence of these
orders, great contentions arose between the papists and reformed Bo-
hemians, which produced a violent persecution against the latter. At
Prague it was extremely severe, till, at length, the reformed, driven to
desperation, armed themselves, attacked the senate house, and cast
twelve of its members, with the speaker, out of the windows. The
pope, hearing of this, went to Florence, and publicly excommunicated
the reformed Bohemians, exciting the emperor of Germany, and all
other kings, princes, dukes, &-c. to take up arms, in order to extirpate
the whole race ; promising, by way of encouragement, full remission
of all sins to the most wicked person who should kill one Bohemian
Protestant. The result of this was a bloody war: for several popish
princes undertook the extirpation, or at least expulsion, of the pro-
scribed people ; while the Bohemians, arming themselves, prepared
to repel them in the most vigorous manner. The popish army pre-
vailing against the Protestant forces at the battle of Cuttenburgh,
they conveyed their prisoners to three deep mines near that tow^n,
and threw several hundreds into each, where they perished in a mise-
rable manner.
A bigoted popish magistrate, named Pichel, seized twenty-four pro-
testants, among whom was his daughter's husband. On their all con-
fessing themselves of the reformed religion, he sentenced them to be
drowned in the river Abbis. On the day of the execution, a great
concourse of people attended ; and Pichel's daughter threw herself
at her father's feet, bedewed them with tears, and implored him to
pardon her husband. The obdurate magistrate sternly replied, " In-
tercede not for him, child : he is a heretic, a vile heretic." To which
she nobly answered, " Whatever his faults may be, or however his
opinions may differ from yours, he is still my husband, a thought which,
at a time like this, should alone employ my whole consideration."
Pichel flew into a violent passion, and said, " You are mad ! cannot
you, after his death, have a much worthier husband ?" — " No, sir,"
replied she, " my affections are fixed upon him, and death itself shall
not dissolve my marriage vow." Pichel, however, continued inflexi-
ble, and ordered the prisoners to be tied with their hands and feet be-
hind them, and in that manner thrown into the river. This being
put into execution, the younglady watched her opportunity, leaped into
the waves, and, embracing thebodyof her husband, both sunk together.
Persecution by the Emperor Ferdinand.
The Emperor Ferdinand, whose hatred to the protestants was unli-
mited, not thinking he had sufficiently oppressed them, instituted a high
♦ These two great men were first brought to the light of truth hy reading the doc-
trines of our countryman, John Wickliffe, who, hke the morning star of reformation,
first burst from the dark night of popish error, and illuminated the surroumUng
vrorld.
PERSECUTIONS IN BOHEMIA. 131
court of reformers, upon the plan of the inquisition, with this differ
ence, that the reformers were to remove from place to place. The
greater part of this court consisted of Jesuits, and from its decisions
there was no appeal. Attended by a body of troops, it made the tour
of Bohemia, and seldom examined or saw a prisoner ; but suffered the
soldiers to murder the protestants as ihey pleased, and then to make
report of the matter afterwards.
The first who fell a victim to their barbarity was an aged minister,
whom they killed, as he lay sick in bed. Next day they robbed and
murdered another, and soon after shot a third, while preaching in his
pulpit.
They ravished the daughter of a protestant before his face, and then
tortured her father to death. They tied a minister and his wife back
to back, and burnt them. Another minister they hung upon a cross
beam, and making a fire under him, broiled him to death. A gentle-
man they hacked into small pieces ; and they filled a young man's
mouth with gunpowder, and setting fire to it, blew his head to pieces
But their principal rage being directed against the clergy, they
seized a pious protestant minister, whom they tormented daily for a
month in the following manner : they placed him amidst them, and de-
rided and mocked him ; they spit in his face, and pinched him in va-
rious parts of his body ; they hunted him like a wild beast, till ready
to expire with fatigue ; they made him run the gauntlet, each striking
him with a twig, their fists, or ropes ; they scourged him Avith wires ;
they tied him up by the heels with his head downwards, till the blood
started out of his nose, mouth, sfcc. ; they hung him up by the arms till
they were dislocated, and then had them set again ; burning papers
dipped in oil, were placed between his fingers and toes ; his flesh was
torn with red-hot pincers ; he was put to the rack ; they pulled off the
nails of his fingers and toes ; he was bastinadoed on his feet ; a slit
was made in his ears and nose ; they set him upon an ass, and whip-
ped him through the town; his teeth were pulled out; boiling lead was
poured upon his fingers and toes ; and, lastly, a knotted cord was
twisted about his forehead in such a manner as to force out his eyes.
In the midst of these enormities, particular care was taken lest his
wounds should mortify, and his sufferings be thus shortened, till the
last day, when the forcing out of his eyes caused his death.
The other acts of these monsters were various and diabolical. At
length, the winter being far advanced, the high court of reformers,
with their military ruffians, thought proper to return to Prague ; but
on their way meeting with a protestant pastor, they could not resist
the temptation of feasting their barbarous eyes with a new kind of
cruelty. This was to strip him naked, and to cover him alternately
with ice and burning coals. This novel mode of torture was imme-
diately put in practice, and the unhappy victim expired beneath the
torments, which delighted his inhuman persecutors.
Some time after, a secret order was issued by the emperor, for ap-
prehending all noblemen and gentlemen who had been principally
concerned in supporting the protestant cause, and in nominating Fre-
derick, elector palatine of the Rhine, to be the king of Bohemia. Fifty
of these were suddenly seized in one night, and brought to the castle
of Prague ; while the estates of those who were absent were confis
132 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
cated, themselves made outlaws, and their names fixed upon a gal
lows as a mark of public ignominy.
The high court of reformers afterwards proceeded to try those who
had been apprehended, and two apostate protestants were appointed
to examine them. Their examiners asked many unnecessary and
impertinent questions, which so exasperated one of the noblemen,
that he exclaimed, opening his breast at the same time, " Cut here ;
search my heart ; you shall find nothing but the love of religion and
liberty : those were the motives for which I drew my sword, and foi
those I am willing to die."
As none of the prisoners would renounce their faith, or acknowledge
themselves in error, they were all pronounced guilty ; the sentence
was, however, referred to the emperor. When that monarch had read
their names, and the accusations against them, he passed judgment on
all, but in a different manner ; his sentences being of four kinds, viz.
death, banishment, imprisonment for life, and imprisonment during
pleasure. Twenty of them being ordered for execution, were inform-
ed they might send for Jesuits, monks, or friars, to prepare for their
awful change, but that no communication with protestants would be
permitted them. This proposal they rejected, and strove all they
could to comfort and cheer each other upon the solemn occasion.
The morning of the execution being arrived, a cannon was fired as a
signal to bring the prisoners from the castle to the principal market-
place, in which scaffolds were erected, and a body of troops drawn
up to attend. The prisoners left the castle, and passed with dignity
composure, and cheerfulness, through soldiers, Jesuits, priests, exe-
cutioners, attendants, and a prodigious concourse of people assem-
bled to see the exit of these devoted martyrs.
SECTION II.
LIFE, SUFFERINGS, AND MARTYRDOM OF JOHN HUSS.
John Huss was born in the village of Hussenitz, in Bohemia, abou'
the year 1380. His parents gave him the best education they coulo
bestow, and having acquired a tolerable knowledge of the classics, ai
a private school, he was sent to the university of Prague, where the
powers of his mind, and his diligence in study, soon rendered him
conspicuous.
In 1408, he commenced bachelor of divinity, and Avas successively
chosen pastor of the church of Bethlehem, in Prague, and dean and
rector of the university. The duties of these stations he discharged
with great fidelity, and became at length so conspicuous for the bold-
ness and truth of his preaching, that he attracted the notice, and
raised the malignity of the pope and his creatures.
His influence in the university was very great, not only on account
of his learning, eloquence, and exemplary life, but also on account of
some valuable privileges he had obtained from the king in behalf oi
that seminary.
The English reformer, Wickliffe, had so kindled the light of refor
mation, that it began to illumine the darkest corners of popery and ig
JOHN HUSS. 133
Dorance. His doctrines were received in Bohemia with avidity and
zeal, by great numbers of people, but by none so particularly as John
Huss, and his friend and fellow martyr, Jerome of Prague.
The reformists daily increasing, the archbishop of Prague issued a
decree to prevent the farther spreading of Wickliffe's writings. This,
however, had an effect quite the reverse to what he expected, for it
stimulated the converts to greater zeal, and, at length, almost the whole
university united in promoting them.
Strongly attached to the doctrines of Wirkliffe, Huss strenuously
opposed the decree of the archbishop, who, notwithstanding, obtained
a bull from the pope, authorizing him to prevent the publishing of
Wickliffe's writings in his province. By virtue of this bull, he pro-
ceeded against four doctors, who had not delivered up some copies,
and prohibited them to preach. Against these proceedings, Huss,
with some other members of the university, protested, and entered
an appeal from the sentences of the archbishop. The pope no sooner
heard of this, than he granted a commission to Cardinal Colonna, to
cite John Huss to appear at the court of Rome, to answer accusa-
tions laid against him, of preaching heresies. From this appearance
Huss desired to be excused, and so greatly was he favoured in Bo-
hemia, that King Winceslaus, the queen, the nobility, and the uni-
versity, desired the pope to dispense with such an appearance ; as
also that he would not suffer the kingdom of Bohemia to lie under
the accusation of heresy, but permit them to preach the gospel with
freedom in their places of worship.
Three proctors appeared for Huss before Cardinal Colonna. They
made an excuse for his absence, and said, they were ready to answer
in his behalf. But the cardinal declared him contumacious, and ac-
cordingly excommunicated him. On this the proctors appealed to
the pope, who appointed four cardinals to examine the process : these
commissioners confirmed the sentence of the cardinal, and extended
the excommunication, not only to Huss, but to all his friends and fol-
lowers. Huss then appealed from this unjust sentence to a future
council, but without success ; and, notwithstanding so severe a de-
cree, and an expulsion from his church in Prague, he retired to Hus-
senitz, his native place, where he continued to promulgate the truth,
both from the pulpit, and with the pen.
He here compiled a treatise, in which he maintained, that reading
the books of protestants could not be absolutely forbidden. He wrote
in defence of Wickliffe's book on the trinity, and boldly declared
against the vices of the pope, and cardinals, and the clergy of those
corrupt times. Besides these, he wrote many other books, all of which
were penned with such strength of argument, as greatly facilitated
the spreading of his doctrines.
In England, the persecutions against the protestants had been car-
ried on for some time with relentless cruelty. They now extended
to Germany and Bohemia, where Huss, and Jerome of Prague, were
particularly singled out to suffer in the cause of religion.
In the month of November, 1414, a general council was assembled
at Constance, in Germany, for the purpose of determining a dispute
then existing between three persons who contended for the papal
throne.*
♦ These were, John, proposed and set up by the Italians; Gregory, by th«
134 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
John Huss was summoned to appear at this council ; and to dispel
any apprehensions of danger, the emperor seift him a safe conduct,
giving: him permission freely to come to, and return from the coun-
cil On receiving this information, he told the persons who deliver-
ed it, " That he desired nothing more than to purge himself publicly
of the imputation of heresy ; and that he esteemed himself happy in
having so fair an opportunity of it, as at the council to which he was
summoned to attend."
In the latter end of November, he set out to Constance, accompa-
nied by two Bohemian noblemen, who were among the most eminent
of his disciples, and who followed him merely through respect and
affection. He caused some placards to be fixed upon the gates of
the churches of Prague, in which he declared, that he went to the
council to answer all allegations that might be made against him. He
also declared, in all the cities through which he passed, that he was
going to vindicate himself at Constance, and invited all his adversa-
ries to be present.
On his way he met with every mark of affection and reverence
from people of all descriptions. The streets, and even the roads,
were thronged with people, whom respect, rather than curiosity, had
brought together. He was ushered into the towns with great accla-
mations, and he passed through Germany in a kind of triumph. " I
thought," said he, " I had been an outcast. I now see my worst
friends are in Bohemia."
On his arrival at Constance, he immediately took lodgings in a re-
mote part of the city. Soon after came one Stephen Paletz, who
was engaged by the clergy of Prague to manage the intended prose-
cution against him. Paletz was afterAvards joined by Michael de
Cassis, on the part of the court of Rome. These two declared them-
selves his accusers, and drew up articles against him, which they pre-
sented to the pope, and the prelates of the council.
Notwithstanding the promise of the emperor to give him a safe
conduct to and from Constance, he regarded not his word ; but, ac-
cording to the maxim of the council, that " Faith is not to be kept
with heretics," when it was known he was in the city, he was imme-
diately arrested, and committed prisoner to a chamber in the palace.
This breach was particularly noticed by one of Huss's friends, who
urged the imperial safe conduct ; but the pope replied, he never
granted any such thing, nor was he bound by that of the emperor.
"While Huss was under confinement, the council acted the part of
inquisitors. They condemned the doctrines of Wickliffe, and, in
their impotent malice, ordered his remains to be dug up, and burnt
to ashes ; which orders were obeyed.
In the mean time, the nobility of Bohemia and Poland used all their
interest for Huss ; and so far prevailed as to prevent his being con-
denmed unheard, which had been resolved on by the commissioners
appointed to try him.
French ; and Benedict, by the Spaniards. The council continued four years, in
which the severerit laws were enacted to crush the protestants. Pope John was de-
posed, and obliged to fly, the most heinous crimes being proved against him; among
which were, his attempt to poison his predecessor, his being a Gamester, a liar, a mur-
derer, an adulterer, and guiltv of unnatural offences. °
JOHN HUSS. 135
Before his trial took place, his enemies employed a Franciscan
friar who might entangle him in his words, and then appear against
him. This man, of great ingenuity and subtlety, came to him in the
character of an idiot, and vviih seeming security and zeal, requested
to be taught his doctrines. But Huss soon discovered him, and told
him that his manners wore a great semblance of simplicity ; but that
his questi-ons discovered a depth and design beyond the reach of an
idiot. He afterwards found this pretended fool to be Didace, one of
the deepest logicians in Lombardy.
At length, he was brought before the council, when the articles ex-
hibited against him were read : they were upwards of forty in num-
ber, and chiefly extracted from his writings.*
On his examination being finished, he was taken from the court, and
a resolution was formed by the council, to burn him as a heretic, un-
less he recanted. He was then committed to a filthy prison, where,
in the day-time he was so laden with fetters on his legs, that he could
hardly move ; and every night he was fastened by his hands to a ring
against the walls of the prison.
He continued some days in this situation, in which time many no-
blemen of Bohemia interceded in his behalf. They drew up a petition
for his release, which was presented to the council by several of the
most illustrious nobles of Bohemia ; notwithstanding which, so many
enemies had Huss in that court, that no attention was paid to it, and
the persecuted reformer was compelled to bear with the punishment
inflicted on him by that merciless tribunal.
Shortly after the petition was presented, four bishops, and two
lords, were sent by the emperor to the prison, in order to prevail on
Huss to make a recar.tation. But he called God to witness, that he
was not conscious of having preached, or written any thing against
his truth, or the faith of his orthodox church. The deputies then re-
presented the great wisdom and authority of the council : to which
Huss replied, " Let them send the meanest person of that council,
who can convince me by argument from the word of God, and I will
submit my judgment to him." This pious answer had no effect, be-
cause he would not take the authority of the council upon trust, with-
out the least shadow of an argument offered. The deputies, therefore,
finding they could make no impression on him, departed, greatly as-
tonished at the strength of his resolution.
On the 4th of July, he was, for the last time, brought before the
council. After a long examination he was desired to abjure, which
he refused, without the least hesitation. The bishop of Lodi then
preached a sermon, the text of which was, " Let the body of sin be
destroyed," (concerning the destruction of heretics,) the prologue to
his intended punishment. After the close of the sermon his fate was
dete.rmined, his vindication rejected, and judgment pronounced. The
council censured him for being obstinate and incorrigible, and ordain-
ed, " That he should be degraded from the priesthood, his books pub-
licly burnt, and himself delivered to the secular power."
He received the sentence without the least emotion : and at the
close of it he kneeled down with his eyes lifted towards heaven, and,
♦ That the reader may form a judgment cf his writings, we here give une of the ar -
tides for which he was condeioned : " An evil and a wicked pope is not the successor 'jf
Peter, but of Judas."
1S6 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
with all the magnanimity of a primitive martyr, thus exclaimed
" May thy infinite mercy, O my God ! pardon this injustice of mine
enemies. Thou knowest the injustice of my accusations : how de-
formed with crimes I have been represented : how I have been op-
pressed with worthless witnesses, and a false condemnation : yet, O
my God ! let that mercy of thine, which no tongue can express, pre-
vail with thee not to avenge my wrongs." These excellent sentences
were received as so many expressions of heresy, and only tended to
inflame his adversaries. Accordingly, the bishops appointed by the
council stripped him of his priestly garments, degraded him, and put
a paper mitre on his head, on which were painted devils, with this
inscription : " A ringleader of heretics."
This mockery was received by the heroic martyr with an air of un-
concern, which appeared to give him dignity rather than disgrace.
A serenity appeared in his looks, which indicated that his soul had
cut off many stages of a tedious journey in her way to the realms of
everlasting happiness.
The ceremony of degradation being over, the bishops delivered him
to the emperor, who committed him to the care of the duke of Bava-
ria. His books were burnt at the gate of the church ; and on the 6th
of July he was led to the suburbs of Constance, to be burnt alive.
When he had reached the place of execution, he fell on his knees,
sung several portions of the Psalms, looked steadfastly towards hea
ven, and repeated, " Into thy hands, O Lord ! do I commit my spirit ,
thou hast redeemed me, O most good and faithful God."
As soon as the chain was put about him at the stake, he said, with
a smiling countenance, " My Lord Jesus Christ was bound with a
harder chain than this, for my sake ; why then should I be ashamed ol
this old rusty one ?"
When the faggots were piled around him, the duke of Bavaria de-
sired him to abjure. " No," said he, "I never preached any doctrine
of an evil tendency ; and what I taught with my lips, I now seal with
my blood." He then said to the executioner, " You are now goino
to burn a goose, {Huss signifying goose in the Bohemian language,*)
but in a century you will have a swan whom you can neither roast or
boil." If this were spoken in prophecy, he niust have meant Martin
Luther, who flourished about a century after, and who had a swan for
his arms.
As soon as the faggots were lighted, the heroic martyr sung a hymn,
with so loud and cheerful a voice, that he was heard through all the
cracklings of the combustibles, and the noise of the multitude. At
length his voice was interrupted by the flames, which soon put a pe-
riod to his life. ^ ^
SECTION III.
LIFE, SUFFERINGS, AND MARTYRDOM OF JEROME OF PRAGUE.
This hero in the cause of truth, was born at Prague, and educated
I'l Its university, where he soon became distinguished for his learning
and eloquence. Having completed his studies, he travelled ovei
JEROME OF PRAGUE. 137
great part of Europe, and visited many of the seats of learning, par-
ticularly the universities of Paris, Heidelburg, Cologne, and Oxford.
At the latter he became acquainted with the works of WicklifFe, and
translated many of them into his own language.
On his return to Prague he openly professed the doctrines of "Wick
liffe, and finding that they had made a considerable progress in Bo-
hemia, from the industry and zeal of Huss, he became an assistant to
him in the great work of reformation.
On the 4th of April, 1415, Jerome went to Constance. This was
about three months before the death of Huss. He entered the town
privately, and consulting with some of the leaders of his party, was
easily convinced that he could render his friend no service.
Finding that his arrival at Constance was publicly known, and that
the council intended to seize him, he retired, and went to Iberling, an
imperial town, a short distance from Constance. While here, he
wrote to the Emperor, and declared his readiness to appear before the
council, if a safe-conduct were granted to him ; this, however, was
refused.
After this, he caused papers to be put up in all the public places in
Constance, particularly on the doors of the cardinal's houses. In
these he professed his willingness to appear at Constance in the de-
fence of his character and doctrine, both which, he said, had been
greatly falsified. He farther declared, that if any error should be
proved against him, he would retract it; desiring only that the faith
of the council might be given for his security.
Receiving no answer to these papers, he set out on his return to
Bohemia, taking the precaution to carry with him a certificate, signed
by several of the Bohemian nobility then at Constance, testifying that
he had used every prudent means, in his power, to procure an au-
dience.
He was, however, notwithstanding this, seized on his way, without
any authority, at Hirsaw, by an officer belonging to the Duke of
Sultzbach, who hoped thereby to receive commendations from the
council for so acceptable a service.
The duke of Sultzbach immediately wrote to the council, informing
them what he had done, and asking directions how to proceed with
Jerome. The council, after expressing their obligations to the duke,
desired him to send the prisoner immediately to Constance. He was,
accordingly, conveyed thither in irons, and, on his way, was met by
the elector palatine, who caused a long chain to be fastened to him,
by which he was dragged, like a wild beast, to the cloister, whence,
after an examination, he was conveyed to a tower, and fastened to a
block, with his legs in stocks. In this manner he remained eleven
days and nights, till becoming dangerously ill in consequence, his per-
secutors, in order to gratify their malice still farther, relieved him from
that painful state.
He remained confined till the martyrdom of his friend Huss ; after
which, he was brought forth, and threatened with immediate torments
and death if he remained obstinate. Terrified at the preparations
which he beheld, he, in a moment of weakness, forgot his resolution,
abjured his doctrines, and confessed that Huss merited his fate, and
that both he and WickliflTe were heretics. In consequence of this, his
chains were taken off, and he was treated more kindly ; he was, how
138 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
evei, still confined, but in hopes of liberation. But his enemies, sus-
pecting his sincerity, proposed another form of recantation to be
drawn up and proposed to him. To this, hoAvever he refused to an-
swer, except in public, and was, accordingly, brought before the coun-
cil, when, to tfie astonishment of his auditors, and to the glory of truth,
he renounced his recantation, and requested permission to plead his
own cause, which was refused ; and the charges against him were
read, in which he was accused of being a derider of the papal digni-
ty, an opposer of the pope, an enemy to the cardinals, a persecutor
of the prelates, and a hater of the Christian religion.
To these charges Jerome answered with an amazing force of elocu-
tion, and strength of argument. After which he was remanded to
his prison.
The third day from this, his trial was brought on, and witnesses
were examined. He was prepared for his defence, although he had
been nearly a year shut up in loathsome prisons, deprived of the light
of day, and almost starved for want of common necessaries. But his
spirit soared above these disadvantages.
The most bigoted of the assembly were unwilling he should be
heard, dreading the effect of eloquence in the cause of truth, on the
minds of the most prejudiced. At length, however, it was carried by
the majority, that he should have liberty to proceed in his defence ;
which he began in such an exalted strain, and continued in such a
torrent of elocution, that the most obdurate heart was melted, and the
mind of superstition seemed to admit a ray of conviction.
Bigotry, however, prevailed, and his trial being ended, he received
the same sentence as had been passed upon his martyred country-
man, and was, m the usual style of popish duplicity, delivered over to
the civil power ; but, being a layman, he had not to undergo the cere-
mony of degradation.
Two days his execution was delayed, in hopes that he would recant ;
in which time the cardinal of Florence used his utmost endeavours
to bring him over. But they all proved ineffectual : Jerome was re-
solved to seal his doctrine with his blood.
On his way to the place of execution he sung several hymns ; and
on arriving there, he knelt down, and prayed fervently. He embra-
ced the stake with great cheerfulness and resolution ; and when the
executioner went behind him to set fire to the faggots, he said, " Come
here and kmdle it before my eyes ; for had I been afraid of it, I had
notcome here, having had so many opportunities to escape."
When the flames enveloped him, he sung a hymn; and the last
words he was heard to say, were,
This soul in flames I offer, Christ, to thee I"*
tion whrhMM^/J v"',^"i ""^"'y ^•'.""' ^"^ possessed a strong and healthy constitu-
tion, which rendered his death extremely hngering and painful. He, however sunff till
his aspinng soul took its flight from its mortal habitatioL. ' ''°^^^"' '"°^ "^
JfEKSECUTlOJNS IN GERMANY. 13U
SECTION IV.
GENERAL PERSECUTIONS IN GERMANY.
Martin Luther, by unmasking popery, and by the vigour with
which he prosecuted his doctrines, caused the papal throne to shake
to its foundation. So terrified was tlic pope at his rapid success,
that he determined, in order to stop his career, to engage the empe-
ror, Charles V,, in his scheme of utterly extirpating all who had em-
braced the reformation. To accomplish which, he gave the emperor
200,000 crowns ; promised to maintain 12,000 foot, and 5000 horse,
for six months, or during a campaign ; allowed the emperor to re-
ceive one half of the revenues of the clergy in Germany during the
war ; and permitted him to pledge the abbey lands for 500,000 crowns,
to assist in carrying on hostilities. Thus prompted and supported,
the emperor, with a heart eager, both from interest and prejudice, for
'.he cause, undertook the extirpation of the protestants; and, for this
purpose, raised a formidable army in Germany, Spain, and Italy.
The protestant princes, in the mean time, were not idle ; but form-
ed a povi^erful confederacy, in order to repel the impending blow. A
great army was raised, and the command given to the elector of Sax-
ony, and the landgrave of Hesse. The imperial forces were command-
ed by the emperor in person, and all Europe waited in anxious sus-
pense the event of the war.
At length the armies met, and a desperate engagement ensued, in
which the protestants were defeated, and the elector of Saxony, and
landgrave of Hesse, both taken prisoners. This calamitous stroke
was succeeded by a persecution, in which the most horrible cruelties
were inflicted on the protestants, and suffered by them with a fortitude
which only religion can impart.
The persecutions in Germany having been suspended many years,
again broke out in 1630, on account of a war between the emperor
and the king of Sweden ; the latter being a protestant prince, the
protestants of Germany, in consequence, espoused his cause, which
greatly exasperated the emperor against them.
The imperial army having laid siege to the town of Passewalk,
(then defended by the Swedes,) took it by storm, and committed the
most monstrous outrages on the occasion. They pulled down the
churches, pillaged and burnt the houses, massacred the ministers, put
the garrison to the sword, hanged the townsmen, ravished the women,
smothered the children, &c. &c.
In 1631, a most bloody scene took place at the protestant city of
Magdeburg. The generals Tilly and Pappenheim, having taken il
by storm, upwards of 20,000 persons, without distinction of rank, sex,
or age, were slain during the carnage, and 6000 drowned in attempt-
ing to escape over the river Elbe. After which, the remaining inha-
bitants were stripped naked, severely scourged, had their ears crop-
ped, and being yoked together like oxen, were turned adrift.
On the popish army's taking the toAvn of Hoxter, all the inhabi-
tants, with the garrison, were put to the sword.
When the imperial forces prevailed at Griphenburgh, they shut up
140 BOOK OF MARTYRS,
the senators in the senate chamber, and, surrounding it by lighted
straw, suffocated them.
Franhendal, notwithstanding it surrendered upon articles of capitu-
lation, suffered as cruelly as other places ; and at Heidelburg, many
were shut up in prison and starved.
To enumerate the various species of cruelty practised by the im-
perial troops, under Count Tilly, would excite disgust and horror.
That sanguinary monster, in his progress through Saxony, not only
permitted every excess in his soldiers, but actually commanded them
to put all their enormities in practice. Some of these are so unpa-
ralleled, that we feel ourselve& obliged to mention them.
In Hesse Cassel some of the troops entered an hospital, in which
were principally mad women, when stripping all the poor wretches
naked, they made them run about the streets for their diversion, and
then put them to death.
In Pomerania, some of the imperial troops entering a small town,
seized upon all the young women, and girls upwards of ten years,
and then placing their parents in a circle, they ordered them to sing
psalms, while they ravished their children, or else they swore they
would cut them to pieces afterwards. They then took all the mar-
ried women who had young children, and threatened, if they did not
consent to the gratification of their lusts, to burn their children be-
fore their faces, in a large fire which they had kindled for that
purpose.
A band of Tilly's soldiers met with a company of merchants be-
longing to Basil, who were returning from the great market of Stras-
bourg, and attempted to surround them ; all escaped, however, but
ten, leaving their property behind. The ten who were taken begged
hard for their lives ; but the soldiers murdered them, saying, " You
jnust die because you are heretics, and have got no money."
Wherever Tilly came, the most horrid barbarities and cruel depre-
dations ensued : famine and conflagration marked his progress. He
destroyed all the provisions he could not take with him, and burnt all
the towns before he left them ; so that murder, poverty, and desola-
tion, followed him.
Peace, at length, chiefly through the mediation of England, was
restqred to Germany, and the protestants, for several years, enjoyed
the free exercise of their religion.
Even as late as 1732, above 30,000 protestants were, contrary to
the treaty of Westphalia, driven from the archbishopric of Saltz-
burg, in the depth of winter, with scarce clothes to cover them, and
without provisions. These joor people emigrated to various protes-
tant countries, and settled in places where they could enjoy the free
exercise of their religion, free from popish superstition, and papal
despotism.
SECTION V.
PERSECUTION IN THE NETHERLANDS.
The glorious light of the gospel spreading over every part of the
continent, and chasing thence the dark night of ignorance, increaset'
PERSECUTION IN THE NETHERLANDS. HI
the alarm of the pope, who urged the emperor to commence a perse-
cution against the protestants ; when many thousands fell martyrs to
superstitious malice and barbarous bigotry : among whom were the
following.
A pious protestant widow, named Wendelinuta, was apprehended
on account of her religion, when several monks unsuccessfully en-
deavoured to persuade her to recant. Their attempts, however
proving ineffectual, a Roman Catholic lady of her acquaintance de-
sired to be admitted to the dungeon in m ich she was confined,
promising to exert herself towards inducin^^ the prisoner to abjure
her religion. On being admitted to the dungeon, she did her utmost
to perform the task she had undertaken ; but finding her endeavours
fruitless, she said, " Dear Windelinuta, if you will not embrace our
faith, at least keep the things which you profess secret within your
own bosom, and strive to prolong your life." To which the widow
replied, " Madam, you know not what you say ; for with the heart
we believe to righteousness, but with the tongue confession is made
unto salvation." Still holding her faith against every effort of the
powers of darkness, her goods were confiscated, and she was con-
demned to be burnt. At the place of execution a monk presented a
cross to her, and bade her kiss and worship God. To which she an-
swered, " I worship no Avooden god, but the eternal God, who is in
heaven." She was then executed, but at the intercession of the be-
fore mentioned lady, it was granted, that she should be strangled be-
fore the faggots were kindled.
At Colen, two protestant clergymen were burnt : a tradesman of
Antwerp, named Nicholas, was tied up in a sack, thrown into the
river, and drowned : and Pistorius, an accomplished scholar and stu-
dent, was carried to the market of a Dutch village, and burnt.
A minister of the reformed church was ordered to attend the
execution of sixteen protestants who were to be beheaded. This
gentleman performed the melancholy office with great propriety,
exhorted them to repentance, and gave them comfort in the mercies
of their Redeemer. As soon as they were beheaded, the magistrate
cried out to the executioner, " There is another remaining ; you must
behead the minister : he can never die at a better time than with such
excellent precepts in his mouth, and such laudable examples before
him." He was accordingly beheaded, though many of the Roman
Catholics themselves reprobated this piece of treacherous and unne-
cessary barbarity.
George Scherter, a minister of Saltzburg, was committed to prison
for instructing his flock in the truth of the gospel. While in confine-
ment he wrote a confession of his faith ; soon after Avhich he was
condemned, first to be beheaded, and afterwards to be burnt to ashes,
which sentence vv^as accordingly put in execution.
Percival, a learned man of Louvinia, was murdered in prison ; and
Justus Insprag was beheaded, for having Luther's sermons in his
possession.
Giles Tolleman, a cutler of Brussels, was a man of singular hu-
manity and piety. He was apprehended as a protestant, and many
attempts were made by monks to persuade him to recant. Once, by
accident, a fair opportunity of escaping from prison offered itself to
him, but of which he did not avail himself. Being asked the reason.
J 42 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
he replied, " I would not do the keepers so much injury ; as they
must have answered for my absence had I got away." When he was
sentenced to be burnt, he fervently thanked God for allowing him, by
martyrdom, to glorify his name. Observing at the place of execu-
tion a great quantity of faggots, he desired the principal part of them
might be given to the poor, saying, " A small quantity will suffice to
consume me." The executioner offered to strangle him before the
fire was lighted, but he would not consent, telling him that he defied
the flames ; and, indeed, he gave up the ghost with such composure
amidst them, that he hardly seemed sensible of pain.
In Flanders, about 1543 and 1544, the persecution raged with great
violence. Many were doomed to perpetual imprisonment, others to
perpetual banishment : but the greater number were put to death,
either by hanging, drowning, burning, the rack, or burying alive.
John de Boscane, a zealous protestant, was apprehended in the city
of Antwerp. On his trial he undauntedly professed himself to be
of the reformed religion, on which he was immediately condemned.
The magistrate, however, was afraid to execute the sentence publicly,
as he was popular through his great generosity, and almost univer-
sally revered for his inoffensive life and exemplary piety. A pri
vate execution was, therefore, determined on, for which an order was
given to drown him in prison. The executioner, accordingly, forced
him into a large tub ; but Boscane struggling, and getting his head
above the water, the executioner stabbed him in several places w^ith
a dagger till he expired.
John de Buisons, on account of his religion, was, about the same
time, secretly apprehended. In this city the number of protestants
being great, and the prisoner much respected, the magistrates, fearful
of an insurrection, ordered him to be beheaded in prison.
In 1568 were apprehended at Antwerp, Scoblant, Hues, and Coo-
mans. The first who was brought to trial was Scoblant, who, per-
sisting in his faith, received sentence of death. On his return to
prison, he requested the gaoler not to permit any friar to come near
him ; saying, " They can do me no good, but may greatly disturb
me. I hope my salvation is already sealed in heaven, and that the
blood of Christ, in which I firmly put my trust, hath washed me
from my iniquities. I am now going to throw off this mantle of clay,
to be clad in robes of eternal glory. I hope I may be the last mar-
tyr of papal tyranny, and that the blood already spilt will be sufficient
to quench its thirst of cruelty ; that the church of Christ may have rest
here, as his servants will hereafter." On the day of execution he
took a pathetic leave of his fellow-prisoners. At the stake he uttered
with great fervency the Lord's prayer, and sung the fortieth psalm ;
then commending his soul to God, the flames soon terminated his
mortal existence.
A short time after. Hues died in prison : upon which occasion Coo-
mans thus vents his mind to his friends : " I am now deprived of my
friends and companions ; Scoblant is martyred, and Hues dead by
the visitation of the Lord ; yet I am not alone : I have with me the
God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob ; he is my comfort, and
shall be my reward." When brought to trial, Coomans freely con-
fessed himself of the reformed religion, and answered with a manly
firmness to every charge brought against him, proving his doctrine
PERSECUTIONS IN LITHUANIA. I43
from the gospel. " But," sjiid the judge, " will you die for the faith
you profess ?" " I am not only willing to die," replied Coonians,
" but also to sufler the utmost stretch of inventive cruelty for it ;
after which my soul shall receive its confirmation from God himself,
in the midst of eternal glory." Being condemned, he went cheer-
fully to the place of execution, and died with Christian fortitude and
resignation.
Assassination of the Prince of Orange.
Baltazar Gerard, a native of Franchc Compte, a bigoted and furi-
ous Roman Catholic, thinking to advance his own fortune and the po-
pish cause by one desperate act, resolved upon the assassination of
the prince of Orange. Having provided himself with lire-arms, he
watched the prince as he passed through the great hall of his palace
to dinner, and demanded a passport. The princess of Orange, ob-
serving in his tone of voice and manner something confused and sin-
gular, asked who he was, saying, she did not like his countenance.
The prince answered, it was one that demanded a passport, which
he should have presently. Nothing further transpired until after
dinner, when on the return of the prince and princess through the
same hall, the assassin, from behind one of the pillars, fired at the
prince ; the balls entering at the left side, and passing through the
right, wounded in their passage the stomach and vital parts. The
prince had only power to say, "Lord have mercy upon my soul, and
upon this poor people," and immediately expired.
The death of this virtuous prince, who was considered as the father
of his people, spread universal sorrow throughout the United Pro-
vinces. The assassin was immediately taken, and received sentence to
be put to death in the most exemplary manner ; yet such was his en-
thusiasm and blindness for his crime, that while suffering for it, he
coolly said, " Were I at liberty, I would repeat the same."
In different parts of Flanders, numbers fell victims to popish jealousy
and cruelty. In the city of Valence, in particular, fifty-seven of the
principal inhabitants were butchered in one day, for refusing to em-
brace the Romish superstition ; besides whom, great numbers suflered
in confinement, till they perished.
SECTION VI.
PERSECUTIONS IN LITHUANIA.
The persecutions in Lithuania began in 1648, and were carried on
with great severity by the Cossacks and Tartars. The cruelty of the
former was such, that even the Tartars, at last, revolted from it, and
rescued some of the intended victims from their hands.
The Russians perceiving the devastations which had been made in
the country, and its incapability of defence, entered it with a consi-
derable army, and carried ruin wherever they went. Every thing
they met with was devoted to destruction. The ministers of the gos-
pel were peculiarly singled out as the objects of their hatred, while
every Christian was liable to their barbarity.
144 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Lithuania no sooner recovered itself from one persecution, than
succeeding enemies again reduced it. The Swedes, the Prussians,
and the Courlanders, carried fire and sword through it, and continual
calamities, for some years, attended that unhappy district. It was
afterwards attacked by the prince of Transylvania, at the head of an
army of barbarians, who wasted the country, destroyed the churches,
burnt the houses, plundered the inhabitants, murdered the infirm, and
enslaved the healthy.
In no part of the world have the foHowers of Christ been exempt
from the rage and bitterness of their enemies ; and well have they
experienced the force of those scripture truths, that they who will live
godly in Christ shall suffer persecution, and those who are born after
the flesh have always been enemies to such as are born after the
spirit ; accordingly, the protestants of Poland suffered in a dreadful
manner. The ministers, in particular, were treated with the most un-
exampled barbarity ; some having their tongues cut out, because they
had preached the gospel truths ; others being deprived of their sight
on account of having read the Bible ; and great numbers were cut to
pieces for not recanting. Several private persons were put to death
by the most cruel means. Women were murdered without the least
regard to their sex ; and the persecutors even went so far as to cut
off the heads of sucking babes, and fasten them to the breasts of their
unfortunate mothers.
Even the silent habitations of the dead escaped not the malice of
these savages ; for they dug up the bodies of many eminent persons,
and either cut them to pieces and exposed them to be devoured by
birds and beasts, or hung them up in the most coiispicuous places.
The city of Lesna, in this persecution, particularly suffered ; for be-
ing taken, the inhabitants were totally extirpated.
SECTION VII.
PERSECUTIONS IN CHINA AND JAPAN.
Persecutions in China.
At the commencement of the 16th century, three Italian missiona-
ries, namely, Roger the Neapolitan, Pasis of Bologna, and Matthew
Ricci of Mazerata, entered China with a view of establishing Christia-
nity there. In order to succeed in this important commission, they
had previously made the Chinese language their constant study.
The zeal displayed by these missionaries in the discharge of their
duty was very great ; but Roger and Pasis in a few years returning
to Europe, the whole labour devolved upon Ricci. The perseverance
of Ricci was pro,)ortioned to the arduous task he had undertaken.
Though disposed to indulge his converts as far as possible, he disliked
many of their ceremonies which seemed idolatrous. At length, after
eighteen years labour and reflection, he thought it most advisable to
tolerate all those customs which were ordained by the laws of the em-
pire, but strictly enjoined his converts to omit the rest; and thus, by
not resisting too much the external ceremonies of the country, he sue-
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PERSECUTIONS IN CHINA. I45
ceeded in bringing over many to the truth. In 1630, however, this
tranquilHty was disturbed by the arrival of some new missionaries ,
who, being unacquainted with the Chinese customs, manners, and lan-
guage, and with the principles of Ricci's toleration, were astonished
when they saw Christian converts fall prostrate before Confucius, and
the tables of their ancestors, and loudly censured the proceeding as
idolatrous. This occasioned a warm controversy; and not comino-to
any agreement, the new missionaries wrote an account of the aflair to
the pope, and the society for the propagation of the Christian faith.
The society soon pronounced, that the ceremonies were idolatrous and
intolerable, which sentence was confirmed by the pope. In this they
were excusable, the matter having been misrepresented to them : for
the enemies of Ricci had declared the halls, in which the ceremonies
were performed, to be. temples, and the ceremonies themselves the
sacrifices to idols.
The sentence was sent over to China, M^here it was received with
great contempt, and matters remained in the same state for some time.
At length a true representation was sent over, explaining that the
Chinese customs and ceremonies alluded to, were entirely free from
idolatry, but merely political, and tending only to the peace and wel-
fare of the empire. The pope, finding that he had not weighed the
dflliir with due consideration, sought to extricate himself from the dif-
ficulty in which he had been so precipitately entangled, and therefore
referred the representation to the inquisition, which reversed the sen-
tence immediately.
The Christian church, notwithstanding these divisions, flourished in
China till the death of the first Tartar emperor, whose successor, Cang-
hi, was a minor. During his minority, the regents and nobles con-
spired to crush the Christian religion. The execution of this design
Avas accordingly begun with expedition, and carried on with severity,
so that every Christian teacher in China, as well as those who professed
the faith, was surprised at the suddenness of the event. John Adam
Schall, a German ecclesiastic, and one of the principals of the mission,
was thrown into a dungeon, and narrowly escaped with his Hfe, being
tlien in the 74th year of his age.
In 1665, the ensuing year, the ministers of state published the fol-
lowing decree : 1. That the Christian doctrines were false. 2. That
they were dangerous to the interests of the empire. 3. That they
should not be practised under pain of death.
The result of this was a most furious persecution, in which some
were put to death, many ruined, and all in some measure oppressed.
Previous to this, the Christians had suffered partially ; but the decree
being general, the persecution now spread its ravages over the whole
empire, wherever its objects were scattered.
Four years after, the young emperor was declared of age ; and one
of the first acts of his reign was to stop this persecution.
Persecutions in Japan.
The first introduction of Christianity into the empire of Japan took
place in 1552, when some Portuguese missionaries commenced their
endeavours to make converts to the Hght of the gospel, and met Avith
such success as amply compensated their labours. They continued to
augment the number of their converts till 1616, when being accused
10
L-IC
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
of having meddled in politics, and formed a plan to subvert the go-
vernment, and dethrone the emperor, great jealousies arose, and sub-
sisted till 1622, when the court commenced a dreadful persecution
against both foreign and native Christians. Such was the rage of this
persecution, that, during the first four years, 20,570 Christians were
massacred. Death was the consequence of a public avowal of their
faith, and their churches were shut up by order of government. Many,
on a discovery of their religion by spies and informers, suffered mar-
tyrdom with great heroism. The persecution continued many years,
when the remnant of the innumerable Christians with which Japan
abounded, to the number of 37,000 souls, retired to the town and castle
of Siniabara, in the island of Xinio, where they determined to make a
stand, to continue in their faith, and to defend themselves to the very
last extremity. To this place the Japanese army followed them, anci
laid siege to the place. The Christians defended themselves with
great bravery, and held out against the besiegers three months, but
were at length compelled to surrender, when men, women, and chil-
dren, were indiscriminately murdered ; and Christianity from that time
ceased in Japan.
This event took place on the 12th of April, 1638, since which time
no Christians but the Dutch have been allowed to land in the empire,
and even they are obliged to conduct themselves with the greatest pre-
caution, to submit to the most rigorous treatment, and to carry on their
commerce with the utmost circumspection.
BOOK VIII.
PERSECUTIONS OF THE PROTESTANTS, IN VARIOUS COUNTRIES NOT BE
FORE DESCRIBED.
SECITON I.
PERSECUTIONS IN ABYSSINIA.
About the end of the fifteenth century, some Portuguese missiona-
ries made a voyage to Abyssinia, and began to propagate the Roman
Catholic doctrines among the Abyssinians, who professed Christianity
before the arrival of the missionaries.
The priests gained such an influence at court, that the emperor con-
sented to abolish the established rights of the Ethiopian church, and
to admit those of Rome ; and soon after, consented to receive a pa-
triarch from the pope, and to acknowledge the supremacy of the latter
This innovation, however, did not take place without great opposition.
Several of the most powerful lords, and a majority of the people, who
professed the primitive Christianity established in Abyssinia, took up
arms, in their defence, against the emperor. Thus, by the artifices of the
court of Rome and its emissaries, the whole empire was thrown inte
PERSECUTIONS IN TURKEY. 147
commotion, and a M^ar commenced, which was carried on through the
reigns of many emperors, and which ceased not for above a century.
All this time the Roman Catholics were strengthened by the power
of the court, by means of Avhich conjunction, the primitive Chris-
tians of Abyssinia Avere severely persecuted, and multitudes perished
by the hands of their inhuman enemies.
Persecutions in Turkey. — Account of Mahomet.
Mahomet was born at Mecca, in Arabia, a. d. 571. His parents
were poor, and his education mean ; but, by the force of his genius,
and an uncommon subtlety, he raised himself to be the founder of a
widely spread religion, and the sovereign of kingdoms. His Alcoran
is a jumble of paganism, Judaism, and Christianity. In composing it,
he is said to have been assisted by a Jew, and a Roman Catholic priest.
It is adapted entirely to the sensual appetites and passions ; and the
chief promises held out by it to its believers, are the joys of a para-
dise of women and wine. Mahomet established his doctrine by the
power of the sword. " The sword," says he, " is the key of heaven
and of hell. Whoever falls in battle, his sins are forgiven him : his
wounds shall be resplendent as vermilion, and odoriferous as musk ;
the loss of his limbs shall be supplied with the wings of angels.''
He allowed that Chi-ist was a great prophet, and a holy man ; that
he was born of a virgin, received up into glory, and shall come again
to destroy Antichrist.
He, therefore, in his early career, affected to respect the Christians.
Put no sooner was his power established, than he displayed himself in
his true colours, as their determined and sanguinary enemy. This
he proved by his persecutions of them in his lifetime, and by com-
manding those persecutions to be continued by his deluded followers,
in his Alcoran, particularly in that part entitled, " The Chapter of
the Sword." From him the Turks received their religion, which
they still maintain. Mahomet and his descendants, in the space of
thirty years, subdued Arabia, Palestine, Phosnicia, Syria, Egypt, and
Persia. They soon, however, broke into divisions and wars amongst
thenr.selves. But the princes of the Saracens, assuming the title of
Sultan, continued their rule over Syria, Egypt, and Africa, for the
space of about 400 years, when the Saracen king of Persia, commen-
cing war against the Saracen sultan of Babylon, the latter brought to
his aid the Turks. These Turks, feeling their own strength, in time
turned their arms against their masters, and by the valour of Othman,
from whom the family Avho now fill the Turkish throne are descend
ed, they soon subdued them, and established their empire.
Constantinople, after having been for many ages an imperial Chris-
tian city, was invested, in 1453, by the Turks, under Mahomet tlie
Second,* whose army consisted of 300,000 men, and, after a siege of
six weeks, it fell into the hands of the infidels, and the Turks have,
to this day, retained possession of it.j They no sooner found them-
♦ He was the ninth of the Ottoman race, and subdued all Greece.
t About fifteen years before this fatal event took place, the city h<td yielded the
liberties of its church to the pope of Rome. A manifest vant of patriotism was
evidenced in the inhabitants, who, instead of bringing forth their treasures to the
public service and defence of the place, buried them in vast heaps; insomucli, that
],18 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
selves masters of it, than they began to exercise on the inhabitants
the most unremitting barbarities, destroying them by every melhoa
of ingenious cruelty. Some they roasted alive on spits, others they
starved, some they flayed alive, and left them in that horrid manner
to perish : many were sawn asunder, and others torn to pieces by
Jiorses. Three days and nights was the city given to spoil, in which
time the soldiers were licensed to commit every enormity. The body
of the emperor being found among the slain, Mahomet commanded
his head to be stuck on a spear, and carried round the town for the
mockery of the soldiers.
Attack on Rhodes.
About the year 1521, Solyman the First took Belgrade from the
Christians. Two years after, he, with a fleet of 450 ships, and an
army of 300,000 men, attacked Rhodes, then defended by the knights
of Jerusalem. These heroes resisted the infldels till all their fortifi-
cations were levelled with the ground, their provisions exhausted, and
their ammunition spent ; when, finding no succours from the Christian
princes, they surrendered, the siege having lasted about six months,
in which the Turks suflfered prodigiously, no less than 30,000 of them
having died by the bloody flux. After this, Solyman retook Buda
from the Christians, and treated those who were found there with
great cruelty. Some had their eyes put out, others their liands, noses,
and ears cut off*. Pregnant women were ripped open, and their fruit
cast into the flames, while many children were buried up to their necks
in the earth, and left to perish.
Sie^e of Vienna.
Mad with conquest, Solyman now proceeded westward to Vienna,
glutting himself with slaughter on his march, and vainly hoping, in a
short time, to lay all Europe at his feet, and to banish Christianity
from the earth.
Having pitched his tent before the walls of Vienna, he sent three
Christian prisoners into the town, to terrify the citizens with an ac-
count of the strength of his army, while a great many more, whom
he had taken in his march, were torn asunder by horses. Happily
for the Germans, three days only before the arrival of the Turks, the
earl palatine Frederic, to whom was assigned the defence of Vienna,
had entered the town with 14,000 chosen veterans, besides a body
of horse. Solyman sent a summons for the city to surrender ; but the
Germans defying him, he instantly commenced the siege. It has
before been observed, that the religion of Mahomet promises to all
soldiers who die in battle, whatever be their crimes, immediate ad
mission to the joys of paradise. Hence arises that fury and teme-
rity which they usually display in fighting. They began with a most
tremendous cannonade, and made many attempts to take the city by
when Mahomet, suspecting the case, commanded the earth to be dug up, and found
immense hoar.ls, he exclaimed, " How was it that this place lacked ammunition and
fortification, amiilst such abundance of riches?" The Turks found a crucifix in the
great church of St. Sophia, on the head of which they wrote, " This is the God of the
Christians," and then carried it with a trumpet around the city, and exposed it to the
contempt of the soldiers, who were commanded to spit upon it. Thus did the super-
stition t-f Rome aflford a triumph to the enemies of the cross.
PERSECUTIONS IN GEORGIA. I49
assault. But the steady valour of the Germans was superior to the
enthusiasm of their enemies. Solyman, filled with indignation at
this unusual check to his fortune, determined to exert every power
to carry his project; to this end he planted his ordnance before the
king's gate, and battered it Avith such violence, that a breach was soon
made ; whereupon the Turks, under cover of the smoke, poured in
torrents into the city, and the soldiers began to give up all for lost.
But the officers, with admirable presence of mind, causing a great
shouting to be made in the city, as if fresh troops had just arrived,
their own soldiers Avere inspired with fresh courage, while the Turks,
being seized with a panic, fled precipitously, and overthrew each
other, by which means the city was freed from destruction.
Victory of the Christians.
Grown more desperate by resistance, Solyman resolved upon an-
other attempt, and this was by undermining the Corinthian gate.
Accordingly he set his Illyrians to Avork, who were expert at this
mode of warfare. They succeeded in coming under ground to the
foundations of the tower ; but being discovered by the wary citizens,
they, with amazing activity and diligence, countermined them : and
having prepared a train of gunpowder, even to the trenches of the
enemy, they set fire to it, and by that means rendered abortive their
attempts, and blew up about 8,000 of them. Foiled in every at-
tempt, the courage of the Turkish chief degenerated into madness ;
he ordered his men to scale the walls, in which attempt they were
destroyed by thousands, their very numbers serving to their own
defeat, till, at length, the valour of his troops relaxed ; and, dreading
the hardihood of their European adversaries, they began to refuse
obedience. Sickness also seized their camp, and numbers perished
from famine ; for the Germans, by their vigilance, had found means
to cut off their supplies. Foiled in ever} attempt, Solyman, at length,
after having lost above 80,000 men, resolved to abandon his enter-
prise. He accordingly put this resolve in execution, and, sending
his baggage before him, proceeded homewards with the utmost expe-
dition, thus freeing Europe from the impending terror of universal
Mahometanism.
Persecutions in Georgia and Mingrelia.
The Georgians are Christians, and being remarkable for their
beauty, the Turks and Persians persecute them by the most cruel
method. Instead of taking money for their taxes, they compel them
to deliver up their children, the females for concubines in the se-
raglios, maids of honour to sultanas, &c. or to be sold to merchants
of different nations, who proportion their price to the beauty of the
devoted fair. The boys are taken for mutes and eunuchs in the se-
raglio, clerks in the offices of state, and soldiers in the army.
Westward of Georgia is Mingrelia, a country likewise inhabited
by Christians, who undergo the same persecutions and rigours as the
Georgians by the Turks and Persians, their children being torn from
them, or they murdered for refusing to consent to the sale.
Persecutions in the States of Barhary.
In no part of the globe are Christians so hated, or treated with
such severity, as at Algiers. The conduct of the Algerines towards
160
BOOR OF MARTYRS.
them is marked Avith perfidy and cruelty. By paying a most exor
bitant fine, some Christians are allowed the title of Free Christians ,
these are permitted to dress in the fiishion of their respective coun-
tries, but the Christian slaves are obliged to wear a coarse gray suit,
and a seaman's cap.
The following are the various punishments exercised towards them :
1. If they join any of the natives in open rebellion, they are strang-
led with a bow-string, or hanged on an iron hook. 2. If they speak
against Mahomet, they must become Mahometans, or be impaled
alive. 3. If they profess Christianity again, after having changed
to the Mahometan persuasion, they are roasted alive, or thrown from
the city walls, and caught upon large sharp hooks, on which they hang
till they expire. 4. If they kill a Turk they are burnt. 5. If they
attempt to escape, and are retaken, they suffer death in the following
manner : they are hung naked on a high gallows by two hooks, the
one fastened quite through the palm of one hand, and the other
through the sole of the opposite foot, where they are left till death
relieves them. Other punishments for crimes committed by Chris-
tians are left to the discretion of the judges, who usually decree the
most barbarous tortures.
At Tunis, if a Christian is caught in attempting to escape, his limbs
are all broken ; and if he slay his master, he is fastened to the tail of
a horse, and dragged about the streets till he expires.
Fez and Morocco conjointly form an empire, and are the most
considerable of the Barbary states. The Christian slaves are treated
with the greatest rigour ; the rich have exorbitant ransoms fixed upon
them ; the poor are hard worked and half starved, and sometimes, bv
the emperor, or their brutal masters, they are murdered.
SECTION II.
PERSECUTIONS IN CALABRIA.
About the fourteenth century, a great many Waldenses of Pragela
and Dauphiny emigrated to Calabria, where, having received permis-
sion to settle in some waste lands, they soon, by the most industiious
cultivation, converted those wild and barrei; spots into regions of
beauty and fertility.
The nobles of Calabria were highly pleased with their new sub-
jects and tenants, finding them honest, quiet, and industrious ; but
the priests, filled Avith jealousy, soon exhibited complaints against
them, charging them wiih not being Roman Catholics, not making
any of their boys priests, nor making any of their girls nuns, not
going to mass, not giving wax tapers to their priests, as ofi^eriugs, not
going on pilgrimages, and not bowing to images.
To these the Calabrian lords replied, that these people were fjx
tremely harmless, giving no offence to the Roman Catholics, but
cheerfully paying the tithes to the priests, whose revenues were con-
siderably increased by their coming into the country, and who, con-
sequently, ought to be the last persons to make a complaint.
Those enemies to truth being thus silenced, things went on in
PERSECUTIONS IN CALASRIA. J5I
peace for a few years, during which the Waldenses formed them-
selves into two corporate towns, annexing several villages to their
jurisdiction. At length they sent to Geneva for two clergymen, one
to preach in each town. This being known, intelligence was con-
veyed to Pope Pius the Fourth, who determined to exterminate them
from Calabria without further delay. To this end Cardinal Alexan-
drino, a man of violent temper, and a furious bigot, was sent, together
with two monks, to Calabria, where they were to act as inquisitors.
These authorized persons came to St. Xist, one of the towns built by
the Waldenses, where, having assembled the people, they told them
that they should receive no injury if they would accept of preachers
appointed by the pope ; but if they refused, they should be deprived
both of their properties and lives ; and that to prove them, mass should
be publicly said that afternoon, at which they must attend.
But the people of St. Xist, instead of observing this, fled with their
families into the woods, and thus disappointed the cardinal and his
coadjutors. Then they proceeded to La Garde, the other town be-
longing to the Waldenses, where, to avoid the like disappointment,
they ordered the gates to be locked, and all avenues guarded. The
same proposals were then made to the inhabitants as had been made
to those of St. Xist, but with this artifice : the cardinal assured them
that the inhabitants of St. Xist had immediately come into his propo-
sals, and agreed that the pope should appoint them preachers. This
falsehood succeeded : for the people of La Garde, thinking what
the cardinal had told them to be truth, said they would exactly follow
the example of their brethren of St. Xist.
Having thus gained his point by a lie, he sent for two troops of sol-
diers with a vic'v to massacre the people of St. Xist. He accordingly
commanded the.n into the woods, to hunt them down like wild beasts,
and gave them strict orders to spare neither age nor sex, but to kill
all they came near. The troops accordingly entered the Avoods, and
many fell a prey to their ferocity, before the Waldenses were appri-
zed of their design. At length, however, they determined to sell
their lives as dearly as possible, when several conflicts happened, in
which the half-armed Waldenses performed prodigies of valour, and
many were slain on both sides. At length, the greater part of the
troops being killed in the difl'erent rencounters, the remainder were
compelled to retreat ; which so enraged the cardinal, that he wrote
to the viceroy of Naples for reinforcements.
The viceroy, in obedience to this, proclaimed throughout the Nea-
politan territories, that all outlaws, deserters, and other proscribed
persons, should be freely pardoned for their several ofiences, on con-
dition of making a campaign against the inhabitants of St. Xist, and
f f continuing under arms till those people were destroyed. On this
several persons of desperate fortunes came in, and being formed into
ligh' companies, were sent to scour the woods, and put to death all
• f.ey could meet with of the reformed religion. The viceroy himself
also joined the cardinal at the head of a body of regular forces ;
anJ, in conjunction, they strove to accomplish their bloody purpose.
Some they caught, and, suspending them upon trees, cut down boughs
and burnt them, or ripped them open, and left their bodies to be de-
voured by wild beasts or birds of prey. Mar^y they shot at a dis-
tance , but the greatest number they hunted down by way of sport.
152 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
A few escaped into caves ; but famine destroyed them in their re
treat; and the inhuman chase was continued till all these poor people
perished.
The inhabitants of St. Xist being exterminated, those of La Garde
engaged the attention of the cardinal and viceroy. The fullest pro-
tection was offered to themselves, their families, and their children,
if they would embrace the Roman Catholic persuasion ; but, on the
contrary, if they refused this mercy, as it was insolently termed, the
most cruel deaths would be the certain consequence. In spite of
the promises on one side, and menaces on the other, the Waldenses
unanimously refused to renounce their religion, or embrace the errors
of popery. The cardinal and viceroy were so enraged at this, that
they ordered thirty of them to be put immediately to the rack, as a
terror to the others. Several of these died under the torture: one
Charlin, in particular, was so cruelly used, that his belly burst, his
bowels came out, and he expired in the greatest agonies. These
barbarities, however, did not answer the end for which they were in-
tended ; for those who survived the torments of the rack, and those
who had not felt it, remained equally constant in their faith, and
boldly declared, that nothing, either of pain or fear, should ever in-
duce them to renounce their God, or bow down to idols. The inhu-
man cardinal then ordered several of them to be stripped naked, and
whipped to death with iron rods : some were hacked to pieces with
large knives; others were thrown fi-om the top of a high tower ; and
many were cased over with pitch and burnt alive.
One of the monks who attended the cardinal, discovered a most
inhuman and diabolical nature. He requested that he might shed
«ome of the blood of these poor people with his own hands ; his
request being granted, the monster took a large sharp knife, and cut
the throats of fourscore men, women, and children. Their bodies
were then quartered, the quarters placed upon stakes, and fixed in
different parts of the country.
The four principal men of La Garde were hanged, and the clergy-
man was thrown from the top of his church steeple. He was dread-
fully crushed, but not quite killed by the fall. The viceroy being
present, said, " Is the dog yet living ? Take liim up, and cast him to
the hogs ;" which brutal sentence was actually put in execution.
The monsters, in their hellish thirst of cruelty, racked sixty of the
women with such severity, that the cords pierced their limbs quite
to the bone. They v/ere after this remanded to prison, where their
wounds mortified, and they died in the most miserable manner. Many
others were put to death by various means ; and so jealous and arbi-
trary were those monsters, that if any Roman Catholics, more compas-
sionate than the rest, interceded for any of the reformed, he was im-
mediately apprehended, and sacrificed as a favourer of heretics.
The viceroy being obliged to return to Naples, and the cardinal hav-
•ng been recalled to Rome, the marquis of Butiane was commissioned
to complete what they had begun ; which he at length effected by act-
ing with such barbarous rigour, that there was not a single person of
the reformed religion left in all Calabria. Thus were a great number
of inoffensive and harmless people deprived of their possessions,
robbed of their property, driven from their homes, and, at length,
murdered, only because they would not sacrifice their consciences to
PERSECUTIONS OF THE WALDENSES. i:.3
the superstitions of others, embrace doctrines which they abnorred,
and attend to teachers whom thev could not believe.
SECTION III.
PERSECUTIONS IN THE VALLEYS OF PIEDMONT.
The Waldenses, in consequence of the continued persecutions thiiy
met with in France, fled for refuge to various parts of the world ;
among other places, many of them sought an asylum in the valleys
of Piedmont, where they increased and flourished exceedingly for a
considerable time.
Notwithstanding their harmless behaviour, inoflensive conversa-
tion, and their paying tithes to the Romish clergy, the latter could not
be contented, but sought to give, them disturbance, and accordingly
complained to the archbishop of Turin, that the Waldenses were here-
tics ; upon which he ordered a persecution to be commenced, in
consequence of which many fell martyrs to the superstitious rage of
the monks and priests.
At Turin, one of the reformed had his bowels torn out and put into
a bason before his face, where they remained, in his view, till he ex-
pired. At Revel, Catelin Girard being at the stake, desired the exe-
cutioner to give him up a stone, which he refused, thinking that he
meant to throw it at somebody ; but Girard assuring him that he had
no such design, the executioner complied ; when Girard, looking
earnestly at the stone, said, " When it is in the power of a man to
eat and digest this stone, the religion for which I am about to suffer
shall have an end, and not before." He then threw the stone on the
ground, and submitted cheerfully to the flames. A great many more
were oppressed, or put to death, till, wearied Avith their sufferings,
the Waldenses flew to arms in their defence, and formed themselves
into regular bodies. Full of revenge at this, the archbishop of Turin
sent troops against them ; but in most of the skirmishes the Wal-
denses were victorious ; for they knew, if they were taken, they
should not be considered as prisoners of war, but be tortured to death
as heretics.
Nohle Conduct of the Duke of Savoy.
Philip the Seventh, who was at this time duke of Savoy, and su-
preme lord of Piedmont, determined to interpose his authority, and
stop these bloody wars, which so disturbed his dominions. Never-
theless, unwilling to offend the pope, or the archbishop of Turin, he
sent them both messages, importing, that he could not any longer
tamely see his dominions overrun with troops, who were commanded
by prelates in the place of generals ; nor would he suffer his country
to be depopulated, while he himself had not been even consulted
upon the occasion.
The priests, perceiving the determination of the duke, had re-
course to the usual artifice, and endeavoured to prejudice his mind
against the Waldenses ; but he told them, that although he was unac-
quainted with the religious tenets of these people, yet he had always
154 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
found them quiet, faithful, and obedient, and was, therefore, determin-
ed they should be persecuted no longer. The priests then %^ented
the most palpable and absurd falsehoods ; they assured the duke that
he was mistaken in the Waldenses, for they were a wicked set of
people, and highly addicted to intemperance, uncleanness, blasphemy,
adultery, incest, and many other abominable crimes ; and that they
were even monsters in nature, for their children were born with
black throats, with four rows of teeth, and bodies covered with hair.
But the duke was not so to be imposed upon, notwithstanding the
solemn affirmations of the priests. In order to come at the truth, he
sent twelve gentlemen into the Piedmontese valleys, to examine into
the real character of the people.
These gentlemen, after travelling through all the towns and vil-
lages, and conversing with the Waldenses of every rank, returned to
the duke, and gave him the most favourable account of them ; affirm-
ing, in contradiction to the priests, that they were harmless, inoffen-
sive, loyal, friendly, industrious, and pious ; that they abhorred the
crimes of which they were accused*; and that, should an individual,
through his depravity, fall into any of those crimes, he would, by their
laws, be punished in the most exemplary manner. With respect to
the children, of whom the priests had told the most gross and ridicu-
lous falsehoods, they were neither born with black throats, teeth in
their mouth, nor hair on their bodies, but were as fine children as
could be seen. " And to convince your highness of what we have
said," continued one of the gentlemen, " we have brought twelve of
the principal male inhabitants, who are come to ask pardon, in the
name of the rest, for having taken up arms without your leave,
though even in their own defence, and to preserve their lives from
their merciless enemies. We have likewise brought several women,
with children of various ages, that your highness may have an oppor-
tunity of judging for yourself" His highness then accepted the apo-
logy of the twelve delegates, conversed with the women, examined
the children, and afterwards graciously dismissed them. He then
commanded the priests, who had attempted to mislead him, immc
diately to leave the court ; and gave strict orders, that the persecu-
tion should cease throughout his dominions.
During the remainder of the reign of this virtuous prince, the
Waldenses enjoyed repose in their retreats ; but, on his death, this
happy scene changed, for his successor was a bigoted papist. About
the same time, some of the principal Waldenses proposed, that their
clergy should preach in public, that every one might know the purity
of their doctrines ; for hitherto they had preached only in private,
and to such congregations as they well knew to consist of none but
persons of the reformed religion.
When this reached the ears of the new duke, he was greatly exas-
perated, and sent a considerable body of troops into the valleys,
swearing, that if the people would not conform to the Romish faith, he
would have them flayed alive. The commander of the troops soon
found the impracticability of conquering them with the number of men
then under him ; he, therefore, sent word to the duke, that the idea
of subjugating the Waldenses with so small a force was ridiculous ;
that they were better acquainted with the country than any that were
with him ; that they had secured all the passes, were well armed, and
PERSECUTIONS OF THE WALDENSES I55
determined to defend themselves. Alarmed at this, the duke com-
manded his troops to return, determining to act by stratagem. He,
therefore, ordered rewards for taking any of the Waldenses, who
might be found straying from their places of security ; and these,
when taken, were either flayed alive or burnt.
Pope Paul the Third, a furious bigot, ascending the pontifical chair
immediately solicited the parliament of Turin to persecute the Wal-
denses, as the most pernicious of all heretics. To this the parliament
readily assented, when several were suddenly seized and burnt by
their order. Among these was Bartholomew Hector, a bookseller
of Turin. He had been brought up a Roman Catholic, but some trea-
tises written by the reformed clergy having fallen into his hands, he
was fully convinced of their -truth, and of the errors of the church of
Rome ; yet his mind was, for some time, wavering between fear and
duty, when, after serious consideration, he fully embraced the re-
formed religion, and was apprehended, as we have already mention-
ed, and burnt.
A consultation was again held by the parliament of Turin, in which
it was agreed that deputies should be sent to the valleys of Piedmont
with the following propositions: — 1. That if the Waldenses would
return to the bosom of the church of Rome, they should enjoy their
houses, properties, and lands, and live with their families, without the
least molestation. 2. That to prove their obedience, they should
send twelve of their principal persons, Avith all their ministers and
schoolmasters, to Turin, to be dealt with at discretion. 3. That the
pope, the king of France, and the duke of Savoy, approved of, and
authorized the proceedings of the parliament of Turin, upon this oc-
casion. 4. That if the Waldenses of Piedmont rejected these pro-
positions, persecution and death should be their reward.
In answer to these hostile articles, the Waldenses made the follow-
ing noble replies : — 1. That no consideration whatever should make
thern renounce their religion. 2. That they would never consent to
intrust their best friends to the custody and discretion of their worst
enemies. 3. That they valued the approbation of the King of kings,
who reigns in heaven, more than any temporal authority. 4. That
their souls were more precious than their bodies.
As may be conjectured, these spirited and pointed answers greatly
exasperated the parliament of Turin ; in consequence of which, they
continued, Avith more avidity than ever, to seize such Waldenses as
unfortunately had strayed from their hiding-places, and put them to
the most cruel deaths.
They soon after solicited from the king of France a considerable
body of troops, in order to exterminate the reformed from Piedmont ;
but just as the troops were about to march, the protestant princes of
Germany interposed, and threatened to send troops to assist the Wal-
denses. On this, the king of France, not wishing to enter into a Avar,
remanded the troops. This greatly disappointed the sanguinary
members of the parliament, and for Avant of poAver the persecution
gradually ceased, and they could only put to death such as they
caught by chance, which, OAving to the caution of the Waldenses,
were very fcAv.
After a few years tranquillity, they were again disturbed in the fol-
lowing manner : The pope's nuncio, coming to Turin, told the duke
156 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
iie was astonished ihat he had not yet either rooted out the Walden
ses from Piedmont entirely, or compelled them to return to the church
of Rome. That such conduct in him awakened suspicion, and that
he really thought him a favourer of those heretics, and should accord-
ingly report the affair to the pope. Roused by this reflection, and
fearful of being misrepresented to the pope, the duke determined to
banish those suspicions ; and, to prove his zeal, resolved to persecute
the unoffending Waldenses. He, accordingly, issued express orders
for all to attend mass regularly, on pain of death. This they abso-
lutely refused to do, on which he entered Piedmont with a great body
of troops, and began a most furious persecution, in which great num-
bers were hanged, drowned, ripped open, tied to trees, pierced with
prongs, thrown from precipices, burnt, stabbed, racked to death, wor-
ried by dogs, and crucified with their heads downwards. Those who
fled had their goods plundered and their houses burnt. When they
caught a minister or a schoolmaster, they put him to such exquisite
tortures, as are scarcely credible. If any whom they took seemed
wavering in their faith, they did not put them to death, but sent them
to the galleys, to be made converts by dint of hardships.
In this expedition, the duke was accompanied by three men who
resembled devils, viz. 1. Thomas Incomel, an apostate, brought
up in the reformed religion, but who had renounced his faith, embraced
the errors of popery, and turned monk. He was a great libertine,
given to unnatural crimes, and most particularly solicitous for the
plunder of the "Waldenses. 2. Corbis, a man of a very ferocious and
cruel nature, whose business was to examine the prisoners. 3. The
provost of justice, an avaricious wretch, anxious for the execution of
the Waldenses, as every execution added to his hoards.
These three monsters were unmerciful to the last degree : wherever
they came, the blood of the innocent was shed. But, besides the
cruelties exercised by the duke with these three persons and the army
in their different marches, many local barbarities took place. At
Pignerol was a monastery, the monks of which finding they might
injure the reformed with impunity, began to plunder their houses,
and pull down their churches ; and not meeting with opposition, they
next seized upon the persons of those unhappy people, murdering the
men, confining the women, and putting the children to Roman Catho-
lic nurses.
In the same manner the Roman Catholic inhabitants of the valley
of St. Martin did all they could to torment the neighbouring Walden-
ses ; they destroyed their churches, burnt their houses, seized their
property, carried away their cattle, converted their lands to their own
use, committed their ministers to the flames, and drove the people to
the woods, where they had nothing to subsist on but wild fruits, the
bark of trees, roots, &lc. &c.
Some Roman Catholic ruffians having seized a minister, as he was
going to preach, determined to take him to a convenient place, and
burn him. His parishoners hearing of this, armed themselves, pur-
sued and attacked the villains ; who, finding they could not execute
their first intent, stabbed the poor gentleman, and, leaving him wel-
tering in his blood, made a precipitate retreat. His parishioners did
all they could to recover him, but in vain ; for he expired as they were
carrying him home.
PERSECUTIONS OF THE WALDENSES. 157
The monks of Pignerol having a great desire to get into their pos-
session a minister of the town of St. Germain, hired a band of ruf-
fians for the purpose of seizing him. These fellows were conducted
by a treacherous servant to the clergyman, who knew a secret way
to the house, by which he could lead them without alarming the
neighbourhood. The guide knocked at the door, and being asked
who was there, answered in his own name. The clergyman, expect-
ing no injury from a person on whom he had heaped favours, imme-
diately opened the door ; perceiving the ruffians, he fled, but they
rushed in and seized him. They then murdered all his family ;
after which they proceeded with their captive towards Pignerol, goad-
ing him all the way. He was confined a considerable time in prison,
and then burnt.
The murderers continuing their assaults about the town of St. Ger-
main, murdering and plundering many of the inhabitants, the reformed
of Lucerne and Angrogne sent some armed men to the assistance of
their brethren. These men frequently attacked and routed the ruf-
fians, which so alarmed the monks, that they left their monastery of
Pignerol, till they could procure regular troops for their protection.
The duke of Savoy, not finding himself so successful as he at fii=t
imagined he should be, augmented his forces, joined to them the ruf-
fians, and commanded that a general delivery should take place in the
prisons, provided the persons released would bear arms, and assist in
the extermination of the Waldenses.
No sooner were the Waldenses informed of these proceedings, than
they secured as much of their property as they could, and, quitting
the valleys, retired to the rocks and caves among the Alps.
The army no sooner reached their destination than they began to
plunder and burn the towns and villages ; but they could not force
the passes of the Alps, gallantly defended by the Waldenses, who, in
those attempts, always repulsed their enemies ; but if any fell into the
hands of the troops, they were treated in the most barbarous manner.
A soldier having caught one of them, bit his right ear off, saying, " I
will carry this member of that wicked heretic with me into my own
"country, and preserve it as a rarity." He then stabbed the man, and
threw him into a ditch.
At one time, a party of troops found a venerable man, upwards of
an hundred years of age, accompanied by his grand-daughter, a maiden,
of about eighteen, in a cave. They murdered the poor old man in a
most inhuman manner, and then attempted to ravish the girl, when she
started away, and being pursued, threw herself from a precipice and
was dashed to pieces.
Determined, if possible, to expel their invaders, the Waldenses en-
tered into a league with the protestant powers in Germany, and with
the reformed of Dauphiny and Pragela. These were respectively to
furnish bodies of troops; and the Waldenses resolved, when thus re-
inforced, to quit the mountains of the Alps, where they soon must have
perished, as the winter was coming on, and to force the duke's army
to evacuate their native valleys.
But the duke of Savoy himself was tired of the war, it having cost
him great fatigue and anxiety of mind, a vast number of men, and
very considerable sums of money. It had been much more tedious
and Woody than he expected, as well as more expensive than he at
158 BOOK OF MART YRS.
first imagined, for he thought the plunder would have discharged the
expenses of the expedition : in this, however, he was mistaken ; for
the pope's nuncio, the bishops, monks, and other ecclesiastics, who
attended the army, and encouraged the war, sunk the greatest part of
the wealth that was taken, under various pretences. For these rea-
sons, and the death of his dutchess, of which he had just received in-
telligence, and fearing that the Waldenses, by the treaties they had
entered into, would become too powerful for him, he determined to
return to Turin with his army, and to make peace with them.
This resolution he put in practice, greatly against the wish of the
ecclesiastics, who, by the war, gratified both their avarice and revenge.
Before the articles of peace could be ratified, the duke himself died ;
but, on his death bed, he strictly enjoined his son to perform what he
had intended, and to be as favourable as possible to the Waldenses,
Charles Emanuel, the duke's son, succeeded to the dominions of
Savoy, and fully ratified the peace with the Waldenses, according to
the last injunctions of his father, though the priests used all their arts
to dissuade him from his purpose.
SECTION IV.
PERSECUTIONS IN VENICE.
Before the terrors of the inquisition were known at Venice, a great
number of protestants fixed their residence there, and many converts
were made by the purity of their doctrines, and the inofiensiveness
of their conversation.
The pope no sooner learned the great increase of protestantism,
than he, in the year 1542, sent inquisitors to Venice, to apprehend
such as they might deem obnoxious. Hence a severe persecution
began, and many persons were martyred for serving God with since-
rity, and scorning the trappings of superstition.
Various were the modes by which the protestants were deprived of
life ; but one in particular, being both new and singular, we shall de-
scribe : as soon as sentence was passed, the prisoner had an iron
chain, to which was suspended a great stone, fastened to his body ;
he was then laid flat upon a plank, Avith his face upwards, and rowed
between two boats to a certain distance at sea, when the boats sepa-
rated, and, by the weight of the stone, he was sunk to the bottom.
If any dared to deny the jurisdiction of the inquisitors at Venice,
they were conveyed to Rome, where, being committed to damp and
nauseous dungeons, their flesh mortified, and a most miserable death
ensued.
A citizen of Venice, named Anthony Ricetti, being apprehended as
a protestant, was sentenced to be drowned in the manner above de-
scribed. A few days previous to his execution, his son went to him,
and entreated him to recant, that his life might be saved, and himself
not left an orphan. To this the father replied, " A good Christian is
bound to relinquish not only goods and children, but life itself, for the
glory of his Redeemer." The nobles of Venice likewise sent him
word, that if he would embrace the Roman Catholic religion, they
PERSECUTIONS IN ITALY. 159
would not only grant him life, but redeem a considerable estate whicli
he had mortgaged, and freely present him with it. This, however,
he absolutely refused to comply with, saying that he valued his soul
beyond all other considerations. Finding all endeavours to persuade
him inertectual, they ordered the execution of his sentence, which
took place accordingly, and he died recommending his soul fervently
to his Redeemer.
Francis Sega, another Venetian, steadfastly persisting in his faith,
M'as executed, a few days after Ricetti, in the same manner.
Francis Spinola, a protestant gentleman of great learning, was ap-
prehended by order of the inquisitors, and carried before their tribunal,
A treatise on the Lord's Supper was then put into his hands, and he
was asked if he knew the author of it. To which he replied, " I con-
fess myself its author; and solemnly affii-m, that there is not a line in
it but what is authorized by, and consonant to, the Holy Scriptures."
On this confession he was committed close prisoner to a dungeon.
After remaining there several days, he was brought to a second ex-
amination, when he charged the pope's legate, and the inquisitors,
with being merciless barbarians, and represented the superstition and
idolatry of the church of Rome in so strong a light, that, unable to re-
fute his arguments, they recommitted him to his dungeon. Being
brought up a third time, they asked him if he would recant his errors,
to which he answered, that the doctrines he maintained were not er-
roneous, being purely the same as those which Christ and his apostles
had taught, and which were handed down to us in the sacred scrip-
tures. The inquisitors then sentenced him to be drowned, which was
executed in the manner already described. He went to death -with
joy, thinking it a happiness to be so soon ushered into the world of glory,
to dwell with God and the spirits of just men made perfect.
SECTION V.
MARTYRDOMS IN VARIOUS PARTS OF ITALY.
John Mollius was born at Rome, of a respectable family. At twelve
years old his parents placed him in a monastery of gray friars, where
he made so rapid a progress in his studies, that he was admitted to
priest's orders at the early age of eighteen years. He was then sent
to Ferrara, where, after six years further study, he was appointed theo-
logical reader in the university of that city. Here he began to exer-
cise his great talents to disguise the gospel truths, and to varnish over
the errors of the church of Rome. Having passed some years here, he
removed to the university of Benonia, where he became a professor.
At length, happily reading some treatises written by ministers of the
reformed religion, he was suddenly struck with the errors of popery,
and became in his heart a zealous protestant. He now determined to
expound, in truth and simplicity, St. Paul's epistle to the Romans, in
a regular course of sermons ; at Cuch of which he was attended by a
vast concourse of people. But when the priests learned his doctrines,
they despatched an account thereof to Rome ; upon which the pope
sent Cornelius, a monk, to Benonia, to expound the same epistle, ac
ICA) BOOK OF MARTYRS.
cording to his own tenets, and lo controvert tlie doctrine of Mollius.
The people, however, found such a disparity between the two preach-
ers, that the audience of Molhus increased, while Cornelius preached
to empty benches. The latter, on this, wrote of his bad success to the
pope, who immediately ordered Mollius to be apprehended. He was
seized accordingly, and kept in close confinement. The bishop of
Benonia sent him word that he must recant or be burnt ; but he ap-
pealed to Rome, and was in consequence removed thither. Here he
begged to have a public trial ; but this the pope absolutely denied him,
and commanded him to explain his opinions in writing, which accord
ingly he did on scripture authority. The pope, for reasons of policy,
spared him for the present; but, in 1553, had him hanged, and his
body afterwards burnt to ashes.
Francis Gamba, a Lombard, and a protestant, was apprehended,
and condemned to death by the senate of Milan, in the year 1554.
At the place of execution, he was presented by a monk M'ith a cross.
" My mind," said Gamba, " is so full of the real merits and goodness
of Christ, that I want not a piece of senseless stick to put me in mind
of him." For this expression his tongue was bored through, after
Mhich he was committed to the flames.
About the same period Algerius, a learned and accomplished student
in the university of Padua, embraced the reformed religion, and was
zealous in the conversion of others. For these proceedings he was ac-
cused of heresy to the pope, and being apprehended, was committed to
the prison at Venice, whence he wrote to his converts at Padua the
following celebrated and beautiful epistle.
"Dear Friends,
" I CANNOT omit this opportunity of letting you know the sincere
pleasure I feel in my confinement : to suffer for Christ is delectable
indeed ; to undergo a little transitory pain in this world, for his sake,
is cheaply purchasing a reversion of eternal glory, in a life that is ever-
lasting. Hence I have found honey in the entrails of a lion ; a para-
dise in a prison ; tranquillity in the house of sorrow : where others
weep, I rejoice ; where others tremble and faint, I find strength and
courage. The Almighty alone confers these favours on me ; be his
the glory and the praise.
" How different do I find myself from what I was before I embraced
the truth in its purity ! I was then dark, doubtful, and in dread ; I
am now enlightened, certain, and full of joy. He that was far from
me, is present with me ; he comforts my spirit, heals my grief,
strengthens my mind, refreshes my heart, and fortifies my soul.
Learn, therefore, how merciful and amiable the Lord is, who supports
his^ servants under temptations, expels their sorrows, lightens their
afflictions, and even visits them with his glorious presence in the gloom
of a dismal dungeon.
"Your sincere fiiend,
"Algerius."
The pope being informed of Algerius's great learning and abilities,
sent for him to Rome, and tried, by every means, to win him to hi&
purpose. But finding his endeavours hopeless, he ordered him to be
burnt.
Assassination of the Prince of Orange hy Baltazar
Crerard. Page 143.
Constantine XV. defending Constantinople. P. 147.
Barbarities exercised by the Popish Persecutors on
the Waldenses of Calabria. Page 151.
PERSECUTIONS IN SALUCES. ]qi
In 1559, John Alloisius, a protestant teacher, having come from
Geneva to preach in Calabria, was there apprehended, carried to
Rome, and burnt, by order of tlie pope ; and at Messina, James Bo-
velkis was burnt for the same offence.
In the year 1560, Pope Pius the Fourth commenced a general per-
secution of the protestants throughout the Italian states, when great
numbers of every age, sex, a.id condition, suffered martyrdom. Con-
cerning the cruelties practised upon this occasion, a learned and hu-
mane Roman Catholic thus speaks in a letter to a nobleman :
" I cannot, rny lord, forbear disclosing my sentiments with respect
to the persecution now carrying on. I think it cruel and unneces-
sary; I tremble at the manner of putting to death, as it resembles
more the slaughter of calves and sheep, than the execution of human
beings. I will relate to your lordship a dreadful scene, of which I
was myself an eye witness : seventy protestants were cooped up in
one filthy dungeon together ; the executioner went in among them,
picked out one from among the rest, blindfolded him, led him out to
an open place before the prison, and cut his throat with the greatest
composure. He then calmly walked into the prison again, bloody as
he was, and, with the knife in his hand, selected another, and dis-
patched him in the same manner; and this, my lord, he repeated, till
the whole number were put to death. I leave it to your lordship's
feelings to judge of my sensations upon the occasion ; my tears now
wash the paper upon which I give you the recital. Another thing I
must mention, the patience with which they met death ; they seemed
all resignation and piety, fervently praying to God, and cheerfully
encountering their fate. I cannot reflect without shuddering, how
the executioner held the bloody knife between his teeth ; what a
dreadful figure he appeared, all covered with blood, and with what
unconcern he executed his barbarous office !"
SECTION VI.
PERSECUTIONS IN THE MARQUISATE OF SALUCES.
The marquisate of Saluces, or Saluzzo, is situated on the south side
of the valleys of Piedmont, and, in the year 1561, was principally
mhabited by protestants, when the marquis began a persecution
against them at the instigation of the pope. He commenced by
banishing the ministers; if any of whom refused to leave their flocks,
they were imprisoned, and severely t' rtured ; he did not, however,
put any to death.
A little time after, the marquisate fell into the possession of the
duke of Savoy, who sent circular letters to all the towns and villages,
that he expected the people should all go to mass. Upon this the
inhabitants of Saluces returned a submissive, yet manly answer, en-
treating permission to continue in the practice of the religion of their
forefathers.
This letter, for a time, seemed to pacify the duke, but, at length, he
sent them word, that they must either conform to his former commands,
or leave his dominions in fifteen days. The protestants, upon this
,62
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
unex]>ected edict, sent a deputy to the duke to obtain his revocation,
or at least to have it moderated. Their petitions, however, were
vain, and thev were given to understand that the edict was peremp-
tory.
Some, under the impulse of fear, or worldly interest, were weak
enough to go to mass, in order to avoid banishment, and preserve their
property ; others removed, with all their effects, to different countries ;
many neglected the time so long, that they were obliged to abandon
all they were worth, and leave the marquisate in haste ; while some,
who unhappily staid behind, were seized, plundered, and put to death
SECTION VII.
PERSECUTIONS IN PIEDMONT, IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.
Pope Clement the Eighth sent missionaries into the valleys of Pied
mont, with a view to induce the protestants to renounce their reli-
gion. These missionaries erected monasteries in several parts of the
valleys, and soon became very troublesome to the reformed, to whom
the monasteries appeared not only as fortresses to curb, but as sanc-
tuaries for all such to fly to as had injured them in any degree.
The insolence and tyranny of these missionaries increasing, the
protestants petitioned the duke of Savoy for protection. But instead
of granting any redress, the duke published a decree, in which he de-
clared, that one witness should be sufficient in a court of law against
a protestant ; and that any witness who convicted a protestant of any
crime whatever, should be entitled to a hundred crowns as a reward.
In consequence of this, as may be imagined, many protestants fell
martyrs to the perjury and avarice of the papists, who would SAvear
any thing against them for the sake of the reward, and then fly to
their own pi-iests for absolution from their false oaths.
These missionaries endeavoured to get the books of the protestants
into their power, in order to burn them ; and on the owners conceal-
ing them, wrote to the duke of Savoy, who, for the heinous crime of
not surrendering their bibles, prayer books, and religious treatises,
sent a number of troops to be quartered on them, which occasioned
the ruin of many families.
To encourage, as much as possible, the apostacy of the protestants,
the diike published a proclamation, granting an exemption for five
years from all taxes to every protestant Avho should become a catho-
lic. He likewise established a court called the council for extirpa-
ting the heretics; the object and nature of which are sufficiently evi-
dent from its name.
After this the duke published several edicts, prohibiting the protest-
ants from acting as schoolmasters or tutors ; from teaching any art,
science, or language; from holding any places of profit, trust, or ho-
nour : and, finally, commanding them to attend mass. This last was
the signal for a persecution, which, of course, soon followed.
Before the persecution commenced, the missionaries employed kid-
nappers to steal away the children of the protestants, that they might
nrivately be brought up Roman Catholics ; but now they took away
PERSECUTIONS liN PIEDMONT. 163
the children by open force, and if the wretched parents resisted, they
were immediately murdered.
The duke of Savoy, in order to give force to the persecution, called a
general assembly of the Roman Catholic nobility and gentry, whence
issued a solemn edict against the reformed, containing many heads,
and including several reasons for extirpating them, among which the
following were the principal : the preservation of the papal authority,
that the church livings might be all under one mode of government,
to make an union among all parties, in honour of all the saints and of
the ceremonies of the church of Rome.
This was followed by a most cruel order, published on January 25,
1655, which decreed, that every family of the reformed religion, of
whatever rank, residing in Lucerne, St. Giovanni, Bibiana, Campig-
lione, St. Secondo, Lucernetta, La Torre, Fenile, or Bricherassio,
should, Avithin three days after the publication thereof, depart from
their habitations to such places as were appointed by the duke, on pain
of death and confiscation.
This order produced the greatest distress among the unhappy objects
of it, as it was enforced with the greatest severity, in the depth of a
very severe winter, and the people were driven from their habitations
at the time appointed, without even sufficient clothes to cover them ;
by which many perished in the mountains, through the severity of the
weather, or for want of food. Those M'ho remained behind after the
publication of the decree, were murdered by the popish inhabitants, or
shot by the troops, and the most horrible barbarities were perpetrated
by these ruffians, encouraged by the Roman Catholic priests and
monks, of which the following may serve as a specimen.
Martha Constantine, a beautiful young woman, was first ravished,
and then killed, by cutting off her breasts. These some of the soldiers
fried, and set before their comrades, who eat them without knowing
what they were. When they had done eating, the others told them
what they had made a meal of, in consequence of which, a quarrel en-
sued, and a battle took place. Several were killed in the fray, the
greater part of whom were those concerned m the horrid massacre of
the woman, and the inhuman deception on their comrades.
Peter Simonds, a protestant of about eighty years of age, was tied
neck and heels, and then thrown down a precipice. In his fall the
branch of a tree caught hold of the ropes that fastened him, and sus-
pended him in the mid-way, so that he languished for several days,
till he perished of hunger.
Several men, women, and children were flung from the rocks, and
dashed to pieces. Among others, Magdalen Bertino, a protestant
woman of La Torre, was stripped naked, her head tied between her
legs, and she was then thrown dc \vn a precipice. Mary Raymondet, of
the same town, had her flesh sliced from her bones till she expired ;
Magdalen Pilot, of Villaro, was cut to pieces in the cave of Castolus :
Ann Charboniere had one end of a stake thrust up her body, and the
other end being fixed in the ground, she was left in that manner to
perish , and Jacob Perrin, the elder, of the church of Villaro, with
David, his brother, was flayed alive.
Giovanni Andrea Michialin, an inhabitant of La Torre, with four of
his children, was apprehended ; three of them were hacked to pieces
before him, the soldiers asking him at the death of every child, if he
154 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
would recant, which he constantly refused. One of the soldiers then
took up the last and youngest by the legs, and putting the same ques-
tion to the father, he replied as before, when the inhuman brute dash-
ed out the child's brains. The father, however, at the same moment
started from them, and fled : the soldiers fired after him, but missed
him ; and he escaped to the Alps, and there remained concealed.
Giovanni Pelanchion, on refusing to abjure his faith, was tied by one
leg to the tail of a mule, and dragged through the streets of Lucerne,
amidst the acclamations of an inhuman mob, who kept stoning him,
and crying out, " He is possessed of the devil." They then took him
to the river side, chopped off his head, and left that and his body un-
buried, upon the bank of the river.
A beautiful child, ten years of age, named Magdalene Fontaine, was
ravished and murdered by the soldiers. Another girl, of about the
same age, they roasted alive at Villa Nova; and a poor woman, hear-
ing the soldiers were coming toAvards her house, snatched up the cra-
dle in which her infant son was asleep, and fled towards the woods.
The soldiers, however, saw and pursued her, when she lightened her-
self by putting down the cradle and child, which the soldiers no sooner
came to, than they murdered the infant, and continuing the pursuit,
found the mother in a cave, where they first ravished, and then cut her
to atoms.
Jacobo Michelino, chief elder of the church of Bobbio, and several
Other protestants, were hung up by hooks fixed in their flesh, and left
VOto expire. Giovanni Rostagnal, a venerable protestant, upwards of
IbUTscore years of age, had his nose and ears cut off, and the flesh cut
&om his body, till he bled to death.
Jacob Birone, a schoolmaster of Rorata, was striped naked ; and
after having been so exposed, had the nails of his toes and fingers torn
off with red-hot pincers, and holes bored through his hands with the
point of a dagger. He next had a cord tied round his n\iddle, and was
led through the streets with a soldier on each side of him. At every
turning, the soldier on his right-hand side cut a gash in his flesh, and
the soldier on his left-hand side struck him with a bludgeon, both say-
ing, at the same instant, "Will you go to mass? Will you go to mass?"
He still replied in the negative, and being at length taken to the bridge,
they cut off his head on the balustrades, and threw both that and his
body into the river.
Paul Gamier, a protestant, beloved for his piety, had his eyes put
out, was then flayed alive, and being divided into four parts, his quar-
ters were placed on four of the principal houses of Lucerne. He bore
all his sufferings with the most exemplary patience, praised God as
long as he could speak, and plainly evinced the courage arising from
a confidence in God.
Some of the Irish troops having taken eleven men of Garcigliani
prisoners, they heated a furnace red hot, and forced them to push
each other in, till they came to the last man, whom they themselves
pushed in.
Michael Gonet,a man about 90 years old, was burned to death; Bap-
tista Oudri, another old man, was stabbed ; and Bartholomew Frasche
had his heels pierced, through which ropes being put, he was dragged
by them to the gaol, where, in consequence of his wounds mortifying,
he soon died.
PERSECUTIONS IN PIEDMONT. 165
Magdalene de la Peire, being pursued by some of the soldiers, and
taken, was cast down a precipice, and dashed to pieces. Margaret
Revella and Mary Pravillerin, two very old women, were burnt alive ;
Michael Bellino, with Bochardno, were beheaded ; Joseph Chairet,
and Paul Carniero, were flayed alive.
Cipriana Bustia being asked if he would renounce his religion, and
turn Roman Catholic, replied, " I would rather renounce life, and turn
dog :" to which a priest answered, " For that expression you shall both
renounce life and be given to the dogs." They, accordingly, dragged
him to prison, where they confined him till he perished of hunger, af-
ter which they threw his corpse into the street before the prison, and
it was devoured by dogs.
Lucy, the wife of Peter Besson, being in an advanced state of preg-
nancy, determined, if possible, to escape from such dreadful scenes as
every where surrounded her : she accordingly took two young chil-
dren, one in each hand, and set oft" towards the Alps. But on the third
day of the journey she was taken in labour among the mountains, and
delivered of an infant, who perished through the inclemency of the
weather, as did the other two children ; for all three were found dead
by her side, and herself just expiring, by the person to whom she re-
lated the above circumstances.
Francis Gross had his flesh slowly cut from his body into small
pieces, and put into a dish before him ; two of his children were
minced before his sight, while his wife was fastened to post, to behold
these cruelties practised on her husband and offspring. The tormen-
tors, at length, tired of exercising their cruelties, decapitated both hus-
band and wife.
The Sieur Thomas Margher fled to a cave, where being discovered,
the soldiers shut up the mouth, and he perished with famine. Judith
Revelin, with seven children, were barbarously murdered in their beds.
Jacob Roseno was commanded to pray to the saints, which he refu-
sing, the soldiers beat him violently with bludgeons to make him com-
ply, but he continuing steady to his faith, they fired at him. While in
the agonies of death, they cried to him, " Will you pray to the saints ?"
To which he answered, " No !" when one of the soldiers, with abroad
sword, clove his head asunder, and put an end to his sufferings.
A young woman, named Susanna Ciacquin, being attempted to be
ravished by a soldier, made a stout resistance, and in the struggle,
pushed him over a precipice, when he was dashed to pieces by the fall.
His comrades immediately fell upon her with their swords, and cut
her to atoms.
Giovanni Pullius, being apprehended as a protestant by the soldiers,
was ordered, by the Marquis Pianessa, to be executed in a place near
the convent. When brought to the gallows, several monks attended,
to persuade him to renounce his religion. But finding him inflexible,
they commanded the executioner to perform his office, which he did,
and so launched the martyr into the world of glory.
Paul Clement, an elder of the church of Rossana, being apprehended
by the monks of a neighbouring monastery, was carried to the mar-
ket-place of that town, where some protesiants had just been executed.
On beholding the dead bodies, he said calmly, '• You may kill the body,
but you cannot prejudice ihe soul of a true believer: with respect to
the dreadful sj.ectacles which you have here shown me, you may rest
166
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
assured, that God's vengeance will overtake the murderers of those
poor people, and punish them for the innocent blood they have spilt."
The monks were so exasperated at this reply, that they ordered him to
be hung up directly: and while he was hanging, the soldiers amused
themselves by shooting at the body.
Daniel Rambaut, of Villaro, the father of a numerous family, was
seized, and, with several others, committed to the gaol of Paysana.
Here he was visited by several priests, vrho, with continual importu-
nities, strove to persuade him to turn papist; but this he peremptorily
refused, and the priests finding his resolution, and enraged at his an-
swers, determined to put him to the most horrible tortures, in the hope
of overcoming his faith ; they therefore ordered one joint of his fingers
to be cut off every day, till all his fingers were gone : they then pro-
ceeded in the same manner Avith his toes ; afterwards they alternately
cut off, daily, a hand and a foot ; but finding that he bore his suflerings
with the most unconquerable fortitude, and maintained his faith with
steadfast resolution, they stabbed him to the heart, and then gave his
body to be devoured by dogs.
Peter Gabriola, a protestant gentleman, of considerable eminence
being seized by a troop of soldiers, and refusing to renounce his reli-
gion, they hung several bags of gunpowder about his body, and then
setting fire to them, blew him up.
Anthony, the son of Samuel Catieris, a poor dumb lad, and extremely
inoflfensive, was cut to pieces by a party of the troops ; and soon after
the same ruffians entered the house of Peter Moniriat, and cut off the
legs of the whole family, leaving them to bleed to death, they being
unable to assist each other in that melancholy plight.
Daniel Benech, being apprehended, had his nose slit, and his ears
cut ofl'; after which he was divided into quarters, and each quarter
hung upon a tree. Mary Monino had her jaw-bones broken, and was
then left to languish till she was starved to death.
A protestant lady, named Constantia Bellione, Was apprehended on
account of her faith, and asked by a priest if she would renounce the
devil, and go to mass ; to which she replied, " I was brought up in a
religion by which I was always taught to renounce the devil ; but
should I comply with your desire, and go to mass, I should be sure to
meet him there, in a variety of shapes." The priest was highly in-
censed at this, and told her to recant, or she should suffer cruelly.
She, however, boldly answered, " That she valued not any sufferings
he could inflict, and in spite of all the torments he could invent, she
would keep her faith inviolate." The priest then ordered slices of
her flesh to be cut off from several parts of her body. This she bore
Avith the most singular patience, only saying to the priest, " What hor-
rid and lasting torments you will sufler in hell, for the trifling and tem-
porary pains which I now endure !" Exasperated at this expression,
the priest ordered a file of musketeers to draw up and fire upon her,
by which she was soon despatched.
Judith Mandon was fastened to a stake, and sticks thrown at her
from a distance. By this inhuman treatment, her limbs were beat and
mangled in a most terrible manner. At last one of the bludgeons
striking her head, she was at once freed from her pains and her life.
Paul Genre and David Paglia, each with his son, attempting to es-
cape to the Alps, were pursued, and overtaken by the soldiers in a
PEllfeECUTIONS IN PIEDMONT. 167
large plain. Here they hunted them for their diversion, goading
them with their swords, and making them run about till they dropped
down with fatigue. When they found that their spirits were quite
exhausted, the soldiers hacked them to pieces, and left their mangled
boaies on the spot.
Michael Greve, a young man of Bobbio, was apprehended in the
town of La Torre, and being led to the bridge, was thrown over into
the river. Being an expert swimmer, he swam down the stream,
thinking to escape, but the soldiers and mob followed on both sides,
and kept stoning him, till receiving a blow on one of his temples, he
sunk and was drowned.
David Armand was forced to lay his head down on a block, when a
soldier, with a large hammer, beat out his brains. David Baridona
was apprehended at Villaro, and carried to La Torre, where, refusing
to renounce his religion, he was tormented by brimstone matches being
tied between his fingers and toes, and set hre to, and afterwards, by
having his flesh plucked off with red hot pincers, till he expired.
Giovanni Barolina, with his wife, were thrown into a pool of stag-
nant water, and compelled, by means of pitchforks and stones, to
duck down their heads till they were sufibcated with the stench.
A number of soldiers assaulted the house of Joseph Garniero, and
before they entered, fired in at the window, and shot Mrs. Garniero,
who was at that instant suckling her child. She begged them to spare
the life of the infant, Avhich they promised to do, and sent it imme-
diately to a Roman Catholic nurse. They then seized the husband,
and hanged him up at his own door, and having shot the wife through
the head, left her body weltering in its blood.
Isaiah Mondon, an aged and pious protestant, fled from the merci-
less persecutors to a cleft in a rock, where he sufiered the most dread-
ful hardships ; for, in the midst of the winter, he was forced to lie on
the bara stone without any covering ; his food was the roots he could
scratch up near his mi-serable Habitation; and the only way by which
he could procure drink, was to put snow in his mouth till it melted.
Here, however, some of the soldiers found him, and after beating
him immercifully, they drove him towards Lucerne, goading him all
the way with the points of their swords. Being exceedingly weakened
by his manner of living, and exhausted by the blows he had received,
he fell down in the road. They again beat him to make him pro^
need ; till, on his knees, he implored them to put him out of his
misery. This they at last agreed to do ; and one of them shot him
through the head, saying, " There, heretic, take thy request."
To screen themselves from danger, ?. number of men, women, and
children, fled to a large cave,wliere they continued for some weeks in
safety, two of the men going by stealth to procure provisions. These
were, however, one day watched, by which the cave was discovered,
and, soon after, a troop of Roman Catholics appeared before it. Many
of these were neighbours, and intimate acquaintances, and some even
relations to those in the cave. The protestants, therefore, came out,
and implored them, b)'- the tics of hospitality, and of blood, not to
murder them. But the bigoted wretches told them, they could not show
any mercy to heretics, and, therefore, bade them all prepare to die.
Hearing this, and knowing the obduracy of their enemies, the prot(;s-
t<ints fell on their knees, lifted their hearts to heaven, and patiently
IQg BOOK OF MARTYRS.
EAvaited Iheir fate ; which the papists soon decided, by cutting them
to pieces.
Heroic Defence of the Protestants of Roras.
The blood of the faithful being almost exhausted in all the towns
and villages of Piedmont, there remained but one place that had been
exempted from the general slaughter. This was the little common-
alty of Roras, which stood upon an eminence. Of this, one of the
duke of Savoy's officers determined, if possible, to make himself
master ; with that view, he detached three hundred men to surprise it.
The inhabitants, however, had intelligence o{ the approach of these
troops, and Captain Joshua Gianavel, a brave protectant officer, put
himself at the head of a small body of the citizens, and waited in
ambuscade, to attack the enemy in a narrow passage, the only place
by which the town could be approached.
As soon as the troops appeared, and had entered the passage, the
protestants commenced a Avell directed fire against them, and kept
themselves concealed behind bushes. A great number of the soldiers
were killed, and the rest, receiving a continual fire, and not seeing
any to whom they might return it, made a precipitate retreat.
The members of this little community immediately sent a memorial
to the marquis of Pianessa, a general officer of the duke, stating,
" That they were sorry to be under the necessity of taking up arms;
but that the secret approach of a body of troops, without any previous
notice sent of the purpose of their coming, had greatly alarmed them;
that as it was their custom never to suffer any of the military to
enter their little community, they had repelled force by force, and
should do so again ; but, in all other respects, they professed them-
selves dutiful, obedient, and loyal subjects, to their sovereign the
duke of Savoy."
The marquis, in order to delude and surprise them, answered,
' That he was perfectly satisfied with their behaviour, for they had
done right, and even rendered a service to their country, as the men
who had attempted to pass the defile were not his troops, but a band
of desperate robbers, who had, for some time, infested those parts,
and been a terror to the neighbouring country." To give a greater
colour to his treachery, he published a proclamation to the same pur-
pose, expressive of thanks to the citizens of Roras.
The very day after, however, he sent 500 men to take possession
of the town, while the people, as he thought, were lulled into secu-
rity by his artifice.
Captain Gianavel, however, was not thus to be deceive:^ ; he, there-
fore, laid a second ambuscade for these troops, and compelled them
to retire with great loss.
Foiled in these two attempts, the sanguinary marquis determined
on a third, still more formidable ; but, with his usual duplicity, he
published another proclamation, disowning any knoAvledge of the
second attempt.
He soon after sent 700 chosen men upon the expedition, who, in
spite of the fire from the protestants, forced the defile, entered Roras,
and began to murder every person they met with, Avithout distinction
of sex or age. Captain Gianavel, at the head of his friends, though he
had lost the defile, determined to dispute the passage through a for-
PERSECUTIONS IN PIKDMONT. 169
tified pass, that led to the richest and best part of the town. Here he
fiucceeded, by keeping up a continual fire, which did great execution,
his men being all good marksmen. The Roman Catholic commander
was astonished and dismayed at this opposition, as he imagined that
he had surmounted all difficulties. He, however, strove to force the
pass, but being unable to bring up only twelve men in front at a time,
and the protestants being secured by a breast-work, he saw all his
hopes frustrated.
Enraged at the loss of so many of his troops, and fearful of dis-
grace if he persisted in attempting what appeared so impracticable, he
thought it wiser to retreat. Unwilling, however, to withdraw his
men by the defile at which he had entered, on account of the danger,
he designed to retreat towards Villaro, by another pass, called Piampra,
which, though hard of access, was easy of descent. Here, however,
he again felt the determined bravery of Captain Gianavel, who having
posted his little band here, greatly annoyed the troops as they passed,
and even pursued their rear till they entered the open country.
The marquis of Pianessa, finding all his attempts baffled, and all his
artifices discovered, resolved to throw off" the mask ; and therefore
proclaimed, that ample rewards should be given to any who would
bear arms against the obdurate heretics of Roras, and that any officer
who would exterminate them, should be honoured accordingly.
Captain Mario, a bigoted Roman Catholic, and a desperate ruffian,
stimulated by this, resolved to undertake the enterprise. He, there-
fore levied a regiment of 1000 men, and Avith these he resolved to
attempt gaining the summit of a rock which commanded the town.
But the protestants, aware of his design, suffered his troops to proceed
without molestation, till they had nearly reached the summit of the
rock, when they made a most furious attack upon them ; one party
keeping up a well directed and constant fire, and others rolling down
large stones. Thus were they suddenly stopped in their career.
Many were killed by the musketry, and more by the stones, which
beat them down the precipices. Several fell sacrifices to their own
fears, for by attempting a precipitate retreat, they fell down and were
dashed to pieces ; and Captain Mario himself, having fallen from a
craggy place into a river at the foot of the rock, was taken up sense-
less, and after lingering some time, expired.
After this, another body of troops from the camp at Villaro, made
an attempt upon Roras ; but were likewise defeated, and compelled
to retreat to their camp.
Captain Gianavel, for each of these signal victories, made a suitable
discourse to his men, kneeling down with them to return thanks to
the Almighty, for his providential protection; and concluding with the
11th Psalm.
The marquis of Pianessa, now enraged to the highest degree a
being thus foiled by a handful of peasants, determined on their ex-
pulsion or destruction.
To this end he ordered all the Roman Catholic militia of Piedmont
to be called out and disciplined. To these he joined eight thousand
regular troops, and dividing the whole into three distinct bodies, he
planned three formidable attacks to be made at once, unless the peo-
ple of Roras, to whom he sent an accotmt of his great preparations,
would comply with the following conditions :
170 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
To ask pardon for taking up arms. To pay the expenses of all the
expeditions sent against them. To acknowledge the infallibility of
the pope. To go to mass. To pray to the saints. To deliver up
tlieir ministers and schoolmasters. To go to confession. To pay
loans for the delivery of souls from purgatory ; and to give up Captain
Gianavel and the elders of their church at discretion.
The brave inhabitants, indignant at these proposals, answered,
" That sooner than comply with them, they Avould suffer their es-
tates to be seized, their houses to be burnt, and themselves to be mur-
dered."
Enraged at this, the marquis sent them the following laconic
letter.
To the ohstinate Heretics of Roras.
"You shall have your request, for the troops sent against you have
strict injunctions to plunder, burn and kill.
"PlANESSA."
The three armies were accordingly put in motion, and the first at-
tack ordered to be made by the rocks of Villaro ; the second by the
pass of Bagnol; and the third by the defile of Lucerne.
As might be expected from the superiority of numbers, the troops
gained the rocks, pass, and defile, entered the town, and commenced
the most horrid depredations. Men they hanged, burnt, racked to
death, or cut to pieces ; women they ripped open, crucified, drowned,
or threw from the precipices ; and children they tossed upon spears,
minced, cut their throats, or dashed out their brains. On the first day
of their gaining the town, one hundred and twenty-six sufl^ered in this
manner.
Agreeably to the orders of the marquis, they likewise plundered the
estates, and burnt the houses of the people. Several protestants,
however, made their escape, under the conduct of the brave Giana-
vel, whose wife and children were unfortunately made prisoners, and
sent to Turin under a strong guard.
The marquis, thinking to conquer at least the mind of Gianavel,
wrote him a letter, and released a protestant prisoner, that he might
carry it to him. The contents were, that if the captain would embrace
the Roman Catholic religion, he should be indemnified for all his losses
since the commencement of the war, his wife and children should be
immediately released, and himself honourably promoted in the duke
of Savoy's army ; but if he refused to accede to the proposals made
to him, his wife and children should be put to death ; and so large a
reward should be given to take him, dead or alive, that even some ol
his own confidential friends should, from the greatness of the sum,
be tempted to betray him.
To this, Gianavel returned the following answer :
" My Lord Marquis,
"There is no torment so great, or death so cruel, that I would not
prefer to the abjuration of my religion : so that promises lose their ef-
fects, and menaces do b;.t strengthen me in my faith.
"With respect to my wife and children, my lord, nothing can be
more afilicting to me than the thoughts of their confinement, or more
PERSECUTIONS IN PIEDMONT. 171
dreadful to my imagination, than their sufTcring a violent death. I
lieenly feel all the tender sensations of a husband and parent ; I
would sufl'er any torment to rescue them ; I would die to preserve
them.
" But having said thus much, my lord, I assure you that the pur-
chase of their lives must not be the price of my salvation. You have
them in your power it is true ; but my consolation is, that your power
is only a temporary authority over their bodies : you may destroy the
mortal part, but their immortal souls are out of your reach, and will
live hereafter, to bear testimony against you for your cruellies. I
therefore recommend them and myself to God, and pray for a refor-
mation in your heart.
** Joshua Gianavel."
He then, with his followers, retired to the Alps, where, being after-
wards joined by several protestant officers, with a considerable num-
ber of fugitive protestants, they conjointly defended themselves, and
made several successful attacks upon the Roman Catholic towns and
forces ; carrying terror by the valour of their exploits, and the bold-
ness of their enterprises.
Nevertheless, the disproportion between their forces and those of
tlieir enemies was so great, that no reasonable expectations could be
entertained of their ultimate success ; which induced many protestant
princes and states, in various parts of Europe, to interest themselves
in favour of these courageous sufferers for religious and civil liberty.
Among these intercessors, the protestant cantons of Switzerland
early distinguished themselves ; and as their mediation was rejected
by the duke of Savoy, they raised considerable sums of money, by
private subscriptions, for the relief of the fugitives, and the assistance
of the brave defenders of their native valleys. Nor did they limit
their kindness to pecuniary relief; they despatched a messenger to
the United Provinces, for the purpose of procuring subscriptions, and
the interference of the Dutch government in favour of the Pied-
montese, both of which they at length obtained. They then made
another attempt to prevail on the duke of Savoy to grant his protest-
ant subjects liberty of conscience, and to restore them to their ancient
privileges ; but this, after much evasion on the part of the duke, also
failed.
But that God, whom they worshipped in purity of spirit, now raised
them up a more powerful champion in the person of Oliver Cromwell,
Lord Protector of England. This extraordinary man, however cri-
minal in the means by which he obtained power, certainly deserves
the praise of having exercised it with dignity and firmness; and if his
usurpation be censured, it must be acknowledged that he raised Eng-
land to a station among the neighbouring powders, to which it had ne-
ver before attained. From the throne which he had just seized, he
dictated to the most potent monarchs of Europe ; and never was his
influence more justly exercised, than in behalf of the persecuted pro-
testants of Piedmont. He caused subscriptions to be set on foot
throughout England in their favour ;* he sent an envoy to the court of
* They amounted in England and Wales to forty thousand pounds ; a very large
sum in those days, when the nation was exhausted and impoverished by a long ci^il
IVI
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
France, and wrote to all tlie protestant powers of Europe, to interest
them in the same good cause. He despatched an ambassador to the
court of Turin, who was received with great respect by the duke, who
pretended to justify his treatment of the Piedmontese, under the pre-
tence of their being rebellious.
But Cromwell would not suffer himself to be trifled with ; his am-
bassador gave the duke to understand, that if negotiation failed, arms
would be had recourse to ; and as the kings of Denmark and Sweden,
the Dutch government, and many of the German states, encouraged
by the example of the Protector, now came forward in the same cause,
the duke found himself under the necessity of dismissing the English
ambassador, with a very respectful message to his master, assuring
him that " the persecutions had been much misrepresented and exag-
gerated; and that they had been occasioned by his rebellious subjects
themselves : nevertheless, to show his great respect for his highness,
he would pardon them, and restore them to iheir former privileges."
This was accordingly done ; and the protestants returned to their
homes, grateful for the kindness wich had been shown to them, and
praising the name of the Lord, who is as a tower of strength to those
who put their trust in him.
During the lifetime of Cromwell, they lived in peace and security;
but no sooner had his death relieved the papists from the terror of his
vengeance, than they began anew to exercise that cruel and bigoted
spirit which is inherent in popery : and although the persecutions were
not avowedly countenanced by the court, they were connived at, and
unpunished ; insomuch that whatever injury had been inflicted on a
protestant, he could obtain no redress from the corrupted judges to
whom he applied for that protection which the laws nominally granted
to him.
At length, in the year 1686, all the treaties in favour of the protes-
tants were openly violated, by the publication of an edict, prohibiting
the exercise of any religion but the Roman Catholic, on pain of death.
The protestants petitioned for a repeal of this cruel edict : and their
petitions were backed by their ancient friends, the protestant cantons
of Switzerland, But the cries of his subjects, and the intercession of
their allies were equally unavailing ; the duke replied that " his en-
gagements with France obliged him to extirpate the heretics from
Piedmont.''
Finding applications useless, the protestants flew to arms ; and be-
ing attacked by the duke's army, and some French troops, on the 22d
of April, 1686, they, after an obstinate engagement of several hours,
obtained a complete victory, killing great numbers of the French and
Savoyards.
Exasperated by this defeat, the duke immediately collected a large
army, which he augmented with a reinforcement of French and Swiss
troops ; and was so successful in several engagements against the pro-
testants, that the latter, despairing of success, consented to lay down
their arms and quit the country, on his solemn promise of safety for
themselves, their families, and property.
No sooner were they disarmed, than the treacherous papists, acting
upon their maxim, that no faith is to be kept with heretics, massacred
a large body of them in cold blood, without distinction of age or sex:
and burnt and ravaged the country in every direction.
PERSECUTIONS IN PIEDMONT. 173
The horrors perpelrnted by these faithless and bigoted monsters,
ahnost exceed belief. We will not weary and disgust our readers
,vith the recital ; suffice it to say, that every variety of rapine, lust,
and cruelty, were exliausted by these demons in human shape. Those
protestants who were fortunate enough to escape, found an asylum in
the Swiss cantons, and in Germany, where they were treated kindly,
and lands granted to them for their residence.
The natural consequence of these horrible proceedings was, that
the fruitful valleys of Piedmont were depopulated and desolate; and
the barbarous monster, who had caused this devastation, now feeling
its ill effects, tried, by all means in his power, to draw Roman Catho-
lic families from all parts of Europe, to re-people the valleys, and to
cultivate the fields which had been blasted by the malignant breath
of bigotry.
Some of the exiles, in the meanwhile, animated by that love oj
country vfh\c\i glows with peculiar warmth in their breasts, determined
to make an attempt to regain a part of their native valleys, or to pe-
rish in the attempt. Accordingly, nine hundred of them, who had re-
sided, during their exile, near the lake of Geneva, crossing it in the
night, entered Savoy without resistance, and, seizing two villages, ob-
tained provisions, for whidi they paid, and immediately passed the
river Arve, before the duke had notice of their arrival in the country.
When he became acquainted with this, he was astonished at the
boldness of the enterprise, and despatched troops to guard the defiles
and passes ; which, however, were all forced by the protestants, and
great numbers of the Savoyard troops defeated.
Alarmed by this intellig.ence, and still more by a report that a great
body of the exiles were advancing from Brandenburg to support those
already in Savoy, and that many protestant states meant to assist them
in their attempts to regain a footing in their native country, the duke
published an edict, by which he restored them to all their former pri-
vileges.
This just and humane conduct was, hoAvever, so displeasing to that
bigoted and ferocious tyrant, Louis XIV. of France, that he sent an
order to the duke of Savoy to extirpate every protestant in his domi-
nions ; and to afesist him in the execution of this horrible project, or to
punish him if he were unwilling to engage in it, M. Catinat was des-
patched at the head of an army of 10,000 men. This insolent dictation
irritated the duke ; he determined no longer to be the slave of the French
king, and solicited the aid of the emperor of Germany, and the king
of Spain, who sent large bodies of troops to his assistance. Being
also joined, at his own request, by the protestant army, he hesitated no
longer to declare war against France ; and in the campaign which
followed, his protestant subjects were of infinite service by their va-
lour and resolution. The French troops were at length driven from
Piedmont, and the heroic protestants were reinstated in their former
possessions, their ancient privileges confirmed, and many new ones
granted to them. The exiles now returned from Germany and Swit-
zerland ; and were accompanied by many French refugees, Avhom
the cruel persecutions of Louis had driven from their native land, in
search of the toleration denied to them at home. But this infuriated
bigot, not yet glutted with revenge, insisted on their being expelled
from Piedmont ; and the Duke of Savoy, anxious for peace, was com
174 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
pelled to comply with this meixiless demand, before the French king
would sign the treaty. The wanderers, thus driven from the south of
Europe, sought and found an asylum from the hospitality of the elec-
tor of Brandenburg, and consoled themselves for the loss of a genial
climate, and a delightful country, in the enjoyment of the more sub-
stantial blessings of liberty of conscience, and security of property.
SECTION VIII.
PERSECUTIONS OF MICHAEL DE MOLINOS, A NATIVE OF SPAIN.
Michael de Molinos, a Spaniard, of a rich and noble family, enter-
ed, at an early age, into priest's orders, but would accept of no pre-
ferment in the church. His talents were of a superior class, and he
dedicated them to the service of his fellow creatures. His life was
uniformly pious ; but he did not assume those austerities so com-
mon among the religious orders of the Romish church.
Being of a contemplative turn, he pursued the track of the mysti-
cal divines, and having acquired great reputation in Spain, he became
desirous of propagating his mode of devotion, and, acco-rdingly, left
his own country, and settled in Rome. Here he soon connected him-
self with some of the most distinguished among the literati, who, ap-
proving of his religious maxims, assisted him in propagating them.
His followers soon augmented to a considerable number, and, from
the peculiarity of their doctrine, were distinguished by the name oi
Quietists.
In 1675, he published a book, entitled, II Guida Spirituale, which
soon became known, and was read, with great avidity, both in Italy
and Spain. His fame was now blazed abroad, and friends flowed in
upon him. Many letters were written to him, and a correspondence
was settled between him and those who approved of his tenets, in dif-
ferent parts of Europe. Some secular priests, both at Rome and
Naples, declared themselves openly in his favour, and consulted him
as a sort of oracle ; but those who attached themseh^es to him with
the greatest sincerity, were some, of the fathers of the Oratory, the
most eminent of whom were, Coloredi, Ciceri, and Petrucci. Many
of the cardinals also courted his friendship. Among others, was the
Cardinal d'Estrees, a man of great learning, to whom Molinos open-
ed his mind without reserve.
His reputation now began to alarm the Jesuits and Dominicans ,
they, therefore, exclaimed against him and his followers as heretics,
and published several treatises in defence of their charge, Avhich
Molinos answered with becoming spirit.
These disputes occasioned such a disturbance in Rome, that the
affair was noticed by the inquisition. Molinos and his book, and
father Petrucci, who had written some treatises and letters on the
same subject, were brought under a severe examination ; and the
Jesuits were considered as the accusers. In the course of the exami-
nation, both Molinos and Petrucci acquitted themselves so ably, that
their books were again approved, and the answers which the Jesuits
had wrtten, were censured as scandalous and unbecoming.
PERSCUTION OF THE aUIETISTS. 175
Petrucci, on this occasion, was so highly applauded, that he was
soon after made bishop of Jesis. Their books were now esteemed
more than ever, and their method Avas more followed.
Thus the great reputation acquired by Molinos and Petrucci, occa-
sioned a daily increase of the Quietists. All who were thought sin-
cerely devout, or at least affected to be so, were reckoned among the
number. These persons, in proportion as their zeal increased in
their mental devotions, appeared less careful as to the exterior parts
of the church ceremonies. They were not so assiduous at masses,
nor so earnest to procure them to be said for their friends ; nor were
they so frequently either in processions or at confession.
Notwithstanding the approbation expressed for Molinos' book by
the inquisition had checked the open hostility of his enemies, they
were still inveterate against him in their hearts, and determined, if
possible, to ruin him. They therefore secretly insinuated that he
had ill designs, and was an enemy to Christianity : that under pre-
tence of raising men to a sublime strain of devotion, he intended to
erase from their minds a sense of the mysteries of religion. And be-
cause he was a Spaniard, they gave out that he Avas a descendant from
a Jewish or Mahometan race, and that he might carry in his blood,
or in his first education, some seeds of those doctrines he had since
cultivated with no less art than zeal. *
Molinos finding himself attacked with such unrelenting malice, took
every necessary precaution to prevent its effect upon the public mind.
He wrote a treatise entitled " Frequent and Daily Communion,"
which was likewise approved of by some of the most learned of the
Romish clergy. This, with his Spiritual Guide, was printed in the
year 1675 ; and in the preface to it, he declared, that he had not writ-
ten it with any design to engage in matters of controversy, but by the
earnest solicitations of many pious people.
The Jesuits having again failed in their attempts to crush his influ-
ence at Rome, applied to the court of France, when they so far suc-
ceeded, that an order was sent to Cardinal d'Estrees, commanding him
to prosecute Molinos with all possible rigour. The cardinal, notwith-
standing his attachment to Mo'inos, resolved to sacrifice friendship
to interest. Finding, however, there was not sufiicient matter for an
accusation against him, he determined to supply that defect himself.
He therefore wont to the inquisitors, and informed them of several
particulars relative to Molinos and Petrucci, both of whom, with seve-
ral of their friends, were put into the inquisition.
On being brought before the inquisitors, (which Avas in the begin-
ning of the year 1684,) Petrucci ansAvered the questions put to him
Avith so much judgment and temper, that he Avas soon dismissed; but
Avith regard to Molinos, though the inquisition had not any just accu-
sation against him, yet they strained every nerve to find him guilty of
heresy. They first objected to his holding a correspondence in dif-
ferent parts of Europe ; but of this he Avas acquitted, as the matter of
that correspondence could not be considered as criminal. They then
directed their attention to some suspicious papers found in his cham-
ber; but he so clearly explained their meaning, that nothing could be
Avrested from them to his prejudice. At length, cardinal d'Estrees,
after producing the order sent him by the king of France, fo: prose-
cuting Molinos, said, he coul'l convince the court of his heresy. He
176 BOOK OF MARTVUS.
then proceeded to pervert the meaning of some passages in Molinos s
books and papers, and related many false and aggravating circum-
stances relative to the prisoner. He acknowledged he had lived with
him 1 nder the appearance of friendship, but that it was only to dis-
cover his principles and intentions ; that he found them to be of a bad
nature, and that dangerous consequences were likely to ensue ; but
in order to niake a full discovery, he had assented to several things,
which, in his heart, he detested ; and that, by these means, he be-
came master of all his secrets.
In consequence of this evidence, Molinos was closely confined in
the inquisition, where he continued for some time, during which pe
riod all was quiet, and his followers continued their mode of worship
without interruption. But, at the instigation of the Jesuits, a storm
suddenly broke out upon them with the most inveterate fury.
Persecution of the Quictists.
Count Vespiniani and his lady, Don Paulo Rocchi, and nearly se-
venty other persons, among Avhom were many highly esteemed both
for their learning and piety, were put into the inquisition. The accu-
sation laid against the clergy was, their neglecting to say the brevia-
ry; the rest were accused of going to communion without first attend
ing confession, and neglectiifg all the exterior parts of religion.
The Countess Vespiniani, on her examination before the inquisitors
said, that she had never revealed her method of devotion to any mor
tal but her confessor, without whose treachery it was impossible they
should knoAV it. That, therefore, it was time to give over going to
confession, if priests thus abused it, betraying the most secret thoughts
intrusted to them ; and that, for the future, she Avould only make^her
confession to God.
From that spirited speech, and the great noise made in consequence
of the countess's situation, the inquisitors thought it most prudent to
dismiss both her and her husband, lest the people might be incensed,
and what she said might lessen the credit of confession. They were,
therefore, both discharged ; but bound to appear whenever they
should be called upon.
Such Avas the inveteracy of the Jesuits against the Quietists, that
within the space of a month upwards of 200 persons, besides those al-
ready mentioned, were put into the inquisition ; and that method of
devotion, which had passed into Italy as the most elevated to which
mortals could aspire, was deemed heretical, and the chief promoters
of it confined in dungeons.
A circular letter, urging the extirpation of the Quietists, was sent,
by the inquisitors, through Cardinal Cibo, the pope's chief minister,
to the Italian bishops, but without much effect, as the greater number
of them were inclined to Molinos's method. It was intended that this,
as v/ell as all other orders from the inquisitors, should be kept secret;
but not withstanding all their care, copies of it were printed, and dis-
persed in most of the principal towns in Italy. This gave great un-
easiness to the inquisitors, who use every method they can to conceal
their proceedings from the knowledge of the world. They blamed the
cardinal, and accused him of being the cause of it ; but he retorted
on them, and his secretary laid the fault on both.
Persecutions in Venice. Page 158.
Seventy Protestants killed in coldhlood. Page 161.
King John surrendering Us crown to the Pope.
Page 189. ^
I
PERSECUTIONS IN FRANCE.
177
Sentence against Molinos.
In the mean time, Molinos suffered greatly from the officers of the
inquisition : and the only comfort he received was, being sometimes
visited by father Petrucci. Yet although he had lived in'' the highest
reputation in Rome for some years, he was now as much despised as
he had been admired. Most of his followers, who had been placed in
the mquisition, having abjured his mode, were dismissed ; but a harder
fate awaited their leader. When he had laid a considerable time
in prison, he was brought again before the inquisitors, to answer to a
number of articles exhibited against him from his writings. As soon
as he appeared in court, a chain was put around his body, and a wax-
light in his hand, when two friars read aloud the articles of accusa-
tion. Molinos answered each with great steadiness and resolution ;
and notwithstanding his arguments totally defeated the force of all,'
yet he was found guilty of heresy, and was condemned to imprison-
ment for life.
Having left the court, he was attended by a priest, who had borne
him the greatest respect. On his arrival at the prison, he entered the
cell with great tranquillity ; and on taking leave of the priest, thus
addressed him: "Adieu, father; we shall meet again at the day of
judgment and then it will appear on which side the truth is, whether
on my side or on yours."
While in confinement, he was several times tortured in the most
cruel manner, till, at length, the severity of the punishments overpow-
ered his strength, and death released him from his cruel persecutors.
The followers of Molinos were so terrified by the sufferings of their
leader, that the greater part of them soon abjured his mode ; and by
the assiduity of the Jesuits, Quietism was totally extirpated.
SECTION IX.
PERSECUTIONS OF THE PROTESTANTS IN FRANCE, DURING THE SIX-
TEENTH AND SEVENTEENTH CENTURIES.
In our sixth chapter we gave a brief account of the horrible massa-
cre in France, in 1572, in the reign of Charles IX. who has been well
entitjed, " The bloody." This inhuman tyrant dying, was succeeded
in lo74 by Henry HI. who, from political rather than religious mo-
tives, favoured the protestants, which so greatly displeased the catho-
lics, that he felt himself obliged to recal the privileges which he had
granted them. Hence arose civil dissentions, which nearly ruined
the kingdom. In 1589 Henry was assassinated by one James Cle-
ment, a fanatical priest, and was succeeded by the kinff of Navarre,
under i\ e title of Henry IV. -^ s
This prince, after struggling with his numerous enemies during se-
veral years, found it expedient to declare himself a Roman Catholic,
and tl'us to obtain the suffrages of the majority of his subjects. This
apos',acy was a severe afHiction to the faithful ; but although he aban-
don^jd his religion, and sacrificed an heavenly for an eartlily crown,
he Jid not, like many apostates, persecute the members of the church
12
175 BOOK OF MARTYRS
which he had quilted. He was, in all other respects, truly worthy of
tlie appellation of Great; a title so frequently and so unjustly bestowed
on men who sacrifice the lives and happiness of their fellow-creatures
at the shrine of their own vanity and cruelty, and deserve rather to be
execrated than admired, and regarded as demons than as demi-gods
Upon the restoration of tranquillity in his dominions, Henry applied
himself to the cultivation of the arts of peace, and by encouraging
agriculture, manufactures, and trade, laboured successfully to recover
France from the desolation and misery which thirty years of civil war
and religious persecution had brought upon her. Nor was he unmind-
ful of his ancient friends the protestant.s. By the edict of Nantes, is-
sued in 1598, he granted them a full toleration and protection in the
exercise of their religious opinions. In consequence of this, the true
church of Christ abode in peace during many years, and flourished
exceedingly.
Henry was at length assassinated, in 1610, by Ravaillac, a Jesuit,
filled with that frantic bigotry which the Roman Catholic religion has
so peculiar a tendency to inspire and to cherish.
Louis XIH. being a minor at the death of his father, the kingdom
was nominally governed by the queen-mother, but really by her minion.
Cardinal Richelieu, a man of great abilities, which were unhappily
perverted to the worst purposes. He was cruel, bigoted, tyrannical,
rapacious, and sensual ; he trampled on the civil and religious liberties
of France ; and hesitated not to accomplish his intentions by the most
barbarous and infamous methods.
The protestants at length, unable longer to endure the injuries daily
heaped upon them, resolved to take arms in defence of their religion
and their liberty. But the vigour of the cardinal defeated all their en
terprises, and Rochelle, the last fortress which remained in their pos
session, was, in 1628, after a long siege, in which the defenders were
reduced to the most horrible extremities of famine and suffering, sur-
rendered to his victorious arms. He immediately caused the walls
and fortifications to be destroyed ; and those of the garrison who sur-
vived, were either put to death by the infuriated soldiery, or condemn-
ed to the galleys for life.
After this unhappy event, although the power of the protestants was
too much broken to permit them to assert their rights in the field, and
they therefore appeared to their enemies as if crushed and extinguish-
ed, there yet remained many thousands who " refused to bow the knee
to Baal ;" their God upheld them by his gracious promises ; they knew
that He without whose orders " not even a sparrow shall perish," would
not allow his faithful servants to fall unregarded ; and they consoled
themselves with the reflection, that however they might be despised,
contemned, and persecuted on earth, they would in the end arrive at
those heavenly mansions prepared for them by their Father, where
" all tears shall be wiped from all faces ;" and where an eternity of
glorious and celestial happiness shall infinitely outweigh the tempora-
ry and trival sufferings of mortality.
During the fifty years which succeeded the reduction of Rochelle,
the protestants suffered every indignity, injustice, and cruelty, which
their barbarous persecutors could devise. They were at the mercy
of every petty despot, who, " drest in a little brief authority," wished
to gratify his malice, or signalize the season of his power by punish-
PERSECUTIONS IN FRANCE. 179
ing the heretics, and evincing his attachment to tlie infallible church
The consequences of this may easily be imagined ; every petty vexa-
tion which can render private hfe miserable, every species of plun-
der and extortion, and every m anton exertion of arbitrary power, were
employed to harass and molest the protestants of all ranks, sexes,
and ages.
At length, in 1684, the impious and blasphemous tyrant, Louis
XIV., who, in imitation of the worst Roman emperors, wished to re-
ceive divine honours, and was flattered by his abject courtiers into
the belief that he was more than human, determined to establish his
claim to the title of Ic grand, which their fulsome adulation had be-
stowed on him, by the extirpation of the heretics from his dominions.
Pretending, however, to wish for their conversion to the trve faith,
he gave them the alternative of voluntarily becoming papists, or be-
ing compelled to it.
On their refusal to apostatize, they were dragooned ; that is, the
dragoons, the most ruffianly and barbarous of his Christian majesty's
troops, were quartered upon them, with orders to live at discretion.
Their ideas of discretion may easily be conceived, and accordingly the
unhappy protestants were exposed to every species of sufi'ering, which
lust, avarice, cruelty, bigotry, and brutality, can engender in the
breasts of an ignorant, depraved, and infuriated soldiery, absolved
from all restraint, and left to the diabolical promptings of their worst
passions, whose flames Avere fanned by the assurances of the bishops,
priests, and friars, that they were fulfilling a sacred duty, by punish-
ing the enemies of God and religion !
An order was issued by the king, for the demolition of the protes-
tant churches, and the banishment of the protestant ministers. Many
other reformers were also ordered to leave the kingdom in a few days ;
and we are told by Monsieur Claude, the celebrated author of " Les
Plaintcs dcsProtestans,"' who was himself banished at this time, that
the most frivolous pretexts were employed to detain those who were
about to quit France, so that by remaining in that country beyond
the time allowed by the edict, they might be sent to the galleys as a
punishment for infringing an order which they were thus prevented
from complying with.
On the whole, more than five hundred thousand persons escaped or
were banished. And these industrious citizens, whom the blind bigot-
ry of a besotted tyrant had driven from their native land, found shelter
and protection in England, Germany, and other countries, which they
amply repaid by the introduction of many useful arts and processes:
in particular, it is to them that the people of Great Britain are indebted
for the commencement of the silk manufacture in that country.
In tlie meanwhile, those who either were purposely detained, or
were unable to escape, were condemned to the galleys ; and after be-
ing imprisoned in the most horrible dungeons, and fed only on bread
and water, and that very scantily, were marched ofi", in large bodies,
handcufied, and chained together, from one extremity of the kingdom
to another. Their sufferings during this dreadful journey were inde-
scribable. They were exposed to every vicissitude of weather, almost
without covering; and frequently, in the midst of winter, were obliged
to pass the night on the bare earth, fainting from hunger and thirst,
agonized by disease, and writhing from the lash of their merciless con-
180
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
ductors. The consequence was, that scarcely half tlie original num-
ber reached the place of their destination ; those who did, were im-
mediately exposed to new suflerings and additional calamities.
They were put on board the galleys, where they were subjected to
the absolute control of the most inhuman and barbarous wretches who
ever disgraced the human form. The labour of rowing, as performed
in the galleys, is described as being the most excessive that can be
imagined; and the sufferings of the poor slaves were increased many
fold by the scourgings inflicted on them by their savage taskmasters.
The recital of their miseries is too horrible to be dwelt upon : we shall
therefore pass to that period when the Lord, of his infinite mercy, gave
ear to the cries of his afflicted servants, and graciously raised them up
a deliverer in Anne, queen of England, who, filled Avith compassion
for the unhappy fate of so many of her fellovf protestants, ordered her
ambassador at the court of France, to make a spirited remonstrance
in their favour, which Louis, whose affairs were then in a very critical
situation, was under the necessity of complying with ; and he accord-
ingly dispatched orders to all the seaports for the immediate release
of every galley slave condemned for his religion.
When this order was received at Marseilles, where the majority of
the protestants were detained, the priests, and most particularly the
Jesuits, were much chagrined at the prospect of thus losing their
victims, and determined to use all means in their power to prevent the
order from being carried into effect. They prevailed on the intend-
oat, a violent and cruel bigot, to delay its execution for eight days,
ail they could receive an answer to an address which they imme
diately dispatched to the king, exhorting him to abandon his inten-
tion of releasing the heretics, and representing the dreadful judgments
which, they asserted, might be expected to fall on himself and his
kingdom, as the punishment of so great a dereliction from his duty as
the eldest son of the church. At least, they desired, if his majesty
were determined to release the protestants, that he would not allow
them to remain in, or even pass through, France ; but would compel
them to leave the ports by sea, and never again to enter his domi-
nions, on pain of revisiting the galleys.
Although Louis coidd not comply with the first part of the petition
of these truly papistical bigots, the latter part Avas too congenial to his
own inclinations, to be rejected. The protestants were ordered to
sail from the ports at which they had been confined ; and the difficulty
of obtaining vessels for their conveyance, which the malignant priests
used all their arts to augment, occasioned a long delay, din-ing whicJi
the poor prisoners Avere suffering all the agonies of uncertainty — that
" hope deferred, Avhich maketh the heart sick," — and Avhich led them
to fear that something might still intervene to prevent their so much
desired emancipation. But their heavenly Father, ever mindful of
those Avho sufier for his sake, at length removed every obstacle Avhich
bigotry and malice could interpose, and delivered them from the hand
of the oppressor. They Avent forth rejoicing, praising and blessing
His holy name, Avho had Avrought for ihem this great deliverance.
A deputation of those Avho had been released by the interposition of
Queen Anne, Avaited upon her majesty in London, to return their most
grateful thanks, on behalf of themselves and their brethren, for her
Christian interference in their favour. She received them verA^ gra
MARTYRDOM OF GALAS. 181
ciously, and assured them that she derived more pleasure from the con-
sciousness of having lessened the miseries of her fellow protcstants,
than from the most brilliant events of her reign.
These exiles also established themselves in England, which by their
industry and ingenuity acquired new riches every day, while France,
bv expelling them, received a blow, from which her commercial and
trading interests never recovered. Thus, even on earth, did the Al-
mighty punish the bigoted and cruel, and reward the pious and benefi-
cent. But how fearful shall be the judgment of the persecutors in that
great day when every action shall be weighed in the balance of Eter-
nal Justice ! How awful the denunciation — " Depart from me, ye
cursed ! I know you not !" Will the plea of religions zeal be then al-
lowed ? Will not the true motives of their barbarity be exposed to Him
" from whom no secret is hid ?" Undoubtedly they will ; and lament-
ably ignorant are they of the genuine spirit of Christianity, who ima-
gine that cruelty and persecution form any part of it. Let them look
to the conduct of its Divine Founder; to his meekness, his charity, his
universal benevolence ; let them consider these, and blush to call
themselves his followers ; and tremble at the doom which his justice
will award to those who have perverted his maxims of mercy and of
peace into denunciations of hostility and extirpation.
SECTION X.
MARTYRDOM OF JOHN GALAS, OF TOULOUSE.
By this interesting story, the truth of which is certified in historical
records, we have ample proof, if any were i-equisite, that the spirit of
persecution will always prevail where popery has the ascendancy.
This shocking act took place in a polished age, and proves, that nei-
ther experience nor improvement, can root out the inveterate preju-
dices of the Roman Catholics ; or render them less cruel or inexorable
to the protestants.
John Calas was a merchant of the city of Toulouse, where he had
settled, and lived in good repute ; and had married an English woman
of French extraction.
Calas and his wife were both protestants, and had five sons, whom
they educated in the same religicm ; but Lewis, one of the sons, be-
came a Roman Catholic, having been converted by a maid-servant,
who had lived in the family above thirty years. The father, however,
did not express any resentment or ill-will upon the occasion, but kept
the maid in the family, and settled an annuity upon the son. In Octo-
ber, 1761, the family consisted of John Calas and his wife, one woman
servant, Mark Anthony Calas, the eldest son, and Peter Calas, the
second son. Mark Anthony was bred to the law, but could not be
admitted to practice, on account of his being a protestant: hence he
grew melancholy, read all the books which he could procure relative
to suicide, and seemed determined to destroy himself. To this may
be added, that he led a very dissipated life, and was greatly addicted
to gaming On this account his father frequently reprehended him.
182
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
ami someiimes in terms of severity, which considerably added to the
gloom that oppressed him.
M. Gober La Vaisse, a young gentleman about nineteen years of
age, the son of a celebrated advocate of Toulouse, having been some
time at Bourdeaux, came back to Toulouse to see his father, on the
13th of October, 1761 ; but finding that he was gone to his country-
house, at some distance from the city, he went to several places, en-
deavouring to hire a horse to carry him thither. No horse, however,
was to be obtained ; and about five o'clock in the evening, he was met
by John Calas the father, and the oldest son Mark Anthony, who was
his friend. Calas, the father, invited him to supper, as he could not
set out for his father's that night, and La Vaisse consented. All three,
therefore, proceeded to Calas's house together, and when they came
thither, finding that Mrs. Calas was still in her own room, which she
had not quitted that day. La Vaisse went up to see her. After the first
compliments, he told her he was to sup with her, by her husband's in-
vitation, at which she expressed her satisfaction, and a few minutes
after left him, to give some orders to her maid. When that was done,
she went to look for her son Anthony, whom she found sitting alone
in the shop, very pensive : she gave him some money, and desired him
to go and buy some Roquefort cheese, as he was a better judge of the
quality of cheese than any other person in the family. She then re-
turned to her guest La Vaisse, who very soon after went again to the
livery-stable, to see if any horse was come in, that he might secure it
for the next morning.
In a short time Anthony returned, having bought the cheese, and
La Vaisse also coming back about the same time, the family and their
guest sat down to supper, the whole company consisting of Calas and
his wife, Anthony and Peter Calas, the sons, and La Vaisse, no other
person being in the house, except the maid-servant, who has been
mentioned already. This was about seven o'clock : the supper was
not long; but before it was over, Anthony left the table, and went
into the kitchen, (which was on the same floor) as he was accustomed
to do. The maid asked him if he was cold ? He answered, " Quite
the contrary, I burn :" and then left her. In the mean time his friend
and family left the room they had supped in, and went into a bed-
chamber ; the father and La Vaisse sat down together on a sofa ; the
younger son Peter in an elbow chair; and the mother in another
chair ; and without making any inquiry after Anthony, continued in
conversation together, till between nine and ten o'clock, when La
Vaisse took his leave, and Peter, who had fallen asleep, was awakened
to attend him with a light.
There was on the ground-floor of Calas's house, a shop and a ware-
house ; the latter of which was divided from the shop by a pair of
folding-doors. When Peter Calas and La Vaisse came down stairs
into the shop, they were extremely shocked to see Anthony hanging in
his shirt, from a bar which he had laid across the top of the two fold-
ing-doors, having half opened them for that purpose. On discovering
this horrid spectacle, they shrieked out, which brought down Calas
the father, the mother being seized with such a terror as kept her
trembling in the passage above. The unhappy old man rushed for-
ward, and taking the body in his arms, the bar to which the rope was
Jl-^siened, slipped off from the folding door of the ware house, and fell
MARTYRDOM OF GALAS. 183
down. Having placed the body on the ground, he loosed and took
off* the cord in an agony of grief and anguish not to be expressed,
weeping, trembling, and deploring his loss. The two young men,
who had not presence of mind to attempt taking down the body, were
standing by, stupid with amazement and horror. In the mean time,
tlie mother, hearing the confused cries and complaints of her husband,
and finding no one come to her, found means to get down stairs. At
the bottom she saw La Vaisse, and hastily demanded what was the
matter. This question roused Galas in a moment, and instead of an-
swering her, he urged her to go again up stairs, to which, with much
reluctance, she consented ; but the conflict of her mind being such as
could not be long borne, she sent down the maid to know what was
the matter. When the maid discovered what had happened, she con-
tinued below, either because she feared to carry an account of it to
her mistress, or because she busied herself in doing some good office
to her master, who was still embracing the body of his son, and bathing
it in his tears. The mother, therefore, being thus left alone, went
down, and mixed in the scene that has been already described, with
such emotions as it must naturally produce. In the mean time, Peter
had been sent for La Moire, a surgeon in the neighbourhood. La
Moire was not at home, but his apprentice, named Grosse, came in-
stantly. Upon examination, he found the body quite dead ; and upon
taking off" the neckcloth, which was of black taffeta, he saw the mark
of the cord, and immediately pronounced that the deceased had been
strangled. This particular had not been told, for the poor old man,
when Peter was going for La Moire, cried out, " Save at least the
honour of my family ; do not go and spread a report that your brother
has made away with himself."
A crowd of people, by this time, were gathered about the house,
and one Casing, with another friend or two of the family, had come
in. Some of those who were in the street had heard the cries and
exclamations within, but knew not the occasion ; and having, by some
means, heard, that Anthony Calas was suddenly dead, and that the sur-
geon, who had examined the body, declared he had been strangled,
they took it into their heads he had been murdered ; and as the family
were protestants, they presently supposed that the young man was
about to change his religion, and had been put to death for that rea-
son. The cries they had heard they fancied were those of the de-
ceased, while he was resisting the violence done to him. The tumult
in the street increased every moment ; some said that Anthony Calas
was to have abjured the next day ; others, that protestants are bound,
by their religion, to strangle, or cut the throats of their children, when
they are incHned to become catholics. Others, who had found out
that La Vaisse was in the house when the accident happened, very
confidently affirmed, that the protestants, at their last assembly, ap-
pointed a person to be their common executioner upon these occa-
sions, and that La Vaisse was the man, who, in consequence of the
office to Avhich he had been appointed, had come to Calas's house to
hang his son.
Now, the poor father, who was overwhelmed with grief for the loss
of his child, was advised by his friends to send for the officers of jus-
tice, to prevent his being torn to pieces by the ignorant and bigoted
mob A messenger was accordingly despatched to the capitoul, or
]S4 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
liist magistrate of the place ; and another to an inferior officer, called
an assessor. The capitoul had ah-eady set out, having been alarmed
by the rumour of a murder. He entered Calas's house with forty
soldiers, took the father, Peter the son, the mother. La Vaisse, and the
maid, all into custody, and set a guard over them. He sent for M.
de la Tour, a physician, and M. la Marque and Perronet, surgeons,
who examined the body for marks of violence, but found none except
the mark of the ligature on the neck ; they found also the hair of the
deceased done up in the usual manner, perfectly smooth, and without
the least disorder ; his clothes were also regularly folded up, and laid
upon the counter, nor was his shirt either unbuttoned or torn.
The capitoul, notwithstanding these appearances, thought proper to
agree with the opinion of the mob, and took it into his head that old
Galas had sent for La Vaisse, telling him he had a son to be hano-ed ;
that La Vaisse had come to perform the office of executioner ; and
that he had received assistance from the father and brother.
On account of these notions the capitoul ordered the body of the
deceased to be carried to the town-house, with the clothes. The
father and son were thrown into a dark dungeon ; and the mother. La
Vaisse, the maid, and Casing, were imprisoned in one that admitted
the light. The next day, what is called the verbal process was taken
at the town-house instead of the spot where the body was found, as
the law directs, and was dated at Calas's house, to conceal the irregu-
larity. This verbal process is somewhat like the coroner's inquest in
England ; witnesses are examined, and the magistrate makes his re-
port similar to the verdict of a coroner's jury in England. The wit-
nesses examined by the capitoul were, the physician and surgeon,
who proved Anthony Calas to have been strangled. The surgeon
having been ordered to examine the stomach of the deceased, de-
})osed also, that the food Avhich was found there had been taken four
hours before his death. Finding that no proof of the murder could
be procured, the capitoul had recourse to a inonitory, or general in-
formation, in which the crime was taken for granted, and all persons
were required to give such testimony against it as they were able,
particularizing the points to which they were to speak. This re-
cites, that La Vaisse was commissioned by the protestants to be their
executioner in ordinary, when any of their children were to be
hanged for changing their religion ; it recites also, that when the
protestants thus hang their children, they compel them to kneel, and
one of the interrogatories was, whether any person had seen An-
thony Calaf kneel before his father when he strangled him; it recites
likewise, that Anthony died a Roman Catholic, and requires evidence
of his Catholicism.
These ridiculous opinions being adopted and published by the prin-
cipal magistrate of a considerable city, the church of Geneva thought
itself obliged to send an attestation of its abhorrence of opinions so
abominable and absurd, and of its astonishment that they should be
suspected of such opinions by persons whose rank and office re-
quired them to have more knowledge, and better judgment.
However, before this monitory was published, the mob had got a
notion, that Anthony Calas was the next day to have entered into the
fraternity of the White Penitents. The capitoul immediately adopt-
ed this opinion also, without the least examination, and ordered An
MARTYRDOM OF CALAS. 186
Ihony's buJy to be buried in the middle of St. Stepnen's cliurch,
Avhich was accordingly done; forty priests, and all the white peni-
tents, assisting in the funeral procession.
A short time after the interment of the deceased, the white peni-
tents performed a solemn service for him in their chapel ; the church
was hung with white, and a tomb was raised in the middle of it, on
the top of which was placed a human skeleton, holding in one hand
a paper, on which was written, " Abjuration of heresy," and in the
other a palm, the emblem of martyrdom.
The Franciscans performed a service of the same kind for him the
next day ; and it is easy to imagine how much the minds of the
people were inflamed by this strange folly of their magistrates and
priests.
Still the capitoul continued the prosecution with unrelenting seve-
rity ; and though the grief and distraction of the family, when he
first came to the house, were alone sufficient to have convinced any
reasonable being that they were not the authors of the event which
they deplored, yet having publicly attested that they were guilty, in
his monitory, without proof, and no proof coming in, he thought fit
to condemn the unhappy father, mother, brother, friend, and servant,
to the torture, and put them all into irons, on the 18th of November.
Casing was released, upon proof that he was not in Calas's house till
after Anthony was dead.
From these dreadful proceedings the sufferers appealed to the par-
liam.ent, which immediately took cognizance of the aflair, and annull-
ed t!ie sentence of the capitoul as irregular ; but the prosecution still
continued.
As soon as the trial came on, the hangman, who had been taken to
Calas's house, and shown the folding doors, and the bar, deposed,
that it was impossible Anthony should hang himself, as was pre-
tended. Another witness swore, that he looked through the key-hole
of Calas's door into a room, where he saw men running hastily to and
fro. A third swore, that his wife had told him, a woman named
Mandrill had told her, that a certain woman unknown had declared,
she heard the cries of Anthony Calas at the further end of the city.
From this absurd evidence the majority of the parliament were of
opinion, that the prisoners were guilty, and, therefore, ordered them
to be tried by the criminal court of Toulouse.
There was among those who presided at the trial, one La Borde,
who h-ad zealously espoused the popular prejudices ; and though it
,vas manifest to demonstration, that the prisoners were either all in-
nocent, or all guilty, he voted that the father should first sufier the
torture, ordinary and extraoidinary, to discover his accomplices, and
be then broken alive upon the wheel ; to receive the last stroke when
he had lain two hours, and then to be burnt to ashes. In this opi-
nion he had the concurrence of six others ; three were for the
torture alone ; two were of opinion, that they should endeavour to
ascertain on the spot whether Anthony could hang himself or not ;
and one voted to acquit the prisoner. After long debates the majo-
rity was for the torture and wheel, and probably condemned the father
bj way of experiment, whether he was guilty or not, hoping lie
would, in the agony, confess the crime, and accuse the other prisoners,
whose fate, therefore, they suspended. It is, however, certain, that
ISG BOOK OF MARTYRS.
if they had evidence against the father that would have justified the
sentence they pronounced against him, that very evidence would
have justified the same sentence against the rest ; and that they
could not justly condemn him alone, they being all in the house
together when Anthony died.
However, poor Calas, who was 68 years of age, was condemned
to this dreadful punishment. He suffered the torture with great con-
stancy, and was led to execution in a frame of mind which excited
respect and admiration.
Father Bourges, and Father Coldagues, the two Dominicans, who
attended him in his last moments, wished their latter end might be
like his, and declared that they thought him not only wholly innocent
of the crime laid to his charge, but an exemplary instance of true
Christian patience, charity, and fortitude.
He gave but one shriek Avhen he received the first stroke ; after
which he uttered no complaint. Being at length placed on the wheel
to wait for the moment which was to end his life and his misery
together, he declared himself full of an humble hope of a glorious
immortaUty, and a compassionate regard for the judges who had con-
demned him. When he saw the executioner prepared to give him
the last stroke, he made a fresh declaration of his innocence to
Father Bourges ; but while the words were yet in his mouth, the capi-
toul, the author of the catastrophe, and who came upon the scaffold
merely to gratify his desire of being a witness of his punishment and
death, ran up to him, and bawled out, " Wretch, there are the fagots
which are to reduce your body to ashes ; speak the truth." M. Calas
made no reply, but turned his head a little aside, and that moment
the executioner did his office.
Donat Calas, a boy of fifteen years of age, the youngest son of the
unfortunate victim, was apprentice to a merchant at Nismes, when
he heard of the dreadful punishment by which seven prejudiced
judges of Toulouse had put his worthy father to death.
So violent was the popular outcry against the family in Languedoc,
that every body expected to see the children of Calas broke upon the
wheel, and the mother burnt alive. So weak had been the defence
made by this innocent family, oppressed by misfortunes, and terrified
at the sight of lighted piles, racks, and wheels. Young Donat Calas,
dreading to share the fate of the rest of his family, was advised to fly
into Switzerland. He did so, and there found a gentleman, who, at
first, could only pity and relieve him, without daring to judge ot
the rigour exercised against his father, mother, and brothers. Shortly
after, one of the brothers, who was only banished, likewise threw
himself into the arms of the same person, who, for more than a month,
took all possible means to be assured of the innocence of this family.
But when he was once convinced, he thought himself obliged, in con-
science, to employ his friends, his purse, his pen, and his credit, to
repair the fatal mistake of the seven judges of Toulouse, and to
have the proceedings revised by the king's council. This revision
lasted three years, and, at the end of that time, fifty maeters of the
Court of Requests unanimously declared the whole family of Calas
innocent, and recommended them to the benevolent justice of his
majesty. The Duke de Choiseul, who ne"er let slip an opportunity
of signalizing the greatness of his character, not only assisted this
PAPAL USURPATIONS. 187
unfortunate family with money from his own pur?-}, but obtained for
them a gratuity of 36,000 livres from the king.
The arret which justified the family of Calas, and changed their
fate, was signed on the 9th of March, 1705. The 9th of March,
1762, \vas the very day on which the innocent and virtuous father oi
the family had been executed. All Paris ran in crowds to see them
come out of the prison, and clapped their hands for joy, wkile the
tears streamed down their cheeks.
BOOK VIII.
CONTAINING A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION, AND THE
REMARKABLE CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH PRECEDED IT, FROM THE
TIME OF WICKLIFFE TO THE REIGN OF QUEEN MARY.
SECTION I.
PARTICULARS RELATIVE TO THE GREAT ASCENDANCY OF THE POPES
THROUGHOUT CHRISTENDOM, IN THE MIDDLE AGES.
The year 606 marks the date of the supremacy of the Roman
Pontiffs. From this period till the tenth century, the power and influ- .
ence of the Roman hierarchy continued gradually to increase and
extend ; but from this latter date, till the reformation which was at-
tempted by WicklifTe, about the year A. D. 1350, that power and influ-
ence extended with more rapid strides, till at length all the sovereigns
of Europe were compelled to do homage to the lordly sway of his
"Holiness."
To relate the tyrannical innovations upon the religion of Christ from
the tenth to the middle of the thirteenth century, would be incompati-
ble with our limits.
Suffice it to say, that scarcely a foreign war or civil broil convul-
sed Europe during that period, which did not originate in the artifices
of popes, monks, and friars. They frequently fell victims to their
own machinations ; for, from the year 1004, many popes died violent
deaths : several were poisoned ; Sylvester was cut to pieces by his
own people; and the reigns of his successors were but short. Bene-
dict, who succeeded John XXI. thought proper to resist the Emperor
Henry III. and place in his room Peter, king of Hungary ; but af-
terwards, being alarmed by the success of Henry, he sold his seat to
Gratianus, called Gregory VI. At this time there were three popes
in Rome, all striving against each other for the supreme power, viz.
Benedict IX. Sylvester III. and Gregory VI. But the Emperor
Henry coming to Rome, displaced these three monsters at once, and
appointed Clement the Second, enacting that henceforth no bishop of
Rome should be chosen but by the consent of the emperor. Though
this law was necessary for public tranquillity, yet it interfered too
J88 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
much with the ambitious views of the cardinals, who accordingly ex-
«u-ted themselves to get it repealed: and faiHng in this, on the depar-
ture of the emperor for Germany, they poisoned Clement, and at
once violated the law by choosing another pope, without the imperial
sanction.
This was Da/riasus II. who being also poisoned, within a few^ days
from his appointment, much contention took place. Whereupon the
Romans sent to the emperor, desiring him to give them a bisliop ; up-
on which he selected Bruno, a German, called Leo IX. This pope
was also poisoned, in the first year of his popedom.
After his death, Theophylactus made an effort to be pope, but Hil-
debrand, to defeat him, went to the emperor, and persuaded him to as-
sign another bishop, a German, who ascended the papal chair under
the title of Victor II.
The second year of his papacy, this pope also followed his prede-
cessors, like them being poisoned.
On the death of Victor, the cardinals elected Stephen IX. for pope,
contrary to their oath, and the emperor's assignment. From this pe-
riod, indeed, their ascendancy was so great, that the most powerful
sovereigns of Europe were obliged to do them homage: and Nicholas,
Avho succeeded Stephen, established the council of the Lateran.
In this council first was promulgated the terrible sentence of excom-
munication against all such as " do creep into the seat of Peter, by
money or favour, without the full consent of the cardinals;" cursing
them and their children with the anger of Almighty God; and giving
authority and power to cardinals, with the clergy and liity, to depose
all such persons, and call a council general, wheresoever they will,
against them.
Pope Nicholas only reigned three years and a half, and then, like
his predecessors, Avas poisoned.
Submissio7i of the Emperor Henry IV. to the Pope.
To such a height had papal insolence now attained, that, on the
Emperor Henry IV. refusing to submit to some decrees of Pope Gre-
gory VII. the latter excommunicated him, and absolved all his subjects
from their oath of allegiance to him ; on this he was deserted by his
nobility, and dreading the consequences, though a brave man, he
found it necessary to make his submission. He accordingly repaired
to the city of Canusium, where the pope then was, (A. D. 1077,) and
went barefooted with his wife and child to the gate ; Avhere he re-
mained from morning to night, fasting, humbly desiring absolution,
and craving to be let in. But no ingress being given him, he continued
thus three days together ; at length, answer came that his holiness
had yet no leisure to talk with him. The emperor patiently waited
without the walls, although in the depth of winter. At length his
request was granted, through the entreaties of Matilda, the pope's
paramour. On the fourth day, being let in, for a token of his true
repentance, he yielded to the pope's hands his crown, and confessed
himself unworthy of the empire, if he ever again offended against
the pope, desiring for that time to be absolved and forgiven. The
pope answered, he would neither forgive him, nor release the bond oi
his excommunication, but upon condition that he would abide by his
arbitrament in the council, and undergo such penance as lie should en-
FAPAL USURPATIONS. 15^
join him ; that he shoiihl answer to all objections and accusations laid
against him, and that he should never seek revenge; that it should be
at the pope's pleasure, whether his kingdom should be restored or
not Finally, that before the trial of his cause, he should neither use
his kingly ornaments, nor usurp the authority to govern, nor exact
any oath of allegiance from his subjects, &c. These things being
promised to the pope by an oath, the emperor only was released from
excommunication.
King John surrenders his Crown to the Pope.
The ascendancy of the popes was never more fully evinced than by
a remarkable fact in the history of England. King John, havino- in-
curred the hatred of his barons and people by his cruel and tyranni-
cal measures, they took arms against him, and offered the crown to
Louis, son of the French king. By seizing the possessions of the
clergy, John had also fallen under the displeasure of the pope, who
accordingly laid the kingdom under an interdict, and absolved his
subjects from their allegiance. Alarmed at this, the tyrant earnestly
sued for peace with his holiness, hoping, by his mediation, to obtain
favourable terms from the barons, or, by his thunders, to terrify them
into submission. He made the most abject supplications, and the
pope, ever willing to increase the power of the church, sent cardinal
Fandulf as legate to the king at Canterbury; to whom John resign-
ed his crown and dominions ; and the cardinal, after retaining the
crown five days, in token of possession, returned it to the king, on
condition of his making a yearly payment of 1000 marks to the court
of Rome, and holding the dominions of England and Ireland in farm
from the pope.
B Jt if John expected any benefit from this most disgraceful transac-
tion, he was disappointed ; and instead of enjoying the crown which
he had so basely surrendered and received again, the short remainder
of his life was disturbed by continual insurrections, and heat last died,
either of grief or by poison, administered to him by amonk of Swines-
head in Lincolnshire. The latter cause is assigned by many historians,
and we are told that the king, suspecting some fruit which was pre-
sented to him at the above convent, to be poisoned, ordered the monk
who brought it, to eat of it ; which he did, and died in a {ew hours after.
An Emperor trodden on hy the Pope.
The papal usurpations were extended to every part of Europe. In
Germany, the Emperor Frederic was compelled to submit to be trod-
den under the feet of Pope Alexander, and dared not make any resist-
ance. In England, however, a spirit of resentment broke out in vari-
ous reigns, in consequence of the oppressions and horrible conduct of
those anti-christian blasphemers, which continued with more or less
violence till the time of the great Wickliffe, of whom we shall speak
more fully in the following pages.
190 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
SECTION II.
ACCOUNT OF WICKLIFFE, AND OF THE MARTYRS WHO SUFFERED IN
DEFENCE OF HIS DOCTRINES.
The first attempts made in England towards the reformation of
the church, took place in the reign of Edward III. about A. D. 1350,
when John Wickliffe appeared. This early star of the English church
was public reader of divinity in the university of Oxford, and, by the
learned of his day, was accounted deeply versed in theology, and all
kinds of philosophy. At the time of his appearance, the greatest
darkness pervaded the church. Scarcely any thing but the name of
Christ remained ; his true doctrine being as far unknown to the most
part, as his name was common to all. As to faith, consolation, the
end and use of the law, the office of Christ, our impotency and weak-
ness, the greatness and strength of sin, of true works, grace, and free
justification by faith, wherein Christianity consists, they were either
unknov/n or disregarded. Scripture learning, and divinity, were
known but to a (ew, and that in the schools only, where they were
turned and converted into sophistry. Instead of Peter and Paul, men
occupied their time in studying Aquinas and Scotus ; and, forsaking
the lively power of God's spiritual word and doctrine, were altoge-
ther led and blinded with outward ceremonies and human traditions,
insomuch that scarcely any other thing was seen in the churches,
taught or spoken of in sermons, or intended or sought after in their
whole lives, but the heaping up of ceremonies upon ceremonies ; and
the people were taught to worship no other thing but that which they
saw, and almost all they saw they worshipped. But Wickliffe was
inspired with a purer sense of religion ; and knowing it to be his duty
to impart the gracious blessing to others, he published his belief
with regard to the several articles of religion, in which he differed
from the common doctrine. Pope Gregory XI. hearing this, con-
demned some of his tenets, and commanded the archbishop of Can-
terbury, and the bishop of London, to oblige him to subscribe the con-
demnation of them ; and in case of refusal, to summon him to Rome.
This commission could not easily be executed, Wickliffe having pow-
erful friends, the chief of whom was John of Gaunt, duke of Lancas-
ter, son of Edward III. The archbishop holding a synod at St. Paul's,
Wickliffe appeared, accompanied by the duke of Lancaster and Lord
Percy, marshal of England, when a dispute arising Avhether Wickliffe
should answer sitting or standing, the duke of Lancaster proceeded to
threats, and treated the bishop with very little ceremony. The people
present, thinking the bishop in danger, sided with him, so that the
duke and the earl marshal thought it prudent to retire, and to take
Wickliffe with them. After this an insurrection ensued, the clergy
and their emissaries spreading a report that the duke of Lancaster
had persuaded the king to take away the privileges of the city of Lon-
don, &,c. which fired the people to such a degree, that they broke
open the Marshalsea, and freed all the prisoners ; and not contented
with this, a vast number of them went to the duke's palace in the Sa-
voy, when, missing his person, they plundered his house. For this
outrage the duke of Lancaster caused the lord mayor and aldermen
SCHISM IN THE COURT OF ROME. 191
to be removed from their offices, imagining they had not used theii
authority to quell the mutineers. After this, the bishops meeting a
second time, Wickliffe explained to them his sentiments with regard
to the sacrament of the eucharist, in opposition to the belief of the pa-
pists ; for which the bishops only enjoined him silence, not daring,
at that time, to proceed to greater extremities against him.
Great Schism in the Chiirch of Rome.
A circumstance occurred at this period, by the providence of God,
which greatly tended to faciliate the progress of truth. This was a
great schism in the church of Rome, which originated as follows : Af
ter the death of Gregory XI. who expired in the midst of his anxiety
to crush Wicklifte and his doctrines. Urban the Sixth succeeded to
the papal chair. This pope was so proud and insolent, and so intent
on the advancement of his nephews and kindred, which he frequently
accomplished by injuring other princes, that the greatest number of
his cardinals and courtiers deserted him, and set up another pope
against him, named Clement, who reigned eleven years. After him
Benedict the Thirteenth, who reigned twenty-six years. Again, on
the contrary side, after Urban the Sixth, succeeded Boniface the Ninth,
Innocent the Eighth, Gregory the Twelfth, Alexander the Fifth, and
John the Thirteenth. To relate all the particulars of this miserable
schism, would require volumes ; we shall merely take notice of a few
of the principal occurrences, from Avhich the reader may form an idea
of the bloodshed and misery brought on the Christian world by the am-
bition and wickedness of these pretended representatives of our
blessed Saviour ; and may judge how widely they departed from his
blessed maxims of peace and good will to all men. Otho, duke of
Brunswick and prince of Tarentum, was taken and murdered. Joan,
iiis wife, queen of Jerusalem and Sicily, who had sent to pope Urban,
besides other gifts, 40,000 ducats in gold, was afterwards, by his
order, committed to prison, and there strangled. Many cardinals
were racked, and tortured to death ; battles were fought between the
rival popes, in which great multitudes were slain. Five cardinals
were beheaded together, after long torments. The bishop of Aqui-
lonensis, being suspected by Pope Urban, for not riding faster when in
his company, was slain on the spot by the pope's order. Thus did
these demons in human form torment each other for the space of thir-
ty-nine years, until the council of Constance.
Wickliffe translates the Bible.
Wickliffe, paying less regard to the injunctions of the bishops than
to his duty to God, continued to promulgate his doctrines, and gradu-
ally to unveil the truth to the eyes of men. He wrote several books,
which, as may be supposed, gave great alarm and offence to the clergy.
But God raising him up a protector in the duke of Lancaster, he was
secure from their malice. He translated the Bible into English, which,
amidst the ignorance of the times, may be compared to the sun break-
ing forth in a dark night. To this Bible he prefixed a bold preface,
wherein he reflected on the immoralities of the clergy, and condemn-
ed the worship of saints, images, and the corporal presence of Christ
in the sacrament ; but what gave the greatest offence to the priests,
was his exhorting all people to read the scriptures, in which the tes-
timonies against all those corruptions appeared so strongly.
192
BUUll. OF MARTYKS.
About the same time the common people, goaded to desperation by
the oppressions of the nobility and clergy, rose in arms, and commit-
ted great devastations ; and, among other persons of distinction, they
put to death Simon of Sudbury, archbishop of Canterbury. He was
succeeded by William Courtney, who was no less diligent than his
predecessor had been, in attempting to root out heretics. Notwith-
standing all opposition, however, Wickliffe's sect increased, and daily
grew to greater force, until the time that William Barton, vice-chan-
cellor of Oxford, Avho had the whole rule of that university, assisted
by some monastic doctors, issued an edict, prohibiting all persons,
under a heavy penalty, from associating themselves with any of
Wickliffe's favourers ; and threatening Wicklifle himself with excom-
munication and imprisonment, unless he, after three days canonical
admonition or warning, did repent and amend. Upon this, Wicklifle
wished to appeal to the king ; but the duke of Lancaster forbade him ;
whereupon he was forced again to make confession of his doctrine ;
in which confession, by qualifying his assertions, he mitigated the
rigour of his enemies.
Still his followers greatly multiplied. Many of them, indeed, were
not men of learning ; but being wrought upon by the conviction of
plain reason, they were the more steadfast in their persuasion. In a
short time his doctrines made a great progress, being not only es-
poused by vast numbers of the students of Oxford, but also by many
of the nobility, particularly by the duke of Lancaster and Lord Percy,
earl marshal, as before meniioned.
Wicklifle may thus be considered as the great founder of the refor-
mation in England. He was of Merton College in Oxford, where he
took his doctor's degree, and became so eminent for his fine genius
and great learning, that Simon Islip, archbishop of Canterbury, hav-
ing founded Canterbury College, now Christ Church, in Oxford, ap-
pointed him rector ; which employment he filled with universal ap
probation, till the death of the archbishop. Langholm, successor to
Islip, being desirous of favouring the monks, and introducing them
into the college, attempted to re?^iove WickliflTe, and put Woodhall, a
monk, in his place. But the fellows of the college, being attached to
Wicklifle, would not consent to this. Nevertheless, the affair being
carried to Rome, Wicklifle was deprived in favour of Woodhall. This
did not at all lessen the reputation of the former, every one perceiving
it was a general affair, and that the monks did not so much strike at
Wickliffe's person, as at all the secular priests who were members of
the college. And, indeed, they were all turned out, to make room for
the monks. Shortly after, Wickliffe was presented to the living of
Lutterworth, in the county of Leicester, where he remained unmo-
lested till his death, which happened December 31, 1385. But after
the body of this good man had lain in the grave forty-one years, his
bones were taken up by the decree of the synod of Constance, pub-
licly burnt, and his ashes thrown into a river. The condemnation of
his doctrine did not prevent its spreading all over the kingdom, and
with such success, that, according to Spelman, '• two men could not
be found together, and one not a Lollard, or Wickliffite."
Burning of the Wickliffiles.
In the council of Lateran, a decree was made with regard to here
IV. waiting for admission to Pope G-regory.
Page 188.
Pope Alexander treading on the neck of the Empe ■
ror Frederick. Page 189.
IIHEr^^^H
^M
1
MI^^^^^^Mgffl^lPfi
i
1
nr!C
li^s
Cursing a Heretic. Pa^e 253.
BURNING OF THE WICKLIFFITES. 193
tic9, which required all magistrates to extirpate them upon pain of
Ibrleiture and deposition. The canons of this council being received
m England, the prosecution of the heretics became a part of the com-
mon law ; and a writ (styled de heretico comburendo) was issued under
King Henry IV. for burning them upon their conviction ; and it was
enacted, that all who presumed to preacli without the license of thr;
bishops, should be imprisoned, and brought to trial within three
months. If, upon conviction, they offered to abjure, and were not re-
lapses, they were to be imprisoned, and fined at pleasure ; but if thev
refused to abjure, or were relapses, they were to be delivered over to
the secular arm, and the magistrates were to burn them in some pub-
he place. About this time, William Sautre, parish priest of St. Osith,
in London, being condemned as a relapse, and degraded by Arundel,
archbishop of Canterbury, a writ was issued, wherein burning is call-
ed the common punishment, and referring to the customs of other
nations. This was the first example of that sort in England.
The clergy, alarmed lest the doctrines of WicklifTe should ultimately
become established, used every exertion in their power to check
them. In the reign of Richard II. the bishops had obtained a general
license to imprison heretics, without being obliged to procure a spe-
cial order from court, which, however, the house of commons caused
to be revoked. But as the fear of imprisonment coidd not check the
pretended evil dreaded by the bishops, Henry IV. whose particular ob-
ject was to secure the aftection of the clergy, earnestly recommended
to the parliament the concerns of the church. How reluctant soever
the house of commons might be to prosecute the Lollards, the credit
of the court, and the cabals of the clergy, at last obtained a most de-
testable act for the burning of obstinate heretics ; which bloody
statute was not repealed till the year 1677. It was immediately after
the passing of this statute, that the ecclesiastical court condemned
William Sautre, abovementioned
Increase of Wickliffe's Doctrine.
Notwithstanding the opposition of the popish clergy, Wickliffe's-
doctrine continued to spread greatly in Henry the IVth's reign, even
to such a degree, that the majority of the house of commons were
inclined to it ; whence they presented two petitions to the kino-, one
against the clergy, the other in favour of the Lollards. The fi?st set
forth, that the clergy made ill use of their wealth, and consumed their
income. in a manner quite different from the intent of the donors.
That their revenues were excessive, and, consequently, that it would
be necessary to lessen them ; that so many estates might easily be
seized as would provide for 150 earls at the rate of 3000 marks a year
each, 1500 barons at 100 marks each, 6200 knights at 40 marks, and
100 hospitals; that by this means the safety of the kingdom might be
better provided for, the poor better maintained, and the clergy'more
devoted to their duty. In the second petition the commons ''praved.
that the statute passed against the Lollards, in the second year of
this reign, might be repealed, or qualified with some restrictions. As
It was the king's interest to please the clergy, he answered the com-
mons very sharply, that he neither could nor would consent to their
petitions. And with regard to the Lollards, he declared he wished
13
194 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
the heretics were extirpated out of the land. To prove the truth of
this, he signed a Avarrant for burning Thomas Badby.
Martyrdom of Thomas Badby.
Thomas Badby was a layman, and by trade a tailor. He was ar-
raigned in the year 1409 before the bishop of Worcester, and convict-
ed of heresy. On his examination he said, that it was impossible any
priest could make the body of Christ sacramentally, nor would he be-
lieve it, unless he saw, manifestly, the corporeal body of the Lord to
be handled by the priest at the altar ; that it was ridiculous to imagine
that at the supper Christ held in his own hand his own body, and
divided it among his disciples, and yet remained whole. " I believe,"
said he, " the omnipotent God in trinity; but if every consecrated
host at the altars be Christ's body, there must then be in England no
less than 20,000 gods." After this he was brought before the arch-
bishop of Canterbury at St. Paul's church, and again examined in
presence of a great number of bishops, the duke of York, and several
of the first nobility. Great pains were used to make him recant ; but
he coiu'ageously answered, that he would still abide by his former
opinions, which no power should force him to forego. On this the
archbishop of Canterbury ratified the sentence given by the bishop of
Worcester. When the king had signed the warrant for his death, he
was brought to Smithfield, and there being put in an empty tun, was
bound with iron chains fastened to a stake, and had dry wood piled
around him. As he was thus standing in the tun, it happened that the
prince of Wales, the king's eldest son, was there present ; who, being
moved with compassion, endeavoured to save the life of him Avhom
the hypocritical Levites and Pharisees sought to put to death. He
admonished and counselled him, that having respect unto himself, he
should speedily withdraw himself out of these dangerous labyrinths
of opinions, adding oftentimes threatenings, which might have
daunted any man not supported by the true faith. Also Courtney,
at that time chancellor of Oxford, preached unto him, and informed
him of the faith of the holy church.
In the mean time, the prior of St. Bartholomew's, in Smithfield,
brought with all solemnity the sacrament of God's body, with twelve
torches borne before, and showed the sacrament to the poor man at
the stake. And then they demanded of him how he believed in it; he
answered, that he knew well it was hallowed bread, and not God's
body. And then was the tun put over him, and fire put unto him.
And when he felt the fire, he cried, " Mercy !" (calling upon the
Lord,) when the prince immediately commanded to take away the tun,
and quench the fire. He then asked him if he would forsake heresy,
and take the faith of holy church, which, if he would do, he should
have goods enough, promising him also a yearly pension out of the
king's treasury. But this valiant champion of Christ, neglecting the
prince's fair words, as also contemning all men's devices, refused the
offer of worldly promises, being more inflamed by the spirit of God,
than by any earthly desire. Wherefore, as he continued immoveable
in his former mind, the prince commanded him straight to be put again
into the tun, and that he should not afterwards look for any grace or
favour. But as he could be allured by no rewards, he was not at all
abashed at their torments,but, as a valiant soldier of Christ, persevered
SIR JOHN OLDCASTLE. 195
invincibly till liis body was reduced to ashes, and his soul rose trium-
phant unto him who gave it.
Martyrdom of Sir John Oldcastle.
The persecutions of the Lollards in the reign of Henry V. were
owing to the cruel instigations of the clergy, who thouglit that the.
most effectual way to check the progress of Wicklifle's doctrine, would
be to attack the then chief protector of it, viz. Sir John Oldcastle, ba
ron of Cobham ; and to persuade the king that the Lollards were en-
gaged in conspiracies to overturn the state. It was even reported,
that they intended to murder the king, together with the princes, his
brothers, and most of the lords spiritual and temporal, in hopes that
the confusion which must necessarily arise in the kingdom, after such
a massacre, would prove favourable to their religion. Upon this a
false rumour was spread, that Sir John Oldcastlehad got together 20,000
men in St. Giles's in the Fields., a place then overgrown with bushes.
The king him.self went thither at midnight, and finding no more than
fourscore or a hundred persons, who were privately met upon a reli-
gious account, he fell upon them and killed many. Some of them be-
ing afterwards examined, were prevailed upon, by promises or threats,
to confess whatever their enemies desired \ and these accused Sir
John Oldcastle.
The king hereupon thought him guilty ; and in that belief set a thou-
sand marks upon his head, with a promise of perpetual exemption
liom taxes to any town which should secure him. Sir John was ap-
prehended and imprisoned in the Tower ; but escaping from thence,
he fled into Wales, where he long concealed himself. But being af-
terwards seized in Powisland, in North Wales, by Lord Powis, he was
brought to London, to the great joy of the clergy, who were highly
incensed against him, and resolved to sacrifice him, to strike a terror
into the rest of the Lollards. Sir John was of a very good family, had
been sherifT of Hertfordshire under Henry IV. and summoned to par-
liament among the barons of the realm in that reign. He had been
sent beyond the sea, with the earl of Arundel, to assist the duke of
Burgundy against the French. In a word, he was a man of extraor-
dinary merit, notwithstanding wliich he was condemned to be hanged
up by the waist with a chain, and burnt alive. This most barbaious
sentence was executed amidst the curses and imprecations of the priests
and monks, who used their utmost endeavours to prevent the people
from praying for him. Such was the tragical end of Sir John Old-
castle, who left the world with a resolution and constancy, that an-
swered perfectly to the brave spirit with which he had ever maintained
the cause of truth and of his God.
Not satisfied with his single death, the clergy induced the parlia-
ment to make fresh statutes against the Lollards. It was enacted,
among other things, that whosoever read the scriptures in English,
should forfeit lands, chattels, goods, and life, and be condemned as
heretics to God, enemies to the crown, and traitors to the kingdom ;
that they should not have the benefit of any sanctuary ; and that, if
they continued obstinate, or relapsed after being pardoned, they should
first be hanged for treason against the king, and then burned for he-
resy against God. This act was no sooner passed, but a violent per-
secution was raised against the Lollards ; several of them were burnt
196 BOOK OF MARTYRS
alivr, some fled the kingdom, and others were weak enough to abjure
their religion, to escape the torments prepared for them.
SECTION III.
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION IN THE REIGN OF HENRY VIII.
The reader will doubtless attend to the transactions recorded in this
reign with peculiar interest. It was in this period that God, through
the instrumentality of the king, liberated England from the papal
yoke, and made this country, as it were, a religious world dependant
on itself.
The wars between the two houses of York and Lancaster, had pro-
duced such fatal revolutions, and thrown England into such frequent
convulsions, that the nation, with great joy, hailed the accession of
Henry the Seventh to vhe throne, who being himself descended from
the house of Lancaster, by his marriage with the heiress of the house
of York, freed them from the fear of any farther civil wars. But the
covetousness of his temper, the severity of his ministers, and his jea-
lousy of the house of York, made him so generally odious to his peo-
ple, that his death was little lamented.
Henry the Eighth succeeded, A. D. 1509, Avith all the advantages he
could have desired ; and his disgracing Empson and Dudley, the cruel
ministers of his father's avaricious designs, his appointing restitution
to be made of the sums that had been unjustly exacted of the people,
and his ordering justice to be done on those rapacious ministers, gave
all people hopes of happy times ; and when ministers by the king's
orders, were condemned and executed for invading the liberties of the
people, under the covert of the king's prerogative, it made the nation
conclude, tha they should hereafter live secure, under the protection
of such a prince, and that the violent remedies of parliamentary judg-
ments should be no more necessary, except as in this case, to confirm
what had been done before in the ordinary courts of justice.
The king also, either from the munificence of his. own temper, or the
observation he had made of the ill cflTects of his father's parsimony,
distributed his rewards and largesses with an unmeasured bounty : so
that he quickly expended those treasures which his father had left:
but till the ill effects of this appeared, it raised in his court and subjects
the greatest hopes possible of a prince, whose first actions showed an
equal mixture of justice and generosity.
Character of Cardinal Wolsey.
One of the most remarkable men of this, or perhaps of any other
age, was Cardinal Wolsey. He was of mean extraction, but possess-
ed great abilities, and had a wonderful dexterity in insinuating him-
self into men's favour. He had but a little time been introduced to
the king before he obtained an entire ascendancy over him, and the di-
rection of all his aflairs, and for fifteen years continued to be the most
absolute favourite ever knoAvn in England. He saw the king was much
set on his pleasures, and had a great aversion to business, and the othe'
counsellors being imwilling to bear the load of afiairs, were trouble-
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 197
some to him, by pressing him to govern by his own counsels ; but Wol
sey knew the methods of favourites better, and so was not only easy,
but assistant to the king in his pleasures, and undertook to free him
from the trouble of government, and to give him leisure to follow his
appetites.
He was master of all the offices at home, and treaties abroad, so
that all affairs went as he directed them. He soon became obnoxious
to parliaments, and therefore tried but one during his ministry, where
the supply was granted so scantily, that afterwards he chose rather to
raise money by loans and benevolences, than by the free gift of the
people in parliament. He in time became so scandalous for his ill
life, that he grew to be a disgrace to his profession ; for he not only
served the king, but also shared with him in his pleasures. He was
first made bishop of Tournay in Flanders, then of Lincoln, after that
he was promoted to the see of York, and had both the abbey of St. Al-
bans, and the bishopric of Bath and Wells in commendam ; the last he
afterwards exchanged for Duresm, and upon Fox's death, he quitted
Duresm, that he might take Winchester ; and besides all this, the
king, by a special grant, gave him power to dispose of all the ecclesi-
astical preferments in England ; so that in effect he was the pope of
the British world, and no doubt but he copied skilfully enough after
those patterns that were set him at Rome. Being made a cardinal,
and setting up a legatine court, he found it fit for his ambition to have
the great seal likewise, that there might be no clashing between those
two jurisdictions. He had, in one word, all the qualities necessary
for a great minister, and all the vices usual in' a great favourite
Persecution of the Lollards.
In the beginning of this reign, several persons were brought into the
bishops' courts for heresy, or Lollardism. Forty-eight were accused ;
but of these, forty-three abjured, twenty-seven men, and sixteen wo-
men, most of them being of Tenterden ; and five of them, four men
and one woman, were condemned ; some as obstinate heretics, and
others as relapses ; and, against the common laws of nature, the wo-
man's husband, and her two sons, were brought as witnesses against
her. Upon their conviction, a certificate was made by the archbishop
to the chancery ; upon which, since there is no pardon upon record,
the writs for burning them must have been issued in course, and the
execution of them is little to be doubted. The articles objected to
them were, that they believed, that in the euchari^t there was nothing
but material bread; that the sacraments of baptism, confirmation, con-
fession, matrimony, and extreme unction, were neither necessary nor
profitable ; that priests had no more power than laymen ; that pilgri-
mages were not meritorious, and that the money and labour spent in them
were spent in vain ; that images ought not to be worshipped, and that
they were only stocks and stones; that prayers ought not to be made
to saints, but only to God ; that there was no virtue in holy water, or
holy bread. By this it will appear, that many in this nation were pre-
pared to receive those doctrines, which were afterwards preached by
the reformers, even before Luther began first to oppose indulgences.
Progress of Luther''s Doctrine.
The rise and progress of the doctrines of Luther are well known;
the scandalous sale of indulgences gave the first occasion to all that
^98 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
followed between him and the church of Rome ; in which, had not the
corruptions and cruelties of the clergy been so visible and scandalous,
so small a cause could never have produced so great a revolution.
The bishops Avere grossly ignorant ; they seldom resided in their
dioceses, except on great festivals ; and all the effect their residence
at such times could have, was to corrupt others by their ill example.
They attached themselves to princes, and aspired to the greatest
offices. The abbots and monks were wholly given up to luxury and
idleness; and their unmarried state gave infinite scandal to the world ;
for it appeared, that the restraining them from having wives of their
own, made them conclude, that they had a right to all other men's. The
inferior clergy were no better; and not having places of retreat to con-
ceal their vices in, as the monks had, they became more public. In
short, all ranks of churchmen were so universally despised and hated,
that the world was very easily possessed with prejudice against the
doctrines of men whom they knew to be capable of every vice; and
the worship of God was so defiled with gross superstition, that all men
were easily convinced, that the church stood in great need of a refor-
mation. This was much increased when the books of the fathers be-
gan to be read, in which the difference between the former and latter
ages of the church, did very evidently appear. It was found that a
blind superstition came first in the room of true piety ; and when, by
its means, the wealth and interest of the clergy were highly advanced,
the popes had upon that established their tyranny ; under which all
classes of people had long groaned. All these things concurred to
make way for the advancement of the reformation ; and, the books of
the German reformers being brought into England, and translated,
many -were prevailed on by them. Upon this, a furious persecution
was set on foot, to such a degree, that six men and women were
burnt in Coventry in passion week, only for teaching their children
the creed, the Lord's prayer, and the ten commandments, in Ensrlish.
Great numbers were every where brought into the bishops' courts;
of whom some were burnt, but the greater part abjured.
The king laid hold, on this occasion, to become the champion of
the church, and wrote against Luther. His book, besides the titlo oi
" Defender of the Faith," drew upon him all that flattery could in-
vent to extol it ; yet Luther, not daunted by such an antagonist, an-
Kwerr d it, and treated him as much below the respect that was due
to a king, as his flatterers had raised him above it. Tindal's transla-
tion of the New Testament, with notes, drew a severe condemnation
from the clergy, there being nothing in which they were more con-
cerned, tl;an to keep the people unacquainted with that book. Thus
much may serve to show the condition of aflairs in England both in
church and state, when the process of the king's divorce was first set
on foot.
History of Henry^s Marriage with Catherine.
As this incident is so replete with consequences, a particular re-
lation of its cause will not, it is presumed, be unacceptable to the
reader.
Henry the Seventh had entered into a firm alliance with Ferdinand
of Spain, and agreed on a match between his son, Prince Arthur, and
Catherine, the infanta of Spain. She came into England, and was
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION 199
married in November ; but on the second of April after, the prince
died. They were not only bedded in ceremony the night of the
marriage, but continued still to lodge together ; and the prince gave
occasion to believe that the marriage was consummated.
The king being unwilling to restore so great a portion as 200,000
ducats, Avhich the princess brought as her dowry, proposed a second
Jiiatch for her with his younger son Henry. Warham objected against
the lawfulness of it; but Fox, bishop of Winchester, was for it, and
the opinion of the pope's authority was then so Avell established, that
it was thought a dispensation from Rome Avas sufllcient to remove all
objections. Accordingly, one was obtained, grounded upon the desire
of the two young persons to marry together, for the preservation of
peace between the crowns of England and Spain.
The pope was then at Avar with Louis the Twelfth of France, and
so would refuse nothing to the king of England, being, perhaps, not
uuAvilling that princes should contract such marriages, by Avhich the
legitimation of their issue, depending on the pope's dispensation,
they v.-ould be thereby obliged in interest to support that authority.
Upon this a marriage followed, the prince being yet under age ; but
the same day in which he came to be of age, he did, by his father's
orders, make a protestation that he retracted and annulled his mar-
riage.
Henry the Seventh, on his death-bed, charged his son to break it off
entirely, being perhaps apprehensive of such a return of confusion
upon a controverted succession to the crown, as had been during the
wars of the houses of York a;.d Lancaster; but after his father's
death, Henry the Eighth, being then eighteen years of age, married
her : she bore him two sons, who died soon after they were born ;
and a daughter, jMary, afterwards queen of England. After this the
queen contracted some diseases that made her unacceptable to the
king ; Avho, at the same time beginning to have some scruples of
conscience with regard to the lawfulness of his marriage, determined
to have the aflair investigated.
The King^s Scruples concerning his Marriage.
He seemed to lay the greatest weight on the prohibition in the le-
vitical law, of marrying the brother's wife, and being conversant in
Thomas Aquinas's writings, he found, that lie and the other school-
men looked on those laws as moral, and forever binding ; and conse-
quently the pope's dispensation was of no force, since his authority
went not so far as to dispense with the lav/s of God. All the bishops
of England, Fisher of Rochester only excepted, declared under their
hands and seals, that they judged the marriage unlawful. The ill con-
sequence of Avars that might follow upon a doubtful title to the croAvn,
Avere also much considered. It is not certain that Henry's affection
for any other lady Avas the origin of these proceedings ; but Avhatever
be the determination of this point, it is certain that about this time he
gave free scope to his affections toAA'ards Anne Boleyn.
This lady Avas born in the year 1507, and at seven years of age
Avas sent to France, Avhere she remained twelve years, and then re-
turned to England. She Avas much admired in both courts, Avas more
beautiful than graceful, and more cheerful than discreet. She AA'anted
aone of the charms of Avit or person, and must have had extraordinary
200 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
attraclions, since she could so long retain her place in such a king':*
affection.
Knight, then secretary of state, was sent to Rome to prepare the
pope to grant a dispensation from the former marriage. Knight
made application in the most secret manner he could, and had a very
favourable answer ; for the pope promised frankly to dissolve the
marriage : but another promise being exacted of him by the emperor
Charles V. nephew of Catherine, not to proceed in that affair, he was
reduced to great straits, being then at his mercy, and yet unwilling to
offend the king of England : he therefore studied to gain time, and
promised that if the king would have a little patience, he should not
only have that which he asked, but every thing that was in his power
to grant.
Some scruples were made concerning the bull that was demanded,
till, by great presents, it was at length obtained, and then the pope
signed a commission for Wolsey to try the cause, and judge in it,
and also a dispensation, and put them in Knight's hands ; but with
tears prayed him that there might be no proceedings upon them, till
the emperor was put out of a capacity of executing his revenge upon
him, and v/henever that was done, he would own this act of justice,
which he did in the king's favour.
The pope Avas at this time offended with Cardinal Wolsey ; for he
understood, that during his captivity, Wolsey had been in an intrigue
to get himself chosen vicar of the papacy, and was to have sate at
Avignon, which might have produced a new schism. Staphileus,
dean of the Rota, being then in Engl-^nd, Avas prcA^ailed on by the pro-
mise of a bishopric, and a recommendation to a cardinal's hat, to pro-
mote the king's affair ; and by him the cardinal wrote to the pope, in
a most earnest strain, for a despatch of this business ; and he desired,
that an indifferent and tractable cardinal might be sent over, Avith a
full commission to join Avith him, and to judge the matter ; proposing
to the king's ambassadors, Campegio, Avho Avas the fittest man.
The cardinal, in his letters to Cassuli, who Avas in great favour with
the pontiff, offered to take the blame on his OAvn soul, if the pope
Avould grant this bull ; and Avith an earnestness, as hearty and Avarm
as can be expressed in Avords, he pressed the thing, and added, thai
if the pope continued inexorable, he perceived the king Avould pro-
ceed another Avay.
These entreaties had such an eflect, that Campegio Aras declared
legate, and ordered to go to England, and join in commission Avith
Wolsey for judging this matter. He accordingly set out from Rome,
and carried with him a decretal bull, for annulling the marriage, Avhich
he Avas authorized to shoAV to the king and Wolsey ; but was required
not to give it out of his hands to either of them.
Campegio comes into England.
In October, he arrived in England, and advised the king to relin-
quish the prosecution of his suit-; and then counselled the queen, in
the pope's name, to enter into a religious community ; but both Avere
in vain ; and he, by affecting an impartiality, almost lost both sides.
But he in great measure pacified the king, when he shoAved him the
bull he had brought over for annulling the marriage ; yet he Avould
not part Avith it out of his hands neither to the king, nor the cardinal •
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 201
upon which, great sohcilation was employed at Rome, that Cauipegio
might be ordered to show it to some of the king's counsellors, and
to go on and end the business, otherwise Wolsey would be ruined,
and England lost ; yet all this did not prevail on the pope, who knew
that the king intended to get the bull out of Campegio's hands, and
then to leave the ponlifl' to the emperor's indignation ; but though
he positively refused to grant that, yet, he said, he left the legates in
England free to judge as they saw cause, and promised that he would
confirm their sentence.
The affair proceeding very slowly, ambassadors were dispatched
to Rome with new propositions, for a speedy termination. On this,
the pope gave new assurances, tliat though he would not grant a
bull, by Avhich the divorce should be immediately his own act, yet
he would confirm the legates' sentence.-
About this time the pope was taken suddenly ill, upon which the
imperialists began to prepare for a conclave ; but Farnese, and the
cardinal of Mantua, opposed them, and seemed to favour Wolsey ;
whom, as his correspondents wrote to him, " they reverenced as a
deity." Upon this he dispatched a courier to Gardiner, then on his
way to Rome, with large directions how to manage the election ; ii
was reckoned, that on the ki-ng of France joining heartily with Henry,
of Avhich he seemed confident, there were only six cardinals wanting
to make the election sure, and besides sums of money, and other
rewards, that were to be distributed among them, he was to give
them assurance, that the cardinal's preferments should be divided
among them. These were the secret methods of obtaining that chair;
and, indeed, it would puzzle a man of an ordinary degree of credulity,
to think, that one chosen by such means could presume to be
Christ's vicar, and the infallible judge of controversies. Tl e re-
covery, howevei*, of the pope, put an end to those intrigues.
The Queen Appeals to the Pope.
At length the legates began the process, when the queen protested
against them as incompetent judges. They, however, proceeded ac-
cording to the forms of law, although the queen had appealed from
them to the pope, and objected both to the place, to the judges, and
her lawyers ; yet they pronounced her contumacious, and went on to
examine witnesses, chiefly as to the consummation of her marriage
with Prince Arthur. But now, since the process was thus going on,
the emperor's agents pressed the pope vehemently for an avocation;
and all possible endeavours v^ere used by the king's agents to hinder
it ; it was toH him, that there was a treaty on foot between the king
and the Lutheran princes of Germany ; and that upon declaring him-
self so partial as to grant the avocation, this would certainly be con-
cluded. But the pope thought the king so far engaged in honour in
the points of religion, that he would not be prevailed with to unite with
Luther's followers ; he did not, therefore, imagine, that the effects of
his granting the avocation would be so fatal as was represented. In
conclusion, therefore, after the emperor had engaged to him to re-
store his family to the government of Florence, the pope resolved to
publish his treaty with him ; he told the English ambassadors, that he
was forced to it; both because all the lawyers told him it could not
be denied, and that he could not resist the emperor's forces, which
202 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
surrounded him on all hands. Their endeavours to gain a little tine
by delays were as fruitless as their other arts had been, for, on the
15th of July, the pope signed it, and, on the 19th, sent it by an ex-
press messenger to England.
The legates, and among them Campegio in particular, drew out
the matter, by all the delays they could contrive, and gained much
lime. At last, sentence being to be pronounced, Campegio, instead
of pronouncing it, adjourned the court till October, and said, that they
being a part of the consistory, must observe their times of vacation.
This gave the king and his court great offence, Avhen they saw what
was like to be the issue of a process, on which his majesty was so
much bent, and in Avhich he was so far engaged, both in honour and
interest. The king governed himself upon this occasion with more
temper than was expected ; lie dismissed Campegio civilly, only his
officers searched his coffers when he went beyond sea, with design, as
was thought, to see if the decretal bull could be found. Wolsey was
now upon the point of being disgraced, though the king seemed to
treat him with all his former confidence.
Account of Cranmer.
At this period. Dr. Cranmer, a fellow of .Tesus' College in Cam-
bridge, meeting accidentally with Gardiner and Fox at Waltham, and
entering into discourse upon the royal marriage, suggested, that the
king should engage the chief universities and divines of Eurojje, to
examine the lawfulness of his marriage ; and if they gave their reso-
lutions against it, then it being certain that the pope's dispensation
could not derogate from the law of God, the marriage must be de-
clared null. This novel and reasonable scheme they proposed to the
king, who was much pleased with it, as he saw this way was better in
itself, and would mortify the pope. Cranmer was accordingly sent
for, and on conversing with him, the king conceived an high opinion
both of his learning and prudence, as well as of his probity and sin-
cerity, which took such root in his mind, that no artifices, nor calum-
nies, were ever able to remove it.
Wolsey is Disgraced.
From this moment began the decline of Wolsey. The great seal
was taken from him, and given to Sir Thomas More ; and he was sued
in a praemunire, for having held the legitimate courts by a foreign
authority, contrary to the laws of England : he confessed the indict-
ment, pleaded ignorance, and submitted himself to the king's mercy,
so judgment passed on him ; then was his rich palace and royal f' r-
niture seized on for the royal use ; yet the king received him af ain
into his protection, and restored to him the temporalities of the sees
of York and "Winchester, and above 6000Z. in plate, and other goods.
Articles were, however, preferred against him in the liouse of lords,
where he had but few friends ; but Cromwell, who had been his se-
cretary, did so manage the matter in the house of commons, that it
came to nothing. This failing, his enemies procured an order to be
sent to him, to go into Yorkshire ; thither he went in great state, with
ICO horses in his train, and 72 carts following him. There he lived
some time ; but the king being informed that he was practising with
the pope and the emperor, sent the earl of Northumberland to arrest
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 203
him for high treason, and bring him up to London. On the way he
sickened, and died at Leicester, making great protestations of his
constant fidelity to the king, particularly in the matter of his ilivorce:
and " wishing he had served God as faithfully as he had done the
king; for then lie would not have cast him off in his gray hairs, as
the king had done :" words that declining favourites are apt to reflect
on, but seldom remember in the height of their fortune.
The Universities declare against the King^s Marriage.
The king now intending to proceed in the method proposed by
Cranmer, sent to Oxford and Cambridge, to procure their conclu-
sions. At Oxford, it was referred by the major part of the convoca-
tion to thirty-three doctors and bachelors of divinity, whom that fa-
culty was to name : they were empowered to determine the question,
and put the seal of the university to their conclusion. And they gave
their opinions, that the marriage of the brother's wife was contrary
both to the laws of God and nature. At Cambridge the convocation
referred the question to twenty-nine ; of which number, two thirds
agreeing, they were empowered to put the seal of the university to
their determination. These agreed in opinion with those of Oxford.
The jealousy of Dr. Cranmer's favouring Lutheranism, caused the
fierce popish party to oppose every thing in which he was engaged.
They were also afraid of Anne Boleyn's advancement, who was be-
lieved to be tinctured with these opinions. Crook, a learned man,
was employed in Italy, to procure the resolution of divines there ; in
which he was so successful, that besides the great discoveries he
made in searching the manuscripts of the Greek fathers concerning
their opinions in this point, he engaged several persons to write for
ihe king's cause : and also got the Jews to give their opinions of the
laws in Leviticus, that they were moral and obligatory ; yet, when a
brother died without issue, his brother might marry his widow within
Judea, for preserving their families and succession ; but they thought
that might not be done out of Judea. The state of Venice would not
declare themselves, but said they would be neutral, and it was not
easy to persuade the divines of the republic to give their opinions,
till a brief was obtained of the pope, permitting all divines and ca-
nonists to deliver their opinions according to their consciences. The
pope abhorred this way of proceeding, though he could not decently
oppose it : but he said, in great scorn, that no friar should set limits
to his power. Crook was ordered to give no money, nor make pro-
mises to any, till they had freely delivered their opinion ; which he
is said to have faithfully observed.
He sent over to England a hundred several ' books, and papers,
with many subscriptions ; all condemning the king's marriage as un-
lawful in itself. At Paris, the Sorbonne made their determination
with great solemnity ; after mass, all the doctors took an oath to
study the question, and to give their judgment according to their
consciences ; and after three weeks study the greater part agreed on
this : " that the king's marriage was lawful, and that the pope could
not dispense with it." At Orleans, Anglers, and Toulouse, they de-
termined to the same purpose.
Calvin thought the marriage null, and all agreed that the pope's
dispensation was of no force. Osiander was employed to engage the
20-1 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Lutheran divines, but they Avere afraid of giving the emperor new
grounds of displeasure.
Meluucthon thought the law in Leviticus was dispensable, and thai
the marriage might be lawful ; and that, in those matters, states and
princes might make what laws they pleased ; and though the divines
of Leipsic, after much disputing about it, did agree, that those laws
were moral, yet they could never be brought to justify the divorce,
with the subsequent marriage ; but the pope was more compliant, for
he offered to Cassali, to grant the king dispensation for having ano-
ther wife, with vvhich the imperialists seemed not dissatisfied.
The king's cause being thus fortified, by so many resolutions in his
favour, he made many members of the parliament, in a prorogation
time, sign a letter to the pope, complaining, that notwithstanding the
great merits of the king, the justice of his cause, and the importance
of it to the safety of the kingdom, yet the pope made still new de-
lays ; they therefore pressed him to despatch it speedily, otherwise
they would be forced to seek other remedies, though they were not
willing to drive things to extremities, till it was unavoidable. The
letter was signed by the cardinal, the archbishop of Canterbury, four
bishops, twenty-two abbots, forty-two peers, and eleven commoners.
To this the pope wrote an answer : he took notice of the vehe-
mence of their style : he freed himself from the imputations of ingra-
titude and injustice : he acknowledged the king's great merits ; and
said, he had done all he could in his favour ; he had granted a com-
mission, but could not refuse to receive tlie queen's appeal ; all the
cardinals with one consent judged, that an avocation was necessary.
Since that time, the delays lay not with him, but with the king; that
he was ready to proceed, and would bring it to as speedy an issue as
the importance of it would admit of; and for their threatcnings, they
were neither agreeable to their wisdom, nor their religion.
The king, now disgusted at his dependance on the pope, issued a
proclamation against any that should purchase, bring over, or publish
any bull from Rome, contrary to his authority : and after that he
made an abstract of all the reasons and authorities of the fathers, or
modern writers, against his marriage, to be published both in Latin
and English.
Both sides having produced the strength of their cause, it evidently
appeared, that, according to the authority given to the tradition in the
church of Rome, the king had clearly the right on his side.
Amidst these disputes, the queen continued firm to her resolution
of leaving the matter in the pope's hands, and would not listen to any
propositions for referring the matter to the arbitration of a number
chosen on both sides.
The King leaves the Queen.
After the prorogation of parliament, new applications were made
to the queen to persuade her to depart from her appeal ; but she re-
mained fixed in her resolution, and said she Avas the king's lawful
■wife, and would abide by it, till the court of Rome should declare to
the contrary. Upon that, the king desired her to choose any of his
houses in the country to live in, and resolved never to see her more
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 20c
The Pope writes to the King, and is answered.
In January, 1532, the pope, upon tlie motion of tJie imperialists,
wrote to the king, complaining, that nutwitlistamiing a suit was de
pending concerning his marriage, yet he had ]n\t away his queen, and
kept one Anne as his wife, contrary to a prohibition served on him ;
he therefore exhorted him to live with his queen again, and to put
away Anne. Upon this the king sent Dr. Bennet to Rome willi a
large despatch, in which he com{)lained that the pope proceeded in
that matter upon the suggestion of others, who were ignorant and rash
men, and had carried himself inconstantly and deceitfully into it, and
not as became Christ's vicar ; he had granted a commission, had pro-
mised never to recal it, and had sent over a decretal bull defining the
cause. Either these were unjustly granted, or unjustly recalled. It
was plain that he acted more with regard to his interests tlian accord-
ing to conscience ; and that, as the pope had often confessed his own
ignorance in these matters, so he was not furnished with learned men
to advise him, otherwise he would not defend a marriage which almost
all the learned men and universities in England, France, and Italy, had
condemned as unlawful. He would not question his authority unless
ne were compelled to it, and would do nothing but reduce it to its first
and ancient limits.
This haughty letter made the i)ope resolve to proceed and end this
matter, either by a sentence or a treaty. The king was cited to an-
swer the queen's appeal at Rome in person, or by ])roxy ; accordingly,
Sir Edward Karne was sent thither in the new character of the king's
excusator, to excuse the king's appearance, upon such grounds as
could be founded on the common law, and upon the privileges of the
crown of England. The imperialists pressed the pope to give sen-
tence, but the wiser cardinals, who observed that the nation would
adhere to the king, if he should be provoked to shake off the pope's
yoke, suggested milder counsels.
In conclusion, the pope seemed to favour the king's excusatory plea,
upon which the imperialists made great complaints. But this amounted
to no more, than that the king Mas not bound to appear in person ;
therefore, the cardinals, who were in his interest, advised the king to
send over a proxy for answering to the merits of the cause. Bonner
was also sent to England to assure the king that the pope was now so
much in the French interest, that he might confidently refer his mat-
ter to him.
At that time the king sent for the speaker of the house of commons,
and told him he found the prelates were but half subjects ; for they
swore at their consecration an oath to the pope, inconsistent with their
allegiance and oath to him. By their oath to the pope, they swore
to be in no council against him, nor to disclose his secrets ; but to
maintain the papacy, and the rights and authorities of the church of
Rome, against all men. In their oath to the king, they renounced
all clauses in their bulls contrary to the king's royal dignity, and
swore to be faithful to him, and to live and die with him against all
others, and to keep his counsel ; acknowledging that tliey held their
bishoprics only of him. It was evident they could not keep both
these oaths, in case of a breach between the king and the pope.
But the plague broke off the consultations of parliament at this time.
20G COOK OF MARTYRS.
Soon aftor. Sir Thomas More, seeing a rupture with Rome coming on
so last, desired leave to lay down his office, which was, upon that, con-
ferred on Sir Thomas Audley. More was satisfied with the king's
keeping up the laws formerly m.ade in opposition to the papal en-
croachments, and so had concurred in a suit of the praemunire which
had been issued against the clergy ; but now the matter went farther,
and not being able to keep pace with the king's measures, he returned
to a private life.
Interview of the Kings of England and France.
An interview soon followed between the kings of France and Eng-
land ; in which Francis promised Henry to second him in his suit ;
encouraged him to proceed to a second marriage without delay, and
assured him of his assistance and sup|)ort ; meantime, the pope offered
to the king to send a legate to any indifferent place out of England, to
form the process, reserving only the giving sentence to himself, and
proposed to him, and all princes, a general truce, to be followed by a
general council
The king answered, that such was the present state of the affairs of
Europe, that it was not seasonable to call a general council ; and that
it was contrary to his prerogative to send a proxy to appear at Rome ;
that by the decrees of general councils, all causes ought to be judged
on the place, and by a provincial council ; and that it was fitter to
judge it in England, than any where else ; and that by his coronation
oath he was bound to maintain the dignities of his crown, and the
rights of his subjects ; and not to appear before any foreign court.
Sir Thomas Elliot was, therefore, sent over with instructions, to move
that the cause might be judged in England.
The King marries Anne Boleyn.
Soon after this, the king married Anne Boleyn ; Rowland Lee
(afterwards bishop of Coventry and Litchfield) officiated, none being
present but the duke of Norfolk, and her father, mother, brotlier, and
Cranmer. It was thought that the former marriage being null, the
king might proceed to another ; and perhaps they hoped, that as the
pope had formerly proposed this method, so lie would now approve
of it. But though the pope had joined himself to France, yet he was
still so much in fear of the emperor, that he dared not provoke him.
A new citation was, therefore, issued out, for the king to answer to the
queen's complaints ; but Henry's agents protested, that their master
'y&s a sovereign prince, and England a free church, over which the
pope had no just authority ; and that the king could expect no justice
at Rome, where the emperor's power was so great.
The Parliament condemns Appeals to Rome.
At this time, the parliament met again, and passed an act, condemn-
ing all appeals to Rome ; and enacting, that thenceforth all causes
should be judged within the kingdom, and that sentences given in
England were to have full effect ; and all that executed any censures
from Rome, were to incur the pain of praemunire.
Cranmer made Archbishop of Canterhury
Warham, archbishop of Canterbury, having died the preceding year,
was succeeded by Cranmer, who Avas then in Germany, disputing in
the lung's cause with some of the emperor's divines. The king re-
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 207
solved to advance him to that dignity, and sent him word of it, that so
he might make haste over : but a promotion so far above his thoughts,
had not its common eflects on him ; he liad a true and primitive sense
of so great a charge ; and instead of aspiring to it, feared it ; and, re-
turning very slowly to England, used all his endeavours to be excused
from that advancement. Bulls were sent for to Rome, in order to his
consecration, which the pope granted, and on the 30lh of March, Cran-
mer was consecrated by the bishops of Lincoln, Exeter, and St, Asaph.
The oath to the pope was of hard digestion to him. He therefore made
a protestation, before he took it, that he conceived himself not bound
by it in any thing that Avas contrary to his duty to God, to his king, or
to his country ; and this he repeated when he took it.
The King''s Marriage condemned by the Convocation.
The convocation had then two questions before them ; the first was,
concerning the lawfulness of the king's marriage, and the validity of
the pope's dispensation ; the other was, of a matter of fact, whether
Prince Arthur had consummated the marriage. For the first, the
judgments of nineteen universities were read ; and, after a long debate,
there being twenty-three only in the lower house, fourteen were against
the marriage, seven for it, and two voted dubiously. In the upper
house, Stokesly, bishop of London, and Fisher, maintained the debate
long; the one for the affirmative, and the other the negative : at last
it was carnedne?nine contradicente, {the few that were of the other side
it seems withdrawing) against the marriage, 216 being present. The
other question was referred to the canonists ; and they all, except five
or six, reported that the presumptions were violent ; and these, in a
matter not capable of plain proof, were always received in law.
The convocation having thus judged in the matter, the ceremony
of pronouncing the divorce judicially was now only wanting. The new
queen being pregnant, was a great evidence of her having preserved
her chastity previously to her marriage. On Easter eve she was de-
clared queen of England; and soon after, Cranmer, with Gardiner,
who had been made, upon Wolsey's death, bishop of Winchester, n.nd
the bishops of London, Lincoln, Bath, and Wells, with many divines
and canonists, went to Dunstable; Queen Catherine living then near
it, at Ampthill. The king and queen were cited : he appeared by
proxy, but the queen refused to take any notice of the court: so after
three citations she was declared contumacious, and the merits of the
cause were examined. At last, on the 23d of May, sentence was
given; declaring the marriage to have been null from the beginning.
Coronation of Anne Boleyn.
Some days after this, another judgment was given, confirming the
king's marriage with Queen Anne, and on the first of June she was
crowned. All people admired her conduct, who, during so many years,
managed the spirit of so violent a king in such a manner, as neither
to surfeit him with too many favours, nor to provoke him with too
much rigour. They that loved the reformation, looked for better
days under lier protection ; but many priests and friars, both in ser-
mons and discourses, condemned the king's proceedings. Henry
sent ambassadors to the various courts of Europe, to justify Avhat he
had done : he sent also to Queen Catherine, charging her to assume
no other title than that of princess dowager ; but to this she refused
203 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
obedience, saying, she would not take that infamy on herself; and
so resolved that none should serve about her who did not treat her
as queen.
At Rome the cardinals of the imperial faction complained much of
the attempi made on the pope's power, and urged him to proceed to
censures. But there was only sentence given, annulling all that the
archbishop of Canterbury had done ; and the king was required, under
pain of excommunication, to i)lace things again in the state in which
they formerly were ; and this notification was affixed at Dunkirk.
The king sent an embassy to the French monarch, who was then
setting out to Marseilles, to meet the pope ; their errand was to dis-
suade him from the journey, unless the pope promised Henry satis-
faction : Francis said, lie Avas engaged in honour to go on ; but assu-
red them, he would mind the king's concerns with as much zeal as
if they were his own.
Birth of the Princess Elizabeth.
In September the queen brought forth a daughter, afterwards the
renowned Queen Elizabeth ; and the king having before declared
Lady Mary princess of Wales, did now the same for her : though,
since a son might exclude her from it, she could not be heir appa-
rent, but only heir presumptive to the crown.
The eventful moment was now at hand, when the incident should
take place that would cause the separation of England from the church
of Rome. There was a secret agreement between the pope and
Francis, that if King Henry would refer his cause to the consistory, ex-
cepting only the cardinals of the imperial faction, as partial, and would
in all other things return to his obedience to the see of Rome, the sen-
tence should be given in his fovour. When Francis returned to Paris,
he sent over the bishop of that city to the king, to tell what he had ob-
tained of the pope in his favour, and the terms on which it was promi-
sed ; this wrought so much on the king, that he presently consented to
them ; upon Avhich, the bishop of Paris, though it Avas noAV in the mid-
dle of winter, went to Rome in consequence. Upon his arrival there,
the matter seemed agreed ; for it was promised, that upon the king's
sending a ])romise under his hand, to place things in their former
state, and his ordering a proxy to appear for him, judges should be
sent to Cambray for making the process, and then sentence should be
given. Upon the notice given of this, and of a day fixed for the re-
turn of the courier, the king dispatched him with all possible haste :
and now the business seemed at an end. But the courier had the sea
and the Alps to pass, and in winter it was not easy to observe a limited
day so exactly. The appointed day came, and no courier arrived ;
upon which the imperialists gave out, that the king was abusing the
pope's easiness; and pressed him vehemently to proceed to a sentence;
the bishop of Paris requested only a delay of six days. But the de-
sign of the imperialists was to hinder a reconciliation ; for if the king
had been set right with the pope, there would have been so powerful
a league formed against the emperor, as would have frustrated all his
measures : and therefore it was necessary for his politics to embroil
ihem. Seduced by the artifice of this intriguing prince, the pope,
contrary to his ordinary prudence, brought the matter before the con-
MStory ; and there the imperialists having the majority, it was driven
The hones of Wickliffe taken U2? ayid burnt, and the
ashes throw7i into the River . Page 192,
Martyrdom of Thomas Badly . Page 194.
John Lambert on his Trial. Pa<ye 234.
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 209
on with so much precipitation, that they did, in one day, that which,
according to form, should have occupied three.
They gave the final sentence, declared the king's marriage Mith
Queen Catherine good, and required him to live with her as his wife,
otherwise they would proceed to censures. Two days after this, the
courier came with the king's submission in due form ; he also brought
earnest letters from Francis in the king's favour. This wrought on'all
the indifferent cardinals, as well as those of the French faction, so
much that they prayed the pope to recal what was done. A new
consistory was called ; but the imperialists urged, with Greater vehe-
mence than ever, that they would not give such scandal^o the world
as to recal a definitive sentence passed on the validity of a marriage,
and give the heretics such advantages by their unsteadiness in matters
of that nature ; it was, therefore, carried, that the former sentence
should take place, and the execution of it committed to the emperor.
When this was known in England, it determined the king in his reso-
lution of shaking off the papal yoke, in which he had made so great
a progress, that the parliament had passed all the acts concerning it,
before he received the news from Rome ; for he judged, that the best
way to secure his cause was to let Rome see his power, and with what
vigour he could make war.
Arguments for rejecting the Pope's Power.
In England, the foundations on which the papal authority was builr^
had been examined with extraordinary care of late years ; and several
books were written on that subject. It was demonstrated that all the
apostles were made equal in the powers that Christ gave them, and
he often condemned their contests about superiority, but never de-
clared in Peter's favour. Paul withstood him to his face, and reckon-
ed himself not inferior to him. If the dignity of a person left any
authority with the city in which he sat, then Antioch must carry it as
well as Rome ; and Jerusalem, where Christ suffered, was to be pre-
ferred to all the world, for it was truly the mother church. The other
privileges ascribed to Peter, M'ere either only a precedence of order,
or were occasioned by his fall, as that injunction, " Feed my sheep,'"
it being a restoring him to the apostolical function. Peter had also a
limited province, the circumcision, as Paul had the uncircumcision, ol
far greater extent ; which showed that Peter was not considered as the
universal pastor.
Several sees, as Ravenna, Milan, and Aquileia, pretended exemp-
tion from the papal authority. Many English bishops had asserted,
that the popes had no authority against the canons, and to that day nii
canon the pope made was binding till it was received ; which showed
the pope's authority was not believed to be founded on a divine au-
thority ; and the contests which the kings of England had had with
the popes concerning investitures, bishops doing homage, appeals to
Rome, and the authority of papal bulls and provisions, showed that
the pope's power was believed to be subject to laws and custom, and
so not derived from Christ and Peter ; and as laws had given them
some power, and princes had been forced, in ignorant ages', to submit
to their usurpations, so they might, as they saw cause, "change those
laws, and resume their rights.
The next point inquired into was, the authority that kings had in
210 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
matters of religion and the church. In the New Testament, Christ
was himself subject to the civil powers, and charged his disciples not
lo affect temporal dominion. They also wrote to the churches to be
subject to the higher powers, and call them supreme, and charge every
soul to be subject to them ; so, in scripture, the king is called head
and supreme, and every soul is said to be under him, which, joined
together, makes up his conclusion, that he is the supreme head over
all persons. In the primitive church the bishops only made rules or
canons, but pretended to no compulsive authority but what came from
ihe civil magistrate. Upon the whole matter, they concluded, that
the pope had no power in England, and that the king had an entire do-
minion over all his subjects, which extended even to the regulation of
ecclesiastical matters.
These questions being fully discussed in many disputes, and pub-
lished in several books, all the bishops, abbots, and friars, of Eng-
land, Fisher only excepted, were so far satisfied with them, that they
resolved to comply with the changes the king was resolved to make.
The Pope^s Power rejected by Parliament.
At the next meeting of parliament, there were but seven bishops
and twelve abbots present, the rest being unwilling to concur in making
this change, though they complied with it when it was made. Every
Sunday during the session a bishop preached at St. Paul's, and de-
clared that the pope had no authority in England ; before this, they had
only said that a general council was above th( m, and that the exactions
of Lis court, and appeals to it, were unlawful ; but now they Avent a
strain higher, to prepare the people for receiving the acts then in agi-
tation. On the ninth of March, the commons began the bill for taking
away the pope's power, and sent it to the lords on the 14th, who pass-
ed it on the 20th without any dissent. In it they set forth the exac-
tions of the court of Rome, grounded on the pope's power of dispens-
ing ; and that as none could dispense with the laws of God, so the
king and parliament only had the authority of dispensing with the laws
of the land ; and that, therefore, such licenses or dispensations as were
formerly in use, should be for the future granted by the two arch-
bishops ; some of these were to be confirmed under the great seal ;
and they appointed, that thereafter all intercourse Avith Rome, on those
subjects, should cease. They also declared, that they did not intend
to alter any article of the catholic faith of Christendom, or of that
which was declared in the scripture necessary to salvation. They
confirmed all the exemptions granted to monasteries by the popes,
but subjected them to the king's visitation, and gave the king and his
council power to examine and reform all indulgences and privileges
granted by the pope. This act subjected the monasteries entirely to
the king's authority, and put them in no small confusion. Those who
loved the reformation rejoiced both to see the pope's power rooted
out, and to find the scripture made the standard of religion.
After this act, another passed in both houses in six days time without
any opposition, settling the succession of the crown, confirming the
sentence of divorce, and the king's marriage with Queen Anne, and de-
claring all marriages within the degrees prohibited by Moses to be un-
lawful ; all that had married within them were appointed to be divorced,
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 211
and their issue illegitimated ; and the succession to the crown was
settled upon the king's issue by the present queen, or, in default of
that, to the king's right heirs forever. All were required to swear to
maintain the contents of this act ; and if any refused to swear to it, or
should say any thing to the slander of the king's marriage, he was to
be judged guilty of misprision of treason, and to be punished accord-
ingly.
About this time one Phillips complained to the house of commons
of the bishop of London for using him cruelly in prison upon suspicion
of heresy ; the commons sent up his petition to the lords, but received
no answer ; they therefore sent some of their members to the bishop, de-
siring him to answer the complaints put in against him ; but he ac-
quainted the house of lords with it ; and they with one consent voted
that none of their house ought to appear or answer to any complaint
at the bar of the house of commons. On which the commons let this
particular case fall, and sent up a bill, to which the lords agreed, re-
gulating the proceedings against heretics ; repealing the statute of
Henry IV. ; and declaring that none were to be committed for heresy
but upon a presentment made by two witnesses ; none were to be
accused for speaking against things that were grounded onlj-- upon the
pope's canons : bail was to be taken for heretics, and they were to be
brought to trial in open court ; and if upon conviction they did not
abjure, or were relapses, they were to be burnt ; the king's writ being
first obtained. This was a great check to the bishops' tyranny and
gave great satisfaction to the friends of the reformation.
The convocation sent in a submission at the same time, by which
they acknowledged, that all the convocations ought to be assembled by
the king's writ ; and promised never to make nor execute any canons
without the king's assent. They also desired, that since many of the
received canons were found to be contrary to the king's prerogative
and the laws of the land there might be a committee named by the
king, of thirty-two, the one half out of both houses of parliament, and
the other of the clergy, empowered to abrogate or regulate them, as
they should see cause. This was confirmed in parliament ; the act
. against appeals was renewed ; and an appeal was allowed from the
archbishop to the king, upon which the lord chancellor was to grant
a commission for a court of delegates.
Another act passed for regulating the elections and consecrations of
bishops, condemning all bulls from Rome, and appointing that upon a
vacancy the king should grant a license for an election, and should by
a missive letter signify the person's name whom he would have cho-
sen; and within twelve days after these were delivered, the dean and
chapter, or prior and convent, were required to return an election of
the person named by the king, under theiv seals. The bishop elect
was upon that to swear fealty, and a writ was to be issued out for his
consecration in the usual manner ; after that he was to do homage to
the king, upon which both the temporalities and spiritualities were to
be restored, and bishops were to exercise their jurisdictions as they
had done before. All who transgressed this act were made guilty of
a praemunire.
A private act ])assed, depriving cardinal Campegio and Jerome de
Gianuccii of the bishoprics of Salisbury and Worcester ; the reasons
given for it were, because they did not reside in their dioceses, for
212 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
preaching the laws of God, and keeping hospitality, while they lived
at the court of Rome, and drew £3000 a year out of the kingdom.
The last act of a j)ublic nature, though relating only to private per-
sons, was concerning the nun of Kent and her accomplices. It was
the first occasion of shedding any blood in this quarrel, and the im-
posture was much cherished by all the superstitious clergy who ad-
hered to the interests of the queen and the pope. The nun, and many
of her accomplices, were brought to the bar of the house of lords,
where they confessed the whole matter.
Sir Thomas More and Bishop Fisher were charged with having con-
cealed their knowledge of the affair ; the former wrote a long letter
upon the subject to Cromwell, giving him a particular account of all
the conversations he had had with the nun : he acknowledged that he
had esteemed her highly, not so much out of any regard to her pro-
phecies, as for the opinion he conceived of her holiness and humility.
But he added, that " he was then convinced that she was the most
false dissembling hypocrite that ever had been known, and guilty of
the most detestable hypocrisy and devilish dissembled falsehood:"
he also believed that she had communication Avith an evil spirit.
More's justification of his conduct prevailed so far, that his name was
struck out of the bill.
Story of the Nun of Kent.
Elizabeth Barton, of Kent, fell into hysterical fits, and spake such
things as made those about her think she was inspired by God. The
parson of the parish, named Master, hoping to draw advantages from
this, informed Archbishop Warham of it, who ordered him to watch her
carefully, and bring him an account of what he should observe. But
it seems that she forgot* all she said in her fits when they were over.
But the artful priest would not sufler his hopes thus to pass away, but
persuaded her she was inspired, and taught her so to counterfeit those
trances, that she became very expert at it, and could assume them at
her pleasure. The matter was soon noised about ; and the priest in-
tended to raise the credit of an image of the blessed virgin, which
stood in his church, so that pilgrimages and ofierings might be made
to it by her means. He accordingly associated to himself one Bock-
ing, a monk of Canterbury, and they taught the nun to say, in her fits,
that the blessed virgin appeared to her, and told her, she could not be
well till she visited that image. She spake many good words against
ill life, and also against heresy, and the king's suit of divorce then de-
pending ; and by many strange motions of her bo<ly, she seemed, to
the ignorant multitude of that age, to be inwardly possessed.
Soon after this, a day Avas appointed for her cure ; and before an as-
semblage of two thousand people, she was carried to the image ; and
after she had acted over her fits, she seemed suddenly to recover,
which was ascribed to the intercession of the virgin, and the virtue of
her image. She then took the veil, and Bocking was her confessor.
Her popularity increased daily, and many thought her a prophetess,
among whom was Archbishop Warham himself. A book was also
written of her revelations, and a letter was sheAvn, all in letters of gold,
pretended to be written to her from heaven by Mary Magdalen ! She
said, that when the king Avas last at Calais, she Avas carried invisibly
beyond sea, and brought back again; and that an angel gave her the
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 213
sacrament ; and that God revealed to her, that if the king went on in
his divorce, and married another wife, he shoiihi fall from his crown,
and not live a month longer, but should die a villain's deatli.
Several monks of the Charter-house, and the observant friars, with
many nuns, and Bishop Fisher, gave credit to this, set a great value on
her, and grew very insolent upon it ; for Friar Peyto i)reaching in the
king's chapel at Greenwich, denounced the judgments of God upon
him ; and said, though others as lying prophets deceived him, yet he,
in the name of God, told him, that dogs should lick his blood, as they
had done Ahab's. The king bore this patiently, contenting himself
with ordering Dr. Corren to preach next Sunday, and to answer all
that he had said ; who railed against Peyto as a dog and a traitor. Pey-
to had gone to Canterbury; but Elston, a Franciscan of the same
house, interrupted him, and called him one of the lying prophets that
went about to establish the succession of the crown by adultery ;
and spoke with so much vehemence, that the king himself was forced
to command silence. So unwilling was the king to go to extremities,
that all that was done upon so high a provocation, was, that they were
summoned before the council, and rebuked for their insolence. But
the nun's confederates proceeding to publish her revelations in all parts
of tlie kingdom, she and nine of her accomplices were apprehended,
when they all, without any rack or torture, discovered the whole con-
spiracy. Upon this confession they were appointed to go to St. Paul's,
where, after a sermon preached by the bishop of Bangor, they repeated
their confession in the hearing of the people, and were sent as prison-
ers to the Tower. But it was given out that all was extorted from
them by violence, and messages were sent to the nun, desiring her to
deny all that she had confessed. The king, on this, judged it neces-
sary to proceed to further extremities : accordingly, she and six of her
chief accomplices were attainted of treason, and the bishop of Roches-
ter and five more were attainted of misprision of treason. But at the
intercession of Queen Anne, (as is expressed in the act,) all others that
had been concerned with her were pardoned.
After this, the nun and her coadjutors were executed at Tyburn. —
There she voluntarily confessed herself to be an impojtor, and ac-
knowledged the justice of her sentence, laying the blame on those who
suffered with her, by whom she had been seduced into the crime; add-
ing, that they had exalted her for no other cause than for her having
been of great profit to them, and that they had presumed to say, that
all she had done was through the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, when
they were sensible the whole was a trick. She then begged pardon of
God and the king, and resigned herself to her fate.
Had this fallen out in a darker age, the king might have lost his
crown by it. But at the present era, the discovery of it disposed men
to look on older stories of trances, &c. as contrivances to serve base
ends, and made way for the ruin of the monastic order in England ;
but all that followed at present upon it was, that the observants were
put out of their houses, arid mixed with the other Franciscans, and
the Austin friars were put in their room.
Upon the discovery of the above imposture, Cromwell sent Fisher's
brother to him to reprove him for his carriage in that business, and
to aavise nmi to ask the king's pardon for the encouragement he had
given to the nun, which he was confident the king would grant him.
214 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
But Fisher excused himself, and said, he had only tried whether her
revelations were true or not. He confessed, that upon the reports ho
had heard, he was induced to have a high opinion of her, and that he
had never discovered any falsehood in her. It was true she had said
some things to him concerning the king's death which he had not re-
vealed, but he thought it was not necessary to do it, because he knew
she had told them to the king herself; she had named no person that
should kill the king, but had only denounced it as a judgment of God
upon him ; and he had reason to think that tlie king would have been
oflended with him, if he had spoken of it to him; he therefore desired
to be no more troubled with the matter. But, upon that, Cromwell
wrote him a sharp letter, wherein he showed him that he had pro-
ceeded rashly in that affair ; being so partial in the matter of the
king's divorce, that he easily believed every thing that seemed to
make agaii^st it ; he showed him how necessary it was to use great
caution before extraordinary things should be received, or spread
about as revelations, since otherwise the peace of the world would be
in the hands of every bold or crafty impostor; yet, in conclusion, he
advised him" again to ask the king's pardon for his rashness, and as-
sured him that the king was ready to forgive him. But Fisher would
make no submission, and was in consequence included in the act ; yet
it was not executed till a new provocation drew him into farther trou-
ble. The secular and regular clergy did every Avhere swear the oath
of succession, which none more zealously promoted than Gardiner,
who before the 6th of May prevailed on all his clergy to swear it:
and the religious orders being apprehensive of the king's jealousies of
them, took care to remove them by sending in declarations, under the
seals of their houses, that in their opinion the king's present marriage
was lawful, and that they would always acknowledge him head of the
church of England.
The council met at Lambeth, to which many were cited for the
purpose of taking the oath, among whom was Sir Thomas More and
Bishop Fisher. More was first called on to take it : he answered, that
he neither blamed those that made the acts, nor those that swore the
oath ; and that he was willing to swear to maintain the succession to
the crown, but could not take the oath as it was conceived. Fisher
made the same answer, but all the rest that were cited before them
look it. More was pressed to give his reasons against it; but he re-
fused, for it might be called disputing against law, yet he would put
them into writing if the king would command him to do it. Cranmer
said, if he did not blame those that took it, it seems he was not per-
suaded it was a sin, and so was only doubtful of it ; but he was sure
he ought to obey the law, if it was not sinful ; so there was a certainty
on the one hand, and only a doubt on the other, and therefore the
former ought to determine him : this he confessed did shake him a lit-
tle, but he said he thought in his conscience that it woidd be a sin to
comply. In conclusion, both he and Fisher declared that they
thought it was in the power of the parliament to settle the succession
to the crown, and so were ready to swear to that ; but they could not
take the oath that was tendered to them, for by it they must swear
that the king's former marriage was unlawful,- to which they could not
assent ; so thoy were both committed to the tower, and denied the use
of pen, ink, and paper. The old bishop was also har'"*' used both in
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 215
liis clothes and diet ; he had only Tags to cover him, and fire was of-
ten denied him ; a cruelty not capable of excuse, and as barbarous as
it was unceserved.
In the winter, parliament met again, and the first act that passed
declared the king to be the supreme head on earth of the church of
England, which M^as ordered to be prefixed to his other titles ; and it
was enacted, that he and his successors should have full authority to
reform all heresies and abuses in the spiritual jurisdiction. By ano-
ther act the parliament confirmed the oath of succession, which had not
been specified in the former act, though agreed to by the lords. They
also gave the king the first fruits and tenths of ecclesiastical bene-
fices, as being the supreme head of the church. Another act passed,
declaring some things treason ; one of these was ihe denying the
king any of hij titles, or the calling him heretic, schismatic, or usur-
per of the crown. By another act, provision was made for setting up
twenty-six suflragan bishops over England, for the more speedy ad-
ministration of the sacraments, and the better service of God. The
bishop of the diocese was to present two to the king, and upon the
king's declaring his choice, the archbishop was to consecrate the per-
sen, and then the bishop was to delegate such parts of his charge to
his care as he thought fitting, during his pleasure. The great extent
of the dioceses in England, made it hard for one bishop to govern
them with that exactness that was necessary ; these were therefore
appointed to assist in the discharge of the pastoral functions.
Bishop Fisher and Sir Thomas More, by two special acts, were at-
tainted of misprision of treason ; five other clerks were in like manner
condemned, all for refusing to swear the oath of succession. The see
of Rochester was declared void ; and continued vacant two years.
But now a new scene commenced ; before we enter upon which,
it will be necessary to state the progress that the new opinions had
made in England during the king's suit of divorce. Under Wolsey's
ministry, the reformed preachers were gently used ; and it is proba-
ble the king ordered the bishops to cease inquiring after them, when
the pope began to use him ill ; for the progress of heresy was always
reckoned at Rome among the mischiefs that would follow upon tjie
pope's rejecting the king's suit. But Sir Thomas More, coming into
favour, ofllered new counsels, and thought the king's proceeding se-
verely against heretics would be so meritorious at Rome, that it would
work more effectually than all his threatenings had done. Upon this,
a severe proclamation was issued out, both against their books and
persons, ordering all the laws against them to be put in execution.
Translation of the New Testament into English.
Tindal and others at Antwerp were every year either translating
or writing books against some of the received errors, and sending
them over to England. But the translation of the New Testament,
by Tindal, gave the greatest oflfence, and was much complained of
by the clergy, as full of errors. Tonstall, then bishop of London,
returning from Cambray, to which jdace More and he had been sent
by the king, as he came through Antwerp, bargained with an English
merchant, who was secretly a friend of Tindal, to procure him as
many of his New Testaments as could be had for money. Tindal
gladly received this ; for being about a more correct edition, he
216 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
found he would be better enabled to proceed, if the copies of the old
were sold off; he therefore gave the merchant all he had, and Ton-
stall, paying for them, brought them over to England, and burnt them
publicly in Cheapside. This was called a burning of the word ol
God ; and it was said the clergy had reason to revenge themselves
on it, for it had done them more mischief than all other books what-
soever. But a year after this, the second edition being finished, great
numbers Vv^ere sent over to England, when Constantine, one of Tin-
dal's partners, happened to be taken: believing that some of the Lon-
don merchants furnished them with money, he was promised his
liberty if he would discover who they were ; upon this he said the
bishop of London did more than all the world besides, for he bought
up the greatest part of a faulty impression. The clergy, on their con-
demning Tindal's translation, promised a new one : but a year after,
they said, that it was not necessary to publish the scriptures in Eng-
lish, and that the king did well not to set about it.
About this time, a book, written by Fish, of Gray's Inn, was pub-
lished. It was entitled, "The Supplication of the Beggars," and
had a vast sale. In it, the beggars were made to complain, that the
alms of the people were intercepted by mendicant friars, who were a
viseless burden to the government ; and to tax the pope with cruelty
for taking no pity on the poor, since none but those who could pay for
it, were delivered out of purgatory. The king was so pleased with
this, that he would not suffer any thing to be done against the author.
Sir Thomas More answered it by another supplication in behalf of the
souls in purgatory, setting forth the miseries they were in, and the
relief which they received by the masses that were said for them ;
and therefore they called upon their friends to support the religious
orders, M'hich had now so many enemies.
Frith published a serious answer to the last mentioned work, in
which he showed that there was no mention made of purgatory iii
scripture ; that it was inconsistent with the merits of Christ, b>
which, upon sincere repentance, all sins were pardoned ; for if thej
were pardoned, they could not be punished ; and though temporary
judgments, either as medicinal corrections, or a warning to others, do
sometimes fall even on true penitents, yet terrible punishments in ano-
ther state cannot consist with a free pardon, and the remembering
of our sins no more. In expounding many passages of the New
Testament, he appealed to More's great friend Erasmus, and showed,
that the fire which was spoken of by St. Paul, as that which
would consume the wood, hay, and stubble, could only be meant
of the fiery trial of persecution. He showed that the primitive
church received it not ; Ambrose, Jerome, and Austin, did not believe
it ; the last had plainly said, that no mention was made of it in scrip-
ture. The monks alone brought it in ; and by many wonderful sto-
ries, persuaded their ignorant followers of the truth of it, and so made
a very profitable trade. This book so provoked the clergy, that they
resolved to make the author feel a real fire, for endeavouring to ex-
tinguish their imaginary one. Sir Thomas More objected poverty
and want of learn'ng to the new preachers; but it was answered, the
same was made use of to reproach Christ and his apostles ; but a
plain simplicity of mind, without artificial improvements, was rathei
thought a good disposition for men that were to bear a cross, and the
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 217
glory of God appeared more eminently when tlie instruments seemec!
contemptible.
But the pen being thought too feeble and gentle, the clergy betook
themselves to persecution. Many were vexed with imprisonments
for teaching their cliildren the Lord's prayer in English, for harbour-
ing the reformed preachers, and for speaking against the corruptions
and vices of the clergy.
Hinton, formerly a curate, who had gone over to Tindal, was seized
on his way back, with some books he was conveying to England, and
was condemned by Archbishop Warham. He was kept long in pri-
son ; but remaining firm in the truth, he was, at length, burned at
Maidstone.
Story and Martyrdom of Thomas Bilney.
Thomas Bilney was brought up at Cambridge from a child. On
leaving the university, he preached in sevei-al places ; and in his ser-
mons spoke with great boldness against the pride and insolence of the
clergy. This was during the ministry of Cardinal Wolaey, who,
hearing of his attacks, caused him to be seized and imprisoned
Overcome with fear, Bilney abjured, was pardoned, and returned to
Cambridge, in the year 1530. Here he fell into great horror of
mind, in consequence of his instability and denial of the truth. He
became ashamed of himself, bitterly repented of his sin, and, growing
strong in faith, resolved to make some atonement by a public avowal
of his apostacy, and confession of his sentiments. To prepare him-
self for his task, he studied the scriptures with deep attention for two
years ; at the expiration of which he again quitted the university, went
into Norfolk, where he was born, and preached up and down that county
against idolatry and superstition ; exhorting the people to a good life,
to give alms, to believe in Christ, and to offer up their souls to him in
the sacrament. He openly confessed his own sin of denying the faith ;
and using no precaution as he went about, was soon taken by the
bishop's officers, condemned as a relapse, and degraded. Sir Thomas
More sent down the writ to burn him. Parker, afterwards archbishop,
was an eye witness of his sufferings, and affirms, that he bore all his
hardships with great fortitude and resignation, and continued very
cheerful after his sentence. He eat up the poor provision that was
brought him heartily, saying, he must keep up a ruinous cottage till it
fell. He had these words of Isaiah often in his mouth, " When thou
walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burnt ;" and by burning his
finger in the candle, he prepared himself for the stake; saying, the fire
would only consume the stubble of his body, and would purify his soul.
On the 10th of November he was brought to the stake, where he
repeated the creed, prayed earnestly, and with the deepest sense re-
peated these words, " Enter not into judgment with thy servant, oh
Lord !" Dr. Warner, who attended, embraced him, shedding many
tears, and wishing he might die in as good a frame of mind as Bilney
then was. The friars requested him to inform the people, that they
were not instrumental to his death, which he did ; so that the last act
of his life was one of charity and forgiveness.
The officers then put the reeds and faggots about his body, and set
fire to the first, which made a great flame, and disfigured his face : he
2] 8 BOOR OF MARTYRS.
iield up his hands, and struck his breast, crying sometimes " Jesus ;
sometimes " Credo !" but the flame was blown away from liim seve
ral times, the wind being very high, till at length the wood taking fire,
the flame was stronger, and so lie yielded up the ghost.
His body being shrunk up, leaned down on the chain, till one of the
ofiicers, with his halbert, struck out the staple of the chain behind
him, on which it fell down into the bottom of the fire, when it was
covered with wood, and consumed.
The sufferings, the confession, and the heroic death of this martyr,
inspirited and animated others to imitate his conduct.
Byjicld and others burnt.
Byfield, who had formerly abjured, was taken dispersing Tindal's
books ; and he, with one Tewkesbury, was condemned by Stokesly,
and burnt. Two men and a woman also suffered the same fate at
York. Upon these proceedings, the parliament complained to the
king ; but this did not check the sanguinary proceedings of the clergy.
One Bainham, a counsellor of the temple, was taken on suspicion of
heresy, whipped in the presence of Sir T. More, and afterwards
racked in the tower, yet he could not be w^rought on to accuse any,
but through fear he abjured. After this, however, being discharged,
he was in great trouble of mind, and could find no quiet till he went
publicly to church, where he openly confessed his sins, and declared
the torments he felt in his conscience for what he had done. Upon
this he was again seized on, and condemned for having said that Tho-
mas Becket was a murderer, and was damned if he did not repent ;
and that in the sacrament, Christ's body was received by faith, and not
chewed with the teeth. Sentence was passed upon him, and he was
burnt. Soon after this. More delivered up the great seal, in conse-
quence of which the reformed preachers had a short respite.
But the persecution was soon revived, and its rage stopped not at
the living, but vented itself even on the dead. Lord Tracy made a
will, by which he left his soul to God, in hopes of mercy through
Christ, without the help of any saint; and, therefore, be declared, that
he would leave nothing for soul-masses. This will being brought to
the bishop of London's court to be proved, after his death, provoked
the clergy so much,* that he was condemned as a heretic, and an
order was sent to the chancellor of Worcester to raise his body ; but
he went beyond his instructions, and burnt it, which could not be jus-
tified, since the deceased was not a relapse. Tracy's heir sued Lim for
it, and he was turned out of his place, and fined 400Z.
The clergy proclaimed an indulgence of forty days pardon, to any
that carried a faggot to the burning of a heretic, that so cruelty might
seem the more meritorious.
The reformed now enjoyed a respite of two years, when the crafty
Gardiner represented to the king, that it would tend much to his ad-
vantage, if he woidd take some occasion to show his hatred of heresy
* We shall not be surprised at thef r anger, if we consiJer, that they foresaw, in the
event of Lord Tracy's example bein ' followed, the abolition of the most profitable part
of their traffic. They railed agaij,st him on the same grounds as Demetrius the sil-
versmith did against Paul at Ephef os— they feared that " their craft was in danger '
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 219
Accordbgiy a young man named Frith was chosen as a sacrifice to
this afl'ected zeal for religion.
Story and Martyrdom of Frith.
lie was a young man much famed for his learning, and was the
first who M'rote in England against the corporeal presence in the sa-
crament. He followed the doctrine of Zuinglius.
For his opinions he was seized in May, 1533, and brought before
Stokesly, Gardiner, and Longland. They charged him with not be-
lieving in purgatory and transubstantiation. He gave the reasons
that determined him to look on neither of these as articles of faith
but thought that neither the affirming nor denying them ought to be
determined positively. The bishops seemed unwilling to proceed to
sentence ; but he continuing resolute, Stokesly pronounced it, and so
delivered him to the secular arm, desiring that his punishment might
be moderated. This request was thought a mockery, when all the
world knew that it was intended to burn him. One Hewit, an ap-
prentice of London, was also condemned with him on the same
account.
They were brought to the stake at Smithfield on the 5th of July,
1533. On arriving there, Frith expressed great joy, and hugged the
faggots with transport : a priest named Cook, who stood by, called to
the people not to pray for them more than they would do for a dog ;
at this Frith smiled, and prayed God to forgive him : after which the
fire was kindled, which consumed them to ashes.
This was the last instance of the cruelty of the clergy at that
time ; for the act, formerly mentioned, regulating their proceedings,
followed soon after. Phillips, at whose complaint that bill was be-
gun, was committed on suspicion of heresy, a copy of Tracy's will
being found about him ; but he being required to abjure, appealed to
the king as supreme head, and upon that was set at liberty ; but
whether he was tried by the king or not, is not upon record.
The act gave the new preachers and their followers some respite.
The king was also empowered to reform all heresies and idolatries :
and his aflairs obliged him to unite himself to the princes of Ger-
many, that, by their means, he might so embroil the emperor's aftairs,
as not to give him leisure to turn his arms against England ; and
this produced a slackening of all severities against them : for those
princes, in the first fervour of the reformation, made it an article in
all their treaties, that none should be persecuted for favouring their
doctrine. The queen also openly protected the reformers ; she took
Latimer and Shaxton to be her chaplains, and promoted them to the
bishoprics of Worcester and Salisbury.
Cranmer was fully convinced of the necessity of a reformation,
and that he might cajry it on with true judgment, and justify it by
good authorities, he .nade a good coll' action of the opinions of the
ancient fathers, and 'ater doctors, in a'i the points of religion, com-
prising six folio vrJumes. He was a man of great candour, and
much patience and industry ; and sf / was on all accf unts well pre-
pared for that worl , to which the prf/vidence of God 7/ow called him ;
and though he was in some things too much subjf ct to the king's
imperious tempei, yet in the ma'ter of the six ar',icles, he showed
that he wanted not the courage thr.t became a bishf/p in so critical an.
220 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
affair. Cromwell was his great and constant friend; a man of mean
birth, but of excellent qualities, as appeared in his adhering to his
master Wolsey, after his fall : a rare demonstration of gratitude in a
courtier to a disgraced favourite.
As Cranmer and Cromwell set themselves to carry on a reforma-
tion, another party was formed who as vigorously opposed it. This
was headed by the duke of Norfolk and Gardiner ; and almost all the
clergy lent their strength to it. They persuaded the king that no-
thing would give the pope or the emperor so much advantage, as his
making any changes in religion ; and it would reflect much on him,
if he, who had written so learnedly for the faith, should from spite to
the pope, make any changes in it. Nothing would encourage other
princes so much to follow his example, or keep his subjects so faith-
ful to him, as his continuing steadfast in the ancient religion.
These reasonings made great impressions on him. But, on the
other hand, Cranmer represented to him that, if he rejected the pope's
authority, it was very absurd to let such opinions or practices continue
in the church, as had no other foundation but papal decrees : he ex-
horted the king to depend on God, and hope for good success if he
proceeded in this matter according to the duty of a Christian prince.
England, he said, was a complete body within itself; and though in
the Roman empire, when united under one prince, general councils
were easily assembled, yet now many difficulties were in the way, for
it was evident, that though both the emperor and the princes of Ger-
many had for twenty years desired a general council, it could not be
obtained of the pope ; he had indeed offered one at Mantua, but that
was only an illusion. Every prince ought, therefore, to reform the
church in his dominions by a national synod.
Upon this, the king desired some of the bishops to give their opi-
nion concerning the emperor's power of calling councils : so Cran-
mer, Tonstal, Clark, and Goodrick, made answer, that though, an-
ciently, councils were called by the Roman emperors, yet that was
done by reason of the extent of their monarchy, which had now
ceased, and other princes had an entire monarchy within their own
dominions.
The Reformers favoured by the Court.
The nobility and gentry were generally well satisfied with the
enange in ecclesiastical affairs : but the body of the people, being more
under the power of the priests, were filled with great fears on the sub-
ject. It was said, among them, that the king now joined himself to
heretics; that the queen, Cranmer, and Cromwell, favoured them. It
was left free to dispute what were articles of faith, and what were
only the decrees of popes ; and the most important changes might be
made, under the pretence, that they only rejected those opinions which
were supported by the papal authority.
The monks and friars saw themselves left at the king's mercy.
Their bulls could be no longer useful to them. The trade of new
saints, or indulgences, was now at an end ; they had also some intima-
tions that Cromwell was forming a project for suppressing them ; as
they thought it necessary far their own preservation to embroil the
king's affairs as much as it was possible ; therefore, both in confessions
and discourses, they laboured to infuse into the people a dislike of his
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 22 1
proceedings : but these practices at home, and the intrigues of Cardi-
nal Pole abroad, the libels that were published, and the rebellions that
were raised in England, wro-ught so much on the king's temper, na-
turally imperious and boisterous, that he became too prone to acts of
severity, and his new title of head of the church seemed to have in-
creased his former vanity, and made him fancy that ail his subjects
were bound to regulate their belief by the measures he set them. The
bishops and abbots did what they could to free the king of any jea-
lousies he might have of them; and of their own accord, before any
law was made about it, swore to maintain his supremacy.
Cromwell made Vicar-General.
The first act of his new power Avas the making Cromwell vicar-ge-
neral, and visiter of all the monasteries and churches of England, with
a delegation of the king's supremacy to him ; he was also empowered
to give commissions subaltern to himself; and all wills, where the
estate was in value above £200, were to be proved in his court. This
was afterwards enlarged : he was made the king's vicegerent in eccle-
siastical matters, had the precedence of all persons except the royal
family ; and his authority was in all points the same as had been for-
merly exercised by the pope's legates.
Pains were taken to engage all the clergy to declare for the supre-
macy. At Oxford a public determination was made, to which every
member assented, that the pope had no more authority in England than
any other foreign bishop. The Franciscans at Richmond made some
opposition ; they said, by the rule of St. Francis, they were bound to
obey the holy see. The bishop of Litchfield told them that all the
bishops in England, all the heads of houses, and the most learned di-
vines, had signed that proposition. St. Francis made his rule in Italy,
where the bishop of Rome was metropolitan, but that ought not to
extend to England : and it was shown that the chapter cited by them,
was not written by him, but added since ; yet they continued positive
in their refusal to sign it.
General Visitation of the Monasteries.
It was well known that the monks and friars, though they complied
with the times, yet hated this new power of the king's ; the people were
also startled at it : so one Dr. Leighton, who had been in Wolsey's
service with Cromwell, proposed a general visitation of all the religious
houses in England ; and thought that nothing would reconcile the na-
tion so much to the king's supremacy, as to see some good effects flow
from it. Others deemed this was too bold a step, and feared it would
provoke the religious orders too much. Yet it was known that they
were guilty of such disorders, as nothing could so efl^ectually check as
inquiry. Cranmer led the way to this by a metropolitan visitation,
for which he obtained the king's license ; he took care to see that the
pope's name was struck out of all the offices of the church, and that
the king's supremacy was generally acknowledged.
In October the general visitation of the monasteries was begun ; and
the visiters were instructed to inquire, whether the houses had the full
number according to their foundation? If they performed divine wor-
ship at the appointed hours ? What exemptions they had ? What were
their statutes ? How their superiors Avere chosen ? Whether they lived
according to the severities of their orders ? How their lands and reve-
222 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
nues were managed ? What hospitality was kept ? What care was taken
of the novices ? What benefices were in their gift, and how they dis-
posed of them ? How the inclosures of the nunneries were kept? Whe-
ther the nuns went abroad, or if men were admitted to come to them 1
How they employed their time, and what priests they had as their
confessors ?
The visiters were also ordered to deliver some injunctions in the
king's name, as to his supremacy, and the act of succession ; and were
authorized to absolve every one from any rules or oaths of obedience
to the pope.
They were also ordered to take care that the abbots should not have
choice dishes, but plain tables for hospitality ; and that the scriptures
should be read at meals ; that they should have daily lectures of divi-
nity ; and maintain some of every house at the university, and to re-
quire that the abbot of each monastery should instruct the monks in
true religion, and show them that it did not consist in outward cere-
monies, but in clearness of heart, purity of life, and the worshipping of
God in spirit and truth. Rules were given about their revenues, and
against admitting any under twenty years of age ; and the visiters were
empowered to punish offenders, or to bring them to answer before the
visiter-general.
The visiters went over England, and found in many places monstrous
disorders. The most horrible and disgusting crimes were found to be
practised in many of their houses ; and vice and cruelty were more fre-
quently the inmates of these pretended sanctuaries than religion and
piety. The report contained many abominable things, not fit to be
mentioned : some of these were printed, but the greatest part was tost
The first house that was surrendered to the king was Langden, in
Kent ; the abbot of which was found in bed with a woman, who went in
the habit of a lay brother. To prevent greater evil to himself, he and
ten of his monks signed a resignation of their house to the king. Two
other monasteries in the same county, Folkstone and Dover, followed
their example. And in the following year, four others made the like
surrenders.
Death of Queen Catherine.
On January 8, 1536, Queen Catherine died. She had been resolute
in maintaining her title and state, saying, that since the pope had judg-
ed her marriage was good, she would die rather than do any thing to
prejudice it. She desired to be buried among the Observant friars, who
had most strongly supported her, and suffered for her cause. She or-
dered 500 masses to be said for her soul ; and that one of her women
should go a pilgrimage to our lady of Walsingham, and give two hun,
dred nobles on her way to the poor. When she found death approach-
ing, she wrote to the emperor, recommending her daughter to his care:
also to the king, with this inscription, " My dear lord, king, and hus-
band." She forgave him all the injuries he had done her ; and wish-
ed him to have regard to his soul. She recommended her daughter
to his protection, and desired him to be kind to her three maids, and
to pay her servants a year's wages ; and concluded wilh, " Mine eyes
desire you above all things." She expired at Kimbolton, in the fif-
tieth year of her age, having been thirty-three years in England. She
was devout and exemplary ; patient and charitable. Her virtues and
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 223
her sufferings created an esteem for her in all ranks of people. The
king ordered her to be buried in the abbey of Peterborough, and was
somewhat affected at her death ; but the natural barbarity of his tem-
per prevented him from feeling much remorse on the reflection that
he had embittered the existence of a woman who loved and reve-
renced him.
The same year the parliament confirmed the act empowering thirty-
two persons to revise the ecclesiastical laws ; but no time being limited
for finishing it, it had no effect. The chief business of this session,
was the suppressing of all monasteries whose revenues did not exceed
200Z. a year. The act sets forth the great disorders of those houses,
and the many unsuccessful attempts made to reform them. The reli-
gious that were in them, were ordered to be placed in the greater
houses, and the revenues given to the king. The king was also em
powered to make new foundations of such of the suppressed houses
as h-e pleased, which M'ere in all three hundred and seventy. This
parUament, after six years' continuance, was now dissolved.
A Translation of the Bible proposed.
In a convocation which sat at this time, a motion was made for
translating the Bible into English, Avhich had been promised when
Tindal's translation was condemned, but was afterwards laid aside by
the clergy, as neither necessary nor expedient. It was said, that
those whose office it was to teach the people the word of God, did
all they could to suppress it. Moses, the prophets, and the apostles,
wrote in the vulgar tongue ; Christ directed the people to search the
scriptures ; and as soon as any nation was converted to the Christian
religion, the Bible was translated into their language ; nor was it ever
taken out of the hands of the people, till the Christian religion was so
corrupted, that it was deemed impolitic to trust them with a book
which would so manifestly discover those errors ; and the legends, as
agreeing better with those abuses, were read instead of the word of God.
Cranmer thought, that putting the Bible into the people's hands,
would be the most effectual means for promoting the reformation;
and, therefore, moved, that the king might be prayed to order it. But
Gardiner, and all the other party, opposed this vehemently. They
said, that all the extravagant opinions lately broached in Germany,
arose from the indiscreet use of the scriptures. Some of those o])i-
nions were at this time disseminated in England, both against the
divinity and incarnation of Christ, and the usefulness of the sacra-
ments. They, therefore, argued, that during these distractions, the
use of the scriptures would prove a great snare, and proposed that,
instead of them, there might be some short exposition of the Chris-
tian religion put into people's hands, which might keep them in a
certain subjection to the king and the church. But, in spite of their
arguments, the question of the translation was carried in the convo-
cation in the affirmative.
The courtiers were much divided on this point; some said, if the
king gave way to it, he would never be able after that to govern his
people, and that they would break into many divisions. But, on the
other hand, it was maintained, that nothing would make the difference
between the pope's power, and the king's supremacy, appear more
224 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
eminently, than for the one to give the people the free use of the
word of God ; while the other kept them in darkness, and ruled them
by a blind obedience. It would do much also in extinguishing the
interest that either the pope or the monks had among the people.
The BibJe would teach them that they had been long deceived by
impostures, which had no foundation in the scriptures. These rea-
sons, strengthened by the queen's representations to the king, pre-
vailed so far with him, that he gave order for setting about this im-
portant affair with all possible haste, and within three years the im
pression of it was finished.
The popish party saw, with disappointment and concern, that the
queen was the great obstacle to their designs. She grew not only in
the king's esteem, but in the love of the nation. During the last nine
months of her life she bestowed above 14,000L in alms to the poor,
and seemed to delight in doing good. Soon after Catherine's death,
Anne bore a dead son, which was believed to have made an unta-
vourable impression on the king's mind. It was also considered, that
now Queen Catherine was dead, the king might marry another, and
regain the friendship of the pope and the emperor, and that the issue
by any other marriage would never be questioned. "With these rea-
sons of state the king's affections joined ; for he was noAV in love
(if so heartless a monster was capable of feeling love) with Jane
Seymour, whose disposition was tempered between the gravity of
Catherine, and the gayety of Anne. The latter used all possible arts
to re-inflame his dying affection ; but he was weary of her, and, there-
fore, determined on her destruction ; to effect which he soon found a
pretence. Lady Rochford, wife to the brother of Anne, basely ac-
cused her husband of a criminal intercourse with his sister ; and Nor-
ris, Weston, and Brereton, the king's servants, with Smcton, a musi-
cian, were accused of the same crime.
She was confined to her chamber, and the five persons before men-
tioned, were sent to the tower, whither, the next day, she also was
carried. On the river some privy counsellors came to examine her,
but she made deep protestations of her innocence -, and, on landing at
the tower, she fell on her knees, and prayed God to assist her, pro-
testing her innocence of the crimes laid to her charge. Those who
were imprisoned on her account denied every thing, except Smeton,
who, from hopes of favour and acquittal, confessed that he had been
criminally connected with her; but denied it when he was afterwards
brought to execution.
The queen was of a lively temper, and having resided long in the
French court, had imbibed somewhat of the levities of that people.
She was also free from pride, and hence, in her exterior, she might
have condescended too much to her familiar servants.
Every court sycophant was now her enemy ; and Cranmer formed
the only, and honourable exception. An order was, therefore, procured,
forbidding him to come to court ; yet he wrote the king a long letter
upon this critical juncture, wherein he acknowledged, that " if the
things reported of the queen were true, it was the greatest aflliction
that ever befel the king, and, therefore, exhorted him to bear it with
patience and submission to the will of God ; he confessed he never
had a better opinion of any woman than of her ; and that, next the
king, he was more bound to her than to all persons living, and there-
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PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 225
lore lie begged the king's leave to pray that she might be found inno-
cent, he loved her not a little, because of the love which she seemed
to bear to God and his gospel ; but if she was guilty, all that loved the
gospel must hate her, as having been the greatest slander possible to
the gospel ; but he prayed the king not to entertain any prejudice to
the gospel on her account, nor give the world to say, that his love to
that was founded on the influence she had with him." But the king
was inexorable. The prisoners were put on their trial ; when Smea-
ton pleaded guilty, as before ; the rest pleaded not guilty ; but all
were condemned.
Trial and Execution of the Queen.
On the 15th of May, the Queen and her brother. Lord Rochford, were
tried before the duke of Norfolk, as high steward, and a court of twen-
ty-seven peers. The crime charged on her was, that she had pro-
cured her brother and four others to lie with her ; and had often said to
them, that the king never had her heart ; and this was to the slander
of the issue begotten between the king and her, which was treason by
the act that confirmed her marriage, so that the act made for her mar-
riage was now turned to her ruin. They would not now acknowledge
her the king's lawful wife, and therefore did not found the treason on
the statute 25tli Edward III. It does not appear what evidence was
brought against her ; for Smeaton being already condemned, could not.
be made use of; and his never being brought face to face with her,.
gave just suspicion that he was persuaded to his confession by base
practices. There was no other evidence than a declaration said to
have been made by the Lady Wingfield, who died before the trial took
place ; so that whether this declaration were real or a forgery, must
be very doubtful.
The earl of Northumberland was one c( the judges. He had for-
merly been in love with the queen, and, either from a return of his pas-
sion, or from some other cause, he became suddenly so ill, that he
could not stay out the trial. It was remembered that this earl had
said to Cardinal Wolsey, that he had engaged himself so far with her,
that he could not go back, which was perhaps done by some promise
conceived in words of the future tense ; but no promise, unless in
the words of the present tense, could annul the subsequent marriage.
Perhaps the queen did not understand that difference, or probably the
fear of a terrible death Avrought so much on her, that she confessed the
contract ; but the earl denied it positively, and took the sacrament
upon it, wishing that it might turn to his damnation, if there was ever
either contract or promise of marriage betv.een them. Upon her own
confession, however, her marriage with the king was judged null from
the beginning, and she Avas condemned, although nothing could be
more contradictory ; for if she was never the king's Avife, she could
not be guilty of adultery, there being no breach of the faith of Avedlock.
if they Avere never truly married. But the king Avas resolved both
to be rid of her, and to illegitimatizc his daughter by her.
The day before her death, she sent her last message to the king,
asserting her innocence, recommended her daughter to his care, ami
thanking him for his advancing her first to be a marchioness, then a
qu^en, and now, A\dien he could raise her no higher on earth, for send-
ing her to be a saint in heaven. The lieutenant of the toAver Avrote
15
226 BOOK OF MAR TYRS,
to ('romwell, mat it was not fit to publish the time of her executicn.
for the fewer that were present it would be the better, since he be-
lieved she would declare her innocence at the hour of her death ; for
that morning she had made great protestations of it when she receiv-
ed the sacrament, and seemed to long for death Avith great joy and
pleasure. On being told that the executioner, who had been sent for
expressly from France, was very skilful, she expressed great happi-
ness : for she said she had a very short neck, at which she laughed.
A little before noon, she was brought to the place of execution ;
there were present some of the chief officers and great men of the
court. She was, it seems, prevailed on, out of regard to her daugh-
ter, to make no reflections on the cruel treatment she met with, nor to
say any thing touching the grounds on which sentence passed against
her. She only desired that all would judge the best ; she highly com-
mended the king, and then took her leave of the world. She remain-
ed for some time in her private devotions, and concluded, " To Christ
I commend my soul ;" upon which the executioner struck off her
head : and so little respect was paid to he-r body, that it was with bru-
tal insolence put in a chest of elm-tree, made to send arrows into Ire-
land, and then buried in the chapel in the tower. Norris then
had life promised him if he would accuse her. But this faithful and
virtuous servant said he knew she was innocent, and would die a
thousand deaths rather than defame her ; so he and the three others
were beheaded, and all of them continued to the last to vindicate her.
The day after Queen Anne's death, the king married Jane Seymour,
who gained more upon him than all his wives ever did ; but she was
fortunate that she did not outlive his love to her.
The Pope proposec: a reconciliation with the King.
Pope Clement the Seventh was now dead, and Cardinal Farnese
succeeded him by the name of Paul the Third, who made an attempt
to reconcile himself with the king ; but, when that was rejected, thun-
dered out a most terrible sentence of deposition against him. Yet now,
since the two queens upon whose account the breach was made were
out of the way he thought it a fit time to attempt the recovery of the
papal interest, and ordered Cassali to let the king know that he had
been driven, very much against his mind, to pass sentence against
him, and that now it would be easy for him to recover the favour of
the apostolic see.
But the king, instead of hearkening to the proposition, caused two
acts to be passed, by one of which it was made a praemunire for any
one to acknowledge the authority of the pope, or to persuade others
to it ; and by the other, all bulls, and all privileges floAving from them,
were declared null and void ; only marriages and consecrations made
by virtue of them were excepted. All who enjoyed privileges by
these bulls were required to bring them into the chancery, upon which
th 3 archbishop was to make a new grant to them, which, being con-
fi .Tiled under the great seal, was to be of full force in law.
Debates of the Convocation.
The convocation sat at the same time, and was much employed.
Latimer preached a Latin sermon before them ; he was the most cele-
brated preacher of that time ; the simplicity of his m.atter, and his
zeal in expressing it, being preferred to more elaborate compositions
PKOGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 227
The convocation first confirmed the sentence of divorce between the
king and Queen Anne. Tlien the lower house made an address lo
the upper house, complaining of sixty-seven opinions, which they
feund were very much spread in the kingdom. These were either the
tenets of the old Lollards, or of the new Reformers, or of the Anabap-
tists ; and mnny of them were only indiscreet expressions, which
might have flowed from the heat and folly of some rash zealots, who
had endeavoured to disgrace both the received doctrines and rites.
They also complained of some bishops who were wanting in their
duty to suppress such abuses. This was understood as a reflection on
Cranmer, Shaxton, and Latimer, the first of whom, it was thought, was
now declining, in consequence of the fall of Queen Anne.
But all these projects failed, for Cranmer was now fully establish-
ed in the king's favour ; and Cromwell was sent to the convocation,
with a message from his majesty, that they should reform the rites
and ceremonies of the church, according to the rules set down in
scripture, which ought to be preferred to all glosses or decrees of
popes.
There was one Alesse, a Scotchman, whom Cromwell entertained
in his house, who being appointed to deliver his opinion, showed that
there were no sacraments instituted by Christ, but baptism and the
Lord's supper. Stokesly answered him in a long discourse upon the
principles of the school-divinity ; upon which Cranmer took occasion
to show the vanity of that sort of learning, and the uncertainty of tra-
dition; and that religion had been so corrupted in the latter ages, that
there was no finding out the truth but by resting on the authority of
the scriptures. Fox, bishop of Hereford, seconded him, and told
them that the w^orld was now awake, and would be no longer imposed
on by the niceties and dark terms of the schools ; for the laity now did
not only read the scriptures in the vulgar tongues, but searched the
originals themselves ; therefore they must not think to govern them
as they had been governed, in the times of ignorance. Among the
bishops, Cranmer, Goodrich, Shaxton, Latimer, Fox, Hilsey, and
Barlow, pressed the reformation ; but Lee, archbishop of York,
Stokesly, Tonstall, Gardiner, Longland, and several others, opposed
it as much. The contest would have been much sharper, had not
the king sent some articles to be considered of by them, when the fol-
lowing mixture of truth and error was agreed upon.
L That the bishops and preachers ought to instruct the people ac-
cording to the scriptures, the three creeds, and the first four general
councils.
2. That baptism was necessary to salvation, and that children
ought to be baptized for the pardon of original sin, and obtaining the
Holy Ghost.
3. That penance was necessary to salvation, and that it consisted in
confession, contrition, and amendment of life, with the external works
of charity, to which a lively faith ought to be joined ; and that con-
fession to a priest was necessary where it might be had.
4. That in the eucharist, under the forms of bread and wine, the
very flesh and blood of Christ was received.
5. That justification was the remission of sins, and a perfect reno-
vation in Christ ; and that not only outward good works, but inward
holiness, was absolutely necessary. As for the outward ceremonies.
228 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
the people were to be tanglit, 1. That it was meet to have images in
churches, but they ought to avoid all such superstition as had been
usual in times past, and not to worship t];e image, but only God. 2
That they Vv-ere to honour the saints, but not to expect those things
from, them which God only gives. 3. That they might pray to them
for their intercession, but all superstitious abuses were to cease; and
if the king should lessen the number of saint's days, they ought to obey
him. 4. That the use of the ceremonies was good, and that they con-
tained many mystical significations that tended to raise the mind to-
wards God; such were vestments in divine worship, holy water, holy
bread, the carrying of candles, and palms and ashes, and creeping to
the cross, and hallowing the font, Avith other exorcisms. 5. That it
was good to pray for departed souls, and to have masses and exequies
said for them ; but the scriptures having neither declared in what
place they were, nor what torments they suffered, that was uncertain,
and to be left to God ; therefore all the abuses of the pope's pardons,
or saying masses in such and such places, or before such images,
were to be put away.
These articles were signed by Cromwell, the two archbishops, six-
teen bishops, forty abbots and priors, and fifty of the lower house.
The king afterwards added a preface, declaring the pains that he and
the clergy had been at for the removing the differences in religion
which existed in the nation, and that he approved of these articles, and
required all his subjects to accept them, and he would be thereby en-
couraged to take further pains in the like matters for the future.
On the publication of these things, the favourers of the reformation,
though they did not approve of every particular, yet vrere well pleased
to see things brought under examination : and since some things
were at this time changed, they did not doubt but more changes
would follow ; they were glad that the scriptures and the ancient
creeds were made the standards of the faith, without adding tradition,
and that the nature of justification and the gospel covenant was rightly
stated; that the immediate worship of images and saints was con-
demned, and that purgatory was left uncertain : but the necessity oJ
auricular confession, and the corporeal presence, the doing reve-
rence to images, and praying to the saints, were of hard digestion to
them ; yet they rejoiced to see some grosser abuses removed, and a
reformation once set on foot. The popish party, on the otlier hand,
were sorry to see four sacraments passed over in silence, and the
trade in masses for the dead put doAvn.
At the same time other things were in consultation, though not
finished. Cranmer oflered a paper to the king, exhorting him to pro-
ceed to further reformation, and that nothing should be determined
Avithout clear proofs from scripture, the departing from vA'hich had
been the occasion of all the errors that had been in the church.
Many things Avere now acknowledged to be erroneous, for Avhich
some, not long before, had suftered death. He therefore proposed
several points to be discussed, as. Whether there Avere a purgatory ?
Whether departed saints ought to be invocatcd, or tradition to be be-
lieved? Whether images ought to be considered only as representa-
tions in history? and. Whether it was laAvful for the clergy to marry?
He prayed the king not to give judgment on these points till he heard
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 229
them well examined : but all this was carried no further at thai
period.
At this time visiters were appointed to survey all the lesser monas-
teries : they Avere to examine the state of their revenues and goods,
and take inventories of them, and to take their seals into tlieir keeping,
they were to try how many of the religious would return to a secular
course of life ; and these were to be sent to the archbishop of Canter»
bury, or the lord chancellor, and an allowance was to be given them
for their journey ; but those who intended to continue in that state,
were to be removed to some of the great monasteries. A pension was
also to be assigned to the abbot or prior during life ; and the visiters
were particularly to examine what leases had been made during the
last year. Ten thousand of the religious were by this means driven
to seek for their livings, with forty shillings, and a gown a man.
Their goods and plate were estimated at £100,000, and the valued
rents of their houses was £32,000 ; but they were above ten times as
much. The churches and cloisters were in most places pulled down,
and the materials sold.
This procedure gave great discontent : and the monks were now
as much pitied as they were formerly hated. The nobility and gen-
try, who provided for their younger children or friends by putting
them in those sanctuaries, were sensible of their loss. The people,
who as they travelled over the countxy found abbeys to be places of
reception to strangers, saw what they were to lose. But the super-
stitious, who thought their friends must now lie still in purgatory,
without relief from the masses, were out of measure offended. But
to remove this discontent, Cromwell advised the king to sell these
lands at very easy rates to the nobility and gentry, and to oblige them
to keep up the wonted hospitality. This would both be grateful to
them, and would engage them to assist the crown in the maintenance
of the changes that had i)een made, since their own interests would be
interwoven with those of their sovereign. And, a clause in the act
empowering the king to found anew such houses as he should think fit,
there were fifteen monasteries and sixteen nunneries newly founded.
These were bound to obey such rules as the king should send them,
and to pay him tenths and first fruits. But all this did not pacify the
people, for there was still a great outcry. The clergy studied much
to inflame the nation, and urged, that an heretical prince, deposed by
the pope, was no more to be acknowledged ; and that it was a part
of the papal power to depose kings, and give away their dominions.
There were some injunctions given out by Cromwell, which in-
creased this discontent. All churchmen were required, every Sun-
day for a quarter of a year, and twice every quarter after that, to
preach against the pope's power, and to explain the six articles of
the convocation. They were forbidden to extol images, relics, or
pilgrimages ; but to exhort to works of charity. They were also
required to teach the Lord's prayer, the creed, and the ten command-
m(;nts in English, and to explain these carefully, and instruct the
children well in them. They were to perform the divine ofllces re-
verently, to study the scriptures much, and be exemplary in their
lives. Those who did not reside were to give the fortieth part of
their income to the poor, and for every hundred pounds a year they
were to maintain a scholar at some grammar-school, or the univer-
230 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
sity . and if the parsonage house was in decay, they were ordered to
apply a fifth part of their benefice for repairing it.
Rebellions in Lincolnshire and in Yorkshire.
The people continued quiet until they had got in their harvest ; but
in the beginning of October 20,000 rose in Lincolnshire, led by a
priest in the disguise of a cobbler. They took an oath to be true to
God, the king, and the commonwealth, and sent a statement of their
grievances to the king. They complained of some acts of parlia-
ment, of suppressing of many religious houses, of mean and ill coun-
sellors, and bad bishops ; and prayed the king to redress their grie-
vances by the advice of the nobility. The king sent the duke of Suf-
folk to raise forces against them, and gave an answer to their peti-
tion, in which he treated them with his usual haughtiness, saying,
that " it belonged not to the rabble to direct princes what counsel-
lors they should choose. The religious houses had been suppressed
bv law, and the heads of them had under their hands confessed such
horrid scandals, that they Avere a reproach to the nation ; and as they
wasted their rents in riotous living, it was much better to apply them
to the common good of tlie nation ;" finally, he required the insur-
gents to submit to his mercy, and to deliver up two hundred of their
leaders into the hands of his lieutenants.
At the same time there was a more formidable rising in Yorkshire,
which being not far from Scotland, it was feared the rebels would
draw assistance from that kingdom : this inclined Henry to make
more haste to settle matters in Lincolnshire. He sent them secret
assurances of mercy, which wrought on the greatest part, so that they
dispersed themselves, while the most obstinate went over to those in
Yorkshire. The leader and some others were taken and executed.
The distance of those in the North gave them time to rise, and form
themselves into some method : one Aske commanded in chief, and
performed his part with great dexterity ; their march was called
" the Pilgrimage of Grace;'' they had in their banners and on their
sleeves, a representation of the five wounds of Christ ; they took an
oath that they would restore the church, suppress heretics, preserve
the king and his issue, and drive base-born men and ill counsellors
from him. They became forty thousand strong in a few days, and
forced the archbishop of York and the Lord Darcy to swear to their
covenant, and to go along with them. They besieged Skipton, but
th*^ earl of Cumberland made it good against them : Sir Ralph Evers
held out Scai borough castle, though for twenty days he and his men
had no provisions but bread and water.
There was also a rising in all the other northern counties, against
whom the earl of Shrewsbury made head ; and the king sent several
of the nobility to his assistance, and within a few days the duke of
Norfolk marched with some troops, and joined them. They pos-
sessed themselves of Doncaster, and resolved to keep that pass till
the rest of the king's forces should join them ; for they were not in a
condition to engage with such numbers of desperate men , and it
v/as very likely that if they were beaten, the people who had not yet
taken part with the rebels, might have been emboldened by their suc-
cess t(i do so. The duke of Norfolk resolved, therefore, to kelep
riose at Doncaster, and let the provision* and courage of his adversa-
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 231
ries melt away in inaction. They were now reduced to 10,000, but
the king's army Avas not above 5000. The duke of Norfolk proposed
a treaty; the insurgents were persuaded to send their petitions to the
court, and the king sent them a general pardon, excepting six persons
by nanie, and reserving four to be afterwards named ; but this last de-
mand, instead of satisfying them, made them more desperate. How-
ever, they, in their turn, made demands, which were, that a general
pardon should be granted them ; that a parliament should be held at
York, and that courts of justice should be set up there ; that the
Princess Mary might be restored to her right of succession, and the
pope to his wonted jurisdiction ; that the monasteries might be again
set up ; that Audley and Cromwell might be removed from the king,
and that some of the visiters might be imprisoned for their bribery
and extortion.
These demands being rejected, the rebels resolved to fall upon the
royal troops, and drive them from Doncaster ; but heavy rains made
the river impassable. The king, at length, sent a long answer to their
demands ; he assured them he would live ai:d die in the defence of the
Christian faith ; but " the rabble ought not to prescribe to him, and
to the convocation, in that matter." He answered that which con-
cerned the monasteries as he had done to the men of Lincolnshire. If
they had any just complaints to make of any about him, he was ready
to hear them ; but he would not suffer them to direct him what coun-
sellors he ought to employ ; nor could they judge of the bishops who
had been promoted, they not being known to them ; he charged them
not to believe lies, nor be led away by incendiaries, but to submit to
his mercy. On the 9th of December he signed a proclamation of par-
don without any restrictions.
As soon as this rebellion was quelled, the king went on more reso-
lutely in his design of suppressing the monasteries ; for his success in
crushing so formidable a sedition made him less apprehensive of any
new commotion.
A new visitation was appointed, and many houses which had not
been before dissolved, were now suppressed, and many of the greater
abbots were induced to surrender by several motives. Some had
been engaged in the late rebellion, and so, to prevent a storm, offered
a resignation. Others liked the reformation, and did it on that ac-
count; some were found guilty of great disorders in their lives, and
to prevent a shameful discovery, offered their houses to the king; while
others had made such wastes and dilapidations, that having taken care
of themselves, they were less concerned for others.
By these means one hundred and twenty-one houses were this year
resigned to the king. In most houses the visiter made the monks sign
a confession of their vices and disorders, in Avhich some of them ac-
knowledged their idleness, gluttony, and sensuality ; and others, that
they were sensible that the manner of their former pretended religion
consisted in some dumb ceremonies, by which they were blindly led,
having no true knowledge of God's laws. Some resigned in hopes
that the king would found them anew; these favoured the reformation,
and intended to convert their housp'^ lo better uses, for preaching,
study, and prayer; and Linimer pressed Cromwell earnestly, that
two or three houses might be reserved for such purposes in every
county. But it was resolved to suppress all ; and although it was
232
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
lliought that these resignations conld not be valid, since the mcum
bents had not the property, but only the trust for life of those houses,
the parliament afterwards declared them good in law.
But some of the clergy escaped not Avilh the surrender of their
houses ; the abbots of Whalley, Jervaux, SaAvley, and Glastonbury,
with the priors of Woburn and Burlington, having been deeply impli-
cated in the late commotions, were executed for treason ; and many
of the Carthusians were put to death for denying tiie king's supre-
macy ; others, suspected of favouring them, and of receiving boohs
sent from beyond the sea, against the king's proceedings, were impri-
soned, and many of them perished in their dungeons.
Great complaints were made of the visiters; and it was said, that
they had in many places embezzled much of the plate to their own
u-se, and had been guilty of various enormities under the pretext of
discharo-ino- their duty. They, on the other hand, published accounts
of many of the vile' practices which they found in those houses, so
that several books were printed upon this occasion. Yet all these ac-
counts had not much weight with the people. They deemed it unrea-
sonable to extinguish noble foundations for the fault of some indi
viduals ; therefore another Avay was taken, which had a better effect.
Impostures of Images and Relics discovered.
They disclosed to the world many impostures about pretended re
lies, and wonderful images, to which pilgrimages had been made. At
Reading w^as preserved the wing of an angel, who, according to the
monks, brought over the point of the spear that pierced our Saviour's
side ; and as many pieces of the real cross were found, as, when join-
ed together, would have made half a dozen.
" The Rood of Grace," at Boxley, in Kent, had been much esteem-
ed, and drav/n many pilgrims to it, on account of its possessing the
wonderful powers of bowing its head, rolling its eyes, smihng, and
frownincr, to the great astonishment and terror of the credulous mul-
titude, who imputed it to a divine power ; but all this was now disco-
vered to be a cheat, and it was brought up to St. Paul's cross ; where
all the springs were' shown by which its motions were governed.
At Hales, in Gloucestershire, some of the blood of Christ was
shown in a vial ; and it was believed none could see it who were in
mortal sin. Those who could bestow liberal presents were, of course,
gratified, by being led to believe, that they were in a state of grace.
This miracle consisted in the blood of a duck renewed every week,
put in a vial very thick on one side, and thin on the other ; and either
side turned tow^ards the pilgrim, as the priests were satisfied or not
with his oblations. Several other similar impostures were discovered,
which contributed much to the undeceiving of the people.
The rich shrine of Thomas a Becket at Canterbury was destroyed,
and an immense quantity of gold and precious stones, offered by the
deluded victims of superstition in honour of that factious priest, and
" saint after the pope's own heart," were confiscated and carried
away.
When these proceedings were known at Rome, the pope immedi-
ately fulminated against the king all the thunders of his spiritual store-
house : absolved his subjects from their allegiance, and his allies from
their treaties with him ; and exhorted all Christians to iTiake war
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 333
against and extirpate him from the face of the earth. But the age of
crusades was past, and this display of impotent malice produced only
contempt in the minds of the king and his advisers, who steadily pro-
ceeded in the great work of reformation ; and, the translation of <he
Bible into English being now completed, it was printed, and ordered
to be read in all churches, with permission for every person to read
it, who might be so disposed.
But, notwithstanding the king's disagreement with the pope on many
-ubjects, there was one point on which they were alike — they were
both intolerant, furious bigots ; and while the former was excommu-
nicated as an heretic, he was himself equally zealous in rooting out
heresy, and burning all who presumed to depart from the standard of
faith which he had established.
Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, strengthened this disposition of the
king, and persuaded him, under the pretext of a zeal for religion, to
persecute the Sacramentarists, or those who denied the corporeal pre-
sence in the sacrament.
Martyrdom of John Lambert.
In consequence of this determination, John Lambert, a teacher of
languages in London, who had drawn up ten arguments against the
tenets of Dr. Taylor, on the above subject, as delivered in a sermon
at St. Peter's church, and presented them to the Doctor, was brought
before the archbishops court to defend his writings : and, having a])-
pealed to the king, the royal theologian, who was proud of every oc-
casion of displaying his talents and learning, resolved to hear him in
person. He therefore issued a commission, ordering all his nobility
and bishops to repair to London, to assist him against heretics.
A day was appointed for the disputation, when a great number of
persons of all ranks assembled to witness the proceedings, and Lam-
bert was brought from his prison by a guard, and placed directly op-
posite to the king.
Henry being seated on his throne, and surrounded by the p.. iS,
bishops, and judges, regarded the prisoner with a stern countenance,
and then commanded Day, bishop of Chichester, to state the occasion
of the present assembly.
The bishop made a long oration, stating that, although the king had
abolished the papal authority in England, it was not to be supposed
that he would allow heretics with impunity to disturb and trouble the
church of which he was tlie head. He had therefore determined to
punish all schismatics ; and being willing to have the advice of his
bishops and counsellors on so great an occasion, had assembled them
to hear the arguments in the present case.
The oration being concluded, the king ordered Lambert to declare
his opinion a^: to the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, which he did, by
denying it to be the body of Christ.
The kmg then commanded Cranmer to refute his assertion, which
ihe latter attempted; but v, as interrupted by Gardiner, who vehe-
mently interposed, and, being unable to bring argument to his aid,
sought by abuse and virulence to overpower his antagonist, who was
not allowed to answer the taunts and insults of the bishop.
Tonstal and Stokesly followed in the same course, and I/amberl
beginning to answer them, was silenced by the king. The other bis/mps
234 BOOK OF MARTYRS
then each made a speech in confutation of one of Lambert's arguments.,
tili the whole ten were answered, or rather, railed against : for he was
not permitted to defend them, however misrepresented.
At last, when the day was passed, and torches began to be lighted,
the king desiring to break up this pretended disputation, said to Lam-
bert, "What sayest thou now, after all these great labours which
thou hast taken upon thee, aijd all the reasons and instructions of
these learned men ? Art thou not yet satisfied ? Wilt thou live or die ?
What sayest thou ? Thou hast yet free choice." ,
Lambert answered, " I yield and submit myself wholly unto the will
of your majesty." " Then," said the king, " commit thyself unto ihe
hands of God, and not unto mine."
Lambert replied, " I commend my soul unto the hands of God, but
my body I wholly yield and submit unto your clemency." To which
the king answered, " If you do commit youi'self unto my judgment,
you must die, for I will not be a patron unto heretics ;" and, turning
to Cromwell, he said, " Read the sentence of condemnation against
him," which he accordingly did.
Upon tlie day appointed for this holy martyr to suffer, he was
brought out of the prison at eight o'clock in the morning to the house
of Cromwell, and carried into his inner chamber, where, it is said,
Cromwell desired his forgiveness for what he had done. Lambert be-
ing at last admonished that the hour of his death was at hand, and be-
ing brought out of the chamber, into the hall, saluted the gentlemen
present, and sat down to breakfast with them, showing neither sadness
nor fear. When breakfast was ended, he was carried straight to the
place of execution at Smithfield.
The manner of his death was dreadful ; for after his legs were con-
sumed and burned up to the stumps, and but a small fire was left un-
der him, two of the inhuman monsters who stood on each side of him,
pierced him with their halberts, and lifted him up as far as the chain
would reach, while he, raising his half consumed hands, cried untc
the people in these words : " None but Christ, none but Christ ;" ant"
so being let down again from their halberts, fell into the fire and there
ended his life.
The popish party greatly triumphed at this event, and endeavoured
to improve it. They persuaded the king of the good effects it would
have on his people, who would in this see his zeal for the faith ; and
they forgot not to magnify all that he had said, as if it had been utter
ed by an oracle, which proved him to be both " Defender of the Faith,
and Supreme Head of the Church." All this wrought so much on the
king, that he resolved to call a parliament for the contradictory pur-
poses of suppressing the still remaining monasteries, and extirpating
the " new opinions."
The Act of the Six Articles.
The parliament accordingly met on the 28th of April, 1538 ; and
after long debates, passed what was called " a bill of religion," con-
taining six articles, by which it was declared, that the elements in the
sacrament were the real body and blood of Christ; that communion
was necessary only in one kind ; that priests ought not to marry ; that
vows of chastity ought to be observed ; that private masses were lavi^-
ful and useful ; and that auricular confession was necessary.
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 235
This act gave great satisfaction to the popish party, And induced
them to consent more readily to the act for suppressing the monaste-
ries, which immediately followed ; by virtue of which, their total dis-
solution soon after took place. The king foimded six new bishoprics
from a small portion of their immense revenues, and lavished the re-
mainder on his profligate courtiers and favourites.
In 1540 a hill was passed for the suppression of the knights of St.
John of Jerusalem, both in England and Ireland.
Fall of Cromwell.
In this year also, Cromwell, who had so long been a favourite of the
king, and had held the highest offices, was suddenly disgraced, and
committed to the tower. He had many enemies ; the nobility, from
jealousy at beholding a man of obscure birth promoted to the peerage,
and enjoying great power and influence ; and the popish clergy, from
the belief that the suppression of the monasteries and the innovations
on their religion were principally produced by his counsels. The
uckle tyrant whom he had so long and faithfully served, was also dis-
pleased with him as the adviser of his marriage with Anne of Cleves,
vi'hom he Avas now anxious to get rid of, in order to obtain the hand
of Catherine Howard, niece of the duke of Norfolk. He suspected
him, likewise, of secretly encouraging an opposition to the six arti-
cles, and hoped, by sacrificing a man who was obnoxious to the
catholics, to regain their afl'ections, forfeited by his sanguinary and
rapacious proceedings.
' Cromwell expevienced the common fate of fallen ministers ; his pre-
tended friends forsook him, and his enemies pursued their revenge
against him without opposition, except from Cranmer, who, with a
rare fidelity, dared to avow an attachment to him, even at this time,
and wrote a very earnest letter to tlie king in his favour. But Henry
was not easily turned from his purpose, and being resolved on the
ruin of Cromwell, was not to be dissuaded from his design.
In the house of lords a bill of attainder was passed with the most
mdecent haste ; but in the commons it met with opposition, and after
a delay of ten days, a new bill was framed, and sent up to Ihe lords, in
which Cromwell was designated as " the most corrupt traitor ever
known ;" his treasons, as afterwards specified, consisting in the coun-
tenance and favour he had shown to the reformers. On these grounds
he was attainted both for treason and heresy.
The king now proceeded with his divorce ; and, although there was
no reason to dispute the legality of his marriage with Anne of Cleves,
still, as she was disagreeable to his royal taste, his sycophants were
too well taught to offer the least opposition to his wishes. The con-
vocation unanimously dissolved the marriage, and gave him liberty to
marry again ; indeed it is probable that if he had desired to have two
or more wives at once, the measure would have been sanctioned, so
base and servile were the courtiers and priests by whom this mon-
strous tyrant was surrounded. The queen continued to reside in
England, being declared " the adopted sister" of the king, and having
a pension of £4000 per annum.
Cromwell was executed on the 28th of July, and his fall gave a great
check to the reformation in England ; Cranmer being left almost alone
to struggle against a host of enemies.
OC3 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
The bishops now published a new "book of religion," in which they
settled the standard of the national faith ; and although the reformers
were justly dissatisfied with many parts of it, yet with other parts they
saw more reason to be content: many superstitious practices were
condemned in it, and the gospel covenant was rightly stated ; every
national church was also declared to be a complete body in itself,
with power to reform heresies, and do every thing necessary for the
preservation of its purity, and the government of its members.
The clergy now, elated by the victory which they had gained^ hy
the death of Cromwell, persuaded the king to new severities against
the reformers ; and several distinguished preacliers were called to
suffer death in consequence of the violent animosities of the friends
to the papal cause.
Martyrdom of Dr. Robert Barnes.
Dr. Barnes was educated in the univeraity of Louvain, in Brabant
On his return to England he went to Cambridge, where he was made
prior and master of the house of the Augustines. The darkest igno-
rance pervaded the university, at the time of his arrival there ; but
he, zealous to promote knowledge and truth, began to instruct the
students in the classical languages, and Avith the assistance of Parnel,
his scholar, whom he had brought from Louvain, soon caused learn-
ing to flourish, and the university to bear a very different aspect.
These foundations being laid, he began to read openly the epistles
of St. Paul, and to teach in greater purity the doctrine of Christ. He
preached and disputed with great warmth against the luxuries of the
higher clergy, particvdarly against Cardinal Wolsey, and the lamenta-
ble hypocrisy of the times. But still he remained ignorant of the
great cause of these evils, namely, the idolatry and superstition of the
church ; and while he declaimed against the stream, he himself drank
at the spring, and bowed down to idols. At length, happily becoming
acquainted with Bilney, he was by that martyr wholly converted unto
Christ.
The first sermon he preached of this truth was on the Sunday be-
fore Christmas-day, at St. Edward's church, in Cambridge. His
theme was the epistle of the same Sunday, " Gavdete in Domino"
&.C. For this sermon he was immediately accused of heresy by two
fellows of King's Hall, before the vice-chancellor. Then Dr. Notto-
ris, a bitter enemy to Christ, moved Barnes to recant ; but he refused,
as appears in his book, which he wrote to King Henry in English,
confuting the judgment of Cardinal Wolsey, and the residue of the
papistical bishops.
After preaching some time, Barnes was arrested openly in the con-
vocation-house ; brought to London, and the next morning carried
to the palace of Cardinal Wolsey, at Westminster, where, after wait-
ing the whole day, he was at night brought before the cardinal in his
chamber of state. " Is this," said Wolsey, " Dr. Barnes, who is
accused of heresy ?" — " Yes, and please your grace," replied the car-
dinal's secretary, " and I trust you will find him reformable, for he
is learned and wise."
" What, Mr. Doctor," said Wolsey, " had you not a sufficient scope
in the scriptures to teach the people, but that my golden shoes, my
poll-axes, my pillars, my golden cushions, my crosses, did so sore of-
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 237
fend you, that you must make us ridicnlur.i caput amongst the people,
Avho that clay laughed us to scorn ? Verily it was a sermon fitter to
be preached on a stage than in a pulpit ; for at last you said, ' I wear
a pair of red gloves, I should sav bloody gloves,' quoth you, ' that I
should not be cold in the midst of my ceremonies.' "
Dr. Barnes answered, " I spake nothing but the truth, out of the
scriptures, according to my conscience, and according to the old doc-
tors." And then he delivered him six sheets of paper Mritten, to con-
firm and corroborate his sentiments.
The cardinal received them smiling, saying, " We perceive then
that you intend to stand to your articles, and to show your learning.'
" Yea," said Barnes, " that I do by God'S' grace, with your lord-
ship's favour."
He answered, " Such as you bear us little favour, and the catholic
church. I will ask you a question ; whether do you think it more ne-
cessary that I should have all this royalty, because I represent the
king's majesty in all the high courts of this realm, to the terror and
keeping down of all rebellious treasons, traitors, all the wicked and
corrupt members of this commonwealth, or to be as simple as you
would have us, to sell all these things, and to give thera to the poor,
who shortly will cast them in the dirt; and to pull away this princely
dignity, which is a terror to the wicked, and to follow your counsel?"
" I think it necessary," said Barnes, " to be sold and given to the
poor. For this is not becoming your calling, nor is the king's majesty
maintained by your pomp and poll-boxes, but by God, who sailh,
kings and their majesty reign and stand by ine."
Then answered the cardinal, " Lo, master doctors, here is the
learned wise man that you told me of." Then they kneeled down,
and said, " We desire your grace to be good unto him, for he will be
reformable."
" Then," said he, " stand you up ; for your sakes and the univer-
sity we will be good unto him. How say you, m.aster doctor, do you
not know that I am able to dispense in all matters concerning religion
within this realm, as much as the pope may?" He said, " 1 know it
to be so."
" Will you then be ruled by us ? and we will do all things for your
honesty, and for the honesty of the university."
He answered, " I thank your grace for your good will ; I will stick
to the holy scriptures, and to God's book, according to the simple talent
that God hath lent me."
" Well," said he, " thou shalt have thy learning tried at the utter-
most, and thou shalt have the law."
He was then committed to the custody of the sergeant at arms who
had brought him to London, and by whom he was the next morning
brought before the bishops ; who, on examining the articles of his
faith, which he had delivered to the cardinal, asked him if he would
sign them, v/hich he did, and was thereupon committed to the Fleet.
On the Saturday following he was again brought before the bishops,
who called upon him to know whether he would abjure or burn. He
was then greatly agitated, and felt inclined rather to burn than ab-
jure ; but was persuaded by some persons to abjure, which he at
length consented to do, and the abjuration being ])ut into his hand, he
abjured as it was there written, and then he subscribed it with his own
338 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
hand ; yel his judges would scarcely receive him into the b.osom ol
the church, as they termed it. Then they put him to an oath, and
charged him to do all that they commanded him, which he accord-
ingly promised.
He was then again committed to the Fleet, and the next morning
was brought to St. Paul's church, with live others who had abjured.
Here the cardinal, bishops, and clergy, being assembled in great pomp,
the bishop of Rochester preached a sermon against the doctrines of
liUther and Barnes, during which the latter was commanded to kneel
down and ask forgiveness of God, and the catholic church, and the
cardinal's grace; after which he was ordered, at the end of the ser-
mon, to declare that hq was used more charitably than he deserved,
his heresies being so horrible, and so detestable ; once more he kneel-
ed, desiring of the people forgiveness, and to pray for him. This
farce being ended, the cardinal departed under a canopy, with the
bishops and mitred abbots, who accompanied him to the outer gate of
the church, when they returned. Then Barnes, and the others who
had abjured, were carried thrice about the fire, after which they were
brought to the bishops, and kneeled down for absolution. The bishop
of Rochester standing up, declared that Dr. Barnes, with the others,
were received into the church again. After which they were recom-
mitted to the Fleet during the cardinal's pleasure.
Dr. Barnes having remained in the Fleet half a year, was placed
in the custody of the Austin Friars in London ; from whence he was
removed to the Austin Friars of Northampton, there to be burned ;
of which intention, however, he was perfectly ignorant. Being in-
formed of the base design of his enemies, however, he, by a strata-
gem, escaped, and reached Antwerp, where he dwelt in safety, and
was honoured with the friendship of the best, and most eminent re-
formers of the time, as Luther, Melancthon, the duke of Saxony, and
others. Indeed, so great was his reputation, that the king of Den-
mark sent him as one of his ambassadors to England ; when Sir
Thomas More, at that time lord chancellor, wished to have him ap-
prehended on the former charge. Henry, however, would not allow
of this, considering it as a breach of the most sacred laws, to offer
violence to the person of an ambassador, under any pretence. Barnes,
therefore, remained in England unmolested, and departed again with-
out restraint. He returned to Wittemberg, where he remained to
forward his works in print which he had begun, after which he re-
turned again to England, and continued a faithful preacher in Lon-
don, being well entertained and promoted during the ascendancy of
Anne Boleyn. He was afterwards sent ambassador by Henry to the
duke of Cleves, upon the business of the marriage between Anne of
Cleves and the king ; and gave great satisfaction in every duty which
was intrusted to him.
Not long after the arrival of Gardiner from France, Dr. Barnes,
and other reformed preachers, were apprehended, and carried before
the king at Hampton Court, where Barnes was examined. The king
being desirous to bring about an agreement between him and Gar-
diner, granted him leave to go home with the bishop to confer with
him. But they not agreeing, Gardiner and his party sought to en-
tangle and entrap Barnes and his friends in further danger, which,
not long after, was brought to pass. For, by certain complaints made
PROGRESS OP THE REFORMATION. 239
to the king of them, they were enjoined to preach three sermons the
following Easter at the Spittle ; at which sermons, besides other re-
porters which were sent thither, Stephen Gardiner also was there pre-
sent, sitting with the mayor, either to bear record of their recantation,
or else, as the Pharisees came to Christ, to ensnare them in their talk,
if they should speak any thing amiss. Barnes preached first ; and at
the conclusion of his sermon, requested Gardiner, if he thought he
had said nothing contradictory to truth, to hold up his hand in the
face of all present ; upon which Gardiner immediately held up his
finger. Notwithstanding this, they were all three sent for to Hamp-
ton Court, whence they were conducted to the tower, where they re-
mained till they were brought out to death.
Execution of Queen Catherine Howard.
The king was greatly delighted with the charms of Catherine
Howard, his fifth wife, and even gave public thanks to God for the
excellent choice he had made. But his opinion was soon altered, and
not without reason ; for she was convicted on the clearest evidence,
and by her own confession, of gross lewdness and debauchery, with
several persons ; and was beheaded, with Lady Rochford, her principal
accomplice and confidant, February 14th, 1541. The latter, it will
be recollected, was the chief instrument in the destruction of Anne
Boleyn, and her fate was considered as a divine judgment on her base-
less and fa,lsehood to that injured queen.
The king, exasperated by the disappointment of his hopes, pro-
cured an attainder against the parents and relatives of Catherine, for
not informing him of what they, perhaps, were themselves ignorant
of; and it was made treason to conceal any matter of the kind from
the king in future, as well on the part of relatives and other persons,
as by the lady herself, whom he might intend to honour with his hand.
The barbarous severity and injustice of these acts was felt, but durst
not be murmured against, so absolute a tyranny had Henry establish-
ed in his kingdom. After remaining a widower about two years, he
contracted a sixth marriage with Catherine Parr, widow of Lord Lati-
mer, who was in secret a friend to the reformation, but, dreading the
fate of her predecessors, dissembled her partiality for the true faith.
Attempts to Suppress the Bible.
Great pains had been taken by the bishops to suppress the English
Bible. The king refused to call it in, and they therefore complained
much of the translation, which they wished to have condemned, and
a new one promised, which might have been delayed during several
years. Cranmer, perceiving that the Bible was the great eye-sore of
the Popish party, and that they were resolved to oppose it by all the
means they could think of, procured an order from the king, referring
the correction of the translation to the two universities. The bishops
look this very ill, and all of them, except those of Ely and St. David's
protested against it.
Method of Preaching
In former times there had been few or no sermons, except in Lent;
for on holy days the sermons v/ere panegyrics on the saints, and on
llie virtues of their pretended relics. But in Lent there was a more
240 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
solemn way of preaching; and the fiiai's maintained their credit much
by tlie pathetic sermons they preached in that time, and by which
they wrought much on the passions of the people ; yet even these
for the most part tended to extol fasting, confession, and other auste-
rities, with very little of the true simplicity of Christianity, or the
Scriptures ; and were designed rather to raise a sudden heat, than to
work a real change in their auditors. They had also mixed so much
out of the legends with their sermons, that the people at length disbe-
lieved all they said, on account of those fabulous things with which
their sermons were debased.
The reformers, on the other hand, took great care to instruct their
hearers in the fundamentals of religion, of which they had known
little formerly : this made the nation follow those teachers with a
wonderful zeal ; but some of them mixed more sharpness against
the friars in their sermons, than was consistent with the mild spirit of
Christianity, although the hypocrisy and che;ats of their antagonists
did in a great measure excuse those lieats ; and it was observed that
our Saviour had exposed the Pharisees in so plain a manner, that il
justified the treating them with some roughness. This made it seem
necessary to suffer none to preach, at least out of their own parishes,
Avithout license, and many were licensed to preach as itinerants.
There was also a book of homilies on all the epistles and gospels in
the year, published, which contained a plain paraphrase of those parts
of scripture, together with some practical exhortations founded on
them. Many complaints were made of those who were licensed to
preach, and that they might be able to justify themselves, they began
generally to write and read their sermons : and thus did this custom
begin.
An Act concerning' Religion.
In 1543, a bill was proposed by Cranmer, for the advancement of
true religion, which was much opposed, and those who at first joined
him afterwards forsook him ; so that it was much altered for the
worse in its progress. By it Tindal's translation of the Bible was
condemned, and also all other books contrary to the doctrine set forth
bv the bishops. Bibles, of another translation, were still allowed to
be kept, but all prefaces or annotations to them, were to be expunged;
all the king's injunctions were confirmed ; no books of religion were
to be printed without license ; there was to be no exposition of scrip-
ture in plays or interludes ;* none of the laity might read the scrip
tare, or explain it in any public assembly ; but a proviso was made
for public speeches, which then began generally with a text of scrip-
* It had been, during several centuries, a custom to drranatize certain portions of
scripture, which were represented hy the mcnks themselves, as well as by other persons,
under the title of Mi/stcries ; and many of these performances were highly profane
and indecorous. But the "plays and interludes" alluded to in the above mentioned act,
appear to have been burlesque representations of the mummeries of the church of Rome,
ridiculous enough in themselves, but rendcreti more palpably so, by this method of
treating them. As, however, the ridicule which was pointed at the abuses of religion,
micfht, by malice or ignorance, be transferred to what is really sacred, these represen-
tations were properly condemned, both by Catholics and Protestants, and the Re-
formers trusted to the growing intellect of the age for the condemnation of what waj
blameablc, and the preservation of what was praiseworthy, in the ritual of the church.
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 241
/lire, and were like sermons. Noblemen, gentlemen, and their wives,
or merchants, might have Bibles ; but no ordinary woman, trades-
man, apprentice, or husbandman, was allowed to retain any.* Every
person might have the book published by the bishops, the psalter, and
other rudiments of religion, in English. All churchmen, who preach-
ed contrary to that book, for the first offence, were reqifired to re-
cant ; for the second, to abjure and carry a fagot; but, for the third,
they were to be burnt. The laity, for the third offence, were to for-
feit their goods and chattels, and to be liable to perpetual imprison-
ment. The parties accused were not allowed witnesses for their pur-
gation. The act of the six articles was confirmed, and it was left free
to the king, to change this act, or any proviso in it. There was also
a new act passed, giving authority to the king's proclamations, and
any nine privy counsellors were empowered to proceed against of-
fenders. Against this the Lord Mountjoy dissented, and is the only in-
stance of any nobleman having the courage to protest against the in-
numerable legislative iniquities of this reign.
Attempts to ruin Cranmer
The chief thing now aimed at, by the whole popish party, was
Cranmer's ruin. Gardiner employed many to infuse the belief into
the king, that he gave the chief encouragement to heresy in England,.
and that it was in vain to lop off the branches, and leave the root still
growing. The king, before this, would never hear the complaints thai
were made of him : but now, to be informed of the depth of this de-
sign, he was willing to make himself acquainted with all that was to
be said against him.
Gardiner reckoned, that this point being gained, all the rest would
follow, and judging that the king was now alienated from him, more
instruments and artifices than ever were made use of. A long paper,
containing many particulars against both Cranmer and his chaplains,
was put into the king's hands. Upon this the king sent for him; and
after he had complained much of the heresy in England, he said, he
resolved to find out the chief promoter of it, and to make him an ex-
ample.
Cranmer advised him first to consider well what heresy was, that
so he might not condemn those as heretics, who maintained the true
wQjd of God against human inventions. Then the king told him
frankly, that he was the man complained of, as most guilty ; and
showed him all the informations that he had received against him.
Cranmer avowed that he was still of the same mind as when he op-
posed the six articles, and submitted himself to a trial ; he confessed
* By this proviso, it would appear that these bigots wished reli^on to be confined
to the " nobility, gentry, and merchants," to the exclusion of the poor and humble me-
chanic and labourer. Did they imagine that tlie kingdom of heaven was the exclusive
property of those favoured beings; and that, because they dwelt in earthly palaces, they
must of necessity be received into heavenly mansions? Did they not know that our
blessed Saviour selected his most eminent apostles and disciples from among tliose de-
spised classes, whom they considered unworthy even to hear his gracious word ] Let
us, of the present generation, praise our heavenly Fatlier, who has cast our lot in a pe-
riod when the knowledge of his promises, and the possession of his scriptures, are not
confined to the "mighty of this earth," but form the treasure of every cottage, and the
solace and support of the lowliest of mankind.
16
242
BOOK OF MARTYRS
iDaiiy things to the king ; in particular, that he had a Avife ; but he
said }ic had sent her out of England, when the act of the six articles
Avas passed ; and expressed so great a sincerity, and put so entire a
con.idence in the king, that instead of being ruined, he was now
better established Avith him than ever.
The king commanded him to appoint some persons to examine the
contrivance that had been laid to destroy him ; he answered, that it
Avas not decent for him to nominate any to judge in a cause in Avhich
himself was concerned ; but the king being positive, he named some
to go about it, ar^d the Avhole secret Avas discovered. It appeared that
Gardiner and Dr. London had been the chief instruments, and had
encouraged informers to appear against hirn. Cranmer did not press
the king for any reparation ; for he Avas so noted for his readiness to
forgive injuries, and to return good for evil, that it Avas commonly said,
the best Avay to obtain his favour, Avas to do him an injury ; >of this he
gave signal instances at this time, both in relation to the clergy and
laity ; by Avhich it appeared that he Avas actuated by that meek and
loAvly spirit, Avhich becomes all the folloAvers of Christ, but more par-
ticularly one Avho Avas so great an instrument in reforming the Chris-
tian religion ; and did, by such eminent acts of charity, show that he
himself practised that Avhich he taught others to do.
A parliament Avas now called, in Avhich an act providing for the
succession of the croAvn Avas passed. By it Prince Edward and his
heirs, or the heirs of the king's present marriage, Avere to succeed on
the decease of the king ; after them, the Lady Mary and Lady Eliza-
beth ; and in case they had no issuo, or did not observe such limita-
tions or conditions as the king shou'd appoint, then it was to fall to any
other whom the king should name, either by his letters patent, or by
his last will signed Avith his hand. A a oath Avas appointed both
against the pope's supremacy, and for the maintaining the succession
according to this act, which all are required to take, under the pains
of treason. It Avas made treason to say or Avrite any thing contrary
to this act, or to the slander of any of the king's heirs named in it.
Another bill Avas passed, qualifying the severity of the six articles ;
by Avhich it Avas enacted, that none should be imprisoned but upon a
legal presentment, except upon the king's Avarrant. None Avas to be
challenged for Avords spoken, except the accusation Avere brought
Avithin a year after the commission of the offence ; nor for a sermon,
but Avithin forty days. This Avas made to prevent such conspiracies
as had been discovered during the former year.
Another act Avas passed, renCAving the authority given to thirty-tAvo
commissioners to reform the ecclesiastical law, which Cranmer pro-
moted much; and to advance so good a purpose, he dreAV out of the
canon laAV a collection of many things against the regal and for the
r*Apal authority, Avith several other very extravagant propositions, to
show how improper it Avas, to let a book, in Avhich such things were,
continue still in any credit in England : but he could not bring this
to any good issue. A general pardon AAas also granted, out of which
heresy was excepted.
Audley, the chancellor, dying at this time, Wriothesly, Avho was of
the popish party, Avas put in his place ; and Dr. Petre, Cranmer's
friend, Avas made secretary of .state: so equally did the king keep the
balance betAveen both parties. He gave orders also to translate the
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATIO.N\ 343
pra3'er?, and litanies, into the English tongue, which gave the reform-
ers some hopes that he liad not quite cast ofl" his design of reform-
ing such abuses as had crept into the worsliip of God. And they hoped
that the reasons which prevailed with the king to order this, would
also induce him to order a translation of all the other offices into the
English tongue.
Lee, archbishop of York, died about this time, and was succeeded
by Holgate, bishop of LandafT, who, in his heart, favoured the refor-
mation. Kitchin, who turned with every change, was made bishop of
LandafT; Heath was removed from Rochester to Worcester ; Ilolbeck
was promoted to the see of Rochester; and Day to that of Chiches-
ter. All these were moderate men, and well disposed to a reforma-
tion, or at least to comply with it.
Story and Martyrdom of Anne Askew.
This lady was descended from a good family, and had received an
accomplished education ; she had embraced the doctrines of the re-
formers with zeal, and was taken into custody for her opinions, in
March, 1545. She underwent several examinations touching the
points of diflerence between the papists and the protestants ; in which
she answered the insidious questions of her examiners with boldness
and discretion. After remaining some time in prison, application was
made by her relatives for her enlargement, and nothing being satisfac-
torily proved against her, she was for a time set at liberty; but during
the following year she was again apprehended, and was at length
brought to her trial at Guildhall. We transcribe her own account of
what took place on this interesting occasion :
" The sum of my Condemnation at Guildhall.
" They said to me there, ' that I was a heretic, and condemned by
the law, if I would stand in my opinion.' I ansv.'ered, ' That I was
no heretic, neither vet deserved I any death by the law of God. But
as concerning the faith which I uttered and wrote to the council, I
would not deny it, because I knew it true.' Then would they needs
know if I woidd deny the sacrament to be Christ's body and blood. I
said, ' Yea; for the same Son of God, who was born cf the Virgin
Mary, is now glorious in heaven, and will come again from thence at
the latter day like as he went up — Acts i. And as foi' that ye call
your God, it is a piece of bread. For a more proof thereof, mark it
when you list, let it but lie in the box three months, and it will be
mouldy, and so turn to nothing that is good. Whereupon I am per-
suaded that it cannot be God.'
" After that they willed me to have a priest ; at this I smiled. Then
they asked me if it were not good ; I said, ' I would confess my
faults unto God, for I was sure he would hear me with favour.' And
so we were condemned.
" My belief, which I wrote to the council, was this, that the sacra-
mental bread was left us to be received with thanksgiving, in remem-
brance of Christ's death, the only remedy of our souls' recovery;
and that thereby we also receive the whole benefits and fruits of his
most glorious passion. Then would they know whether the bread in
the box were God or no ; I said, ' God is a spirit, and will be wor-
shipped in spirit and in truth.' John iv. Then they demanded,
' Will you plaiidy deny Christ to be in the sacrament V I answered,
244 UOOK OF MARTYRS.
• tl»at I believe faithfully the eternal Son of God not to dwell there ;
in witness whereof I recited the 19th chapter of Daniel, the 7th and
nth of the Acts, and the 24th of Matthew, concluding thus — ' I nei-
tlier wish death, nor yet fear his might ; God have the praise thereof
with thanks.'
" My faith briefly written to the king's grace., and sent by the hands of
the Chancellor.
" I, Anne Askew, of good memory, although God hath given me
the bread of adversity, and the water of trouble, yet not so much as
my sins hath deserved, desire this to be known unto your grace, that
forasmuch as I am by the law condemned for an evil doer, here I
take heaven and earth to record, that I shall die in my innocency ;
and according to that I have said first, and will say last, I utterly abhor
and detest all heresies. And. as concerning the supper of the Lord,
I believe so much as Christ hath said therein, which he confirmed
with his most blessed blood ; I believe so much as he willed me to
follow ; and believe so much as the catholic church of him doth teach.
For I will not forsake the commandment of his holy lips. But look
what God bath charged me with his mouth, that have I shut up in my
heart. And thus briefly I end, for lack of learning. Anne Askew.
" My Examination and Treatment after my departure from Neiogatc.
" On Tuesday I was sent from Newgate to the sign of the Crown,
where Mr. Rich, and the bishop of London, with all their power, and
flattering words, went about to persuade me from God ; but I did not
esteem their glossing pretences.
" Then came to me Nicholas Shaxton, and counselled me to recant,
as he had done. I said to him, ' That it had been good for him never
to have been born,' with many other like words.
" Then Mr. Rich sent me to the tower, where I remained till three
o'clock, when Rich came, and one of the council, charging me upon
my obedience to show unto them if I knew any man or woman of my
sect. My answer was, ' That I knew none.' Then they asked me
of Lady Suflblk, Lady Sussex, Lady Hertford, Lady Denny, and Lady
Fitzwilliams. To whom I answered, ' If I should pronounce any
thing against them, that I were not able to prove it.' Then said they
unto me, ' That the king was informed that I could name, if I would,
a great number of my sect.' I answered, ' That the king was as well
deceived in that behalf, as he was dissembled with by them in other
matters.'
" Then they commanded me to show how I was maintained in the
Comptei, and who willed me to stick to my opinion. I said, ' that
there was no creature that therein did strengthen me. And as for the
help that I had in the Compter, it was by the means of my maid. For
as she went abroad in the streets, she told my case to the apprentices,
and they, by her, did send me money; but who they were I never
knew.
" Then they said, ' That there were several ladies that had sent
me money.' I answered, ' That there was a man in a blue coat
who delivered me ten shillings, and said that my lady of Hertford
sent it me ; and another in a violet coat gave me eight shillings, and
said my Lady Denny sent it me. "Whether it were true or no I cannot
tfc^" for I am not sure who sent it me, but as the maid did say.
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 246
Then they said, ' There were some of the council who maintained
me.' I said, ' No.'
" Then did they put me on the rack, because I confessed no ladies
or gentlewomen to be of my opinion, and thereon they kept ir.e a
long time, and because I lay still and did not cry, my lord chancellor
and Mr. Rich took pains to rack me with their own hands till I was
nigh dead.
" The lieutenant then caused me to be loosed from the rack, when
I immediately swooned, and they recovered me again. After tliat I
sat two hours reasoning with my lord chancellor upon the bare floor,
where he with many flattering words persuaded me to leave my opi-
nions ; but my Lord God, I thank his everlasting goodness, gave me
grace to persevere, and will do, I hope, to the very end.
" Then Avas I brought to an house and laid in a bed, with as weary
and painful bones as ever had patient Job, I thank my Lord God
therefore. Then my lord chancellor sent me word, if I would leave
my opinion I should want for nothing ; if I would not, I should forth-
with to Newgate, and so be burned. I sent him again word, that I
would rather die than break my faith.
" Thus the Lord open the eyes of their blind hearts, that the truth
may take place. Farewell, dear friend, and pray, pray, pray."
Her racking in the tower, mentioned above, is thus described.
She was led down into a dungeon, where Sir Anthony Knevet, the
lieutenant, commanded his gaoler to pinch her with the rack ; which
being done, as much as he thought suflicient, he was about to take her
down, supposing that he had done enough. But Wriothesley, the
chancellor, not contented that she should be loosed so soon, having
confessed nothing, com.manded the lieutenant to strain her on the rack
again, which because he denied to do, he was threatened by the chan-
cellor, " That he would signify his disobedience to the king ; but re-
maining unmoved by their threats, Wriothesley and Rich, throwing
ofi" their gowns, would needs play the tormentors themselves, first ask-
ing her " If she were with child ?" to which she answered, " Ye shall
not need to spare for that, but do your wills upon me ;" and so
quietly and patiently praying to the Lord, she sustained their cruelty,
till her bones and joints were almost torn asunder, so that she was
obliged to be carried away in a chair. When the racking was past
the chancellor and Mr. Rich rode off to the court.
In the mean time, while they were making their way by land, the
good lieutenant, taking boat, hastened to the court to speak with the
king before the others, which he did ; and desiring his pardon, told
him the whole matter respecting the racking of Mrs. Askew, and the
threats of the lord chancellor, " because at his commandment, not
knowing his highness's pleasure, he refused to rack her, which he for
compassion could not find in his heart to do, and therefore desired his
highness's pardon ;" which when the king had heard, he seemed not
much to approve their severity ; and granted the lieutenant his pardon.
While Mrs. Askew was confined in Newgate, she made the follow-
ing confession of her faitli. " I, Anne Askew, of good memory, al-
though my merciful Father hath given me the bread of adversity, and
the water of trouble, yet not so much as my sins have deserved, do
confess myself here a sinner before the throne of his heavenly majes-
ty, desiring his forgiveness and mercy. And for so much as I am bv
246 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
the law unrighteously condemned for an evil doer, concerning oj)i
nions, I take the same most merciful God of mine, which hath made
both heaven and earth, to record, that I hold no opinions contrary to
his most holy word ; and I trust in my merciful Lord, which is the
giver of all grace, that he will graciously assist me against all evil
opinions which are contrary to his blessed verity ; for I take him to
witness that I have done, and will, unto my life's end, utterly abhor
them to the uttermost of my power.
"But this is the heresy which they report me to hold, that after the
priest hath spoken the words of consecration, there remaineth bread
still. They both say, and also teach it for a necessary article of faith,
that after these words be once spoken, there remaineth no bread, but
even the self-same body that hung upon the cross on Good Friday,
both flesh, blood, and bone. To this belief of their's say I, Nay.
For then were our common creed false, which saith, that he sitteth on
the right hand of God the Father Almighty, and from thence shall
come to judge the quick and the dead. Lo, this is the heresy that I
hold, and for it must suffer the death. But as touching the holy and
blessed supper of ihe Lord, I believe it to be a most necessary re-
membrance of his glorious sufferings and death. Moreover I believe
as much therein as my eternal and only Redeemer Jesus Christ would
I should believe.
" Finally, I believe all those scriptures to be true, which he hath
confirmed with his most precious blood ; yea, and as St. Paul saith,
those scriptures are suflicient for our learning and salvation, that
Christ hath left here with us ; so that, I believe, we need no unwritten
verities to rule his church with. Therefore, look what he hath said
unto me with his own mouth in his holy gospel, that I have with God's
grace closed up in my heart, and my full trust is, (as David saith,) that
it shall be a lantern to my footsteps, Psalm xxviii.
" There be some that say I deny the eucharist, or sacrament of
thanksgiving ; but those people untruly report of me ; for I both say
and believe it, that if it were ordered as Christ instituted it and left it,
a most singular comfort it were unto us all. But as concerning the
mass as it is now used in our days, I say and believe it to be the most
abominable idol that is in the world. For my God will not be eaten
with teeth, neither yet dieth he again ; and upon these words that 1
have now spoken, will I suffer death.
"O Lord ! I have more enemies now than there be hairs on my head ;
yet, Lord ! let them never overcome me with vdn words, but fight
thou. Lord ! in my stead, for on thee cast I my care. With all the
spite they can imagine, they fall upon me, who am thy poor creature.
Yet, sweet Lord ! let me not set by them which are against me, for
in thee is my whole delight ; and, Lord ! I heartily desire of thee,
that thou wilt of thy most merciful goodness forgive them that violence
which they do, and have done unto me. Open also thou their blind
hearts, that they may hereafter do that thing in thy sight, Avhich is only
acceptable before thee, and to set forth thy verity aright, without all
vain fantasy of sinful men. So be it, O Lord ! so be it.
"Anne Askew "
PRuGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 247
We have thought it advisable to give so much of this lady's own
writings, as they aflbrd very strong evidence of her faitli, and zeal for
the cause of truth. To this sacred cause she was now about to give
the last and highest proof of her attachment, by yielding up her life
at the stake, as a token of her devotion to the pure religion of Jesus,
and her abhorrence of the devices and inve.itions of the papists.
On the day appointed for her execution, she was brought to Smith-
field in a chair, being unable to walk, from the effects of the tortures
which she had undergone. When she arrived at the stake, she was
fastened to it by a chain round her body. Three other persons were
brought to suffer with her, for the same offence. These were, Nicho-
las Belenian, a priest of Shropshire ; John Adams, a tailor ; and John
Lacels, a gentleman of the king's household.
The martyrs being all chained to the stake, Dr. Shaxton, who was
appointed to preach, began his sermon ; and as he proceeded, Anne
Askew, with undiminished spirit, either confirmed or contradicted
him, according to the truth or falsehood of his quotations and in-
ferences.
The sermon being concluded, the martyrs began their prayers.
The concourse of spectators was immense, and on a bench near the
stake sat the lord chancellor, the duke of Norfolk, the earl of Bedford,
the lord mayor, and other persons of consideration. The chancellor
sent to Anne Askew letters, offering to her the king's pardon if she
would recant; but she, refusing ever to look upon them, made tills
answer, " That she came not thither to deny her Lord and iVTaster "
Then the letters were likewise offered to the others, who, imitating
the constancy of the woman, refused not only to receive them, but
also to look upon them, and continued to cheer and exhort each othei
to be firm to the end of their sufferings, and so to deserve the glory
they were about to enter ; whereupon the lord mayor, commanding
fire to be put to them, cried, with a loud voice, '■'' fiat justitiay
And thus these blessed martyrs were compassed in with flames of
fire, and offered up as sacrifices unto God.
Designs against Cranmer.
These events were so many triumphs to the popish party, who,
stimulated by fresh hopes, sought to complete their victory by effecting
the ruin of Cranmer and the queen, whom they considered the great-
est obstacles to their success. They persuaded the king that Cran-
mer was the source of all the heresies in England ; but Henry's es-
teem for him was such, that no one Avould appear to give evidence
against him ; they therefore desired that he might be committed to
the tower, and then it would appear how many would inform against
him.
The king seemed to approve this plan, and they resolved to exe-
cute it the next day ; but in the night Henry sent for Cranmer, and
told him what was resolved concerning him. Cranmer thanked the
king for giving him notice of it, and submitted to it, only desiring that
he might be heard in answer for himself; and that he might have im-
partial judges, competent to decide. Henry was surprised to see him
so little concerned in his own preservation : but told him, since he
took so little care of himself, that he must take care of him. lie
therefore gave him instructions to appear before the council, and to
248 BOOK OP MARTYRS.
desire to see his accusers before he should be sent to the tower; and
that he might be used by them, as they would desire to be used in a
similar case ; and if he could not prevail by the force of reason, then
he was to appeal to the king in person, and was to show the royal
seal ring, which he took from his fmger, and gave him, which they
would know so Avell that they v/ould do nothing after they once saw it.
Accordingly, on being summoned next morning, he came over to
Whitehall ; there he was detained, with great insolence, in the lobby
of the council chamber before he was called in ; but when that was
done, and he had acted as the king had ordered him, and at last
showed the ring, his enemies rose in great confusion, and went to
the king. He upbraided them severely for what they had done, and
expressed his esteem and kindness for Cranmer in such terms, that
they were glad to get off, by pretending that they had no other de-
sign, but that of having his innocence declared by a public trial.
From this vain attempt they were so convinced of the king's unalter-
able favour to him, that they forbore any further designs against him.
But what they could not effect against Cranmer, they thought
might be more safely tried against the queen, who was known to love
the " new learning !" as the reformation was then called. She used
to have sermons in her privy chamber, which could not be so secretly
carried, but that it came to the knowledge of her royal spouse ; yet
her conduct in all other things was so exact, and she expressed such
a tender care of the king's person, that it was observed she had gained
much upon him ; but his peevishness growing with his distempers,
made him sometimes impatient even to her.
He used often to talkAvith her of matters of religion, and sometimes
she sustained the argument for the reformers so strenuously, that he
was offended at it ; yet as soon as that appeared she let it fall. But
once the debate continuing long, the king expressed his displeasure
at it to Gardiner, when she Avent away. The crafty bishop took hold
of this opportunity to persuade the king that she was a great cherisher
of heretics. Wriothesly joined with him in the same artifice : and
filled the angry king's head with suspicions, insomuch that he signed
the articles upon Avhich she was to be impeached. But the chancel-
lor carelessly dropping the paper, it happened to be taken up by one
?f *hc queen's friends, who carried it to her.
The next night, after supoer. she went into the king's bedchamber,
where she found him sitting and talking with certain gentlemen. He
very courteously welcomed her, and breaking off his talk with the
gentlemen, began of himself, contrary to his usual manner, to enter
into talk of religion, seeming, as it were, desirous to hear the queen's
opinion on certain matters which he mentioned.
The queen, perceiving to what this tended, mildly, and with much
apparent deference, answered him as follows :
" Your majesty," says she, " doth right well know, neither am I
myself ignorant, what great imperfection and weakness by our first
creation is allotted unto us women, to be ordained and appointed as
inferior, and subject unto man as our head, from which head all our
direction ought to proceed ; and that as God made man to his own
shape and likeness, whereby he, being endued with more special gifts
of perfection, might rather be stirred to the contemplation of hea-
venly things, and to the earnest endeavour to obev his commandments ;
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION 240
even so also made he Avoman of man, of whom, and by whom, she is
to be governed, commanded, and directed ; whose womanly weai<-
nesses and natural imperfection ought to be tolerated, aided, and
borne withal, so that by his wisdom such things as be lacking in her
ought to be supplied.
" Since thence, therefore, that God hath appointed such a natural
difference between man and woman, and your majesty being so ex-
cellent in gifts and ornaments of wisdom, and I a silly poor woman,
so much inferior in all respects of nature unto you, how then cometh
it now to pass that your majesty, in such diffuse causes of religion,
will seem to require my judgment ? which, when I have uttered and
said what I can, yet must I, and will I, refer my judgment in this, and
in all other cases, to your majesty's wisdom, as my only anchor, su-
preme head and governor here on earth, next under God to lean
unto."
" Not so, by Saint Mary," replied the king ; " you are become a
doctor, Kate, to instruct us (as we take it) and not to be instructed or
directed by us.'
"If your majesty take it so," said the queen, "then hath your ma-
jesty very much mistaken, who have ever been of the opinion, to
think it very unseemly and preposterous for the woman to take upon
her the office of an instructor, or teacher to her lord and husband,
but rather to learn of her husband, and to be taught by him ; and where
I have, with your majesty's leave, heretofore been bold to hold talk
with your majesty, wherein sometimes in opinions there hath seemed
some difference, I have not done it so much to maintain opinion, as
I did it rather to minister talk, not only to the end your majesty might
with less grief pass over this painful time of your infirmity, being in-
tentive to your talk, and hoping that your majesty should reap some
ease thereby ; but also that I, hearing your majesty's learned dis-
course, might receive to myself some profit thereby; wherein, I as-
sure your majesty, I have not missed any part of my desire in that
behalf, always referring myself in all such matters unto your majesty,
as by ordinance of nature it is convenient for me to do."
" And is it even so, sweetheart ?" cried the king ; " and tended
your arguments to no worse end ? Then perfect friends we are now
again, as ever at any time heretofore." And as he sat in his chair,
embracing her in his arms, and kissing her, he added, that " It did
him more good at that time to hear those words of her own mouth,
than if he had heard present news of an hundred thousand pounds in
moi.ey fallen unto him ;" and with tokens of great joy, and promises
and assurances never again to mistake her, he entered into very
pleasant discourse with the queen, and the lords and gentlemen stand-
ing by; and at last, (the night being far advanced,) he gave her leave
to depart. And after she was gone, he greatly commended and
praised her.
The time formerly appointed for her being taken into custody, be-
ing come, the king, wailed upon by two gentlemen only of his be'
chamber, went into the garden, whither the queen also came, (being
sent for by the king himself,) with three ladies attending her. Henry
immediately entered into pleasant conversation with the queen and
attendants; when, suddenly, in the midst of their mirth, the lord chan-
cellor came into the garden with forty of t.Nc king's guards, intending
2o0 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
to have taken the queen, together with the three ladies, to the tower
The king, sternly beholding them, broke off" his mirth with the queen,
and stepping a little aside, called the chancellor to him, who upon his
knees spake to the king, but \vhat he said is not well known; it is,
however, certain that the king's reply to him was, " Knave ! yea, ar-
rant knave, beast, and fool !" and then he commanded him presently
to be gone out of his presence ; which words, being vehemently spo*
ken by the king, the queen and her ladies overheard them.
The king, after the departure of the chancellor and his guards,
immediately returned to the queen ; when she, perceiving him to be
very much irritated, endeavoured to pacify him with kind words, in
be-half of the lord chancellor, with whom he seemed to be offended,
saying, " That albeit, she knew not what just cause his majesty had
at that time to be offended with him; yet she thought that ignorance,
not wilfulness, was the cause of his error."
" Ah, poor soul," replied the king, "thou little knowest how ill he
deserveth this grace at thy hands. On my word, sweetheart, he halii
been towards thee an arrant knave, and so let him go." Thus the
design against her was frustrated, and Gardiner, who had promoted
it, lost the king's favour entirely.
The King^s Sickness and Death.
The king's distemper had been long growing upon him. He was
become so corpulent, that 4ie could not go up and down stairs, but was
let down and drawn up by an engine, when he intended to walk in
his garden. He had an ulceration in his leg, which gave him much
])ain, the humours of his body discharging themselves that way, till
at last a dropsy came on. He had grown so fierce and cruel, that
those about him were afraid to let him know that his death seemed
near, lest they might have been adjudged guilty of treason, in fore-
telling his death !
His Avill was made ready, and signed ' by him, on the 30th of De-
cember. He ordered Gardiner's name to be struck out from the list
of his executors. When Sir Anthony Brown endeavoured to persuade
him not to put that disgrace on an old servant, he continued positive
in it ; for he said, " he knew his temper, and could govern him; but it
would not be in the power of others to do it, if he were put in so high
a trust." The most material thing in the will, was the preferring the
children of his second sister, by Charles Brandon, duke of Suffolk, to
the children of his eldest sister, the queen of Scotland, in the succes-
sion to the crown. On his death-bed he finished the foundation ot
Trinity college in Cambridge, and of Christ's hospital, near Newgate ;
yet this last was not fully settled, till his son completed what he had
begun.
On the 27th of January, 1547, his spirits sunk, and it was evident
that he had not long to live. Sir Anthony Denny took the courage to
tell him that death was approaching, and desired him to call on God
for his mercy. He expressed in general his sorrow for his past sins,
and his trust in the mercies of God in Christ .Tesus. He ordered
Cranmer to be sent for, but was speechless before he arrived ; yet he
gave a sign that he understood what he said to him, and soon after
died, in the 56th year of his age, after he had reigned thirty-seven
years and nine months. His death was concealed three days; and
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 251
the parliament continued to «!it till the 31st of January, when his de-
cease was made public. It is probable the Seymours, uncles to the
young king, concealed it so long, till they made a party for securing
the government in their own hands.
The severities Henry used against many of his subjects, in matters
of religion, made both sides write with great sharpness against him ;
his temper was imperious and cruel ; he was sudden and violent in
his passions, and hesitated at nothing by which he could gratify either
his lust or his revenge. This was much provoked by the sentence
of the pope against him, by the virulent books Cardinal Pole and
others published, by the rebellions that were raised in England by the
popish clergy, and the apprehensions he was in of the emperor's
greatness, together w^ith his knowledge of the fate of those princes,
against whom the popes had thundered in former times; all which
made him think it necessary to keep his people under the terror of a
severe government, and by some public examples to secure the peace
of the nation, and thereby to prevent a more profuse efiusion of blood,
which might have otherwise followed if he had been more gentle;
and it was no ^t■onde^, if, after the pope deposed him, he proceeded
to great severities against all who supported the papal authority.
Almost the last act of his life was one of barbarous ingratitude and
monstrous t\-ranny. This was the execution of the earl of Surry, a
brave and accomj)lished nobleman, who had served him with zeal and
fidelity, but was now sacrificed to the groundless suspicions of this
gloomy tyrant, on the pretence of his having assumed the arms of Ed-
ward the Confessor, which, from his being related to the royal family,
he had a right to do, and w^hich he had done, during many years, with-
out offence. Not satisfied with the death of this nobleman, the blood-
thirsty despot, now tottering on the brink of the grave, determined
to complete his worse than savage barbarity, by bringing to the block
the aged duke of Norfolk, father of his foryier victim, who had spent
a long life, and expended a princely fortune, in his service. There
being no charge on which to found an impeachment against him, a
parliament was summoned to attaint him ; and so well did these ser-
vile wretches fulfil their inhuman mastei-'s expectations, that the bill
of attainder was passed in both houses in the short space of seven
days ; and the royal assent being given by commission, January 27,
the duke was ordered for execution on the next morning; but in the
course of the night the king was himself summoned before the tribu-
nal of the eternal Judge.
Persecution and Martyrdom of Thomas Benet.
Thomas Benet was born in Cambridge ; became M. A. there ; and
(as some think) was also a priest; he was a very learned man, and of
a godly disposition, being intimately acquainted with Thomas Bilnc y,
the glorious martyr of Christ. The more he grew and increased in
the knowledge of God, and his holy work, the more he disliked the
corrupt state of religion then j)revalent; and, therefore, being desi-
rous to live in more freedom of conscience, he quitted the university
and went into Devonshire, in the year 1524, and resided in Torring-
ton, a market towm, where, for the maintenance of himself and his
wife, he kept a school. But that town not answering his expectation,
after remaining there one year, he went to Exeter, and resumed his
252 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
teaching. He was of a quiet behaviour, of a godly conversation, and
of a very courteous nature, humble to all men, and giving offence to
none. His greatest delight was to attend sermons and preachings,
whereof he was a diligent and attentive hearer, and he devoted all his
leisure to the study of the scriptures, and the company of such as
he found to be favourers of the gospel. Therefore, understanding
that Mr. Strowd, of Newnham, was committed to the bishop's prison
in Exeter upon suspicion of heresy, although unacquainted with him,
yet he sent him letters of consolation; wherein, speaking of himself,
he said, " Because I would not be a whoremonger, or an iniclean
person, I married a wife, with whom I have hidden myself in Devon-
shire from the tyranny of the antichristians, these six years."
But although he had hitherto avoided any public expression of his
sentiments, yet now, daily seeing the glory of God blasphemed, idola-
trous religion embraced and maintained, and the usurped power ol
the bishop of Rome extolled, he was so grieved in conscience, and
troubled in spirit, that he could not rest till he gave utterance to his
thoughts on these subjects. "Wherefore, speaking privately with his
friends, he plainly told them how blasphemously and abominably God
was dishonoured, his word contemned, and the people, by blind
guides, carried headlong to everlasting damnation ; and, therefore, he
said, " he could no longer endure, but must needs, and would utter
their abominations ; and for his own part, for the testimony of his
conscience, and for the defence of God's true religion, would yield
himself most patiently (as near as God would give him grace) to die,
and to shed his blood therein ; alleging that his death should be more
profitable to the church of God, and for the edifying of his people,
than his life should be."
To these persuasions his friends at length yielded, and promised to
pray to God for him, that he might be made strong in the cause, and
continue a faithful soldier to the end. He then gave directions for
the distribution of such books as he had ; and, shortly after, in the
month of October, he wrote his mind on some scrolls of paper, which
in the night he affixed upon the doors of the cathedral church of the
city ; on these papers Avas written, " The pope is antichrist, and we
ought to worship God only, and no saints."
These bills being found, the clergy were all in alarm, and great
search was made for the " heretic" who had set them up. Orders
were given that sermons should be preached every day to confute this
heresy. Nevertheless, Benet, keeping his own secret, went the Sun-
day following to the cathedral, and by chance sate down by two men
who had been the busiest in all the city in seeking and searching for
heretics ; and they beholding Benet, said one to the other, " Surely
this fellow is the heretic that hath set up the bills, and it were good
to examine him." Nevertheless, when they had well beheld him, and
saw the quiet and sober behaviour of the man, his attentiveness to the
preacher, his godliness in the church, being always occupied in his
book, which was a Testament in the Latin tongue, they were astonish-
ed, and had no power to speak to him, but departed, and left him
reading his book.
The priests- being unable to discover the perpetrator of this horri'
ble deed, at length determined, to make his damnation sure, to curse
him, whoever he might be ; which was accordingly performed with
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 253
much mummery ; and as the whole proceeding affords a just view of
ihe piety, charity, and mercy, of the Romish church, we give it here,
for the edification of our readers.
One of the priests, apparelled all in white, ascended into the pulpit.
The rahble, with some of the two orders of friars and monks, stand-
ing round about, and the cross being holden up with holy candles of
wax fixed to the same, he began his sermon with this text from the
book of Joshua : Est blasphemia in castris : " there is blasphemy in
the camp ;" and, after making a long, tedious, and superstitious
preachment, concluded, tliat " that foul and abominable heretic which
had put up such blasphemous bills, was for that, his blasphemy, dam-
nably cursed ; and besought God, our lady, St. Peter, patron of that
church, with all the holy company of martyrs, confessors, and vir-
gins, that it might be known what heretic had put up such blasphe-
mous bills." Then followed the curse, uttered by the pi-iest in these
words :
" By the authority of God the Father Almighty, and of the blessed
Virgin Mary, of St. Peter and Paul, and of the holy saints, we ex-
communicate, we utterly curse and ban, commit and deliver to the
devil of hell, him or her, whatsoever he or she be, that have, in spite
of God and of St. Peter, whose church this is, in spite of all holy
saints, and in spite of our most holy father the pope, God's vicar here
on earth, and in spite of the reverend father in God, John, our dioce-
san, and the worshipful canons, masters and priests, and clerks, which
serve God daily in this cathedral church, fixed up Avilh wax such
cursed and heretical bills full of blasphemy, upon the doors of this,
and other holy churches within this city. Excommunicate plainly
b6 he or she plenally, or they, and delivered over to the devil, as per-
petual malefactors and schismatics. Accursed might they be, and
given body and soul to the devil. Cursed be they, he or she, in cities
and towns, in fields, in ways, in paths, in houses, out of houses, and
in all other places, standing, lying, or rising, walking, running, waking,
sleeping, eating, drinking, and whatsoever thing they do besides. We
separate them, him or her, from the threshold, and from all the good
prayers of the church, from the participation of the holy mass, from
all sacraments, chapels, and altars, from holy bread, and holy water,
from all the merits of God's priests and religious men, and from all
their cloisters, from all their pardons, privileges, grants, and immuni-
ties, which all the holy fathers, popes of Rome, have granted to them;
and we give them over utterly to the power of the fiend, and let us
quench their souls, if they be dead, this night in the pains of hell fire,
as this candle is now quenched and put out'"' — (and with that he put
out one of the candles ;) — " and let us pray to God (if they be alive)
that their eyes may be put out, as this candle light is" — (he then put
out the other candle ;) " and let us pray to God, and to our lady, and
10 St. Peter and Paul, and all holy saints, that all the senses of their
bodies may fail them, and that they may have no feeling, as now the
light of this candle is gone" — (he put out the third candle) — " except
they, he, or she, come openly now and confess their blasphemy, and
by repentance (as in them shall lie) make satisfaction unto God, our
lady, St. Peter, and the worshipful company of thii cathedral church-
and as this holy cross staff now falleth down, so might they, except
they repent and show themselves." Then, the cross being first taken
254 BOOK OF MARTYRS
awav, the staff fell down. And the ignorant people were almost pctri
tied with fear, at hearing this terrible denunciation.
Now this foolish fantasy and mockery being ended, which was to a
Christian heart utterly ridiculous, Benet could no longer restrain his
laughter; upon which, those who were next to him, in great surprise,
asked him, "For what cause he should so laugh?" — "My friends,"
said, " who can forbear, seeing such merry conceits and interludes ?"
Immediately there was a cry, " Here is the heretic ! here is the here-
tic ! hold him fast, hold him fast, hold him fast !" He was accordingly
seized ; but his enemies, being uncertain of him, released him, and left
him to go home to his house.
However, being still more disgusted by the scene he had just wit-
nessed, he renewed his former bills, and caused his boy, early in the
following morning, to replace them upon the gates of the churchyard.
As the boy was doing this, he was seen by a person going to early mass,
who asking him, " whose boy he was," charged him as the heretic
who had set up the bills upon the gates ; wherefore, pulling down the
bill, he brought it, together with the boy, before the mayor ; and
thereupon Benet being known and taken, was committed to prison.
The next day, the canons of the cathedral and magistrates of the
city jointly examined him. To them he confessed what he had done, say-
ing, " It was even I that put up those bills, and if it were to do, I would
do it again ; for in them I have written nothing but what is very truth."
— "Couldest.not thou," asked they, "as well have declared thy mind
by word of mouth, as by putting up bills of blasphemy ?" — " No,"
said he ; " I put up the bills, that many should read and hear what
abominable blasphemers ye are, and that they might know your anti-
christ, the pope, to be that boar out of the wood, which destroyeth
and throweth down the hedges of God's church ; for if I had been
heard to speak but one word, I should have been clapped fast in
prison, and the matter of God hidden. But now I trust more of your
blasphemous doings will thereby be opened and come to light ; for
God will so have it, and no longer will suffer you."
The next day he was sent to the bishop, Avho committed him to
prison, where he was kept in the stocks and strong irons. Then the
bishop, with Dr. Brewer, his chancellor, and others of his clergy and
friars, began to examine him, and charge him, that, contrary to the
catholic faith, he denied praying to saints, and the supremacy of the
pope. To whom he answered in so correct a manner, and so learn-
edly proved and defended his assertions, that he not only confounded
an(l put to silence his adversaries, but also filled them with great ad-
miration of his abilities, and pity and compassion for his situation
The friars took great pains with him to persuade him to recant and
acknowledge his fault, concerning the bills ; but it was in vain, for God
had appointed him to be a witness of his holy name.
His house was then searched for books and papers ; and his wifo
much ill-treated by the officers employed ; but she, being like her hus
band, a member of Christ's true church, bore all their insults patiently
and " when they reviled her, answered them not again."
Benet was now, during eight days, constantly beset by priests and
friars, who tried all arts to induce him to be "reconciled" with the
church of Rome ; but all their efforts were vain ; he remained firm in
the faith, and would not relinquish the cross which he had taken up.
PROGRESS OF THE REFORM ATIOIS. 255
The principal point between him and his opponents was touching
the supremacy of the bishop of Rome, whom in his bills he had
named, " Antichrist, the tliief, the mercenary, and murderer of Christ's
flock." They who liad so/r.e learning persuaded him to believe the
church, and shoAved by what tokens she is known. The unlearned
railed, and said, "That the devil tempted him," and spit upon him,
calling him heretic. He prayed God to give them a better mind, and
to forgive them: "For," said he, "I will rather die, than worship
such a beast, the very whore of Babylon, and a false usurper, as mani-
festly doth appear by his doings." They asked, " What he did, that
he had no power and authority to do, being God's vicar?" — "He
doth," replied he, "sell the sacraments for money, he selleth remis-
sion of sins daily for money, and so do you likewise : for there is no
day but ye say divers masses for souls in purgatory : yea, and ye spare
not to make lying sermons to the people, to maintain your false tra-.
ditions, and foul gains. The whole world begins now to note your
doings, to your utter confusion and shame." — " The shame," cried
ihey, " shall be to thee, and such as thou, foul heretic. Wilt thou
allow nothing done in holy church ?" — ." I am," said he, " no heretic;
but a Christian, I thank Christ; and with all my heart will allow all
things done and used in the church to the glory of God, and edifying
of my soul ; but I see nothing in your church, but that maintdineth
the devil." — "What is our church?" asked they. "It is not my
church," replied Benet, "God give me grace to be of a better church;
for verily your church is the church of antichrist, the malignant
church, the second church, a den of thieves, and as far wide from the
true xmiversal and apostolic church, as heaven is distant from the
earth."
" Dost thou not think," said they, " that we pertain to the universal
church ?" — " Yes," answered he, " but as dead members, unto whom
the church is not beneficial: for your works are the devices of man, and
your church a weak foundation ; for ye say and preach that the pope's
word is equal with God's in every degree." — " Why," asked they,
" did not Christ say to Peter, To thee I will give the keys of the king-
dom of Heaven?" — "He said that," replied he, "to all as well as to
Peter, and Peter had no more authority given him than they, or else
the churches planted in every kingdom by their preaching are no
churches. Doth not St. Paul say, ' Upon the foundations of the apos-
tles and prophets ?' Therefore, I say plainly, that the church that is
built upon a man, is the devil's church, or congregation, and not God's.
And as every church this day is appointed to be ruled by a bishop or
pastor, ordained by the word of God in preaching and administration
of the sacraments under the prince, the supreme governor under God;
so to say, that all the churches, with their princes and governors, be
subject to one bishop, is detestable heresy ; and the pope, your god,
challenging this power to himself, is the greatest schismatic that ever
was."
" O thou blind and unlearned fool !" cried they, " is not the con-
Tession and consent of all the world as we confess and consent ; that
the pope's holiness is the supreme head and vicar of Christ ?" — " That
IS," said Isenet, " because they are blinded, and know not the scrip-
tures; but if God would of his meicy open the eyes of princes to
know their office, his false supremacy would soon decay." — " We
260 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
think," said they, " thou art so malicious, that thou wilt confess no
cliurch." — " Look," said he, " where they are that confess the true
iiarne of Jesus Christ, where only Christ is the head, and bishops,
ninisters, and preachers, do their duties in setting forth the glorv of
God by preaching his word ; and where it is preached, that Christ is
our only advocate, mediator, and patron before his Father, making
intercession for us ; and where the true faith and confidence in Christ's
death and passion, and his only merits and deservings are extolled,
and our own depressed; where the sacrament is duly, without super-
stition or idolatry, administered in remembrance of his blessed passion,
and only sacrifice upon the cross once for all, and where no supersti-
tion reigneth ; of that church will 1 be."
" Doth not the pope," asked they, " confess the tru,e gospel ? do
not we all the same ?" — " Yes," said he, " but ye deny the fruits
thereof in every point. Ye build upon the sands, not upon the rock."
— "And wilt thou not believe indeed," said they, "that the pope is
God's vicar ?" — " No," said he, " indeed !" — " And why ?" — " Because
he usurpeth a power not given him of Christ, no more than to other
apostles ; also, because by force of that usurped supremacy, he blinds
the whole world, and doth contrary to all that ever Christ ordained or
commanded." — " What," said they, "if he do all things after God's
ordinance and commandment, should he then be his vicar ?" — " Then,"
said he, " would I believe him to be a good bishop at Rome, over his
own diocese, and to have no further power. And if it pleased God,
I would every bishop did this in their diocese : then should we live a
peaceable life in the church of Christ, and there should be no sedi-
tions therein. If every bishop would seek no further power, it were
a goodly thing. But now, because all are subject to one, all must do
and consent to all wickedness as he doth, or be none of his. This is
the cause of great superstition in every kingdom; and what bishop
soever he be that preacheth the gospel, and maintaineth the truth, is
a true bishop of the church." — "And doth not," said they, " our holy
father, the pope, maintain the gospel ?" — " Yea," said he, " I think
he doth read it, and peradventure Ijelieve it, and so do you also ; but
neither he nor you do fix the anchor of your salvation therein. Be-
sides that, ye bear such a good will to it, that ye keep it close, that
no man may read it but yourselves. And when you preach, God
knows how you hand'e it : insomuch, that the people of Christ know
no gospel but the pope's ; and so the blind lead the blind, and both
fall into the pit."
Then said a black friar to him, " Thou blockhead ! do we not
preach the gospel daily ?" — " Yes," replied Benet, " but what preach-
ing of the gospel is that, when you extol superstitious things, and
make us believe that we have redemption through pardons and bulls
from Rome, a posna et culpa, as ye term it? and by the merits of
your orders ye make many brethren and sisters, ye take yearly money
of them, ye bury them in your coats, and in shrift ye beguile them :
yea, and do a thousand superstitious things more ; a man may be
weary to speak of them." — " I see," cried the liberal friar, " thou art
a damned wretch ! I will have no more talk with thee."
After this, another of the same order addressed him, and endea-
voured to shake Lis faith by representing to him the great dangers to
which he exposed himself. " I take God to record," said Benet, "my
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 257
life is not dear to me ; I am content to depart from it ; for I am weary
of it, seeing your detestable doings, to the utter destruction of God's
flock ; and, for my part, I can no longer forbear ; I had rather, by
death, which I know is not far off, depart this life, that I may no lon-
ger be partaker of your idolatries, or be subject to antichrist, youi
pope." — "Our pope," said the friar, "is the vicar of God, and our
ways are the ways of God." — " I pray you," cried Benet, " depart
from me, and tell not me of your ways. He is only my way which
saith, ' I am the way, the truth, and tlie life.' In this way will I walk,
his doings shall be my example, not yours, nor your pope's. His truth
will I embrace, not your falsehood. His everlasting life will I seek,
the true reward of all faithful people. Vex my soul no longer ; ye
will not prevail. There is no good example, in you, no truth in you,
no life to be hoped for at your hands. Ye are more vain than vanity
itself. If I should hear and follow you, everlasting death would hang
over me, a just reward for all that love the life of this world."
His enemies, at length, finding both their threats and their persua-
sions equally useless, proceeded to judgment, and condemned him to
the flames ; which being done, and the writ which they had procured
being brought from London, they delivered him, on the 15th of Janu-
ary, 1531, to Sir Thomas Dennis, knight, then sheriflf of Devonshire,
to be burned.
The holy martyr, rejoicing that his end approached so near, yielded
himself, with all humbleness, to abide and suffer the cross of persecu-
tion. And being brought to the place of execution, near Exeter, he
made his humble confession and prayer unto Almighty God, and re-
quested all the people present to pray for him ; exhorting them, at the
same time, with such gravity, and sobriety, and with such force of lan-
guage, to seek the true knowledge and honour of God, and to leave
the vain imaginations of man's invention, that all the hearers were as-
tonished, and in great admiration; and most of them confessed that
he was God's servant, and a good man.
Nevertheless, two gentlemen, named Thomas Carew and John
Barnehouse, standing at the stake by him, first with promises and fair
words, but at length with threatenings, urged him to revoke his errors,
to call to our lady and the saints, and to say, " Precor sanctum Ma-
riam, et omnes saiictos Dei," <fcc. To whom he, with all meekness,
answered, saying, " No, no ; it is God only upon whose name we must
call, and we have no other advocate to him but Jesus Christ, who
died for us, and now sitteth at the right hand of the Father to be an ad-
vocate for us, and by him must we offer and make our prayers to God,
if we will have them to take place and be heard." With which answer
Barnehouse was so enraged, that he took a furze-bush upon a pike,
and setting it on fire, thrust it into his face, saying, " Heretic ! pray-
to our lady, and say, Sancta Maria, ora pro nobis, or by God's wounds
I will make thee do it."
To whom the martyr meekly and patiently answered, " Alas, Sir,
trouble me not ;" and holding up his hands, he said, " Pater ignoscc
illis.''^ Whereupon the persecutors caused the wood and furze to be
set on fire, and Benet, lifting up his eyes and hands to heaven, cried
out, " 0 Domine, recipe spiritum mcum.''^ And so continued in his
prayers until his life was ended.
To the martyrdoms which have already been recorded, many othei's
17
2,58 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
might be added ; but our limits require us to conclude our account o5
;he persecutions under Henry VIII, which wo shall do with the story
and martyrdom of William Tindall ; who, although he did not suffer
in England, deserves a conspicuous notice in these pages, for his great
zeal and perseverance in the dissemination of truth.
Life and Martyrdom of William Tindall.
William Tindall was born about the borders '^f Wales, and brought
up, from a child, in the University of Oxford, ^\ lere, by long continu-
ance, he grew up, and increased, as well in the knowledge of tongues
and other liberal arts, as in the knowledge of the scriptures, to the
study of which he was much addicted ; insomuch, that being then in
Magdalen hall, he read privately to some of the students and fellows
of Magdalen college, in divinity ; instructing them in the knowledge
and truth of the scriptures ; and all that knew him reputed and es-
teemed him to be a man of most virtuous disposition, and of unspot
ted life.
Having remained some time at Oxford, he removed to the univer-
sity of Cambridge, where, having made great progress in his studies,
he quitted that place, and going to Gloucestershire, engaged himself
to a knight named Welch, as tutor to his children. To this gentle-
man's hospitable table used to resort several abbots, deans, and other
beneficed clergymen, with whom Tindall used to converse on the sub-
jects which at that time principally occupied the attention of all per-
sons— viz. divinity, and the scriptures.
Tindall, being learned, and well acquainted with the sacred wri-
tings, would at first simply avow his opinions, and if those with whom
'he discoursed objected to his reasonings, he would shoAV them the
book, and lay plainly before them the open and manifest language
of the scriptures, to confute their errors, and confirm his sayings.
And thus they continued for a lime, reasoning and contending toge-
ther, till at length his opponents became envious, and bore a secret
grudge in their hearts against him.
Not long after this, it happened that some of these doctors invited
Mr. Welch and his wife to a banquet, where they spoke to them with-
out the fear of contradiction, uttering their blindness and ignorance.
Then Welch and his wife coming home, and calling for Mr. Tindall,
began to reason with him about these matters ; when Tindall^ as
usual, answered by scriptures, maintained the truth, and reproved
their false opinions. Then said the Lady Welch, a worldly-wise
woman, " Well, there was such a doctor, which may spend an hun-
dred, another two hundred, and another three hundred pounds ; and
were it reason, think you, that we should believe you before them?"
Tindall gave no answer to this display of purse-proud ignorance at
that time, and after that, as he saw it would not much avail, he talked
but little of those matters. At that time he was about the translation
of a book called Enchiridion militis Christiani, which being finished,
he delivered to Mr. Welch and his lady ; and after they had well pe-
rused the same, they were awakened, in some measure, and the pre-
lates and abbots were not so often invited to their house, neither were
they so heartily welcomed when they came, as before ; which they
perceiving, and concluding that it came by means of Tindall, at last
entirely absented themselves from the house
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 250
Upon this, the priests of tlie country concerting together, began to
rail against Tindall, in ale-liouses and other places. Tindall himself,
in his prologue befire the first book of Moses, thus mentions their ill
treatment of him. " I suffered much," says he, " in that country by
a sort of unlearned priests, being rude and ignorant, God knoweth ;
which have seen no more Latin than that only whfch they read in their
portesses and missals ; which yet many of them can scarcely read,
except it be Alhertus de secretis mnlicrvm, in which yet, though they
be never so sorrily learned, they pore day and night, and make notes
therein, and all to teach the midwives, as they say; and also another
called Lindwood, a book of constitutions to gather tithes, mortuaries,
oflerings, customs, and other pillage, which they call not theirs, but
God's part, the duty of the holy church, to discharge their consciences
withal. For they are bound that they shall not diminish bnt increase
all things unto the uttermost of their powers, which pertain to holy
church."
But these blind priests did not only revile him ; but, by perverting
what he really said, and adding many false and malicious lies of theii
own, made out a charge of heresy against him, on which he was ac-
cused, and summoned before the bishop's chancellor.
When he appeared before the chancellor, that officer " threatened
him grievously, reviling and rating at him as though he had been a
dog, and laid to hlj chaige many things whereof no accuser yet could
be brought forth, notwithstanding that the priests of the country were
there present." As they were unable to substantiate their charges,
Tindall returned home again.
Not long after, Tindall happened to be in company with a certain
divine, who was accounted a learned man, and in disputing with him,
the doctor, overcome by passion, burst out with these blasphemous
words, "We were better to be without God's laws than the pope's."
Mr. Tindall, hearing this, full of godly zeal, and shocked by that blas-
phemous saying, replied, "I defy the pope, and all his laws ;" and
added, " If God spare my life, ere many years, I will cause a boy that
driveth the plough to know more of the scripture than you do."
After this, the grudge of the priests increasing more and more
against Tindall, they never ceased railingat him, and laid many things
to his charge, saying, " That he was a heretic in sophistry, in logic,
and in divinity;" and, "That, although he conducted himself boldly
to the gentlemen in that county, shortly he should be otherwise talk-
ed withal." To whom Tindall replied, "That he was contented they
should bring him into any county in England, giving him ten pounds
a year to live with, and binding him to no more but to teach children
and to preach."
In short, being constantly molested and vexed by the priests, he
was constrained to leave that part of the country, and to seek another
residence ; and so coming to Mr. Welch, he requested his perniission
to depart, saying, "Sir, I perceive that 1 shall not be suffered to tarry
long here in this country, neither shall you be able, though you would,
to keep me out of the ..ands of the spirituality ; and also what dis-
])leasure might grow thereby to you by keeping me, God knoweth,
for the which I should be sorry." He accordingly departed, and came
up to London, and there preached awhile. At length, recollecting
the great commendations bestowed by Erasmus on Tonstall, then
260 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
bishop of London, he thought that it might be very advantageous for
hiin, if he could obtain a situation in his service. He accordingly
waited on Sir Henry Gilford, the king's comptroller, and bringing
with him an oration of Isocrates, which he had translated out of Greek
into English, he desired him to speak to the bishop for him ; which
he did; and desired ^indall to write to Tonstall, who accordingly did
so, and delivered his epistle to a servant. But God, who secretly dis-
poses all things, saw that was not the best for Tindall's purpose, nor
for the profit of his church, and therefore allowed him not to find fa-
vour in the bishop's sight, who said, " That his house was full ; he
had more than he could well maintain ; and advised him to seek else-
where in London ; where," he said, " he could lack no service."
Tindall, therefore, remained in London almost a year, during which
time he remarked the demeanour of the preachers, how they boasted
of themselves, and set up their authority and kingdom; also the pomp
of the prelates, with many other things which greatly vexed him, and
plainly convinced him that England was no place for him to translate
the New Testament. Having, therefore, obtained some assistance
from his friend, Humphrey Munmouth, and other good men, he de-
parted to Germany ; where, being inflamed with zeal for his country,
he studied, by all possible means, to bring his countrymen to the same
understanding of God's holy word and verity, as he himself, by God's
blessing, enjoyed.
He perceived, that the principal cause of the people's blindness,
and of the gross errors of the church, with all their evils, was the scrip-
tures being concealed in an unknown tongue, by which the truth was
kept out of sight, and the corruptions of the priests remained unde-
tected ; and therefore all the labour of these men was to keep it
down, so that either it should not be read at all, or if it were, they
would darken the right sense with the mist of their sophistry, and so
entangle those who rebuked or despised their abominations, worldly
similitudes, and apparent reasons of natural wisdom, and by wresting
the scripture to their own purpose, contrary to the meaning of the text,
would so delude and amaze the unlearned people, that though they
were sure that all were false, yet could they not solve those subtle
riddles.
By these and such other considerations this good man was moved
and stirred up of God, to translate the scripture into his mother
tongue, for the utility and profit of the simple people of the country.
He began with the New Testament, which he translated about the
year 1527. After that he took in hand the Old Testament, finishing
the five books of Moses, with learned and godly prefaces to every
book, as he had also done upon the New Testament.
He also wrote various other works, amongst which was, " The
Obedience of a Christian man," wherein with singular dexterity he in-
structed all men in the office and duty of Christian obedience; another
treatise was entitled, "The wicked Mammon, the practice of Prelates;"
with expositions upon certain parts of scripture and other books, in an-
swer to Sir Thomas More, and other adversaries of the truth.
His books being published, and sent over to England, it cannot be
imagined, what a door of light they opened to the eyes of the whole
nation, which before had been during several centuries shut up in
'larkness.
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 261
At his first departure, he had journeyed into Saxony, where he had
a conference with Luther, and other learned men ; and after making
a short stay there, he went into the Netherlands, and resided mostly
in the town of Antwerp.
An unfortunate accident occasioned a considerable delay in the
publication of his Old Testament. Having finished the five books ol
Moses, he set sail to Hamburgh, with the intention of printing them
there. But on his voyage, he was shipwrecked, and lost all his manu-
scripts, with almost all he possessed. He, however, in another ves-
sel, pursued his voyage, and arriving at Hamburgh, Mr. Coverdale
helped him in the re-translating what had been lost, which occupied
them from Easter till December, 1529, in the house of a Miss Mar-
garet Van Emmerson. Having despatched his business, he returned
to Antwerp.
When the New Testament was ready for publication, Tindall added
at the end, a letter wherein he desired the learned to amend Avhatever
they found in it amiss. But the bishops and other clergy, not v.illing
to have that book prosper, cried out against it, asserting that there
were a thousand heresies in it, and that it was not to be corrected,
but utterly suppressed. Some said it was not possible to translate
the scripture into English ; others, that it was not lawful for the laity
to have it in theii mother tongue, as it would make them all heretics.
And to induce the temporal rulers to assist them in their purpose, they
said that it would make the people rebel, and rise against the king.
The bishops and prelates of the realm, thus incensed and inflamed
in their minds, and conspiring together, how to suppress the cause ot
their alarm, never rested, till they had brought the king at last to issue
a proclamation ordaining that the Testament of Tindall's translation,
with his other works, and those of other reformed Avriters, should be
suppressed and burnt. This was about the year 1527. But, not con-
tented with this, the bloodythirstv crew proceeded further, and strove
to entangle him in their nets, and to bereave him of his life.
Whenever the bishops or Sir Thomas More had any poor man un-
der examination before them, who had been at Antwerp, they most
studiously would search and examine into every thing relating to
Tindall ; as, where and with whom he lodged ; what was his stature;
in what apparel he went ; what company he kept, &c. ; and when
they had made themselves acquainted with all these things, they then
began their work of darkness.
Tindall being in the town of Antwerp, had lodged, about a year, in
the house of Thomas Pointz, an Englishman, who kept there a house
for English merchants, when Henry Philips, in appearance a gentle-
man, and having a servant with him, arrived there ; but wherefore he
came, or for what purpose he was sent thither, no man could tell.
Tindall was frequently invited to dinner and supper among mer-
chants, by which means, this Henry Philips became acquainted with
him ; so that in a short tinje Tindall conceived a great friendship and
confidence for him, brought him to his lodging in the house of Pointz,
and had him also once or twice to dinner and supper, and further en-
tered into such friendship with him, that he brought him to lodge in
the house of Pointz. He also sliowed him his books and papers ; so
Utile did he then mistrust this traitor.
But Pointz having no great confidence in the fellow, asked Tindall
262 BOOK OF MARTfRS.
how he became acquainted with him. Tindall answeised, that he was
an honest man, tolerably learned, and very agreeable. Then Pointz,
perceiving that he was so partial to him, said no more, thinking that
he was brought acquainted with him by some friend of his.
Philips being in the town three or four days, desired Pointz to walli
out with him ; and in walking together without the town, they con-
versed on various subjects, and on some of the king's affairs ; by
which talk Pointz as yet suspected nothing, but, by the sequel, he
perceived what had been intended. In the mean time he learned,
that he bore no great good will to the reformation, or to the proceed-
ings of the king of England, and perceived about him a deal of mys-
tery and a sort of courting liim to make him subservient to his de-
signs, by the hopes of reward, he always appearing very full of
money. But Pointz kept at a distance.
Philips, finding that he could not bring him over to his designs,
went from Antwerp to the court at Brussels ; and, although the king
had then no ambassador there, being at variance with the emperor,
this traitor contrived to bring from thence with him to Antwerp, the
procurator-general, (the emperor's attorney,) with other officers ;
which was done at great expense.
A short time after, Pointz sitting at his door, Philip's servant came
to him, and asking whether Mr. Tindall were there, said, his master
would come to him, and so departed. But whether Philips were then
in the town or not, was not known ; for at that time Pointz saw no
more either of the master or of the man.
Within three or four days after, Pointz Avent on business to the
town of Barrow, eighteen English miles from Antwerp, and in the
time of his absence. Philips came again to the house of Pointz, and
coming in, asked Mrs. Pointz for Mr. Tindall, and whether he woult'
dine there with him, saying, " What good meat shall we have ?" She
answered, " Such as the market will give." Then he went out again,
and set the officers which he brought with him from Brussels, in the
street, and about the door. About noon he returned, and went to
Mr. Tindall, and desired him to lend him forty shillings ; " for," said
he, "I lost my purse this morning, coming over at the passage be-
tween this and Mechlin." So Tindall gave him forty shillings, being
very easily imposed upon, and entirely unskilled in the wiles and
subtleties of this world.
Philips then said, " Mr. Tindall, you shall be my guest here to day."
" No," said Tindall, " I am engaged this day to dinner, and you shall
go with me, and be my guest, where you shall be welcome." So
when it was dinner time they went.
At the going out of Pointz's house, was a long narrow entry; so
that two could not go in front. Tindall would have put Philips be-
fore him. But Philips woald not go, but insisted on Tindall's going
before. So Tindall, being a man of no great stature, went before, and
Philips, a tall, comely person, followed him ; and having set officers
on each side of the door on coming through, Philips pointed with his
finger over Tindall's head down to him, that the officers might see
that it was he whom they should take, as they afterwards told Pointz,
and said, that when they had laid him in prison, " they pitied his sim-
plicity when they took him." They accordingly seized him, and
brought him to the emperor's procurator-general, where he dined.
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 263
Then came the procurator-i;eneral to the house of Pointz, and sent
away all that Avas there of Mr. Tindall's, as well his books as other
things, and from thence Tindall Avas conveyed to the castle of Filford,
eighteen miles from Antwerp, where he remained until he was put to
death.
Some English merchants hearing of his apprehension, sent letters
in his favour to the court of Brussels. Also, not long after, letters
were sent from England to the council at Brussels, and to the mer-
chant adventurers at Antwerp, commanding them to see that those for
the council were instantly delivered. Then such of the chief of the
merch.-^.nts as were there at that time, being called together, required
Pointz to deliver those letters, Avith letters also from them in favour
"f Tindall, to the lord of BarroAV and others.
The lord of BarroAV at that time had departed from Brussels, as the
chief conductor of the eldest daughter of the king of Denmark, to be
married to the palsgrave, Avhose mother Avas sister to the emperor.
Pointz, Avhen he heard of his departure, rode after, and overtook him
at Achon, Avhere he delivered to him his letters; to Avhich he made
no direct ansAver, but somcAvhat objecting, said, " There Avere some of
his countrymen Avho had been burned in England not long before;"
as, indeed, there Avere anabaptists burned in Smithfield, Avhich Pointz
acknoAvledged. " Howbeit," said he, " Avhatsoever the crime Avas,
if your lordship, or any other nobleman had Avritten, requiring to have
thein, I think they should not have been denied." " Well," said he,
" 1 have no leisure to Avrite, for the princess is ready to ride."
Then said Pointz, " If it please your lordship, I Avill attend upon
you unto the next baiting place," Avhich Avas at Maestricht. " If you
AAdll," replied he, " I Avill advise myself by the Avay Avhat to Avrite."
Upon this, Pointz folloAved him from Achon to Maestricht, fifteen
English miles, and there he received letters of him, one to the coun-
cil at Brussels, another to the company of the merchant adventurers,
and a third to the Lord CromAvell in England.
Pointz then rode to Brusscl'', and there delivered to the council
the letters from England, Avith the lord of BarroAv's letters also, and
received answers for England, Avhich he brought to AntAverp to the
English merchants, Avho required him to carry them into England.
He, very desirous to haA^e Mr. Tindall out of prison, forbore no pains,
nor regarded the loss of time in his OAvn business, but immediately
sailed with the letters, Avhich he delivered to the council, and Avas
commanded by them to Avait until he had answers, Avhich Avas not till
a month after. At length receiving them, he returned again, and de-
livered them to the emperor's council at Brussels, and there Avaited
for their ansAver.
When he had remained there three or four days, he was told by a
person Avho belonged to the chancery, that Tindall should have been
delivered to him according to the tenor of the letters ; but Philips
being there, followed the, suit against Tindall, and hearing that he
Avas to be delivered to Pointz, and doubting lest he should thus lose
his victim, determined to accuse Pointz also, saying, " That he was
a dweller in the toAvn of Antwerp, and there had been a succourer of
Tindall, and Avas one of the same opinion : and that all this Avas
only his oavu labour and suit, to have Tindall at liberty, and no man
else."
264 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Thus, upon his information and accusation, Pointz was attached
by the procurator-general, delivered to the custody of two Serjeants
at arms, and the same evening was examined by a person belonging
to the chancery, with the procurator-general, who put him to his oath,
that he should truly make answer to all such things as should be in-
quired of him. The next day likewise they came again, and further
examined him ; and so five or six days one after another, upon more
than a hundred articles, as well of the king's affairs, as of the mes-
sages concerning Tindall, of his aiders, and of his religion. Out
of which examinations the procurator-general drew up twenty-three
or twenty-four articles against Pointz, the copy whereof he delivered
to him to make answer to, and permitted him to have an advocate and
proctor ; and it was ordered, that eight days after he should deliver
to them his answer ; also, that he should send no messenger to Ant-
werp, nor to any other place, but by the post of the town of Brus-
sels ; nor send any letters, nor any to be delivered to him, but such as
were written in Dutch, and the procurator-general, who was party
against him, was to peruse and examine them thoroughly, contrary to
all right and equity, before they were sent or delivered ; neither was
any person sufi'ered to speak or talk with him in any other tongue or
language, except the Dutch, so that his keepers, who were Dutch-
men, might understand what was said. After this Pointz delivered
his answer to the procurator-general, and afterwards, at intervals of
eight days each, replications and answers were made by both
parties.
When the commissioners came to Pointz, the traitor Philips* ac-
companied them to the door, as following the process against him ; as
he also did against Tindall.
Thus Pointz was exposed to much trouble and suffering on account
of his generous exertions in favour of Tindall. He was long kept
in prison ; but, at length, when he saw no other remedy, by night he
made his escape. But the pious Tindall could not so escape, but re-
mained during a year and a half in prison ; and then being brought
to his trial, was offered to have an advocate and a proctor. But he
refused the offer, saying, " That he would answer for himself;" and
so he did.
At last, after much reasoning, where all reason was disregarded, he
was condemned by virtue of the emperor's decree, made in the assem-
bly at Augsburgh, and brought to the place of execution, where he
was tied to the stake, and then strangled first by the hangman, and
afterwards consumed with fire in the town of Filford, A. D. 1536;
crying thus at the stake vv^ith a fervent zeal, and a loud voice, " Lord,
open the king of England's eyes."
Such was the power of the doctrine, and the sincerity of the life of
this amiable man, and glorioys martyr, that during ^\s imprisonment
he converted the keeper, his daughter, and others of his household.
Also all that were conversant with him in the castle acknowledged,
that " if he were not a good Christian, thev could not tell whom to
trust."
» It is said that Philips, who betrayed Tindall and Pointz, died of a loathsoma
disease, being consumed by vermin, who preyed upoil his living carcase.
PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 265
Even the procurator-general left this testimony of him, that " he
was a learned, an excellent, and a godly man."
To enumerate the virtues and actions of this blessed martyr, would
require much time, and many pages. Suffice it to say, that he was
one of those who, by his works, shone as a sun of light amidst a dark
world, and gave evidence that he was a faithful servant of his master
and saviour, Jesus Christ.
SECTION IV
PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND, DURING THE FIFTEENTH AND PART OF
THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.
Having brought our account of the sufferings and martyrdoms of
the English reformers down to the death of Henry the Eighth, we
shall now proceed to relate the cruel persecutions of God's faithful
servants in Scotland, to the same period ; but it will previously be
necessary to give a short sketch of the progress of the reformation in
that country.
The long alliance between Scotland and France, had rendered the
two nations extremely attached to each other ; and Paris was the
place where the learned of Scotland had their education. Yet early
in the fifteenth century, learning was more encouraged in Scotland,
and universities were founded in several of the episcopal sees. About
the same time, some of Wickliffe's followers began to show themselves
in Scotlctnd ; and an Englishman, named Resby, was burnt in HO'l'i,
for teaching some opinions contrary to the pope's authority.
Some years after that, Paul Craw, a Bohemian, who had beejs
converted by Huss, was burnt for infusing the opinions of that mar-
tyr into some persons at St. Andrew's.
About the end of the fifteenth century, Lollardy, as it was then
called, spread itself into many parts of the diocese of Glasgow, for
which several persons of quality were accused ; but they answered
the archbishop of that see with so much boldness and truth, that he
dismissed them, having admonished them to content themselves with
the faith of the church, and to beware of new doctrines.
The same spirit of ignorance, immorality, and superstition, had
over-run the church of Scotland that was so much complained of in
other parts of Europe. The total neglect of the pastoral care, and
the scandalous lives of the clergy, filled the people with such preju-
dices against tliem, that they were easily disposed to hearken to new
preachers, amongst the most conspicuous of whom was Patrick
Hamilton.
Story and Martyrdom of Patrick Hamilton.
This noble martyr was nephew, by his father, to the earl of Arran,
and by his mother, to the duke of Albany. He was educated for the
church, and would have been highly preferred, having an abbey given
him for prosecuting his studies. But going over to Germany, and
studying at the university of Marpurg, he soon distinguished himself
by his zeal, assiduity, and great progress, particularly in the scrip-
tures, which were his grand object, and to which he made every thing
else subservient. He also became acquainted with Luther and Me-
266 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
lancthon ; and being convinced, from his own researches, of the
trutli of their doctrines, he burned to impart the light of the gospel to
his own countrymen, and to show them the errors and corruptions ol
their church. For this great purpose he returned to Scotland.
After preaching some time, and holding up the truth to his deludeu
countrymen, he was, at length, invited to St. Andrew's to confer upon
the points in question. But his enemies could not stand the light,
and finding they could not defend themselves by argument, resolved
upon revenge. Hamilton was accordingly imprisoned. Articles
were exhibited against him, in which he was charged with having
denied free-will ; advocated justification by faith alone ; and declared
that faith, hope, and charity, are so linked together, that one cannot
exist in the breast without the other.
Upon his refusing to abjure these doctrines, Beaton, arclibishop of
St. Andrew's, with the archbishop of Glasgow, three bishops, and five
abbots, condemned him as an obstinate heretic, delivered him to the
secular power, and ordered his execution to take place that very
afternoon ; for the king had gone in pilgrimage to Ross, and they were
afraid, lest, upon his return, Hamilton's fiiends might have interceded
efiectually for him. When he was tied to the stake, he expressed
great joy in his sufferings, since by these he was to enter into ever-
lasting life.
A train of powder being fired, it did not kindle the fuel, but only
burnt his face, which occasioned a delay till more powder was
bro\ight ; and in that time the friars continually urged him to recant,
and pray to the Virgin, saying the Salve Res^ina. Among the rest, a
friar named Campbell, who had been often with him in prison, was
very officious. Hamilton answered him, that he knew he was not a
heretic, and had confessed it to him in private, and charged him to
answer for that at the throne of Almighty God.* By this time the
gunpowder was brought, and the fire being kindled, he died, repeat-
ing these words, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit ! How long, oh
Lord ; how long shall darkness overwhelm this kingdom ? and how
long wilt thou suffer the tyranny of these men?" He suffered death
in the year 1527.
The views and doctrines of this glorious martyr were such as could
not fail to excite the highest admiration of every real believer ; and
they were expressed with such brevity, such clearness, and such pe-
culiar vigou'* and beauty, (forming in themselves a complete summary
of the gospel,) that they afforded instruction to all who sought to know
more of God.
The force of the truths preached by Hamilton, the firmness of his
death, and the singular catastrophe of friar Campbell, made strong
impressions on the people ; and many received the new opinions.
Scaton, a Dominican, the king's confessor, preaching in Lent, set
out the nature and method of true repentance, without mixing the di-
rections which the friars commonly gave on that subject; and when
another friar attempted to shew the defectiveness of what he had
taught, Seaton defended himself in another sermon, and reflected on
those bishops who did not preach, calling them dumb-dogs. But the
clergy dared not meddle with him, till they had by secret insinuations
* A short time after this, Campbell became mad, and died within a year.
PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 261
ruined bis credit with the king ; and the freedom he used in reproving
him for his vices, quickly alienated James from Iwm ; upon which he
withdrew into England, and wrote to the king, taxing the clergy for
their cruelty, and praying him to restrain it.
Martyrdom of six Persons.
In 1543, the archbishop of St. Andrew's, making a visitation into
various parts of his diocese, several persons wei-e accused at Perth of
heresy. Among these the six following were condemned to die : Wil-
liam Anderson, Robert Lamb, James Finlayson, James Hunter, James
Raveleson, and Helen Stark.
The accusations laid against them were to the following effect :
The four first were accused of having hung up the image of St.
Francis, nailing rams' horns on his head, and fastening a cow's tail
to his rump ; but the principal matter on which they were condemned
was, having regaled themselves with a goose on AUhallows eve, a fast
day, according to the Romish superstition.
James Raveleson was accused of having ornamented his house with
the three crowned diadem of Peter, carved in wood, which the arch-
bishop conceived to be done in mockery to his cardinal's hat.
Helen Stark was accused of not having accustomed herself to pray
to the Virgin Mary, more especially during the time she was in child-
bed.
. On these accusations they were all found guilty, and immediately
received sentence of death ; the four men for eating the goose to be
hanged; James Raveleson to be burnt; and the woman, with her
sucking infant, to be put into a sack, and drowned.
The four men, with the woman and child, suffered at the same time ;
but James Raveleson was not executed till some days after.
On the day appointed for the execution of the former, they were all
conducted, under a proper guard, to the place where they were to suf-
fer, and were attended by a prodigious number of spectators.
As soon as they arrived at the place of execution, they all fervently
prayed for some time ; after which Robert Lamb addressed himself to
the spectators, exhorting them to fear God, and to quit the practice of
papistical abominations.
The four men were all hanged on the same gibbet; and the woman,
with her sucking child, were conducted to a river adjoining, when,
being fastened in a large sack, they were thrown into it, and drowned.
They all suffered their fate with becoming fortitude and resignation,
committing their departing spirits to that Redeemer who was to be
their final judge, and who, they had reason to hope, would usher
them into the realms of everlasting bliss.
When we reflect on the sufferings of these unhappy persons, we
are naturally induced, both as men and Christians, to lament their fate,
and to express our feelings by dropping the tear of commiseration.
The putting to death four men, for little other reason than that of sa-
tisfying nature with an article sent by Providence for that very pur-
pose, merely because it was on a day prohibited by ridiculous bigotry
and superstition, is shocking indeed ; but the fate of the innocent wo-
man, and her still more harmless infant, makes human nature tremble
at the contemplation of what mankind may become, when incited by
bigotry to the gratification of the most diabolical cruelty.
268 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Uesides the above mentioned persons, many others were cruelly
persecuted during the archbishop's stay at Perth, some being banished,
and others confined in loathsome dungeons. In particular, John
Rogers, a pious and learned man, was, by the archbishop's orders,
murdered in prison, and his body thrown over the walls into the street ;
after Avliich the archbishop caused a report to be spread, that he had
met with his death in an attempt to make his escape.
Within a few years after the death of Patrick Hamilton, several
others suffered for preaching and maintaining the doctrines of that
truly pious man ; among these, none were more distinguished than
Mr. George Wishart.
Life, Sufferings, and Martyrdom of George Wishart.
Mr. George Wishart was born in Scotland, and after receiving a
grammatical education at a private school, he left that place, and
finished his studies at the university at Cambridge.
The following character of him, during his residence at that univer-
sity, was written by one of his scholars, and contains so just a picture
of this excellent man, that we give it at length.
"About the year of our Lord 1543, there was in the university of
Cambridge one Mr. George Wishart, commonly called Mr. George of
Bennet's college, who was a man of tall stature, bald-headed, and on
the same wore a round French cap ; judged to be of melancholy com
plexion by his physiognomy, black -haired, long-bearded, comely of
personage, well spoken after his country of Scotland, courteous, lowly,
lovely, glad to teach, desirous to lea n, and was well travelled : having
on him for his habit of clothing, never but a mantle of frieze down to
the shoes, a black millian fustian doublet, and plain black hose, coarse
new canvass for his shirts, and white falHng bands and cuffs at his
hands. All the which apparel he gave to the poor, some weekly,
some monthly, some quarterly, as he liked, saving his French cap,
which he kept the whole year of my being with him.
"He was a man modest, temperate, fearing God, hating covetous-
ness ; for his charity had never end, night, noon, nor day ; he forbear
one meal in three, one day in four, for the most part, except some-
thing to comfort nature. He lay hard, upon a puff of straw, and coarse
new canvass sheets, which -when he changed he gave away. He had
commonly by his bed-side a tub of water, in the which (his people
being in bed, the candle put out and all quiet) he used to bathe him-
p^'lf, as I being very young, being assured, often heard him, and in
one light night discerned him. He loved me tenderly, and I him, for
my age, as effectually. He taught with great modesty and gravity,
so that some of his people thought him severe, and would have slain
him, but the Lord was his defence. And he, after due correction for
their malice, by good exhortation amended them and went his wa>.
O that the Lord had left him to me his poor boy, that he might have;
finished that he had begun ! for in his religion he was as you see heie
in the rest of his life, when he went into Scotland with divers of the
nobility, that came for a treaty to King Henry the Eighth. His learn
ing was no less sufficient, than his desire ; always pressed and ready
to do good in that he was able, both in the house privately, and in ihe
school publicly, professing and reading divers authors.
' If I should declare his love to me, and all men, his charity to the
PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 269
poor, in giving, relieving, caring, helping, providing, yea, infinitely
studying how to do good unto all, and hurt to none, I should sooner
want words than just cause to commend him.
" All this I testify with my whole heart, and truth, of this godly man.
He that made all, governeth all, and shall judge all, knoweth that 1
speak the truth, that the simple may be satisfied, the arrogant con
founded, the hypocrite disclosed. Emery Tylney."
In order to improve himself as much as possible in the knowledge
of literature, he travelled into various foreign countries, where he dis-
tinguished himself for his great learning and abilities, both in philoso-
phy and divinity. His desire to promote true knowledge and science
among men, accompanied the profession of it himself. He was very
ready to communicate what he knew to others, and frequently read
various authors, both in his own chamber, and in the public schools.
After being some time abroad, he returned to England, and took up
his residence at Cambridge, where he was admitted a member of Ben-
aet college. Having taken his degrees, he entered into holy orders,
and expounded the gospel in so clear and intelligible a manner, as
highly to delight his numerous auditors.
Being desirous of propagating the true gospel in his OAvn country, he
left Cambridge in 1544, and in his way to Scotland preached in most
of the principal towns, to the great satisfaction of his hearers.
On his arrival in his native land, he first preached at Montrose, and
afterwards at Dundee. In this last place he made a public exposition
of the epistle to the Romans, which he went through with so much
grace, eloquence, and freedom, as delighted the reformers, and alarm-
ed the papists.
In consequence of this exposition, one Robert Miln, a principal
man of Dundee, went, by command of Cardinal Beaton, to the church,
where Wishart preached, and in the midst of his discourse, publicly
told him " not to trouble the town any more, for he was determined
not to sufier it."
This treatment greatly surprised Wishart, who, after a short pause,
looking sorrowfully on the speaker and audience, said, " God is my
witness, that I never intended your trouble, but your comfort ; yea,
your trouble is more grievous to me than it is to yourselves ; but I am
assured, to refuse God's word, and to chase from you his messenger,
shall not preserve you from trouble, but shall bring you into it ; for
God shall send you ministers that shall neither fear burning nor ba-
nishment. I have offered you the word of salvation. With the hazard
of my life I have remained among you : now ye yourselves refuse
me ; and I must leave my innocence to be declared by my God. If
it be long prosperous with you, I am not led by the spirit of truth ; but
if unlooked-for trouble come upon you, acknowledge the cause, and
turn to God, who is gracious and merciful. But if you turn not at the
first warning, he will visit you with fire and sword." At the close of
this speech he left the pulpit and retired.
After this he went into the west of Scotland, where he preached
God's word, which was gladly received by many ; till the archbishop
of Glasgow, at the instigation of Cardinal Beaton, came with his train
to the town of Ayr, to suppress Wishart, and insisted on havingi- *' .
church to preach in himself. Some opposed this ; but Wish.ul said,
"Let him alone, his sermon will not do much hurt; let us go to the
270 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
market-cross." This was agreed to, and Wishart preached a sermon
that gave imiversal satisfaction to his hearers, and at the same time
confounded his enemies.
He continued to propagate the gospel with the greatest alacrity,
preaching sometimes in one place, and sometimes in another; but
coming to Macklene, he was, by force, kept out of the church. Some
of his followers would have broken in ; upon which he said to one
of them, " Brother, Jesus Christ is as mighty in the fields as in the
church ; and himself often preached in the desert, at the seaside, and
other places. The like word of peace God sends by me ; the blood
of none shall be shed this day for preaching it."
He then went into the fields, where he preached to the people for
above three hours ; and such an impression did his sermon make on
the minds of his hearers, that many of the most wicked men in the
country became converts to the truth of the gospel.
A short time after this, Mr. Wishart received intelligence that the
plague had broken out in Dundee. It began four days after he was
prohibited from preaching there, and raged so extremely, that incre-
dible numbers died in the space of twenty-four hours. This being re-
lated to him, he, notwithstanding the persuasions of his friends, de-
termined to go thither, saying, " They are now in trouble, and need
comfort. Perhaps this hand of God will make them now to magnify
and reverence the word of God, which before they lightly esteemed."
Here he was with joy received by the godly. He chose the East-
gate for the place of his preaching ; so that the healthy were within,
and the sick without the gate. He took his text from these Avords,
" He sent his word and healed them," &-c. In this sermon he chiefly
dwelt upon the advantage and comfort of God's word, the judgments
that ensue upon the contempt or rejection of it, the freedom of God's
grace to all his people, and the happiness of those of his elect, whom
he takes to himself out of this miserable world. The hearts of his
hearers were so raised by the divine force of this discourse, as not to
regard death, but to judge them the more happy who should then be
called, not knowing whether they might have such a comforter again
with them.
After this the plague abated ; though, in the midst of it, "Wishart
constantly visited those that lay in the greatest extremity, and com
forled them by his exhortations.
When he took his leave of the people of Dundee, he said, " That
God had almost put an end to that plague, and that he was now called
to another place."
He went from thence to Montrose, Avhere he sometimes preached,
but spent most of his time in private meditation and prayer.
It is said, that before he left Dundee, and while he was engaged in
the labours of love to the bodies, as well as to the souls, of those poor
afl^licted people, Caixlinal Beaton engaged a desperate popish priest,
called John Weighton, to kill him ; the attempt to execute which was
r.s follows : One day, after Wishart had finishf d his sermon, and the
■people departed, the priest stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs,
with a naked dagger in his hand under his gown. But Mr. Wishart,
having a sharp, piercing eye, and seeing the priest as he came from
the pulpit, said to him, " My friend, what would you have ?" And
Tfimediately clapping his hand upon the dagger, took it from hini.
PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 271
The priest, being terrified, fell on his knees, confessed his intention,
and craved pardon. A noise being hereupon raised, and it coming to
the ears of those who were sick, they cried, " Deliver the traitor to
us, we will take him by force ;" and they burst in at the gate. But
Wishart, taking the priest in his arms, said, " Whatsoever hurts him,
shall hurt me ; for he hath done me no mischief, but much good, b^
teaching me more heedfulness for the time to come." By this con-
duct he appeased the people, and saved the life of the wicked priest.
Soon after his return to Montrose, the cardinal again conspired his
death, causing a letter to be sent to him as if it had been from his
familiar friend, the laird of Kinnier, in which he was desired, with all
possible speed, to come to him, because he was taken with a sudden
sickness. In the mean time, the cardinal had provided sixty armed
men, to lie in wait within a mile and a half of Montrose, in order to
murder him as he passed that way.
The letter coming to Wishart's hand by a boy, who also brought
him a horse for the journey, Wishart, accompanied by some of his
friends, set forward ; but something particular striking his mind by
the way, he returned back, which they wondering at, asked him the
cause ; to whom he said, " I will not go ; I am forbidden of God ; I
am assured there is treason. Let some of you go to yonder place,
and tell me what you find." They accordingly went, discovered the
assassins, and, hastily returning, they told Mr. Wishart ; whereupon
he said, " I know I shall end my life by that blood-thirsty man's
hands, but it Avill not be in this manner."
A short time after this he left Montrose, and proceeded to Edin-
burgh, in order to propagate the gospel in that city. By the way he
lodged with a faithful brother, called James Watson, of Inner Gouiy.
In the middle of the night he got up, and went into the yard, which
two men hearing, they privately followed him.
While in the yard, he fell on his knees, and prayed for some time
with the greatest fervency ; after which he arose, and returned to his
bed. Those who attended him, appearing as though they were igno-
rant of all, came and asked him where he had been ? But he would
not answer them. The next day they importuned him to tell them,
saying, " Be plain with us, for we heard your mourning, and saw
your gestures."
On this, he, with a dejected countenance, said, " I had rather you
had been in your beds." But they still pressing upon him to know
something, he said, " I will tell you ; I am assured that my warfare is
near at an end, and therefore pray to God with me, that I shrink not
Avhen the battle waxelh most hot." When they heard this they wept,
saying, " This is small comfort to us." " Then," said he, " God
.shall send you comfort after me. This realm shall be illuminated
with the light of Christ's gospel, as clearly as any realm since the
days of the apostles. The house of God shall be built in it; yea, it
shall not lack, in despite of all enemies, the top stone ; neither will it
be long before this be accomplished. Many shall not sufier after me,
before the glory of God shall appear, and triumph in despite of Satan.
But, alas, if the people afterwards shall prove unthankful, then fear-
ful and terrible will be the plagues that shall follow."
The next day he proceeded on his journey, and Avhen he arrived at
Leith, not meeting with those he expected, he kept himself retired for
272 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
a day or two. He then grew pensive, and being asked the reason, he
answered, " What do I difler from a dead man? Hitherto God hath
used my labours for the instruction of others, and to the disclosing oi
darkness ; and now I kirk as a man ashamed to show his face." His
friends perceived that his desire was to preach, whereupon they said
to him, " It is most comfortable for us to hear you, but because we
know the danger wherein you stand, we dare not desire it." He re
plied, " If you dare hear, let God provide for me as best pleaseth
him;" after which it was concluded, that the next day he should
preach in Leith. His text was from the parable of the sower, Matt,
xiii. The sermon ended, the gentlemen of Lothian, who were ear-
nest professors of Jesus Christ, would not suffer him to stay at Leith,
because the governor and cardinal were shortly to come to Edinburgh;
but took him along with them; and he preached at Branstone, Long-
niddry and Ormistone. He also preached at Inveresk, near Musel-
burg : he had a great concourse of people, .and amongst them Sir
George Douglas, who after sermon said publicly, " I know that the
governor and cardinal will hear that I have been at this sermon; but
let them know that I will avow it, and will maintain both the doctrine
and the preacher, to the uttermost of my power."
Among others that came to hear him preach, there were two gray-
friars, who, standing at the church door, whispered to such as came in ;
which Wishart observing, said to the people, " I pray you make
room for these two men, it may be they come to learn ;" and turning
to them, he said, "Come near, for I assure you, you shall hear the
word of truth, which this day shall seal up to you either your salvation
or damnation ;" after which he proceeded in his sermon, supposing
that they would be quiet ; but when he perceived that they still con-
tinued to disturb the people wiio stood near them, he said to them the
second time, with an angry countenance, " O ministers of Satan, and
deceivers of the souls of men, will ye neither hear God's truth your-
selves, nor suffer others to hear it ? Depart, and take this for your
portion ; God shaH shortly confound and disclose your hypocrisy
within this kingdom ; ye shall be abominable to men, and your places
and habitations shall be desolate." He spoke this with much vehe-
mency ; then turning to the people, said, "These men have provoked
the spirit of God to anger ;" after which he proceeded in his sermon,
highly to the satisfaction of his hearers.
From hence he went and preached at Branstone, Languedine, Or-
mistone, and Inveresk, where he was followed by a great concourse
of people. He preached also in inany other places, the people flock-
ing after him ; and in all his sermons he foretold the shortness of the
time he had to travel, and the near approach of his death. When he
came to Haddington, his auditory began much to decrease, which
Avas thought to happen through the influence of the earl of Bothwell,
who was moved to oppose him at the instigation of the cardinal.
Soon after this, as he was going to church, he received a letter from
the west country gentlemen, which having read, he called John Knox,
who had diligently waited on him since his arrival at Lothian ; to
whom he said, " He was weary of the world, because he saw that
men began to be weary of God : for," said he, " the gentlemen of
the west have sent me word, that they cannot keep their meeting ai
Edinburgh."
Knox, wonderinof he should enter into conference about thesf
PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 273
Slings, immediately before his sermon, contrary to his usual custom,
said to him, " Sir, sermon time approaches; I will leave you for the
present to your meditations."
Wishart's sad countenance declared the grief of his mind. At
length he went into the pulpit, and his auditory being very small, he
introduced his sermon with the following exclamation : " O Lord !
how long shall it be, that thy holy word shall be despised, and men
shall not regard their own salvation? I have heard of thee, O Had-
dington, that in thee there used to be two or three thousand persons
at a vain and wicked play ; and now, to hear the inessenger of the
eternal God, of all the parish, can scarce be numbered one hundred
present. Sore and fearful shall be the plagues that shall ensue upon
this thy contempt. With lire and sword shalt thou be plagued; yea,
thou Haddington in special, strangers shall possess thee ; and ye, the
present inhabitants, shall either in bondage serve your enemies, or
else ye shall be chased from your own habitations ; and that because
ye have not known, nar will know, the time of your visitation."
This prediction was, in a great measure, accomplished not long af-
ter, when the English took Haddington, made it a garrison, and forced
many of the inhabitants to flee. Soon after this, a dreadful plague
broke out in the town, of which such numbers died, that the place be-
came almost depopulated.
Cardinal Beaton, being informed that Wishart was at the house of
Mr. Cockburn of Ormiston, in East-Lothian, applied to the regent to
cause him to be apprehended; with which, after great persuasion,
and much against his will, he complied.
The earl accordingly went, with proper attendants to the house of
Mr. Cockburn, which he beset about midnight. The master of the
house, being greatly alarmed, put himself in a posture of defence,
when the earl told him that it was in vain to resist, for the governor
and cardinal were within a mile, Avith a great power ; but if he wouhV
deliver Wishart to him, he would promise, upon his honour, that n
should be safe, and that the cardinal should not hurt him. Wishai
said, "Open the gates, the will of God be done;" and Bothwell
coming in, Wisha^-t said to him, "I praise my God, that so honourable
a man as you, my lord, receive me this night; for I am persuaded that
for your honour's sake you will sufl^er nothing be done to me but by
order of law : I less fear to die openly, than secretly to be murdered."
Bothwell replied, " I will not only preserve your body from all vio-
lence that shall be intended against you without order of law; but I
also promise, in the presence of these gentlemen, that neither the go-
vernor nor cardinal shall have their will of you ; but I will keep you
in my own house, till I either set you free, or restore you to the same
place where I receive you." Then said Mr. Cockburn, " My lord, if
you make good your promise, which we presume you will, we our-
selves will not only serve you, but we will procure all the professors
in Lothian to do the same."
This agreement being made, Mr. Wishart was delivered into the
hands of the earl, who immediately conducted him to Edinburgh.
As soon as the earl arrived at that place, he was sent for by the
queen, who being an inveterate enemy lo Wishart, prevailed on the
earl (notwithstanding the promises he had made) to commit him a
prisoner to the castle.
274 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Tlie cardinal being informed of Wishart's situation, went to Edin
burgh, and immediately caused him to be removed from thence to the
castle of St. Andrew's.
Tlie inveterate ami persecuting prelate, having now got our martyi
fully at his own disposal, resolved to proceed immediately to try him
as a heretic: for which purpose he assembled the prelates at St. An-
drew's church, on the 27th of February, 1546.
At this meeting, the archbishop of Glasgow gave it as his opinion,
that application should be made to the regent, to grant a commission
to some noblemen to try the prisoner, that all the odium of putting so
popular a man to death might not lie on the clergy.
To this the cardinal readily agreed; but upon sending to the re-
gent, he received the following answer : " that he would do well
not to precipitate this man's trial, but delay it until his coming; foi
as to himself, he would not consent to his death before the cause was
very well examined ; and if the cardinal should do otherwise, he
would make protestation, that the blood of this man should be re-
quired at his liands."
The cardinal was extremely chagrined at this message from the re-
gent ; however, he determined to proceed in the bloody business he
had undertaken ; and therefore sent the regent word, " That he had
not written to him about this matter, as supposing himself to be any
way dependant upon his authority, but from a desire that the prose-
cution and conviction of heretics might have a show of public consent •
which, since he could not this way obtain, he would proceed in thai
way which to him appeared the most proper."
In consequence of this, the cardinal immediately proceeded to the
trial of Wishart, against whom no less than eighteen articles were
exhibited, which were, in substance, as follows :
Tliat he had despised the "holy mother-church;" had deceived
the people ; had ridiculed the mass ; had preached against the sacra-
ments, saying that there were not seven, but two only, viz. baptism
and the supper of tlie Lord ; had preached against confession to a
priest ; had denied transubstantiation and the necessity of extreme
unction ; v/ould not admit the authority of the pope or the conncik ;
allowed the eating of flesh on Friday ; condemned prayers to saints;
spoke against the vows of monks, &c. saying, that " whoever was
bound to such vows, had vowed themselves to the state of damnation,
and that it was lawful for priests to marry ;" that he had said, " it
was in vain to build costly churches to the honour of God, seeing that
he remained not in churches made with men's hands : nor yet could
God be in so small a space as between the priest's hands ;" — and,
finally, that he had avowed his disbelief of purgatory, and had said,
" the soul of man should sleep till the last day, and should not obtain
immortal life till that time."
Mr. Wishart answered these respective articles with great com-
posure of mind, and in so learned and clear a manner, as greatly
surprised most of those who were present.
A bigoted priest, named Lauder, at the instigation of the arch-
bishop, not only heaped a load of curses on him, but treated him with
the most barbarous contempt, calling him " runagate, false heretic,
traitor, and thief;" and not satisfied with that, spit in his face, and
otherwise maltreated him.
PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 275
* 0», this, Mr. Wishart fell on his knees, and after making a prayer
»i- Oocl, thus addressed his judges :
" Many and horrible sayings unto me a Christian man, many words
abominable to hear, have ye spoken here this day ; which not only
to teach, but even to think, I ever thought a great abomination."
After the examination was finished, the archbishop endeavoured
to prevail on Mr. Wishart to recant; but he was too firmly fixed in
his religious principles, and too much enliglitend with the truth of
the gospel, to be in the least moved.
In consequence of this, the archbishop pronounced on him the
dreadful sentence of death, which he ordered should be put into exe-
cution on the following day.
As soon as this cruel and melancholy ceremony was finished, our
martyr fell on his knees, and thus exclaimed :
" O immortal God, how long wilt thou sufl!er the rage, and great
cruelty of the imgodly, to exercise their fury upon thy servants, which
do further thy word in this world ? Whereas they, on the contrary,
seek to destroy the truth, whereby thou hast revealed thyself to the
world. O Lord, we know certainly that thy true servants must needs
sufler, for thy name's sake, persecutions, afflictions, and troubles, in
this present world ; yet we desire, that thou wouldest preserve and
defend thy church, which thou hast chosen before the foundation of
the world, and give thy people grace to hear thy word, and to be thy
true servants in this present life."
Having said this, he arose, and was immediately conducted by the
ofllicers to the prison from whence he had been brought, in the
castle.
In the evening he was visited by two friars, who told him he must
make his confession to them ; to whom he replied, " I will not make
any confession to you ;" on which they immediately departed.
Soon after this came the sub-prioi-, with whom Wishart conversed
in so feeling a manner on religious matters, as to make him weep.
When this man left Wishart, he went to the cardinal, and told him, he
came not to intercede for the prisoner's life, but to make known his
innocence to all men. At these words, the cardinal expressed great
dissatisfaction, and forbid the sub-prior from again visiting Wishart.
Towards the close of the evening, our martyr was visited by the
captain of the castle, with several of his friends ; who bringing with
them some bread and wine, asked him if he would eat and drink with
them. "Yes," said Wishart, " very Avilhngly, for I know you are
honest men." In the mean time he desired them to hear him a little,
when he discoursed with them on the Lord's Supper, his sufferings,
and death for us, exhorting them to love one another, and to lay aside
all rancour and malice, as became the members of Jesus Christ, who
continually interceded for them with his Father. After this he gave
.hanks to God, and blessing the bread and wine, he took the bread
and brake it, giving some to each, saying, at the same time, " Eat
this, remember that Christ died for us, and feed on it spiritually."
Then taking the cup, he drank, and bade them " remember that
Christ's blood was shed for them." After this he gave thanks, prayed
for some time, took leave of his visiters, and retired to his chamber.
On the morning of his execution, there came to him two friars from
the cardinal ; one of whom put on him a black linen coat, and the
276 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
other brought several bags of gunpowder, which they tied about dif-
ferent parts of his body.
In this dress he was conducted from the room in which he had been
confined, to the outer chamber of the governor's apartments, there
to stay till the necessary preparations Avere made for his execution.
The windows and balconies of the castle, opposite the place where
he was to suffer, were all hung with tapestry and silk hangings, with
cushions for the cardinal and his train, who were from thence to feast
their eyes with the torments of this innocent man. There was also
a large guard of soldiers, not so much to secure the execution, as to
show a vain ostentation of power ; besides which, cannon were placed
on different parts of the castle.
All the preparations being completed,' Wishart, after having his
hands tied behind him, was conducted to the fatal spot. In his way
thither he was accosted by two friars, who desired him to pray to the
Virgin Mary to intercede for him. To whom he meekly said, " cease ;
tempt me not, I entreat you."
As soon as he arrived at the stake, the executioner put a rope
around his neck, and a chain about his middle ; upon which he fell on
his knees, and thus exclaimed :
" O thou Saviour of the world, have mercy upon me ! Father of
heaven, I commend my spirit into thy holy hands."
After repeating these words three times, he arose, and turning him-
self to the spectators, addressed them as follows :
" Christian brethren and sisters, I beseech you, be not offended at
the word of God for the torments which you see prepared for me ;
but I exhort you, that ye love the word of God for your salvation,
and suffer patiently, and with a comfortable heart, for the word's
sake, which is your undoubted salvation, and everlasting comfort.
I pray you also, show my brethren and sisters, who have often heard
me, that they cease not to learn the word of God, which I taught
them according to the measure of grace given me, but to hold fast to
it with the strictest attention ; and show them, that the doctrine was
no old wives' fables, but the truth of God ; for if I had taught men's
doctrine, I should have had greater thanks from men : but for the word
of God's sake I now suffer, not sorrowfully, but with a glad heart
and mind. For this cause I was sent, that I should suffer this fire
for Christ's sake ; behold my face, you shall not see me change my
countenance ; I fear not the fire ; and if persecution come to you for
the word's sake, I pray you fear not them that can kill the body, and
have no power to hurt the soul."
After this, he prayed for his accusers, saying, " I beseech thee.
Father of heaven, forgive them that have, from ignorance, or an evil
mind, forged lies of me : I forgive them with all my heart. I beseech
Christ to forgive them, that have ignorantly condemned me."
Then, again turning himself to the spectators, he said, " I beseech
you, brethren, exhort your prelates to learn the word of God, that
they may be ashamed to do evil, and learn to do good ; or there will
come upon them the wrath of God, which they shall not eschew."
As soon as he had finished this speech, the executioner fell on his
knee? before him, and said, " Sir, I pray you forgive me, for I am
not th ^ cause of your death."
In return to this, Wishart cordially took the man by the hand, and
PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 277
kissed him, saying, " Lo, here is a token that I forgive thee ; mv
heart, do thine office."
He was then fastened to the stake, and the faggots being lighted,
immediately set fire to the powder that was tied about him, and which
blew into a flame and smoke.
The governor of the castle, who stood so near that he was singed
with the flame, exhorted our martyr, in a few words, to be of good
cheer, and to ask pardon of God for his oflences. To which he re
plied, " This flame occasions trouble to my body, indeed, but it hath
in no wise broken my spirit. But he who now so proudly looks aown
upon me from yonder lofty place," pointing to the cardinal, " shall,
ere long, be as ignominiously thrown down, as now he proudly lolls
at his ease."
When he had said this, the executioner pulled the rope which was
tied about his neck with great violence, so that he was soon strangled ;
and the fire getting strength burnt with such rapidity that in less than
an hour his body was totally consumed.
Thus died, in confirmation of the gospel of Christ, a sincere be-
liever, whose fortitude and constancy, during his sufferings, can only
be imputed to the support of divine aid, in order to fulfil that memo-
rable promise, " As is thy day, so shall thy strength be also."
Cardinal Beaton put to Death.
The prediction of Mr. Wishart, concerning Cardinal Beaton, is re-
lated by Buchanan, and others ; but it has been doubted, by some
later writers, whether he really made such prediction or not. Be
that as it may, it is certain, that the death of Wishart did, in a short
time after, prove f;ital to the cardinal himself; the particulars of
which we subjoin.
Soon after the death of Mr. Wishart, the cardinal went to Finha-
ven, the seat of the earl of Crawford, to solemnize a marriage be-
tween the eldest son of that nobleman, and his ov/n natural daughter,
Margaret. While he was thus employed, he received intelligence
that an English squadron was upon the coast, and that consequently
an invasion was to be feared. Upon this he immediately returned to
St. Andrew's, and appointed a day for the nobility and gentry to meet,
and consult what was proper to be done on this occasion. But as no
farther news was heard of the English fleet, their apprehensions of
an invasion soon subsided.
In the mean time Norman Lesley, eldest son of the earl of Rothes,
who had been treated by the cardinal with injustice and contempt,
formed a design, in conjunction with his uncle John Lesley, who
hated Beaton, and others who were inflamed against him on account
of his persecution of the protestants, the death of Wishart, and otiier
causes, to assassinate the prelate, though he now resided in the castle
of St. Andrews, which he was fortifying at great expense, and had,
in the opinion of that age, already rendered almost impregnable.
The cardinal's retinue was numerous, the town was at his devotion,
and the neighbouring country full of his dependants. However, the
conspirators, who were in number only sixteen, having concerted
their plan, met together early in the morning, on Saturday the 30th
of May. The first thing they did, was to seize the porter of the
castle, from whom they took the keys, and secured the gate. They
27.S BOOK OF MARTYRS.
then sent four of their party to watch the cardinal's chamber, that h(!
might liave no notice given him of what was doing ; after which they
went and called up the servants and attendants, to whom they were
well known, and turned them out of the gate, to the number of fifty,
as they did also upwards of a hundred workmen, who were employed
in the fortifications and buildings of the castle ; but the eldest son of
the regent, (whom the cardinal kept with him, under pretence of su-
perintending his education, but in reality as a hostage,) they kept for
their own security.
All this was done with so little noise, that the cardinal was not
waked till they knocked at nis chamber door ; upon Avhich he cried
out, " Who is there ?" John Lesley answered, "My name is Les-
ley." " Which Lesley ?" inquired tlie cardinal ; " is it Norman ?" It
was answered, that he must open the door to those who were there ;
but instead of this he barricaded it in the best manner he could. How-
ever, finding that they had brought fire in order to force their way,
and they having, as it is said by some, made him a promise of his life,
he opened the door. They immediately entered with their swords
drawn, and John Lesley smote him twice or thrice, as did also Peter
Carmichael ; but James Melvil, (as Mr. Knox relates the affair,) per-
ceiving them to be in choler, said, " This work, and judgment of
God, although it be secret, ought to be done with greater gravity ;"
and presenting the point of his sword to the cardinal, said to him,
" Repent thee of thy wicked life, but especially of the shedding of the
blood of that notable instrument of God, Mr. George Wishart, which
albeit the flame of fire consumed before men, yet cries it for ven-
geance upon thee ; and we from God are sent to revenge it. For here,
before my God, I protest, that neither the hatred of thy person, the
love of thy riches, nor the fear of any trouble thou couldst have done
to me in particular, moved or moveth me to strike thee ; but only be-
cause thou hast been, and remainest, an obstinate enemy of Christ
Jesus, and his holy gospel." Having said this, he, with his sword,
run the cardinal twice or thrice through the body ; who only said, "I
am a priest! Fie! fie! all is gone?" and then expired, being about
fifty-two years of age.
Thus fell Cardinal Beaton, who had been as great a persecutor
against the protestants in Scotland, as Bonner was in England ; and
whose death was as little regretted by all true professors of Christ's
gospel.
The character of this distinguished tyrant is thus given by a cele-
brated writer :
" Cardinal Beaton had not used his power with moderation equal to
the prudence by which he obtained it. Notwithstanding his great
abilitie3, he had too many of the passions and prejudices of an angry
leader of a faction, to govern a divided people with temper. His re-
sentment against one part of the nobility, his insolence towards the
rest, his severity to the reformers, and, above all, the barbarous and
illegal execution of the famous George Wishart, a man of honourable
birth, and of primitive sanctity, wore out the patience of a fierce age,
and nothing but a bold hand was wanting, to gratify the public wish
by his destruction."
The death of Cardinal Beaton, for a short time, gave new spirits to
the reformed in all parts of Scotland ; but their pleasing expectations
PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 079
were damped, when they discovered the disposition of his successor,
John Painilton, who was no less a rigid papist, and violent persecutor
of the protestants, than his predecessor.
The history of this man's proceedings, our limits will not allow us
to record. Many who favoured the reformed doctrine were imprison-
ed by him ; others were banished, and some siifTcred death. We have
room to notice only the history of "Walter Mille.
Martyrdom of Walter Mille.
The last person who suffered martyrdom in Scotland, for the cause
of Christ, was one Walter Mille, who was burnt at Edinburgh in the
year 1558.
This person, in his younger years, had travelled into Germany,
and on his return was installed a priest of the church of Lunan in
Angus ; but, on an information of heresy against him, in the time of
Cardinal Beaton, he was forced to abandon his charge, and abscond.
After the death of that prelate he returned, not knowing the perse-
cuting spirit of his successor. Being well known by several bigoted
papists in the neighbourhood, they accused him of heresy ; in conse-
quence of which he was apprehended, and committed to prison.
A few days, after he was brought before the archbishop and his
suffragans, in order to be examined relative to his religious opinions ;
when Sir Andrew Oliphant, by order of the archbishop, interrogated
him as follows :
Oliphant. What think you of priest's marriage?
Mille. I hold it a blessed band : for Clirist himself maintained it,
artd approved the same, and also made it free to all men ; but you
think it not free to you ; ye abhor it, and in the mean time take other
men's wives and daughters, and will not keep the band God hath
made. Ye vow chastity, and break the same. Tlie Apostle Paul
had rather marry than burn ; the which I have done, for God never
forbade marriage to any man, what state or degree soever he were.
Oliphant. Thou sayest there be not seven sacraments.
Mille. Give me the Lord's supper, and baptism, and take you the
rest, and part them among you. For if there be seven, v hy have
you omitted one of them, to wit, marriage, and given yourself to
whoredom ?
Oliphant. Thou art against the blessed sacrament of the altar, and
sayest that the mass is wrong, and is idolatry.
Mille. A lord or a king sendeth and calleth many to a dinner, and
Avhen the dinner is in readiness, he causeth to ring a bell, and the men
come to the hall, and sit down to be partakers of the dinner, but the
lord, turning his back unto them, eateth all himself, and mocketh
them ; so do ye.
Oliphant. Thou deniest the sacrament of the altar to be the very
body of Christ really in flesh and blood.
Mille. The scripture of God is not to be taken carnally, but spi-
ritually, and standeth in faith only; and as for the mass, it is wrong,
for Christ was once offered on the cross for man's trespass, and will
never be oflered again, for then he ended all sacrifices.
Oliphant. Thou deniest the office of al)ishop.
Mille. I affirm that they, whom ye call bishops, do no bishops'
works ; nor use the office of bishop, as Paul biddeth, writing to Tiroo-
2SU BOOK OF MARTYRS.
ihy. but live after their own sensual pleasure, and take no care of the
flock ; nor yet regard they the word of God, but desire to be honoured
and called my lords.
Oliphant. Thou spakcst against pilgrimage, and calledst it a pil
grimage to whoredom.
Mille. 1 affirm and say, that it is not commanded in the scripture,
and that there is no greater whoredom in any place, than at your pil-
grimages, except it be in common brothels.
Oliphan* Thou preachedst secretly and privately in houses, and
openly in the fields.
Mille. Yea, man, and on the sea also, sailing in a ship.
Oliphant. Wilt thou not recant thy erroneous opinions? and if thou
wilt not, I will pronounce sentence against thee.
Mille. I am accused of my life ; I know I must die once, and
therefore, as Christ said to Judas, quod facis fac citius. Ye shall
know that I will not recant the truth, for I am corn, I am no chaff; I
will not be blown away with the wind, nor burst Avith the flail ; but I
will abide both.
In consequence of this, sentence of condemnation was immediately
passed on him, and he was conducted to prison in order for execution
the following day.
This steadfast believer in Christ was eighty-two years of age, and
very infirm ; from whence it was supposed, that he could scarcely be
heard. However, when he was led to the place of execution, he ex-
pressed his religious sentiments with such courage, and at the same
time composure of mind, as astonished even his enemies. As soon
as he was fastened to the stake, and the fagots lighted, he addressed
the spectators as follows :
" The cause why I suffer this day is not for any crime, (though I
iicknowledge myself a miserable sinner,) but only for the defence of
the truth as it is in Jesus Christ ; and I praise God who hath called
me, by his mercy, to seal the truth with my life ; Avhich, as I received
it from him, so 1 willingly offer it up to his glory. Therefore, as you
would escape eternal death, be no longer seduced by the lies of the
seat of antichrist ; but depend solely on Jesus Christ, and his mercy,
that you may be delivered from condemnation." He then added,
•' That he trusted he should be the last who would suffer death in
Scotland upon a religious account."
Thus did this pious Christian cheerfully give up his life, in defence
of the truth of Christ's gospel, not doubting but he should be made a
partaker of his heavenly kingdom.
The people were so grieved at the death of this good man, that, as
a monument of it to future ages, they raised a pile of stones on the
spot where he suffered. This, however, was removed by order of the
popish clergy, but replaced again by the people several times, till at
length a guard was appointed to apprehend all persons who should
carry stones to that place.
It is remarkable that from the univerral esteem in Avhich this man
was held by the people, a cord could not be found to tie him with after
his condemnation ; and on that very account his execution was post-
poned until the r-ext morning, when they were reduced to the neces-
sity of using the cords belonging to the archbishop's paviHon.
The death of Walter Mille proved the overthrow of popery in Scot
PERSECUTIONS IN SCOTLAND. 281
land. The clergy were so sensible that their affairs were fulling to
decay, that they, from that time, never dared to proceed to a capital
punishment, on account of religion ; insomuch, that in the synod held
in Edinburgh, in July this year, 1558, some persons who had been
impeached of heresy were only condemned, upon their non-appear-
ance, to make a public recantation at the market-cross of that city, on
the 1st of September following, being St. Giles's day, the tutelar saint
of that place.
It was usual, at the feast of this saint, which now nearly approached,
to carry his image in procession through the town, and the queen re-
gent was to honour the solemnity with her presence. But when the
time was come, the image was missing : it having been stolen from
its station, by some who were too wise to pray to it.
This caused a halt to be made, till another image was borrowed
from the Gray-friars, with which they set forward ; and after the
queen had accompanied them a considerable way, she withdrew into
the castle, where she was to dine. But no sooner was she gone, than
some persons who had been purposely appointed, tore the picture
from off the shoulders of those who carried it, threw it into the dirt,
and totally destroyed it.
This gave such universal satisfaction to the people, that a general
shout ensued, and a riot continued in the street during some hours ;
which was at length suppressed by the vigilance of the magistrates.
About the same time a great disturbance happened at Perth, the
circumstances attending which were as follows ; a celebrated reformist
minister having preached to a numerous congregation, after sermon
Avas over, some godly persons remained in the church, Avhen a priest
was so imprudent as to open a case, in which was curiously engraved
the figures of many saints ; after which he made preparations for say-
ing mass. A young man observing this, said aloud, " This is intole-
rable ! As God plainly condemns, in scripture, idolatry, shall we stand
and see such an insult?" The priest was so offended at this, that he
struck the youth a violent blow on the head, on which he broke one
of the figures in the case, when immediately all the people fell on the
priest and destroyed every thing in the church that tended to idolatry.
This being soon known abroad, the people assembled in large bodies,
and proceeded to the monasteries of the Gray and Black Friars, both
of which they stripped ; and then pulled down the house of the Car-
thusians ; so that in the space of two days nothing remained of those
noble buildings but the bare walls. The like kind of outrages were
committed in many other towns in the kingdom.
At this time there were many persons who made it their business
to solicit subscriptions in order to carry on the work of reformation,
and to abolish popery. Among these v.cre several of the nobility,
particularly the earl of Argyle, the Lord James Stewart, the earl of
G/encairn, &c.
The endeavours of these noble reformists were attended with such
success, that they at length effected a complete reformation in the
kingdom ; though they met with many obstacles from their inveterate
enemies the papists.
282 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
BOOK IX.
FROORESS OF THE REFORMATION IN THE REIGN OF EDWARD VI.
Edward was the only son of King Henry, by his beloved wife.
Jane Seymour, who died the day after his birth, which took place od
the 12th of October, 1537, so that, when he came to the throne, in
1547, he was but ten years old.
At six years of age he was put into the hands of Dr. Cox and Mr.
Chcke i the one was to form his mind, and teach him philosophy and
divinity ; the other to teach him languages and mathematics ; other
masters were also appointed for the various parts of his education.
He discovered very early a good disposition to religion and virtue,
and a particular reverence for the scriptures; and was once greatly
offended with a person, who, in order to reach something hastily, laid
a great Bible on the floor, and stood upon it. He made great progress
in learning, and at the age of eight years, wrote Latin letters fre-
quently both to the king, to Queen Catherine Parr, to the archbishop
of Canterbuiy, and his uncle, the earl of Hertford.
Upon his father's decease, the earl of Hertford and Sir Anthony
Brown were sent to bring him to the tower of London ; and when
Henry's death was published, he was proclaimed king.
The education of Edward, having been entrusted to protestants,
and Hertford, afterwards created duke of Somerset, being appointed
protector, and favouring the reformation, that cause greatly advanced;
notwithstanding the opposition of some in power, among whom were
Gardiner, Bonner, Touslatt, and, above all, the Lady Mary, the next
heir to the throne.
Under the auspices of the young king, Cranmer determined to pro-
ceed more vigorously in the work of reformation. Accordingly, as
a beginning, a general visitation of all the churches in England was
resolved upon. The visiters were accompanied by preachers, who
were to justify their conduct, and to reason away existing supersti-
tions.
The only thing by which the people could be universally instruct-
ed, was a book of homilies : therefore the twelve first homilies in the
book, still known by that name, were compiled. The chief design of
these homilies was to instruct the people as to the nature of the gos-
pel covenant.
About the same time, orders were given to place a Bible in every
church ; which, though it had been commanded by Henry, had not
been generally complied with. This was accompanied by Erasmus'
paraphrase of the New Testament. The great reputation of that
learned man, and his dying in the communion of the Roman church,
rendered his paraphrase preferable to any other work then extant.
Injunctions, also, were added for removing images, and abolishing
customs which engendered superstition. The scriptures were to be
read more frequently in public, preacliing and cntcc.hising were also
to be more frequent, and the clergy were to be exhorted to be more
exemplary in their lives.
Next, the Liturgy Avas revised, and the marriage of the priests
agreed to. Acts were passed by parliament in aid of the views and
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 283
proceedings of the reformers. The new liturgy was generally intro-
duced, and to great numbers proved highly acceptable. The prin-
cess Mary, however, steadfastly refused it, and continued to hear
mass in her chapel.
The greater number of the bishops were now friends of the re-
formation. It was thought, therefore, to be a convenient time to
settle the doctrine of the church. Accordingly, a body of articles was
framed by the bishops and clergy. These articles were forty-tv»^o in
number. In Elizabeth's reign they were reduced to thirty-nine, and
have been continued from that day to the present to be the acknow-
ledged creed of the church of England.
The reformers next proceeded to revise anew the lately published
book of common prayer. In the daily service they added the confes-
sion and absolution ; " that so the worship of God might begin with
a grave and humble confession ; after which a solemn declaration of
the mercy of God, according to the terms of the gospel," was to be
pronounced by the priest. At the same time all popish customs were
finally abolished. The liturgy, as now established, with the excep-
tion of a few trifling alterations, made under Elizabeth, assumed its
present appearance.
While the reformation was thus proceeding, and was likely, under
providence, to terminate in an abandonment of every vestige of the
Roman superstition, the pi-ospects of the reformers were suddenly
overcast by the afflicting illness and death of the young king.
He had contracted great colds by violent exercises, which, in Janu-
ary, settled into so obstinate a cough that all the skill of physicians,
and the aid of medicine, proved ineflectual. There was a suspicion
over all Europe, that he was poisoned ; but no certain grounds ap-
pear for justifying it.
During his sickness, Riclley preached before him, and among other
things spoke much on works of charity, and the duty of men of high
condition, to be eminent in good works. The king was much touched
with this ; and after the sermon, he sent for the bishop, and treated
him with such respect that he made him sit down and be covered : he
then told him what impression his exhortation had made^on him, and
therefore he desired to be directed by him how to do his duty in that
matter.
Ridley took a little time to consider of it, and after some consulta-
tion with the lord mayor and aldermen of London, he brought the
king a scheme of several foundations ; one for the sick and wounded ,
another for such as were wilfully idle, or were mad ; and a third for
orphans. Edward, acting on this suggestion, endowed St. Bartholo-
mew's hospital for the first. Bridewell for ihe second, and Christ's
hospital, near Newgate, for the third ; and he enlarged the grant
which he had made the year before, for St. Thomas's hospital, in
Southwark. The statutes and warrants relating to these were not
finished till the 26th of June, though he gave orders to make all the
haste that was possible: and when he set his hand to them, he blessed
God for having prolonged his life till he had finished his designs con-
cerning them. These houses have, by the good government and the
great charities of the city of London, continued to be so useful, and
grown to be so well endowed, that now they may be reckoned among
the noblest in Europe.
284 BOOK OP MARTYRS.
The king bore his sickness with great submission to the will ol
God, and seemed concerned in nothing somuchas the state that reli
gion and the church would be in after his death. The duke of Nor-
thumberland, who was at the head of aflairs, resolved to improve the
fears the king Avas in concerning religion, to the advantage of Lady
Jane Grey, who was married to his son, Lord Guilford Dudley. Ed-
ward was easily persuaded by him to order the judges to put some
articles, Avhich he had signed, for the succession of the crown, in the
common form of law. They answered, that the succession being
settled by act of parliament, could not be taken away, except by par-
liament ; yet the king persisted in his orders.
The judges then declared, before the council, that it had been made
treason by an act passed in this reign, to change the succession; so
that they could not meddle with it. Montague was chief justice, and
spake in the name of the rest.
On this, Northumberland fell into a violent passion, calling him
traitor, for refusing to obey the king's commands. But the judges
were not moved by his threats ; and they were again brought before
the king, who sharply rebuked them for their delays. They replied,
that all they could do would be of no force without a parliament; yet
they were required to perform it in the best manner they could.
At last Montague desired they might first have a pardon for what
they were to do, which being granted, all the judges, except Cosnaid
and Hales, agreed to the patent, and delivered their opinions, that the
lord chancellor might put the seal to the articles, drawn up by the
king, and that then they would be good in law. Cosnaid was at last
prevailed on to join in the same opinion, so that Hales, who was a
zealous protestant, was the only man who stood out to the last.
The privy counsellors were next required to sign the paper. Cecil,
in a relation he wrote of this transaction, says, that " hearing some
of the judges declare so positively that it was against law, he refused
to set his hand to it as a privy counsellor, but signed it only as a wit-
ness to the king's subscription."
Cranmer came to the council Avhen it was passed there, and refused
to consent to it, when he was pressed to it ; saying, " he would never
have a hand in disinheriting his late master's daughters." The dying
king, at last, by his importunity, prevailed with him to do it ; upon
which the great seal was put to the patents.
The king's distemper continued to increase, so that the physicians
despaired of his recovery. A confident woman undertook his cure,
and he was put into her hands, but she left him worse than she found
him ; and this heightened the jealousy against the duke of Northum
berland, who had introduced her, and dismissed the physicians. A
last, to crown his designs, he got the king to write to his sisters to
come and divert him in his sickness ; and the exclusion had been
conducted so secretly, that they, apprehending no danger, began their
journey.
On the 6th of July the king felt the approach of death, and prepared
himself for it in a most devout manner. He was often heard offer-
ing up prayers and ejaculations to God ; particularly a few moments
before he died he prayed earnestly that the Lord would take him
out of this wretched life, and committed his spirit to him ; he inter-
ceded very fervently for his subjects ihat God would preserve Eng-
PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 285
land from popery, and maintain his true religion am.ong them. Tlie
last Avords he uttered were these, " I am faint ; Lord have mercy upon
me, and take my spirit."
The death of so pious a prince — of one who had the reformation of
the church so much at heart, was, indeed, a mysterious Providence.
But God saw fit so to order circumstances, as to show more fully the
awful pride and intolerant spirit of the papacy. The cruel martyr-
doms to which we now proceed, form a tremendous comment on the
genius of popery. If it could give birth to such barbarities as the
reader will notice in the subsequent pages of this volume, and could
sanction them, and even to this day can justify them — can it have pro-
ceeded from the gospel of Him who proclaimed " peace on earth,
and good will to men ?"
BOOK X.
ACCESSION OF QUEEN MARY, SUBVERSION OF RELIGION, AND PERSE-
CUTIONS OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND, DURING HER REIGN.
It has been asserted by the Roman Catholics, " That all those who
suffered death, during the reign of Queen Mary, had been adjudged
guilty of high treason, in consequence of their rising in defence of
Lady Jane Grey's title to the crown." To disprove this, however, is
no difficult matter, since every one conversant in English history
must know, that those who are found guilty of high treason, are to be
hanged and quartered. But how can even a papist affirm, that ever
a man in England was burned for high treason ? We admit, that
some few suffered death in the ordinary way of process at common
law, for their adherence to Lady Jane ; but none of those were burned.
Why, if traitors, were they taken before the bishops, who have no
power to judge in criminal cases? Even allowing the bishops ' , have
had power to judge, yet their own bloody statute did not empower
them to execute. The proceedings against the martyrs are still ex-
tant, and they are carried on directly according to the forms pre-
scribed by their own statute. Not one of those who were burned in
England, was ever accused of high treason, much less were they tried
at common law. And this should teach the reader to value a history
of transactions in his own country, particularly as it relates to the
sufferings of the blessed martyrs in defence of the religion he pro-
fesses, in order that he may be able to remove the veil which falsehood
has cast over the face of truth. Having said thus much, by way of
introduction, we shall proceed with the acts and monuments of the
British martyrs.
By the death of King Edward, the crown devolved, according to
law, on his eldest sister Mary, who was within half a day's journey
to the court, when she had notice given her by the earl of Arundel, of
her brother's death, and of the patent for Lady Jane's succession.
Upon this she retired to Framlingham, in Suffolk, to be near the sea,
that she might escape to Flanders in case of necessity. Before she
arrived there, she wrote, on the 9th of July, to the council, telling
286 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
them, that " she understood that her brother was dead, by which she
succeeded to the crown, but wondered that she heard not from them ;
she well understood what consultations they had engaged in, but she
would pardon all such as would return to their duty, and proclaim her
title to the crown."
It was now found, that the king's death could be no longer kept a
secret ; accordingly some of the privy council Avent to Lady Jane, and
acknowledged her as their queen.* The news of the king's death
afflicted her much, and her being raised to the throne, rather increased
than lessened her trouble. She was a person of extraordinary abili-
ties, acquirements, and virtues. She was mistress both of the Greek
and Latin tongues, and delighted much in study. As she was not
tainted with the levities which usually accompany her age and sta-
tion, so she seemed to have attained to the practice of the highest for-
titude ; for in those sudden turns of her condition, as she was not ex-
alted with the prospect of a crown, so she was little cast down, when
her palace was made her prison. The only passion she showed, was
that of the noblest kind, in the concern she expressed for her father
and husband, who fell with her, and seemingly on her account ;
though, in reality, Northumberland's ambition, and her fatJier's weak-
ness, ruined her.
She rejec<ed the crown, when it was first offered her ; she said, she
knew that of right it belonged to the late king's sisters, and therefore
could not with a good conscience assume it; but she was told, that
both the judges and privy counsellors had declared, that it fell to her
according to law. This, joined with the importunities of her hus-
band, her father, and father-in-law, made her submit. — Upon this,
twenty-one privy counsellors set their hands to a letter to Mary, telling
her that Queen Jane was now their sovereign, and that as the mar-
riage between her father and mother had been declared null, so she
could not succeed to the crown ; ihey therefore required her to lay-
down her pretensions, and to submit to the settlement now made; and
if she gave a ready obedience, promised her much favour. The day
after this they proclaimed Jane.
Northumberland's known enmity to the late duke of Somerset, and
the suspicions of his being the author of Eduard's untimely death, be-
got a great aversion in the people to him and his family, and disposed
them to Hvour Mary; who, in the mean time, was very active in rais-
ing forces to support her claim. To attach the protestants to her
cause, she promised not to make any change in the reformed worship,
as established under her brother ; and on this assurance a large body
of the men of Suffolk joined her standard.
Northumberland was now perplexed between his wish to assume the
command of an army raised to oppose Mary, and his fear of leaving
London to the government of the council, of whose fidelity he enter-
tained great doubts. He was, however, at length obliged to adopt the
latter course, and before his departure from tlie metropolis, he adjured
the members of the council, and all persons in authority, to be stead-
fast in their attachment to the cause of Queen Jane, on whose suc-
♦ The Lady Jane was (daughter to the duke of SufToIk, and grand-daughter to Mary,
sister to FIcnry VIII. who, on- the death of her first husband, the king of France, mar-
ried Charles Brandon, afterwards created duke of SuffolL
ACCESSION OF MAKV. 287
cess, he assured them, depended the continuance of the protestant re-
ligion i.i England. They promised all he required, and he departed,
encouraged by their protestations and apparent zeal.
Mary's party in the mean time continued daily to augment. Hast-
ings went over to her with 4000 men out of Buckinghamshire, and
she was proclaimed queen in many places. At length the privy
council began to see their danger, and to think how to avoid it ; and
besides fears for their personal safety, other motives operated with
many of the members. To make their escape from the tower, where
they were detained, ostensibly to give dignity to the court of Queen
Jane, but really as prisoners, they pretended it was necessary to give
an audience to the foreign ambassadors, who would not meet them in
the tower; and the earl of Pembroke's house was appointed for the
audience.
"When they met there they resolved to declare for Queen Mary, and
rid themselves of Northumberland's yoke, which they knew they must
bear, if he were victorious. They sent for the lord mayor and alder-
men, and easily gained their concurrence ; and Mary was proclaimed
queen on the 19th of July. They then sent to the tower, requiring
the duke of Sufiblk to quit the governmiCnt of that place, and the Lady
Jane to lay down the title of queen. To this she submitted with much
greatness of mind, and her father with abjectness.
The council next sent orders to Northumberland to dismiss his
forces, and to obey the queen. When Northumberland heard this,
he disbanded his forces, went to the market-place at Cambridge, Avhere
he then was, and proclaimed Mary as queen. The earl of Arundel
was sent to apprehend him, and when Northumberland was brought
before him, he, in the most servile manner, fell at his feet to beg his
favour. He, with three of his sons, and Sir Thomas Palmer, (his
wicked tool in the destruction of the duke of Somerset,) were all sent
to the tower.
Every one now flocked to implore the queen's favour, and Ridley
among the rest, but he was committed to the tower ; the queen be-
ing resolved to put Bonner again in the see of London. Some of the
judges, and several noblemen, were also sent thither, among the rest
the duke of Suffolk ; who was, however, three days after set at liber-
ty. He was a weak man, could do little harm, and was consequently
selected as the first person towards whom the queen should exert ner
clemency.
Mary came to London on the 3d of August, and on the Avay was met
by her sister, Lady Elizabeth, with a thousand horse, whom she had
raised to assist the queen. On arriving at the tower, she liberated
the duke of Norfolk, the dutchess of Somerset, and Gardiner; also the
Lord Courtney, son to the marquis of Exeter, who had been kept there
ever since his father's attainder, and whom she now made earl of
Devonshire.
Thus was seated on the throne of England the Lady Mary, who, to
a disagreeable person and weak mind, united bigotry, superstition, and
cruelty. She seems to have inherited more of her mother's than her
father's qualities. Henry was impatient, rough, and ungovernable ;
but Catherine, while she assumed the character of a saint, harboured
inexorable rancour and hatred against the protestants. It was the
same with her daugiiiei M2ry. as appears from a letter in her own
288 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
handwriting, now in the British Museum. In this letter, which is a.l
dressed to Bishop Gardiner, she declares her fixed intention of burn
ing every protestant ; and there is an insinuation, that as soon as cir-
cumstances would permit, she would restore back to the church the
lands that had been taken from the convents. This was the greatest
instance of her weakness that she could show : for, in the first place,
the convents had been all demolished, except a few of their churches ;
and the rents were in the hands of the first nobility, who, rather than
part with them, Avould have overturned the government both in church
and state.
Mary was crowned at Westminster in the usual form ; but dreadful
were the consequences that followed. The narrowness of spirit
which always distinguishes a weak mind from one that has been en-
larged by education, pervaded all the actions of this princess. Un-
acquainted with the constitution of the country, and a slave to super
stition, she thought to domineer over the rights of private judgment,
and trample on the privileges of mankind.
The first exertion of her regal power was to wreak her vengeance
up(;n all those who had supported the title of Lady Jane Grey.
The first of these was the duke of Northumberland, who was be-
headed on Tower Hill, and who, in consequence of his crimes, arising
from ambition, died unpitied ; nay, he was even taunted on the scaf-
fold by the spectators, who knew in what manner he had acted to the
good duke of Somerset.
The other executions that followed were numerous indeed, but as
they were all upon the statute of high treason, they cannot, with anv
degree of propriety, be applied to protestants, or, as they were called,
heretics. The parliament was pliant enough to comply with all the
queen's requests, and an act passed to establish the popish religion.
This was what the queen waited for, and power being now put into
her hands, she was determined to exercise it in the most arbitrary
manner. She was destitute of human compassion, and without the
least reluctance could tyrannize over the consciences of men.
This leads us to the conclusion of the first year of her reign ; and
we consider it the more necessary to taJce notice of these transactions,
although not, strictly speaking, martyrdoms, that our readers might be
convinced of the great difl^erence there is between dying for religion,
and for high treason. It is history alone that can teach them such
things, and it is reflection only that can make history useful. We
frequently read without reflection, and study without consideration ;
hut the following portions of history, in particular, will furnish ample
materials for serious thought to our readers, and we entreat their atten-
tion to them.
SECTION I.
MARTYRDOMS IN THE SECOND YEAR OF QUEEN MARY's REION.
The queen having satiated her malice upon those persons who had
adhered to Lady Jane Grey, she had next recourse to those old auxi-
liaries of popery, fire, fagot, and the stake, i-n order to convert hef
heretical subjects to the trjie catholic faith.
Burning of Dr. B. Farrar. Page 315,
^^
M
tp-^M^M • " • • ■[
m
^^^^^^^^^m
^^t
^^^"^^m^^m^
^^g^^^^^^^^^B
BI^^^^M
Burial of a Protestant during the time of Popish
Persecution. Page 349.
Archbishop Cranmer burnt. Page 390.
REV. JOHN ROGERS. 289
Martyrdom of the Rev. John Rogers.
^ ^Ir John Rogers, the aged minister of St. Sepulchre's church.
>now llij], London, was the proto-martyr ; he was the first sacrifice,
strictly speaking, offered up in this reign to popery, and led the wav
Jor those sufferers, whose blood has been the foundation, honour, and
glory of the church of England.
This Mr. Rogers had been some time chaplain to the English fac-
tory at Antwerp. There he became acquainted with Mr. Tindal and
assisted him in his translation of the New Testament. There were
several other worthy protestants there at that time, most of whom had
been driven out of England, on account of the persecutions for the
SIX articles in the latter end of the reign of Henry VIII. Mr. Rogers
knowing that marriage was lawful, and even enjoined in scripture,
entered into that state with a virtuous woman, and soon after set out
for Saxony, in consequence of an invitation to that effect.
When Edward ascended the throne of England, Mr. Rogers re-
turned to his native country, and was promoted by Bishop Ridley to a
prebendary of St. Paul's. He was also appointed reader of the divi-
nity lecture in that cathedral, and vicar of St. Sepulchre's.
In this situation he continued some years; and as Queen Mary wa*
returning from the tower, where she had been imbibing Gardiner's
pernicious counsels, Mr. Rogers was preaching at St. Paul's Cross.
He inveighed much against popery, expatiated on the many virtues of
the late King Edward, and exhorted the people to abide in the protcs^
tant religion.
For this sermon he ^vas summoned before the council ; but he vin-
dicated himself so well, that he was dismissed.
This lenity shown by the council was rather displeasing to ths
queen; and Mr. Rogers' zeal against popery being equal to his
knowledge and integrity, he was considered as a person who would
,^Ys ?vent the re-establishment of popery.
For this reason it was, that he was summoned a second time before
the council, and although there were many papists among the mem-
bers, yet such was the respect almost universally felt for Mr. Roo-ers,
that he was again dismissed, but was commanded not to go out of his
own house. This order he complied with, although he mio-ht have
made his escape if he would. He knew he could have had ? living in
Germany, and he had a wife and ten children ; but all these things did
not move him ; he did not court death, but met it with fortitude when
it came.
He remained confined in his own house several weeks, till Bonner,
bishop of London, procured an order to have him committed to Nevv'
gate, where he was lodged among thieves and murderers.
He was afterwards brought a third time before the council, where
Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, presided. It was not with any view
of showing lenity to the prisoner ; it was not with a view of convin-
cing him of error, supposing him to be guilty of any ; it was not to re-
call him to the Romish church that he was brought there ; no, his de-
struction was designed, and he was singled out to be an example to all
those who should refuse to comply with Romish idolatry.
When brought before the chancellor and council, he freely acknow
ledged, that he had been fully convinced, in his own mind, that the
pope was antichrist, and that his religion was contrary to the gospel
290 BOOK OF MARTIkS.
Ho made a most elaborate defence, which, however, did not avail
him m the minds of his persecutors. He showed them, that the sta-
tute upon which he was prosecuted had never legally passed, and even
if it had, it was in all respects contrary to the word of God : for what-
ever emoluments might have been bestowed upon the clergy from
time to time, they had no right to persecute those who differed from
them in sentiment.
After he had been examined several times before the council, which
was a mere mockery of justice, he was turned over to Bonner, bishop
of London, who caused him to go through a second mock examina-
tion ; and, at last, declared him to be an obstinate heretic. A cer-
tificate of this was, in the ordinary course, sent into chancery, and a
writ was issued for the burning of Mr. Rogers in SmithfieJd. This
sentence did not in the least frighten our martyr, who by iaith in the
blood of Christ, was ready to go through with his attachment to the
truth without paying any regard to the malice of his enemies.
On the 4th of February, 1555, Mr. Rogers was taken out of New-
gate, to be led to the place of execution, when the sheriff asked him
if he would recant his opinions ? To this he answered, " Ihat what
he had preached he would seal with his blood." " Then," said the
sheriff, " thou art a heretic." To which Mr. Rogers answered, " That
will be known when we meet at the judgment seat of Christ."
As they were taking him to Smithfield, his wife and, eleven children
went to take their last farewell of a tender husband, and an indulgent
parent. Tlie sheriffs, however, would not permit them to speak to
him ; so unfeeling is bigotry, so merciless is superstition ! When
he was chained to the stake, he declared that God would in his ov/n
good time vindicate the truth of Avhat he had taught, and appear in
favour of the protestant religion. Fire was set to the pile, and he
was consumed to ashes.
He was a very pious and humane man, and his being singled *
as the first victim of superstitious cruelty, can only entitle him to p
higher crown of glory in heaven.
Martyrdom of Laurence Saunders.
The next person who suffered in this reign was the reverend Mr.
Laurence Saunders, of whose former life we have collected the fol-
lowing particulars: his father had a considerable' estate in Oxford-
shire, but dying young, left a large family of children. Laurence
was sent to Eaton school as one of the king's scholars.
From Eaton he was, according to the rules of the foundation, sent
to King's college in Cambridge, where he studied three years, and
made great progress in the different sorts of ^earning- then taught in
the schools. At the end of the three years he left the university, and
returning to his mother, prevailed on her to place him with a
merchant.
He was accordingly articled to Sir William Chester, a rich mer-
chant in London, who was afterwards sheriff of that city. He had
not been long in this employment, when he became weary of a life
of trade. He sunk into a deep melancholy, and afterwards went into
a retired chamber, to mourn for his imprudence, and to beg of God
that he would, in some manner or other, deliver him from a life so
disgustful.
REV. LAURENCE SAUNDERS. 201
His master, who was a worthy man, took notice of this, and asked
Saunders his reasons for being in that desponding condition ? The
young gentleman candidly told him ; upon which he immediately
gave him up his indentures, and sent him home to his relations.
This Saunders considered as a happy event, and that no time might
be lost, he returned to his studies at Cambridge ; and, what was very
uncommon in that age, he learned the Greek and Hebrew languages.
After this he devoted himself wholly to the study of the sacred scrip-
tures, in order to qualify himself for preaching the gospel.
In study he ^vas diligent, and practical in holiness of life : in doing
good few equalled him, and he seemed to have nothing in view but
the happiness of immortal souls.
In the beginning of King Edward's reign, when the true religion
began to be countenanced, he entered into orders, and preached with
great success. His first appointment was at Fotheringham, where he
read a divinity lecture; but that college having been dissolved, he
was appointed a preacher in Litchfield. In that new station his
conduct entitled him to great res])ect : for such was his sweetness of
temper, his knowledge in his profession, his eloquent manner of ad-
dress-ing his hearers, the purity of his manners, and his affectionate
addresses to the heart, that he was universally respected, and his min-
istry was very useful.
After being some months in Litchfield, he removed to the living of
Church-Langton, in Leicestershire : there he resided with his people,
and instructed many who before were ignorant of the true principles
of the Christian religion. He was the same to men's bodies as to
their souls. All that he received, beside the small pittance that sup-
ported his person, was given away to feed the hungry, and clothe
the naked. Here was the Christian minister indeed : for no instuc-
tions will make a lasting impression on the mind, while the example
IS contrary.
His next removal was to Alhallows, in Bread-street, London ; and
when he had taken possession of it, he went down to the country, to
part, in an affectionate manner, Avith his friends.
While he was in the country King Edward died, and Mary succeed-
ing, publislied a proclamation, commanding all her subjects to attend
mass. Many pious ministers refused to obey the royal proclama-
tion, and none was more forward in doing so than Mr. Saunders. He
continued to preach whenever he had an opportunity, and read the
■prayer-book, with the scriptures, to the people, till he was appre-
hended in the following manner.
Mr. Saunders was advised to leave the nation, as pious Dr. Jewel,
and many others, did ; but he would not, declaring to his friends, that
he was willing to die for the name of the Lord Jesus. Accordingly,
he left his people in Leicestershire, and travelled towards London, on
his arrival near which, he was met by Sir John Mordant, a privy
counsellor to Queen Mary, who asked him where he was going ? Mr.
Saunders said, to his living in Bread-streed, to instruct liis people.
Mordant desired him not go : to which Mr. Saunders answered,
" How shall I then be accountable to God ? If any be sick and die
before consolation, then what a load of guilt will be upon my con-
science, as an unfaithful shepherd, an unjust steward !"
Mordant asked whether he did not frequently preach in Bread-
292 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
street ; and being answered in the affirmative, he endeavoured to dis-
suade him from doing so any more. Sauiiders, however, was reso
iiite, and told him he would continue to preach as long as he lived
and invited the other to come and hear him the next day ; adding,
that he would confirm him in the truth of those sentiments which he
taught. Upon this they parted, and Mordant went and gave infor-
mation to Bishop Bonner, that Saunders would preach in his church
the next Sunda/
In the mean time Saunders went to his lodgings, with a mind re-
solved to do his duty ; when a person came to visit him, and took no-
tice of him that he seemed to be troubled. He said he was ; adding,
" I am, as it were, in prison, till I speak to my people." So earnest
was his desire to discharge his duty, and so little did he regard the
malice of his enemies.
The next Sunday he preached in his church, and made a most
elaborate discourse against the errors of popery ; he exhorted the
people to remain steadfast in the truth ; not to fear those who can
kill only the body, but to fear Him who can throw both body and soul
into hell. He was attended by a great concourse of people, which
gave much offence to the clergy, particularly to Bishop Bonner.
Through this bishop's instrumentality he was apprehended and
confined in prison for a year and three months, strict orders being
given to the keepers, not to suffer any person to converse with him.
His wife, however, came to the prison with her young child in her
arms, and the keeper had so much compassion, that he took the child
and carried it to its father.
Mr. Saunders seeing the child, rejoiced greatly, saying, it was a
peculiar happiness for him to have such a boy. And to the bystanders,
who admired the beauty of the child, he said, " What man, fearing
God, would not lose his life, sooner than have it said that the mother
of this child was a harlot."
He said these words, in order to point out the woful effects of po-
pish celibacy ; for the priests, being denied the privilege of marriage,
seduced the wives and daughters of many of the laity, and filled the
nation with bastards, who were left exposed to all sorts of hardships.
After all these afliictions and sufferings, Mr. Saunders was brought
before the council, where the chancellor sat as president ; and there
he was asked a great number of questions concerning his opinions.
These questions were proposed in so artful and ensnaring a manner,
that the prisoner, by telling the truth, must criminate himself; and
to have stood mute would have subjected him to the torture.
Under such circumstances God gave him fortitude to assert the
truth, by declaring his abhorrence of all the doctrines of popery.
The examination being ended, the officers led him out of the place,
and then waited till some other prisoners were examined. While
Mr. Saunders was standing among the officers, seeing a great number
of people assembled, as is common on such occasions, he exhorted
them to beware of falling off from Christ to Antichrist, as many were
then returning to popery, because they had not fortitude to suffer.
The chancellor ordered him to be excommunicated, and committed
him to the Compter. This was a great comfort to him, because he
was visited by many of his people, whom he exhorted to constancy
BISHOP HOOPER. 293
and when they were denied admittance, he spoke to them through
the grate.
On the 4th of February the sheriff of London delivered him to the
bishop, who degraded him ; and Mr. Saunders said, " Thank God, I
am now out of your church."
The day following, he was given up to some of the queen's offi-
cers, who were appointed to convey him down to Coventry, there to
be burned. The first night they lay at St. Albans, where Mr. Saun-,
ders took an opportunity of rebuking a person who had ridiculed the
Christian faith.
After they arrived at Coventry, a poor shoemaker, who had for-
merly worked for Mr. Saunders, came to him and said, " O, my good
master, may God strengthen you." " Good shoemaker," answered
Mr. Saunders, " I beg you will pray for me, for I am at present in a
very weak condition ; but I hope, my gracious God, who hath ap-
pointed me to it, will give me strength."
The same night he spent in the common prison, praying for, and
exhorting all those who went to hear him.
The next day, which was the 8th of February, he was led to the
place of execution, in the park without the gate of that city, going
in an old gown and shirt, barefooted, and often fell on the ground and
prayed. When he approached the place of execution, the under sheriff
told him he was a heretic, and that he had led the people away from
the true religion ; but yet, if he would recant, the queen Avould par-
don him. To this Mr. Saunders answered, " That he had not filled
the realm with heresy, for he had tauglit the people the pure truths
of the gospel ; and in all his sermons, while he exhorted the people
firmly, desired his hearers to be obedient to the queen."
When brought to the stake he embraced it, and after being fastened
to it, and the fagots lighted, he said, " Welcome the cross of Christ,
welcome everlasting life ;" soon after which he resigned his soul into
the hands of him who gave it.
Well might the apostle say, that if we only in this life have hope,
we are, of all men, the most miserable. This martyr was naturally of
a timid disposition ; and yet here we see with what constancy he died.
This is a strong proof that there must be an almighty poAver, working
through faith in the hearts of those who are punished for the truth.
SECTION II.
SUFFERINGS AND MAKTYRDOM OF BISHOP HOOPER.
We have seen, in our account of the pious Mr. Saunders, that a
man by nature weak and timorous, could bear, with undaunted bold-
ness, all those torments which were prepared for him by his enemies,
and by the enemies of Christ Jesus : and we have seen that giacious
Being, for whose name's sake he suffered, supported him under all
his afflictions.
We shall now bring forth another martyr, whose name will ever be
esteemed for his sincere attachment to the protestant religion, and for
294 BOOK OF MARTYRS
the little regard he paid to ceremonies, about which there has been
much unnecessary, and indeed angry contention.
The person to whom we allude was Dr. John Hooper, a man of emi-
nence in his profession. He was educated in Oxford, but in what col-
lege does not appear; probably it was in Queen's College, because he
was a north countryman, that seminary of learning being appropriated
for those of the northern counties.
He made great progress in his studies, and was remarkable for
early piety. He studied the sacred scriptures with the most un-
remitting assiduity, and was, fur some time, an ornament to the uni-
versity.
His spirit was ferv^ent, and he hated every thing in religion that
was not of an essential nature. When the six articles were published,
Hooper did all he could to oppose them, as maintaining every thing
in the popish system, except the supremacy. He preached fre-
quently against them, which created him many enemies in Oxford ;
but Henry VHI. had such an opinion of him, that he would not suffer
him to be molested. Soon after this he was obliged to leave the uni-
versity, and assuming a lay character, became Steward to Sir Thomas
Arundel, who at first treated him with great kindness, till, having
discovered his sentiments as to religion, he became his most implaca-
ble enemy.
Mr. Hooper having received intelligence that some mischief was
intended against him, left the house of Sir Thomas A.rundel, and, bor-
rowing a horse from a friend, whose life he had saved, rode off to-
wards the sea-side, intending to go to France, sending back the horse
by a servant. He resided some time at Paris, in as private a manner
as possible. Returning again to England he was informed against,
and obliged to leave his native country a second time. '
He went over again to France, but not being safe there, he travelled
into Germany; from thence he went to Basil, where he married a
pious woman, and afXrwards settled some time at Zurich, in Switzer-
land ; there he applied closely to his studies, and made himself mas-
ter of the Hebrew language.
At length, when the true religion was set up after the death of king
Henry VHI. amongst other exiles that returned was Mr. Hooper. In
the most grateful manner he returned thanks to all his friends abroad,
who had shown him so much compassion ; particularly to the learned
Bullinger, who was a great friend to all those who were persecuted
for the gospel. When he took an affectionate leave of Bullinger, he
told him that he would write to him as often as he could find an op-
portunity, but added, " probably I shall be burned to ashes, and then
some friend will give you information." Another circumstance
should not be omitted in this place, and that is, that when he was ap-
pointed bishop of Gloucester and Worcester, the herald, who embla-
zoned his arms, put the figure of a lamb in a fiery bush, with the rays
of glory descending from heaven on the lamb, which had such an ef-
fect on Dr. Hooper, that he said he knew he should dio for the truth;
and this consideration inspired him with courage. But to return to
our narrative.
When Dr. Hooper arrived in London, he was so much filled with
zeal to promote the gospel, that he preached every day to crowded
congregations. In his sermons he reproved sinners in general, but
BISHOP HOOPER. 295
particularly directed his discourse against the peculiar vices of the
limes.
The abuses he complained of were owing to a variety of causes :
the nobility had got the church lands, and the clergy were not only se-
ditious in their conduct, but ignorant even to a proverb. This occa-
sioned a scene of general immorality among all ranks and degrees of
people, which furnished pious men with sufFjcient matter for reproof.
In his doctrine, Hooper was clear, plain, eloquent, and persuasiv^e,
and so much followed by all ranks of people, that the churches could
not contain them.
Although no man could labour more indefatigably in the Lord's
vineyard, yet Hooper had a most excellent constitution, which he sup-
ported by temperance, and was therefore enabled to do much good.
In the whole of his conversation with those who waited on him in pri-
vate, he spoke of the purity of the gospel, and of the great things of
God, cautioning the people against returning to popery, if any change
in the government should take place. This was the more necessary,
as the people in general were but ill grounded, though Cranmer, Rid-
ley, and many other pious men, were using every means in their power
to make them acquainted with the principles of the Christian religion.
In this pious undertaking, no one was more forward than Dr. Hooper;
at all times, " in season, and out of season," he was ready to discharge
his duty as a faithful minister of the gospel.
After he had preached some time, with great success, in the city,
he was sent for by Edward VI. who appointed him one of his chap-
lains, and soon after K'.ade him bishop of Gloucester, by letters-patent
under the great seal ; having at the same time the care of the bishopric
of Worcester committed to him.
As Dr. Hooper had been some time abroad, he had contracted an
aversion to the popish ceremonies, and before he went to his bishop-
ric, he requested of the king that he might not be obliged to give coun-
tenance to them, which request the monarch complied with, though
much against the inclinations of the other bishops. Dr. Hooper, and
his brethren of the reformed church, had many disputes about the
Romish tenets, which shows that there are some remains of corrup-
tion in the best of men. Some persons seek honours with unwearivid
zeal, and seem to take more pleasure in titles, than in considering that
an elevated rank only increases the necessity of being more observant
of our duty.
Dr. Hooper differed from these men, for instead of seeking prefer-
ments, he would never have accepted of any, had they not been pressed
on him. Having the care of two dioceses, he held and guided them
both together, as if they had been but one. His leisure time, which
was but little, he spent in hearing causes, in private prayer, and read-
ing the scriptures. He likewise visited the schools, and encouraged
youth in the pursuits of learning. He had children of his own, whom
he likewise instructed, and treated them with all the tenderness of a
good parent, but without the indulgence of a weak one.
He kept open house, with provisions for the poor, which was a very
pious and necessary action in those times, because many persons who
had been driven out of the convents roved up and down the country
starving. He relieved a certain number of these every day, ana
296 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
when they liad satisfied their hunger, he delivered a discourse to them
on the principles of the Christian religion.
After this manner, Bishop Hooper continued to discharge his duty as
a faithful pastor, during the whole of King Edward's reign. But no
sooner was Mary proclaimed, than a sergeant at arms wa's sent to ar-
rest our bishop, in order to answer to two charges :
First, to Dr. Heath, who had been deprived of the diocese of Glou-
cester for his adherence to popery, but was now restored by the queen:
secondly, to Dr. Bonner, bishop of London, for having given evidence
to King Edward against that persecuting prelate.
Bishop Hooper was desired, by some of his friends, to make his
escape, but his .answer was, " I once fled for my life, but I am now
determined, through the strength and grace of God, to witness the
truth to the last."
Being brought before the queen and council, Gardiner, sitting as
president, accused Bishop Hooper of heresy, calling him the most op-
probrious names. This was in September, 1553, and although he sa-
tisfactorily answered the charges brought against him, he was com-
mitted to prison on the pretence of being indebted to the queen in seve-
ral sums of money. On the 19th of March, 1554, when he was called
again to appear before Gardiner, the chancellor, and several other
bishops, would not sufl'er him to plead his cause, but deprived him of
his bishopric.
Being asked whether he Avas a married man, he answered in the
affirmative, and declared that he would not be unmarried, till death
occasioned the separation ; because he looked upon the marriage of
the clergy as necessary and legal.
The more they attempted to brow-beat him, the more resolute he
became, and the more pertinent in his answers. He produced the
decrees of the council of Nice, Avhich first ascertained the canon of
scripture, where it was ordained to be lawful, as well as expedient,
for the clergy to marry. These arguments were to little purpose
with men who had their instructions from the queen, and were previ-
ously determined to punish him ; the good bishop was therefore com-
mitted to the tower, but afterwards removed to the Fleet.
As the determination for burning him was not agreed on, he was
only considered as a debtor to the queen, for rents of his bishopric,
which Avas the reason of his being sent to the Fleet. This, however,
was a most unjust charge; for the protestant religion had been es-
tablished in the first year of the reign of her brother Edward, by act
of parliament; so that Dr. Hooper's acceptance of a bishopric, was in
all respects legal and constitutional.
As a debtor, he was to have the rules of the Fleet, whicli the war-
den granted him for five pounds sterling ; but Avent immediately and
informed Gardiner, who, notwithstanding he had paid the money, or-
dered him to be closely confined.
The following account of his cruel treatment while confined here,
was written by himself, and afibrds a picture of popish barbarity,
which cannot fail to make a ui;e impression on our readers.
" The first of September, 1553, I was committed unto the Fleet,
from Richmond, to have the liberty of the prison; and Avithin six days
after I paid five pounds sterling to' the Avarden for fees, for my liberty ;
who immediately upon payment thereof complained unto the bishop of
BISHOP HOOPER 297
Winchester, upon which I was committed to close prison one quarter
of a year in the tower-chamber of the Fleet, and used extremely ill.
Then by tlie means of a good gentlewoman, I had liberty to come
down to dinner and supper, not suffered to speak with anj^ of my
friends, but as soon as dinner and supper were done, to repair to my
chamber again. Notwithstanding, whilst I came down thus to dinner
and supper, the warden and his wife picked quarrels with mc, and com-
plained untruly of me to their great friend, the bishop of AVinchester.
"After one quarter of a year, Babington, the warden, and his wife,
fell out with me, respecting the wicked mass; and thereupon the war-
den resorted to the bishop of Winchester, and obtained to put me into
the wards, where I have continued a long time, having nothing ap-
pointed to me for my bed, but a little pad of straw and a rotten cover-
ing, with a tick and a few feathers therein, the chamber being vile and
stinking, until, by God's means, good people sent me bedding to lie on.
On one side of the prison is the sink and filth of the house, and on the
other the town ditch, so that the stench of the house hath infected me
with sundry diseases.
" During which time I have been sick, and the doors, bars, hasps,
and chains, being all closed upon me, I have mourned, called, and
cried for help ; but the Avarden, when he hath known me many times
ready to die, and when the poor men of the wards have called to help
me, hath commanded the doors to be kept fast, and charged that none
of his men should come at me, saying ' Let him alone, it were a good
riddance of him.'
"I paid always like a baron to the said warden, as well in fees, as
for my board, which was twenty shillings a week, besides my man's
table, until I was wrongfully deprived of my bishoprics, and since that
time, I have paid him as the best gentleman doth in his house ; yet
hath he used me worse, and more vilely, than the veriest slave that
ever came to the common side of the prison.
" The warden hath also imprisoned my man, William Downton,
and stripped him out of his clothes to search for letters, and could find
none, but a little remembrance of good people's names who had given
me their alms to relieve me in prison ; and to undo them also, the
warden delivered the same bill unto the said Stephen Gardiner, God's
enemy and mine.
" I have suflered imprisonment almost eighteen months, my goods,
livings, friends, and comfort, taken from me; the queen owing me, by
just account, fourscore pounds or more. She hath put me in prison,
and giveth nothing to keep me, neither is there suffered any one to
come at me, whereby I might have relief. I am with a wicked man
and woman, so that I see no remedy, (saving God's help,) but I shall
be cast away in prison before I come to judgment. But I commit my
just cause to God, whose will be done, whether it be by life or death.'
After he had been eighteen months in prison, on the 22d of Janu-
ary, 1555, the warden of the Fleet was ordered to bring him before the
Chancellor Gardiner, who, with other bishops, were appointed to ex-
amine him a second time, at Gardiner's palace in Southwark.
When brought before these merciless persecutors, the chancellor
made a long speech to him, desiring him to forsake the opinions he
had embraced, and return to the bosom of the church ; adding, that
as tlie pope was the head of the church, so it was breaking through
298 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
iicr unity to separate from her. He promised to procure him tne
pope's absolution if he would recant his opinions ; but this was merely
an ostentatious pretence to mercy ; for Gardiner knew that Hooper
was too well grounded in his religious opinions to comply with his
request.
To this Dr. Hooper answered, that as the pope's doctrine was con-
trary to the sacred scriptures, and as he could not be the head of the
church, because th'ere was no head of it but Christ, so he would live
and die asserting the doctrines he had taught.
Gardiner replied, that the queen would never show any mercy to
the enemies of the pope ; whereupon, Babington, the warden, was
commanded to take him back to the Fleet. It was likewise declared,
that he should be shifted from his former chamber, which was done ;
and he was searched, to find, if possible, whether he had any books
concealed about him, but none were found.
On the 25th of January he was again brought before the chancellor
to be examhied, and was again asked whether or not he would re-
cant; but nothing could shake his constancy.
On Monday morning, February 4, the bishop of London went to
the prison to degrade him, which was done in the usual form, by put-
ting the different robes upon him worn by priests, and then taking
them off. They did not put on him the bishop's robes, because they
did not admit of the validity of his ordination. While they were
stripping him of these Romish rags, he told them he was glad to part
with them, because his mind had been always against them, and con-
sidered them no better than heathenish relics ; as in fact they were, for
the same kind of robes were worn by the priests before the time of
Constantine the Great.
A few hours after he was degraded, the keeper came to him, and
told him he was to be sent down to Gloucester to suffer death. Upon
this he lifted up his eyes and hands to heaven, praising God that he
was to die among his people, as it would be the means of confirming
them in the truth of what he had taught them. He immediately sent
to his servant for his boots and cloak, that he might be in readiness to
attend the officers whenever they should come for him.
About four in the morning he was taken out of prison by the sheriff^,
and conducted to the sign of the Angel, near St. Dunstan's church.
Fleet-street. There he was received by the queen's officers, who had
the warrant for his execution ; after which they permitted him to take
some refreshment.
About break of day he cheerfully mounted on horseback without
help, having a hood on his head under his hat, that he should not be
known ; and, thus equipped, with a serene and cheerful countenance,
proceeded on the road to Gloucester, attended by his keepers. The
guards asked him what houses he was accustomed to use on the road,
and when they were informed, in order to perplex him, they took him
to others.
On the Thursday following they arrived at Cironcester, a town in
his own diocese, and about eleven miles from Gloucester, where they
dined at the house of a woman who had always hated the protestants,
and traduced Bishop Hooper's character as much as possible. This
woman, seeing his constancy, was so affected, that she lamented his
BISHOP HOOPER. 299
\^a^K- Willi leais, anu oeggeu iiis pufuOii lOr mc maiinci 111 wiiicil she
had spoken of him
Dinner being over, they proceeded to Gloucester, where they ar-
rived about five in the afternoon. A great crowd of people were as-
sembled about a mile without the town ; so that one of the guard,
fearing a rescue, rode up to the mayor's house, to demand aid and
assistance. This being granted, the people dispersed.
Hooper was that night lodged in the house of one Ingram, where
he ate his supper with a good appetite, and slept very quietly, as the
guard declared, for they continued in the chamber with him all the
night. In the morning he got up, and having prayed most fervently,
was visited by Sir Anthony Kingston, who was one of the persons
appointed to see him executed. When Sir Anthony came into his
chamber he found him at his prayers, and waiting till he had done,
asked if he did not know him. To this Bishop Hooper answered,
that he did know him, and was glad to see him in good health. He
added, that he was come there to end his life, and blessed God that it
was to be in the midst of his own diocese. He said he loved life as well
as it ought to be loved, but he was not to enjoy it at the expense of
his future welfare. He was not to blaspheme his Saviour by denying
his name, through which alone he looked for salvation ; but trusted
that he should be endowed with fortitude suflicient to bear all the tor-
ments his enemies could inflict upon him.
Sir Anthony Kingston had profited much from the preaching of
Bishop Hooper, and taking his leave, told him, with tears, that he was
extremely sorry to lose so worthy a person. Dr. Hooper answered,
that it was his duty to persevere in the truth, and not to be ashamed
of the gospel, lest Christ should refuse to acknowledge him before his
Father in heaven.
The same day, in the afternoon, a poor blind boy came to visit
Bishop Hooper, and, falling on his knees before him, said, " Ah, my
lord, I am blind in my eyes, but your pious instructions have removed
a spiritual blindness from my heart. May God support you under all
your sufferings, and bring you, even through flames, to heaven !"
Several other persons visited the bishop, amongst whom was a very
wicked man, a bigoted papist, who had known him formerly. This
man upbraided him with what he called his heresy ; but Hooper bore
all his insults with patience and meekness.
The time appointed for the execution of this pious bishop drawing
nigh, he was delivered to the sherifts of Gloucester, who, with the
mayor and aldermen, repaired to his lodgings, and, at the first meet-
ing, having saluted him, took him by the hand. The resigned martyr
thanked the mayor, with the rest of the officers, for taking a condemn-
ed man by the hand, and for all the friendship that had formerly sub-
sisted between them, for he had lon^ been acquainted with them. He
begged of the sheriffs that they wou/d make the fire as violent as pos-
sible, that his pains might be of the shorter duration ; adding, that he
might have had his life if he chose it, but could not, consistently with
that duty he owed to God, and 1: is own conscience. He said, he
knew the bishop of Rome was antichrist, and therefore he could not
be obedient to him. He desired tbey would not deny his request, bu'
let him suffer as soon as possible, v ithout exercising any unnecet- 8')'
cruelty, which was unbecoming the dignity of men \>( honour.
300 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
A consultation was held by the sheriffs, whether or not they should
lodge him, the evening before his execution, in the common gaol over
the north gate of the city ; but the guards who had brought him from
London, interceded so earnestly in his favour, that he was permitted
to remain in his former lodgings ; and he spent the evening in prayer,
together with as much of the night as he could spare from his ordi-
nary rest. The believer, who is to rest in Christ Jesus, throughout
the endless ages of eternity, may well enjoy an hour's sleep, before
the commencement of even the most excruciating tortures.
When Bishop Hooper arose in the morning, he desired that no
person whatever should disturb him in his devotion, till the officers
came to lead him out to execution.
About eight o'clock, the Lord Chandois, attended by several other
noblemen and gentlemen, came to conduct him to the place of execu-
tion ; and at nine Dr. Hooper was ready. Being brought down from
his chamber, when he saw the guards, he told the sheriffs he was no
traitor, but one who was willing to die for the truth ; and that if they
would have permitted him, he would have willingly gone unguarded
to the stake, without troubling any officers. Afterwards, looking
upon the multitude of people that were assembled, above seven thou-
sand in number, he said, " Alas ! why are so many people assembled ?
I dare not speak to them as formerly."
He was led forward between the two sheriffs, as a lamb to the
slaughter, having on a gown which the man of the house, where he
was confined, had lent him ; and being much afflicted with an illness
he had contracted in prison, he was obliged to walk with a staff in his
hand. The sheriffs having commanded him not to speak one word,
he was not seen to open his mouth, but beholding the people, who
mourned bitterly, he sometimes lifted his eyes towards heaven, and
looked cheerfully upon such as he knew ; and, indeed, his counte-
nance was more cheerful than it had been for a long time before.
When he was brought to the stake, he embraced it, and looked
smilingly to a place where he used formerly to preach. He then
kneeled down to pray, and beckoned several limes to one whom he
knew well, to come near to hear him, that he might give a faithful ac-
count of what he said, after his death, as he was not permitted to
speak aloud. When he had been some time at prayer, a pardon was
brought, and offered to him, on condition that he would recant ; but
neither promises of pardon, nor threatenings of punishment, had any
effect on him ; so immoveable was he in the faith, and so well esta-
blished in the principles of the gospel.
Prayers being ended, he prepared himself for the stake, by taking
off his landlord's gown, which he delivered to the sheriffs, requesting
them to see it restored to the owner. He then took off the rest of
his clothes, except his doublet and hose, in which he intended to be
burned ; but the sheriffs not permitting that, he patiently submitted.
After this, a pound of gunpowder was placed between his legs, and
the same quantity under each arm ; three chains were then fixed
round him, one to his neck, another to his middle, and a third to his
legs ; and with these he was fastened to the slake.
This being done, fire was put to the fagots ; but they being green,
he suffered inexpressible torment. Soon after this, a load of drv
DR ROWLAND TAYLOR. 301
fagots was brought, but still the wind blew away the flames ; so that
he begged for more, that he might be put out of his misery.
At length the fire took efTect, and the martyr triumphantly ascend-
ed into heaven, after such a fiery trial as almost exceeds any thing
we meet with in the primitive ages. His last Avords were, " Lord
Jesus have mercy upon me ; enable me to bear my sufferings for thy
name s sake, and receive my spirit."
Such was the end of one of the most eminent fathers of the church
of England ; and surely that religion which could support him under
such dreadful tortures must be of God. Fanaticism and superstition
may give resolution ; but it is only the divine influence of pure reli-
gion which can bestow calmness in the hour of death.
SECTION III.
SUFFERINGS AND MARTYRDOM OF DR. ROWLAND TAYLOR.
Dr. Rowland Taylor was born in the town of Hadleigh, in Suffolk,
which was one of the first places in England that received the gos-
pel ; and here he preached constantly during the reign of King Ed-
ward. Archbishop Cranmer, who was a good judge of merit, and
loved to reward it in learned men, took him into his family, and pre-
sented him to the living of Hadleigh. Here he proved himself a
most excellent preacher and a faithful pastor. He made himself ac-
quainted with every individual in his parish ; he taught them like
the apostles and primitive Christians, who went from house to house.
The love of Christ wrought so strongly on his mind, that every Sun-
day and holiday, he preached in the most fervent manner to his
people.
Nor did he restrict himself to preaching : his life was one con-
tinued comment on his doctrine ; it wa.« a life of holiness : he studied
nothing so much as to do good ; was a stranger to pride ; and was
clothed Avith humility. He was particularly attentive to the poor,
and his charity was bounded only by his ability. While he rebuked
sinners for their enormities, he was ready to relieve their wants.
This Avas a god-like disposition, and the characteristic of a true
Christian.
In the course of his ministerial labours he often met Avith opposi-
tion, and even Avith abuse ; but he attended to the maxim laid doAvn
by the apostle, that Ave must go through evil, as Avell as through good
report. He Avas a married man, but never sat doAvn to dinner Avith
his family, Avithout first inquiring Avhether the poor Avanted any thing.
To those who Avere distressed, he gave relief before he ate any thing
himself. He familiarized himself Avith all ranks of men, in order
that he might Avin them to the knowledge and practice of the truth.
He Avas an indulgent, tender, aflTectionate husband, and brought up
his children in the fear of God, Avell knowing, that to lay a good
foundation is the only Avay to secure a beautiful superstructure.
In this excellent manner. Dr. Taylor continued to discharge his
duty at Hadleigh, as long as King Edward lived ; but no sooner Avas
that pious monarch dead, than affairs took a different turn.
302 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
And here we may observe, that if a man be ever so pious, if he be
ever so faithful in the discharge of his duty, yet he will meet with many
enemies : this was the case with Dr. Taylor. In his parish, notwith-
standing all his endeavours to suppress popery, yet some papists re-
mained ; and their hatred of his doctrines extended to the preacher,
and rendered them blind to his excellencies.
Two of these persons, named Clarke and Foster, hired a Romish
priest to come to Hadleigh to say mass. For this purpose, they or
dered an altar to be built with all convenient speed, and appointed,
that mass should be said on Palm Sunday. But the reformers met
together in the evening, and pulled down the altar; it Avas, however,
built up again, and a watch was appointed, lest it should be demolished
a second time.
The day following, Clarke and Foster came, bringing along with
them their popish priest, who was to perform the service of mass. The
priest was dressed in his robes for the occasion, and had a guard with
him, lest he should be interrupted by the populace.
When Dr. Taylor heard the bells ring, he went into the church to
know the reason, but found the doors of the chancel barred against
him. However, getting within the chancel, he saw the popish priest
at the altar, attended by a great number of people, Avith their swords
drawn. The doctor accused the priest of idolatry, but the priest re-
torted upon him, and called him a traitor, for disobeying the queen's
proclamation. Dr. Taylor said he was no traitor, but a minister of
the gospel, commanded to teach the people ; and then ordered the
popish priest to retire, as one who came in there to poison the flock
of Christ with his most abominable doctrines. Foster, who was prin-
cipally concerned in this afliiir, called Dr. Taylor a traitor, and vio-
lently dragged him out of the church ; while his wife, on her knees,
begged that God would vindicate his innocence, and avenge the inju-
ries so wrongfully inflicted on him.
Foster and Clarke next exhibited a charge of heresy against Dr.
Taylor, to the chancellor Gardiner, who sent a messenger, command-
ing Dr. Taylor to appear before him, in order to answer to the charge.
When Dr. Taylor's friends heard of this they were much grieved,
and fearing what would be the result, as justice was not to be expected
from the furious bigots then in power, advised him to go abroad to
save his life. But this he would by no means comply with ; saying
that it was more honourable to suffer for the cause of God, than to
flee from the Avrath of Avicked men. " God," said he, " will either
protect me from suflTerings, or he will enable me to bear them." He
added, " That he knew his dying for the truth would be of more ser-
vice to the cause of Christ, than his flying away from the malice of
his persecutors."
When his friends saw that nothing could prevail upon him, they
took leave of him with tears ; after which he set out for London, ac-
companied by a servant, named John Hull, who had been a consider-
able time in his family. This faithful servant advised him to make
his escape, but to no purpose ; for Taylor said, that the good shepherd
should never leave his sheep, till he was torn from them by force. In
the same heavenly mannei he exhorted John to be constant in the pro-
fession of Christianity, and not to return to popery. He said, that
worliUy wisdom was apt to take too deep a root in our hearts, and that
DR. ROWLAND TAYLOR. 303
U was, therefore, our duty to do all we could to triumph ove" llic
world, the llesh, and the devil; to be consistent in our attachment to
the truth ; to keep in view the glorious eternity provided for the
faithful ; to despise earthly enjoyments, while we strive to rendei
ourselves worthy of heaven ; to fear God more than men ; to believe
that he will sweeten all our suflerings, by the influence of his holy
spirit; to think nothing too hard to endure, in order to obtain a bless-
ed immortality ; and, with a Christian courage, to trample on death,
and triumph over the grave.
When Dr. Taylor was brought before the chancellor Gardiner, that
prelate reviled him in the most shocking manner, calling him a traitor
and a heretic; all which our pious martyr patiently submitted to.
In the opinion of Gardiner he might have been a heretic, but, ac-
cording to law, he could not have been a traitor ; for the statute of
high treason, and the statute of heresy, enforced different punish-
ments : for treason the offending party was to be hanged and quar-
tered ; for heresy he was to be burned alive. Had Queen Mary pro-
ceeded against this man, and many others, on the statute of high-trea-
son, they must have been acquitted, as the trial would have been con-
ducted according to the principles of common law. But this she had
no intention to do ; her design was to gratify the clergy, by causing
all those who opposed their sentiments, to be put to death in the most
barbarous manner.
Dr. Taylor answered the chancellor with a becoming firmness : he
told him, that he was the persecutor of God's people, and that he, him-
self, had adhered to our Saviour and his word ; he put Bishop Gardi-
ner in mind of the oath he had taken in the beginning of King Ed-
ward's reign, to maintain the protestant religion, and oppose the papal
supremacy ; but Gardiner answered, that the oath had been extorted,
60 that he was not obliged to abide by it.
It is certain, that every oath extorted by the threatening of punish-
ment, can have no moral force ; and the man who lias been Aveak
enough to swear, may recede from the obligatory part as soon as he
has an opportunity. But this was not the case with Gardiner ; had
he refused the oath, all the punishment inflicted upon him would liave
been the loss of his bishopric. And surely he who pays the least re-
gard to the sacred Name invoked to witness his sincerity, will not
choose to enjoy a temporal subsistence at the expense of a guilty con-
science.
Dr. Taylor explained to the bishop the nature of an oath, and told
him, that as he had not been forced to take one contrary to the
dictates of conscience, so he was either prejudiced in what he did,
or, what was still worse, he trifled with a sacred obligation ; that no
man Avhatever could dispense with an oath, unless he knew it was his
duty to do so, in consequence of its having been imposed on him by
violence.
Gardiner, who was self-convicted, turned the subject to the dispu-
ted points concerning the real presence, and some other things in
popery.
With respect to the real presence in the sacrament. Dr. Taylor
told him, that it had no foundation in scripture, but had been first
taught about the tenth century. He quoted the book of Bertram,
which was written about that time, wherein the real presence was
304 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
denied, and transubstantiation considered as no better than a novel
doctrine. He made it appear, that Christ only commanded his fol-
lowers to keep the feast of the eucharist, in remembrance of his last
supper with them. That as Christ broke bread and drank wine with
his disciples in a friendly manner, before he was dragged to prison,
to judgment, and to execution, consequently his followers should ob-
serve it as a feast of unity to the end of the Avorld.
Such were the sentiments of this pious man, concerning a very dis-
puted point. He was clear in his conceptions concerning the scrip-
ture account of the last supper, for all the primitive fathers have
taught us to consider it in the same light. When Christ said, " This
is my body," ho could only mean the atonement that was to be made
for sin, and surely that could not be the bread he took in his hand.
The body of Christ, joined to his human soul, and both united to the
divine nature, are now in a state of glory in heaven ; and how then
can the priest turn a morsel of bread into the body of our Divine Re-
deemer? the bare thought puts common sense to the blush. It is full
of absurdity, and can only impose on the grossest credulity, for the
purpose of increasing the influence of artful and designing priests.
Dr. Taylor, after being interrogated by the chancellor for a con-
siderable time, was at length committed to prison ; for bigotry knows
no feeling ; persecution no resting-place.
While he was in prison, he spent the greatest part of his time in
prayer, in reading the sacred scriptures, and in exhorting the poor
prisoners, confined with him, to a sense of their duty. This was the
more necessary, as the people at that time Avere extremely ignorant ;
light indeed was beginning to break in upon them, but they knew not
how to walk. The prison in which Dr. Taylor was confined, was that
commonly called the King's Bench, and there he met with that holy
and pious man, Mr. Bradford, whose afiinity in religious sentiments
contributed to mitigate his sufferings. If two virtuous or pious per
sons are of the same opinion, and under the same circumstances, they
generally sympathize with each other. This Avas the case with Dr.
Taylor and Mr. Bradford ; for no sooner did they meet each other in
prison, than they blessed God who had brought them together, to
suffer for the truth of the gospel.
After Dr. Taylor had lain a considerable time in prison, he was
cited to appear at Bow church, in Cheapside, to answer to the dean
of the arches concerning his marriage.
When he was brought before this officer, he defended marriage in
such a masterly manner, that the dean would not venture to pronounce
a divorce, but only deprived him of his benefice. He was then re-
manded to prison, and kept there above a year and a half; when he
and several others were brought to be again examined before the .
chancellor.
Gardiner asked him whether he adhered to the form of religion, as
established by King Edward VI. 1 Whether he approved of the Eng-
lish book of common prayer ? Whether he was married ? and many
other questions. To all these Dr. Taylor gave clear and satisfactory
answers, justifying his conduct ; but these were not sufficient, seeing
his death was resolved on.
Concerning marriage. Dr. Taylor proved not only from the sacred
scriptures, but likewise from the primitive writers, that the clergy
Martyrdom of Rev. John Rogers. Page 289.
Rev. Rowland Taglor dragged out of Church. P. 302.
Inhuman execution of a mother, two daughters, and
an infant at Guernsey, in 1556. P. 419.
DR. ROWLAND TAYLOR. 3O5
were not prohibited from it. As he was a learned civilian and ca-
nonist, he proved from the Justinian institutions, that all oaths of ce-
libacy were then condemned, and that the priests were exhorted to
marry. Nay, so strict was the emperor in this particular, that if a
man made over a legacy to his wife, on condition of her not marry-.
ing again, the will was to be void.
He added further, that it was contained in the pandects, that if a
man had a female slave, and made her free on condition she should
never marry, the condition should not be binding, and she might mar-
ry, nor should her farmer master be permitted to reclaim her. It
was the more proper to quote the pandects, because they were written
m the sixth century, and although many abuses had then crept into
the church, yet celibacy was not in the number.
The next time he was brought before the chancellor, was in com-
pany with Mr. Saunders, whose martyrdom we have already descri-
Ded, and Mr. Bradford. Dr. Taylor was charged with heresy by the
chancellor, and the other bishops who were present. He acknow-
ledged that he abhorred all the popish doctrines of the church of
Rome; that the pope was Antichrist ; that to deny the clergy the
privilege of marriage was the doctrine of devils ; that there were but
two sacraments in the New Testament ; that the mass was idolatry,
the body of Christ being in heaven ; and last of all, that he would
abide by these sentiments to the last, being convinced that they were
consistent with the doctrines laid down by Christ and his apostles.
One may easily imagine what would be the consequences of such a
free and open declaration. The papists could not bear to hear their fa-
v.ourite notions thus called in question, and even condemned as idolatry.
The chancellor therefore pronounced sentence on him, and he was
taken to a prison in Southw^ark, called the Clink, Avhere he remained
till night, and then was sent to the Compter in the poultry. Here he
remained seven days ; when on the 4th of February, 1555, Bonner,
bishoj) of London, with others, came to the said Compter to degrade
him, bringing Avith them the popish habits.
The last part of the ceremony of degradation is for the bishop to
strike the person degraded on the breast ; but Bonner's chaplain ad-
vised him not to strike Dr. Taylor, for he would surely strike again,
" Yes, that I will, by St. Peter," said the doctor, " for the cause is
Christ's, and I should not be a good soldier, if I did not fight my
master's battles."
The bishop therefore contented himself with pronouncing a curse
upon Dr. Taylor ; to which the doctor answered, " You may curse
ds long as you please, but I am confident God will support me: I
have the witness of a good conscience, that I am standing in defence
of the truth ; whereas you dare not say that you are doing so : but I
will pray for you."
When he was brought up to his chamber, he told Mr. Bradford
that he had made the bishop of London afraid ; " for," said he, " his
chaplain advised him not to strike me, lest I should strike him again,,
which 1 made him believe I would, although I never intended todo'so."
To strike an enemy is strictly forbidden in the gospel ; but even had
Dr. Taylor been so unguarded as to strike the bishop, it could only
have been imputed to the ignorance which at that time prevailed,,
even over the minds of pious men.
20
306 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
The night after he was degraded, his wife, with his son Thomas,
ranie to see him ; and such was the good nature of the keeper, that
he permitted them to go into his apartment and sup with him. Thus
Dr. Taylor found a great difference between the keeper of the bishop's
prison, and the keeper of the Compter. The bishop's keepers Avcre
ever cruel, blasphemous, and tyrannical, like their master ; but the
keepers of the royal prisons, for the most part, showed as much favour
as could be granted, to those whom they had in custody. John Hull,
the servant, came with the wife and son of Dr. Taylor; and at their
first coming in, they all kneeled down and prayed.
After supper the doctor walked two or three times across the room,
blessing God that he had singled him out to bear witness to the trutli,
as it is in Jesus ; that he had been thought worthy to suffer for his
name's sake ; and then, turning to his son, he said, " My dear son,
God Almighty bless you, and give you his holy spirit, to be a true
servant of Christ; to hear his word, and constantly to stand by the
truth all thy lifelong; and, my son, see that thou fear God always;
flee from all sin and wicked living ; be virtuous ; attend closely to thy
book, and pray to God sincerely. In all things that are lawful, see
that thou be obedient to thy mother ; love her, and serve her ; be ruled
and directed by her now in thy youth, and follow her good counsel in
all things. Beware of lewd company, of young men that fear not
God, but indulge their vain appetites and lusts. Fly from whoredom,
and abhor all filthy living ; remembering that I, thy father, am to die
in defence of holy marriage. Another day, when God shall bless
thee, love and cherish the poor people, and count that thy chief riches
is to be rich in alms ; and when thy mother is far advanced in year!?,
forsake her not, but provide for her according to thy abilities, and see
that she want for nothing. And God will bless thee, and give thee
long life upon earth, and prosperity ; for which, now, upon my knees,
I pray through the merits of Jesus Christ."
Then turning to his wife, he said, " My dear wife, continue stead-
fast in the faith, fear, and love of God. Keep yourself undefiled by
popish idolatries and superstition. I have been unto you a faithful
yoke-fellow, and so have you been unto me ; for the which I pray
God to reward you, and doubt not, my dear, but God will reward you.
Now the time is come that I shall be taken from yoif, and you dis-
charged of the wedlock bond towards me; therefore I will give you
my counsel, that I think most expedient for you. You are yet a child-
bearing woman, and, therefore, it will be most convenient for you to
marry ; for, doubtless, you will not of yourself be able to support our
dear children, nor be out of trouble, till you be married. There-
fore, as soon as Providence shall point out some pious, honest man
who you think will support the poor children, be sure to marry him,
and live in the fear of God ; but by all means avoid idolatry and su-
perstition."
Having said these words, he fell down and prayed for his family ;
and then he gave his wife an English prayer book, as set forth by
King Edward VI. ; and to his son Thomas he gave a Latin book, con-
taining a collection of sentiments from the writings of the primitive
fathers, relating to the courage and constancy of the ancient martyrs.
The reader who attends to the conduct of this dying martyr, will
find that therp rs something in true religion far superior to deception.
DR. ROWLAND TAYLOR. 307
In the primitive times it was common for the martyrs, previous to
their sufTerings, to converse with their friends, and also to write epis-
tles to the churches at a distance. Some of those epistles are still
extant, and we know that they were frequently read in the churches
afterwards ; but no eloquence can exceed that of Dr. Taylor, in
taking leave of his wife and son. How sweetly do his expressions
flow from the heart ! What a manly dignity under his sufferings
does he display ! "What resignation to the will of God, and what a
firm reliance on divine Providence ! Here, indeed, grace triumphed
over human nature, and the soul showed its native splendour, al-
though confined within a mortal body.
The next morning, the 5th of February, so early as two o'clock,
the sheriff of London, attended by his officers, came to the Compter,
and took Dr. Taylor to the Woolpack, near Aldgate. His wife, hav-
ing some suspicion that he was to be taken out that morning, waited
all night in the church of St. Botolph, near Aldgate, having with her
a poor orphan girl, whom the doctor had brought up from infancy,
and one of her own children. When the sheriff and his company
came opposite the church, the orphan girl cried out, " O, my dear
father; mother, mother, here is my father led out." Then Mrs.
Taylor cried out, "Rowland! Rowland! where art thou?" for the
morning was extremely dark. To this Dr. Taylor answered, " Here
I am, but I am confined." The sheriff's officers wanted to hurry him
away ; but the sheriff, who had more humanity, ordered them to let
him speak with his wife.
She then came to him. when, taking his wife and daughter, with the
orphan girl, by the hands, he kneeled down, and prayed Avith them ;
which, when the sheriff, and the other persons present, sav/, they
shed tears. Prayers being over, he rose up, and taking his wife by
the hand, bid her have good comfort, for he had a clear conscience.
" God," said he, " will provide a father for my children, but let them
be steadfast in the faith." To which his wife answered, " God be
with you, my dear Rowland, and I will, with his grace, meet you at
Hadleigh."
He was then put into a chamber, with four ol" the yeomen of the
guard, and the sheriff's officers. As soon as he entered the chamber
he knelt down, and gave himself wholly to prayer. There, the sheriff,
seeing Mrs. Taylor, told her that she must not rpeak to her husband ;
but that she might go to kis house, and he would provide for her, so
that she should not want for any thing. To this she answered, that
" she would rather go to her mother's house," and two officers were
sent to conduct her thither.
This part of the sheriff's conduct doubtless arose from principles
of humanity ; for wha,^ man can see a wife and children weeping; over
a father and husband, condemned to a cruel death, for a disputable
offence, without shedding a tear of compassion?
Dr. Taylo'* renicined :;t the Woolpack till eleven in the forenoon,
when thp s^crjff ol T^ssex rame to receive him, and they prepared
to set out on hoiseback. As they came out of the gate of the inn,
John Hull, his o\^ servant, vvhom we have mentioned before, was
there w aiting, having with him Dr. Taylor's son Thomas ; John
lifted up the boy that he might see his father, and then set him on the
horse before him. Dr. Taylor, taking off his hat, said, " Good peo-
308 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
pie, this is my own son, begotten in lawful wedlock, and I bless God
for lawful matrimony." He then lifted up his eyes towards heaven,
and prayed for his son; laid his hat upon the boy's head, and blessed
him. After this he delivered him to John .Hull, whom he shook
by the hand, and said, " thou hast been the faithfulest servant ever
man had."
When they arrived at Brentwood, they made a close hood for Dr.
Taylor, having two holes for his eyes, and one for his mouth to breathe
at. They did this, that no man should know him or speak to him ;
which practice was frequently used in such cases. The evidence ol
their own consciences convinced them that they were leading innocent
people to the slaughter. Guilt creates fear, and thus does Satan re-
ward his vassals.
All the way Dr. Taylor was as joyful as if he had been going to take
possession of an estate ; and, indeed, how could it be otherwise ? He
knew he was suffering for the faith, and that the truth was able to sup-
port him ; and he anticipated a glorious reward from Him for whose
cause he suffered.
At Chelmsford they were met by the sheriff of Suffolk, who was to
take him into that county to be executed. While they were at supper,
the sheriff of Essex laboured earnestly with him to return to the popish
religion. He told him, " that as he was a man of universal learning,
so his death would be a great loss to the nation." The sheriff, what-
ever his own opinions were, said a great deal to Dr. Taylor, and fall-
ing before him on his knees, with the tears running down his cheeks,
earnestly begged of him to recant his opinions, and be reconciled to
the church ; promising that he, and all his friends, would procure his
pardon.
Dr. Taylor then took the cup in his hand, and looking to the com-
pany, particularly to the sheriff of Essex, said, "I heartily thank you for
your good will ; I have hearkened to your words, and minded well your
counsels ; and, to be plain with you, I do perceive that I have been de-
ceived myself, and am likely to deceive a great many in Hadleigh of
their expectations." At these words the whole company clapped their
hands with joy : "God bless you," said the sheriff of Essex, "keep
to that, it is the most comfortable word we have heard from you. Why
should you cast away yourself? Play a wise man's part, and then I
am certain you will find favour." Upon this Dr. Taylor replied, " I
am, as you see, a man of a very large body, which I thought should
have lain in Hadleigh churchyard, and there are a great number of
worms there who would have had the feasting, which no doubt they
wished for many a day ; but I know I am deceived," said he, " and the
worms are so too, for my body is to be burned to ashes, and they will
lose their feast."
When the sheriff and his companions heard him say this, they were
amazed at his constancy ; for the nearer his sufferings approached,
the more he was strengthened to endure them. In this he imitated our
blessed Redeemer, who, when he felt his father's wrath beginning to
be inflicted upon him, sweated, as it were, great drops of blood ; but
when led forth, and nailed to the cross, he looked around with compla-
cency, and convinced the spectators, that the glory of God shone
through his human nature.
Such has been the case of the martyrs in all ages and nations. Hu-
THOMAS TOMKINS. 309
man nature might, at first, sliudder, and shrink back at the thought
of the sufferings they were exposed to ; but their constancy increased
as the fiery trial drew near.
When the procession arrived at Aldham Common, where Dr. Taylor
was to be burnt, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and thanked God
that the last struggle was come, and he 'hoped he should be enabled
to go through with it.
He tore the hood from his face, that he might be seen by the nume-
rous spectators, many of whom had formerly been his parishioners.
He then began to speak to the people who were praying for him ; but
the officers thrust sticks into his mouth, and threatened to cut his
tongue out, unless he would promise to keep silence at the place of
execution.
When he had prayed, he kissed the stake, and got into a barrel part-
ly filled with pitch, which was placed for that purpose. Fire being
set to the pitch. Dr. Taylor continued praying in the most devout man-
ner, till one of the officers, more humane than the rest, knocked out
his brains with a halberd ; which put an end to his misery.
We have in this case an instance of popish superstition, in some re-
spects more violent than any we have yet taken notice of. Dr. Tay-
lor was not only a pious man, but he had been, for his knowledge of
the canon and civil laws, long esteemed as the glory of Cambridge.
He had, from his distinguished abilities and learning, confuted the
chancellor in his arguments concerning the marriage of the clergy ;
and, indeed, m all other respects, he was so well acquainted with the
ancient fathers, that he was with great propriety called "The Walking
Library." But no mercy can be shown, where religious rancour takes
place. There is something in such persecutions that shuts up the
bowels of compassion, even towards the nearest relations. Civil per-
secutors may occasionally relax into compassion ; but those who per-
secute from erroneous notions of religion, are strangers to every hu-
mane sensation ; and pant for the blood of those who diHer from them,
" even as the hart doth for the water brooks."
SECTION IV.
MARTYRDOMS OF NUMEROUS PERSONS IN VARIOUS PARTS OF ENGLAND.
Thomas Tomkins.
The first person we have to mention on the bloody list contained
in this section, was named Thomas Tomkins, a weaver, who lived with
great reputation, in the parish of St. Leonard, Shoreditch. Being ac-
cused of heresy, he was summoned before that merciless persecutor,
Bishop Bonner, who confined him, with many others, in the dungeons
of his palace at Fulham.
During his imprisonment he was treated by the bishop in a manner
not only unbecoming a prelate, but a man ; he several times beat hhn
with peculiar cruelty, and tore the greatest part of his beard from his
face, for no other reason but his refusing his assent to the doctrine of
transubstantiation.
310 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Another instance of this cruel bishop's inhumanity to Mr. Tomkins.
was exhibited before several gentlemen who came to visit him. The
bishop, findl.ig him inflexible, took hold of him by the wrist, and held
his hand over the flame of a wax candle, in order, if possible, to make
him deviate from those uncorrupted truths of the gospel he had so
strongly preserved. This punishment Mr. Tomkins submitted to with
great fortitude, till the veins burst, and water issuing from the hand,
flew into the face of a bystander, who was so dliected that he re-
quested the bishop to forbear, saying, he had sufficiently punished the
prisoner.
A few days after this, Mr. Tomkins was brought before the bishop,
at his consistory court, at St. Paul's, to whom he delivered the follow-
ing articles of confession in writing, sealed up, and signed with his
own hand :
" I, Thomas Tomkins, of the parish of St. Leonard, Shoreditch,
in the diocese of London, having confessed, and declared openly,
heretofore, to Edmund Bonner, bishop of London, mine ordinary,
that my belief hath been many years past, and is at this present, that
the body of our Saviour Jesus Christ is not, truly and in very deed,
in the sacrament of the altar, but only in heaven ; and so in heaven,
that it cannot now indeed be really and truly in the sacrament of
the altar :
"And, moreover, having likewise confessed and declared to my
said ordinary, openly, many times, that although the church, called
the Catholic church, hath allowed, and doth allow the mass and sa-
crifice made and done therein, as a wholesome, profitable, and godly
thing : yet my belief hath been many years past, and is at this pre-
sent, that the said mass is full of superstition, plain idolatry, and un-
profitable for the soul ; and so I have called it many times, and take
it at this present :
" Having also confessed and declared to my said ordinary, that
the sacrament of baptism ought to be only in the vulgar tongue, and
not otherwise ministered ; but also without such ceremonies as
are generally used in the Latin church, and otherwise not to be al-
lowed :
" Finally, being many and often times called before my said ordi-
nary, and talking with all, touching all my said confessions and de-
clarations, both by my said ordinary and divers other learned men,
as well his chaplains as others, and counselled by them all to em-
brace the church, and to recant mine error, in the premises, which
they told me was plain heresy, and manifest error ; do testify and de-
clare hereby, that I do and will continually stand to my said confes-
sion, declaration, and belief, in all the premises, and every part there-
of; and in no wise recant, or go from any part of the same. In wit-
ness whereof, I have subscribed and passed the writing, this 26th of
September, 1554."
Bishop Bonner, and the rest of the tribunal, strongly pressed Mr.
Tomkins to recant his errors, and return to the mother church : but
he only answered, " I was born and brought up in ignorance till
of late years, and now I know the truth, I will continue therein unto
death."
Finding him inflexible, they declared him a heretic, and ordered
the sheriff of London, who attended, to conduct him inimediately to
WILLIAM HUNTER. 311
Newgate. Here he remained till the 16th of March, 1555, when he
was conducted to Smithfield, and there burnt, triumphing in the midst
of the flames, and adding to the number of those martyrs who had
preceded him through the path of the fiery trial to the realms of im-
mortal gloiy.
William Hunter.
This pious young man was the son of poor, but honest and reli-
gious parents, who trained him up in the doctrines of the reformation,
and when at a proper age put him apprentice to one Thomas Taylor,
a silk weaver, in Coleman-street, London.
On the accession of Queen Mary, orders were issued to the priests
of every parish to summon all their parishioners to receive the com-
munion at mass, the Easter following, wtien young Hunter, who was
then only nineteen years of age, refusing to obey the summons, was
threatened with being brought before the bishop to answer for his
disobedience.
In consequence of this, his master, fearful of incurring ecclesiasti-
cal censure, desired he would leave him, at least for a-'^time ; upon
which he quitted his service, and went to his father, at Brentwood, in
Essex.
During his stay here, he one day went into the chapel, and seeing
the Bible lay on the desk, he opened it, and began to read. Being
observed by an officer of the bishop's court, he severely reprimanded
him, and said, "Why meddlest thou with the Bible? understandest
thou what thou readest? canst thou expound the scriptures?" To
which Hunter replied, " I do not presume to do it ; but finding the
Bible here, I read it for my comfort and edification."
The officer then informed a neighbouring priest of the liberty Hun-
ter had taken in reading the Bible, who immediately sent for him, and
severely chid him, saying, "Sirrah, who gave thee leave to read the
Bible, and cxpoilnd it?" He answered as he had done to the officer ;
and, on the priest's saying, it became him not to meddle with the
scriptures, he frankly declared his resolution to read them as long as
he lived. The priest upbraided him as a heretic ; but he boldly
denied the charge. Being asked his opinion concerning the corpo-
real p'-esence in the sacrament, he replied, that he esteemed the bread
and ' ane but as figures, and looked upon the sacrament as an institu-
tion in remembrance of the death and sufferings of our Lord and
Sa''iiqr, Jesus Christ, On this the priest openly declared him a
h"^etic, and threatened to complain of him to the bishop.
A neighbouring justice named Brown, having heard that young
Hunter maintained heretical principles, sent for his father to inquire
into the particulars. Ths old man told him, that his son had left him,
and that he knew not whither he was gone. 1 he justice, not belie-
ving what he said, threatened to commit him to prison, unless he would
immediately cause his son to be apprehended, and brought before
him. To this he replied, with tears in his eyes, " Would you have
me seek out my son tf) be burned ?"
He was, however, obliged to go in quest of his son ; when meeting
him by accident, William asked his father if he was seeking for him ;
to which the old man answered, with tears, in the affirmative, and that
it was by order of the justice, who threatened to put him in prison
312 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
The son, to secure his father from any danger on his account, said he
was ready to accompany him home, which he accordingly did.
The next day he was apprehended by the constable of the parish.
,vho put him in the stocks for twenty-four hours, and then took him
before the justice. On his arrival, the justice called for a Bible,
turned to the sixth chapter of St. John, and desired him to give his
opinion of the meaning of it, as it related to the sacrament of the altar.
Hunter gave the same explanation as he had done to the priest ;
and persisting in his denial of the corporeal presence in the eucharist,
the justice upbraided him with heresy, and wrote an account of his
conduct to the bishop of London.
In consequence of this, young Hunter was summoned to appear
at the consistory court held at St. Paul's. He accordingly attended
at the time appointed, when he was severely reproved for having fallen
from the catholic faith, and was exhorted to return to the same.
To this he boldly answered, that he had not fallen from the catholic
faith, but believed and confessed it with all his heart.
He was then desired by the bishop to recant what he had said
concerning the sacrament of the altar ; but he declared, that by the
help of God he would still continue to persist in the faith he had
hitherto maintained, and avowed.
Being urged still farther, and promised that if he would recant he
should go home unhurt, he said to the bishop, *' My lord, if you will
let me alone, and leave me to my own conscience, I will return to my
father, and dwell with him, or else with my master again, and will
keep my opinion to myself."
The bishop answered, "I am content, so that thou wilt go to church,
receive, and be confessed." This Hunter peremptorily refused ; upon
which, after several farther efforts to bring him over, the bishop or-
dered him to be put in the stocks, where he continued two days and
nights, having only a crust of brown bread, and a cup of water, given
to him for refreshment.
At the expiration of the two days the bishop went to him, and find-
ing the bread and water lay by him untouched, he ordered some of
his servants to take him out of the stocks, and let him breakfast with
them ; but they evaded the bishop's request, thinking it great profa-
nation that such excellent Christians as they were, should eat with a
vile heretic.
After this he was repeatedly brought before the bishop, who, some-
times by soothing him, and sometimes by threats, endeavoured to
bring him to a recantation ; but all his efforts proved ineffectual. In
consequence of this the persecuting prelate passed sentence on him,
which was, that he should be remanded to Newgate for a time, from
whence he should be removed to Brentwood ; " where," said the
bishop, " thou shalt be burned."
A few days after this the bishop sent for him again, and promised
him preferment if he Avould recant : to which he replied, " My lord, I
thank you for your great offer; but if you cannot enforce my recan-
tation from scripture, I cannot, in my conscience, turn from God for
the love of the world, for I count all things but dung and dross for
the love of Christ."
He was then carried back to Newgate, and in a few days removed
t0 Brentwood, where he was confined in an inn till the day of his
execution. During this time he was visited by many of his neigh
PIGOT, KN[GHT, AND LAWRENCE. 313
bours and acquaintances, all of whom he exhorted to beware ol po
pish superstition and idolatry.
On the morning of the 27th of March, 1555, the sheriff gave orders
for the necessary preparations to be made for his execution. In the
mean time the sheriff's son, who was his friend, visited liim at the inn,
and encouraged him not to fe?r the men who were making prepara-
tions for his death ; to whom he said, " that, thank God, he was not in
the least intimidated, for that he had cast up his account, and well
knew the happy consequences that would attend his strict adherence
to the cause of Christ."
A short time after this he was led from the inn to the stake, between
one of the sheriff's officers, and his brother Robert. In their way he
was met by his father, who, wiih tears flowing from his eyes, said to
him, " God be with thee, son William." To which he replied, " God
be with you, good father, and be of good cheer, for I trust we shall
meet again, with exceeding great joy."
"When he arrived at the place of execution, he kneeled on a fagot,
and repeated the 51st psalm, till he came to these words : " The sacri-
fice of God is a contrite spirit : a contrite and a broken heart, O God,
thou wilt not despise." He was then interrupted by one of the offi-
cers, who told him the translation was wrong, the words being " an
humble spirit;" but he said the translation was " a contrite heart," on
which he was told that the heretics translated books as they pleased.
The sheriff then showed him a letter from the queen, containing
his pardon if he would recant ; but he refused life on such terms,
went up to the stake, and was chained to it, saying to the spectators,
" Good people, pray for me, and make quick des])atch ; pray for me,
while you see me alive, and I will pray for yon."
He then took a fagot, and embraced it in his arms ; and on a
priest's offering him a book, said, " Away, thou false prophet ! be-
ware of him, good people, and come away from their abominations,
lest ye be {.artakers <)f their plagues." The priest cried out, " As
thou burnest here, so shall thou burn in hell !" " Thou liest, thou
false prophet !" exclaimed Hunter ; " away with thee !"
As soon as the fire was kindled, our martyr gave his prayer book
to his brother, who, to encourage him, reminded him of the passion
of his dear Redeemer, and bid him be of good cheer : to which he
replied, " I fear neither torture nor death ; Lord Jesus, receive my
departing spirit !" The fire burning rapidly, he was soon consumed,
yielding up his life, with patience and humility, to Him who gave it,
and in testimony of the truth of that God who cannot change, but
whose word is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever.
On the same day that Hunter was executed, Thomas Highed and
Thomas Causton, two gentlemen of Essex, suffered the like fate ; the
former being burnt at Horndon on the Hill, and the latter at Ray
leigh, both in that county.
William Pigot, Stephen Knight, and the Rev. John Lawrence.
These three pious Christians having been informed against by the
emissaries of Bonner and Gardiner, as maintaining religious opinions
contrary to the doctrine and practice of the holy mother church,
were summoned to appear before Bishop Bonner, at his consistory
court in London, where they were severally questioned concerning
tJieir faith of the corporeal presence in the sacrament.
314 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Having respectively answered and subscribed that the elements
were not substantially, but figurativeJy, the body and blood of Christ,
in that holy ordinance, they were severely reprimanded by the court,
admonished to recant their heretical opinions, and for that time dis-
missed.
A few days after, they were again examined concerning the same
tenet, when they made the like declaration as before ; in consequence
of which the bishop addressed himself to the two laymen, and with
an affected concern for their spiritual and temporal interests, warmly
exhorted them to reject their heresies, and not expose themselves to
death here and damnation hereafter, by obstinately persisting in
disobedience to the holy see ; but these plain Christians were too
well grounded in the doctrines of Christ's pure gospel, to be moved
from their adherence to the true faith. They, therefore, told the
bishop, that they could not recant consistently with the dictates of
their consciences, nor would they abjure the opinions to which they
had subscribed.
After this Bishop Bonner entered into argument with Lawrence, the
priest, alone, and having demanded of what order he was, he an-
swered, that he was admitted to priest's orders eighteen years past,
that he had been formerly a black friar, and that he was now be-
trothed to a maid, whom he intended to marry.
The bishop then asked him his opinion of the corporeal presence
in the sacrament ; to which he replied, that " it was an institution of
our blessed Lord, in commemoration of his death and sufferings ; and
that those were greatly deceived, who believed that his body was
verily present in the same, since he had long before ascended into
heaven, and was placed at the right hand of the glorious majesty ot
the Father."
Mr. Lawrence was, for the present, dismissed ; but, a few days
after, he, with Pigot and Knight, were again summoned before the
bishop, who, with his usual hypocrisy, exhorted them to recant, em-
brace the Roman Catholic faith, and not be the wilful cause of their
own destruction. But no argument could induce them to recede in a
single point ; all of them declaring they would abide by their opi-
nions, because they were founded on the word of God, whereas the
other was merely of human invention.
From this frank declaration Bishop Bonner proceeded to pass sen-
tence on them as irreclaimable heretics, and then degraded Lawrence
with the usual ceremonies. After which they were all three delivered
to the sheriff, who conducted them to Newgate.
On the 28th of March, 1555, being the day appointed for the exe
cution of Pigot and Knight, they were removed early in the morning
to the respective places destined for their execution, the former at
Braintree, and the latter at Maiden, in Essex. When Knight arrived
at the stake, he kneeled down, and, with an audible voice, said the
following excellent prayer :
" O Lord Jesus Christ ! for whose love I leave Avi?lingly this life,
and desire rather the bitter death of thy cross, with the loss of all
earthly things, than to abide the blasphemy of thy most holy name,
or ts obey men in breaking thy holy commandment; thou seest,
O Lord, that where I might live in worldly wealth to worship a false
God, and honour thine enemy, I choose rather the torment of tne
DR. ROBERT FARRAR 315
body, and the loss of this life, and have coimted all other things but
vile dust and dung, that I might win thee; which death is dearer unto
me than thousands of gold and silver. Such love, O Lord, hast thou
laid up in my breast, that I hunger for thee as the deer that is wound-
ed desireth the pasture. Send thy holy comforter, O Lord, to aid,
comfort, and strengthen this weak piece of earth, which is empty of
all strength of itself. Thou rememberest, O Lord, that I am but dust,
and able to do nothing that is good ; therefore, O Lord, as of thine
accustomed goodness and love thou hast invited me to this banquet,
and accounted me worthy to drink of thine own cup amongst thine
elect ; even so give me strength, O Lord, against this thine element,
which as to my sight it is most irksome and terrible, so to my mind it
may, at thy commandment, (as an obedient servant,) be sweet and
pleasant; that through the strength of thy holy spirit, I may pass
through the rage of this fire into thy bosom according to thy promise,
and for this mortal receive an immortal, and for this corruptible put
on incorruption. Accept this burnt ofiering, O Lord, not for the
sacrifice, but for thy dear Son's sake, my Saviour, for whose testi
mony I ofler this free-will ofiering, with all my heart, and with all mr
soul. O heavenly Father, forgive me my sins, as I forgive all the
world. O sweet Son of God, my Saviour, spread thy wings over me.
0 blessed and Holy Ghost, through whose merciful inspiration I am
come hither, conduct me into everlasting life. Lord, into thy hands
1 commend my spirit. Amen."
Both these martyrs suflered with amazing fortitude and resignation,
proving to the spectators, that, " as is the day" of the sincere be-
liever, " so likewise will be his strength."
The next day, March 29th, the Rev. John Lawrence suffered at
Colchester. He was carried to the place of execution in a chair,
being unable to walk, from the pressure of the irons with which his
legs were bound, and the weakness of his body from want of proper
nourishment while in prison. The chair was fastened to the stake
and he sat in it, for some time, with great composure, praying to God
to enable him to undergo the fiery trial ; at length the fagots were
lighted, and he triumphantly expired in the cause of his glorious mas-
ter, in sure and certain hope of an eternal existence in heaven.
Dr. Robert Farrar, Bishop of St David's.
The emissaries of the persecuting bishops had, for some time
fixed their eyes on this worthy and pious prelate, who, not only in the
former reign, but also after the accesdon of Mary, had been particu-
larly zealous in promoting the reformed doctrines, and exploding the
errors of popish idolatry. Information of this being given to the
bishop of Winchester, then lord chancellor, Dr. Farrar, with several
others, was summoned to appear before him, and the other commis-
sioners.
After some previous harangue, the bishop of Winchester told him,
that the queen and parliament had restored religion to the state in
which it was at the beginning of the reign of Henry VHL ; that he
was in the queen's debt, but her majesty would cancel the same, and
re-admit him to her favour, if he would return to the holy catholic
church.
Undismayed by this information, Dr. Farrar answered, that with
316 BOOK OF MARTYRS
respect to the debt, he submitted it to the lord treasurer ; but his lord
ship might well remember, that upon two former occasions he had
solemnly sworn never to acknowledge the papal jurisdiction over the
realm of England, and therefore it was needless to rehearse what he
had already so peremptorily declared.
After a long debate, Gardiner sternly demanded, if he would recant,
and acknowledge the papal supremacy ; to which Farrar, with a reso-
lution becoming a true Christian, and worthy bishop, expressed a de-
gree of contempt, that his lordship should even think he would recede
from an oath he had made to his Maker : an oath he could not break,
consistently with his duty to God, and his regard to the interest of the
reformed religion in his native country.
The haughty Gardiner was so highly incensed at this spirited beha-
viour in Dr. Farrar, that, according to his usual inhuman custom, he
treated him with scurrility, calling him " froward knave," and telling
him, that he should know his fate in a (ew days. To this Farrar
coolly replied, that he was ever ready to obey his summons, but would
never retract what he had solemnly sworn, at the instigation of him,
or any other man whatever.
The examination being over, Dr. Farrar was ordered to Newgate,
where he was a short time confined, and then sent into Wales, there
to receive his sentence of condemnation.
On his arrival at Carmarthen, he was delivered to the sheriff of the
county, who took him before Henry Morgan, the popish bishop of St.
David's, and Constantine, the public notary, by whom he was commit-
ted to the custody of the keeper of Carmarthen gaol.
A {ew days after his commitment to that prison, he was sent for
by Bishop Morgan, who exhorted him to recant, on condition of
which he assured him of the queen's clemency, as well as prefer-
ment to an office of dignity in the chi.rch. But our martyr was in-
flexible : he would not listen to any proposals derogatory to the oath
he had taken ; upon which Bishop Morgan asked him the two follow-
ing questions :
" 1. Whether he believed the marriage of priests to be allowed by
the laws of the holy church ?
" 2. Whether he believed, that in the blessed sacrament of the altar,
after the words of consecration duly pronounced by the priest, the
very body and blood of Christ is really and substantially contained,
without the substance of bread and wine?"
Dr. Farrar refused to answer to these questions, unless the bishop
produced a commission, authorizing him to ask them ; upon which he
was remanded to prison.
At length, after various disputes with Bishop Morgan, he appealed
from him, as an incompetent judge, to Cardinal Pole ; notwithstanding
which, sentence was pronounced against him as a heretic, and he was
delivered over to the secular power, having been previou&ly degraded
by Morgan.
Thus, for his steadfast adherence to the uncorrupted doctrines of
the reformation, and resolute denial of the papal jurisdiction in these
realms, was Dr. Farrar condemned, degraded, delivered up to the
secular power, and, on the 30th of March, being the eve of Passion
Sunday, in the bloody year 1555, executed in the market-place of
Carmarthen, amidst a numerous crowd of spectators.
RAWLINS WHITE. SI 7
The following circumstance is a convincing proof what consiancy
and resolution this good man possessed, and how determined he was
to retain those religious principles to the last, which, throughout his
life, he had strongly adhered to.
The son of a person of distinction visiting him a {e\v days before
his execution, and lamenting the cruel fate that awaited him, the doc-
tor told him, that if he saw him once stir in the pains of burning, he
might then give no credit to his doctrine, but look upon it as the eflects
of enthusiasm.
He resolutely fulfilled his promise, and greatly surprised his friend,
who came to condole his fate : for he stood motionless in the midst of
the flames, holding both his hands till they were burnt to the stumps,
at which time one of the officers struck him on the head with a staff,
and put a period to his life.
As Dr. Farrar gave many signal instances of his sincere and unsha-
ken zeal for the honour of Christ, and exaltation of his name, during
life, so, at his death, he suffered and expired with a degree of Chris-
tian heroism, equal to that of any of the noble army of martyrs.
Martyrdom of Rawlins White, a poor Fisherman of South Wales.
To such a height did the rage and malice of popish persecutors ar-
rive, during the reign of Mary, that they not only vented their fury on
men of eminence and learning, who espoused the protestant cause,
but the meanest and most ignorant of the people, who would not sub-
mit to the papal yoke, were arraigned at their bloody tribunals, and
put to death for no other cause, but that of professing the truth as it is
contained in the scriptures.
Rawlins White, (the poor man whose sufferings we are about to re-
late,) had been so attentive to the preaching of the gospel during the
reign of Edward VI. that he had attained to a very competent know-
ledge of the holy scriptures, and became a zealous asserter of the
protestant doctrines, having wholly renounced the superstition and
idolatry of popery, and conformed to the public worship of God, ac-
cording to the English common prayer-book.
Being thus converted to the true faith of Christ, he took great pains
to instruct his son in the same, causing him to read a portion of the
sacred scriptures every night and morning, till he likewise became
well grounded in the principles of the true religion, as contained in
the gospel.
White was not only desirous of acquiring saving knowledge him-
self, but also of communicating it to others ; insomuch that he took
every opportunity of visiting his neighbours, and endeavouring to in-
struct those, whom he found desirous of obtaining a knowledge of the
truth.
He continued those devout and holy exercises in a public manner,
till the death of King Edward, when popery being restored, and the
pure religion discouraged and restrained, he used to meet his friends
privately, pray, and encourage them to liold fast to the truth. At
length he was apprehended, by one of the officers of the tow^n, on a
suspicion of heresy, who taking him before the bishop of Llandaff, he
was, by that prelate, committed to prison.
During his confinement, several of his friends sent him money ; and
he was visited by many, whom he instructed in the faith of Chri.jt,
3J8 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
and exhorted to beware of popish emissaries, as wolves in sheep's
clothing-
After a long imprisonment, the bishop of Llandaff summoned "White
to appear before him, and endeavoured to bring him over to idola-
try and superstition ; but all his exhortations proving ineffectual, he
told him in anger, that he must come to a resolution either to recant
his heretical opinions, or endure the rigour of the laAvs enacted
against those who maintained tenets repugnant to the doctrines of the
holy see.
On the day appointed for his examination, the bishop, in the pre-
sence of his chaplains, and many others, assembled in the chapel, de-
clared that White was known not only to maintain heretical principles
himself, but to inculcate the same among his acquaintance. Then
addressing himself to the prisoner, he told him, that he had frequently,
since his first warning, been admonished to relinquish his heretical
tenets, and yet he had always turned a deaf ear to the most salutary
advice. He added, that out of clemency they had once more sent for
him, mildly to endeavour to bring him to an humble sense of his er-
rors ; and assured him that, upon due penitence for the crimes he had
committed, both against God and the laws of his sovereign, they were
disposed to show him mercy : but that if, in spite of the royal cle-
mency, and the admonition of the reverend fathers, he persisted in
his heresies, they were determined to execute on him the utmost
rigour of the law, as a most damnable and obstinate heretic.
White, without the least sign of fear at the peremptory declaration
of the bishop, told his lordship, that he blessed God he was a Chris-
tian, and held no doctrines contrary to the divine mind and will as
revealed in the scriptures of truth : if he did, he wished to be con-
rinced of the same out of the divine word, to which he determined
ever most implicitly to conform.
After much more exhortation, the bishop assured him, that if he
would not recant, he must condemn him as a heretic. To which
White replied, that he might proceed as he thought proper, but that
he could not condemn him as a heretic, as he did not maintain any
opinion that was not supported by the word of God.
The bishop then desired the people present to join with him in prayer,
that it would please God to turn White's heart, and bring him to the
acknowledgment cf the true religion.
Our martyr applauded this behaviour of the bishop, as becoming
his profession, assuring him that if the request was agreeable to the
divine will, God would, doubtless, hear and grant the same ; and that
while the bishop was praying to his God, he himself would pray to
his God, who he knew would hear and perform his desire.
Accordingly they all went to private prayer, which being finished,
the bishop asked him how ho found himself disposed in his mind ?
He replied, " The very same as before."
The bishop, incensed that no change could be wrought upon him,
was about to read the sentence, when he was advised first to say mass,
during which ceremony. White standing at the door of the choir, cried
out to the populace, " Bear witness that I bow not to this idol,"
meaning the host whicli the priest held over his head.
Mass being performed, he was again warmly admonished to re-
cant, but all exhortation was ineffectual ; the bishop, therefore, read
REV. GEORGE MARSH. 319
the definitive sentence, after which he was carried to Cardifl', and im-
prisoned in a place called Cockmarel, a most filthy and loathsome
dungeon, where he continued till the writ for his execution came from
London.
Upon the day appointed for terminating his life, which was March
30, 1555, he was brought from prison, and in his way to the place ap-
pointed for the bloody scene, met his wife and children, wringing
their hands, and most bitterly lamenting his approaching fate. This
aflecting sight drew tears from his eyes ; but soon recollecting him-
self, and striking his breast with his hand, he said, " Ah ! flesh, stayest
thou me, wouldest thou fain prevail? Well, do what thou canst, by
God's grace thou shalt not get the victory."
As soon as he arrived at the stake, he fell on his knees, and kissed
the earth, saying, " Earth to earth, and dust to dust ; thou an mj
mother, to thee I must return."
When he was fastened to the stake, and the straw, reeds, and w^ood
were placed round him, a priest, appointed for the purpose, stood up
and harangued the spectators, who were very numerous, it being
market-day.
The priest, having finished his discourse, in which he inveighed
against the opinion of the protestants concerning the sacrament of
the altar, our martyr rebuked him, proved* his doctrine to be false,
and cited, as his authority, those words of our Lord, "Do this in re-
membrance of me."
The fire being kindled, he was soon surrounded by the flames, in
the midst of which this good old man (for he was sixty years of age)
held up his hands till the sinews shrunk, crying earnestly, " O Lord,
receive my soul! O Lord, receive my spirit!" The flames were so
vehement about his legs, that they were almost consumed, before the
upper part of his body was injured by the fire ; notwithstanding which
he bore his sufferings with the greatest composure and resignation,
cheerfully resigning his soul into the hands of Him who gave it, in
sure and certain hopes of being rewaided for his constancy with a
crown of eternal life.
Martyrdom of the Rev. George Marsh.
This eminent and pious divine was descended from poor, but honest
and religious parents, who educated him, from his earliest years, in
the principles of the reformed religion ; so that when he arrived at
manhood, he was well versed in the doctrines of the pure gospel of
Chris.t.
At his first entrance into the business of life he followed the occu-
pation of farming, and by his honest endeavours maintained his fa-
mily with decency and reputation for some years ; but on the decease
of his v/ife, being disposed to study, he placed his children with his
father, quitted his farm, and went to Cambridge, where he made such
a progress in literature, that he soon entered into holy orders.
He officiated as curate in several parishes in the county of Lancas-
ter, kept a school at Dean, and was a zealous promoter of the true
religion, ^.s well as a vigorous opposer of the idolatries of the church
of Rome, during the reign of King Edward VL But when popery
igain raised its destructive head, he, among many others, became the
object of its persecution, as one that propagated doctrines contrary
320 BOOK OF MARTYRS
to the infallible church, and therefore liable to the severest censure
and punishment.
Mr. Marsh, on hearing that search was made after him, absconded
for some time, and in his retirement often deliberated with himself,
whether he should go abroad to save his life, or surrender himself up,
in order to ward off the mischief which threatened his mother and
brother, who were suspected of having concealed him.
During this unsettled state of his mind, he consulted with his
friends, and earnestly sought direction of God, that he might be
guided in the way which most conduced to His glory, and his own
spiritual and eternal interest.
At leng^th, thinking that flight would evince cowardice in the best
of causes, he determined, by the grace of God, to abide by the con-
sequence, and accordingly surrendered himself to the earl of Derby,
at his seat at Latham, in the county of Lancaster.
When he was brought into the earl's presence, he was charged
with propagating heresy, and sowing sedition among the peoph ;
but he denied the charge, and declared, that he preached no other
doctrine than what was contained in the word of God, and that he
always enforced allegiance to his sovereign according to the will of
God.
Being asked to deliver a summary of his belief, he declared, that
he believed in God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, according to
the creeds of the apostles, the council of Nice, and the saints Atha-
nasius, Austin, and Ambrose.
A Romish priest, who was present, then proceeded to inquire his
opinion concerning the favourite tenet of the church of Rome, rela-
ting to the sacrament. Marsh answered, in general, that he believed
whosoever received the holy sacrament of the body and blood of
Christ, according to his own appointment, did eat and drink his body
and blood, with all the benefits arising from the same, because oui
Lord was ever present at his own ordinances.
This general reply not appearing satisfactory, the inquisitors de
scended to particulars, and peremptorily demanded his opinion, whe-
ther or not the elements were changed into the very body and blood
of Christ after consecration. Our martyr briefly observed, that what
he believed he had already declared, and desired them not to propose
to him such hard and unprofitable questions, in order to endanger his
life, and, as it were, to suck from him his very blood.
Incensed at this reply, the earl told him, that instead of seeking his
destruction, he meant to preserve his life in this world, and secure his
happiness in that which is to come, by converting him from damnable
errors and heresies, and bringing him over to the holy inother-church,
out of the pale of which there was no salvation.
After many questions and exhortations, finding he still persevered
in the faith which opposed that of the " infallible churcli," the earl
gave him pen and ink, and ordered him to write down his belief con-
cerning the sacrament of the altar ; and on his writing the same
words he had before delivered, he was commanded to be more par-
ticular, when he wrote only the following : " Further 1 knt w not."
This resolute behaviour exposed him to the keenest resentment of
his popish persecutors, who committed him to prison, and suflferrd no
REV. GEORGE MARSH. 321
one to come near him but tlie keeper, who broujjlit him daily the
scanty allowance of the place.
Various attempts were made, during his confinement, to bring him
to a recantation ; but as he still remained fixed and determined in his
faith, they administered to him the four following articles, and the earl
declared, if he would not subscribe them, he should be imprisoned,
and proceeded against with the utmost severity.
" 1. Whether the mass now used in the church of England was
according to Christ's institution ; and with faith, reverence, and de-
votion, to be heard and seen ?
" 2. Whether Almighty God, by the words pronounced by the
priest, did change the bread and wine, after the words of consecra-
tion, into the body and blood of Christ, whether it were received or
reserved ?
" 3. Whether the lay-people ought to receive but under the form
of bread only, and that the one kind was sufficient for them ?
" 4. Whether confession to the priest now used in England was
godly and necessary ?"
Having retired for some time to consider of these articles, he re-
turned, and delivered his opinion of them as follows :
The first he absolutely denied.
The second he answered in the very words he had before written.
With respect to the third, he declared that lay-people, according-
to the institution of Christ, ought to receive under both kinds, and
that, therefore, to receive under one kind only was not sufficient.
To the last he observed, that though auricular confes^sion was good
means to instruct ignorant people, it was not necessary to salvation,
because not commanded by God.
To these answers he added, that his faith in Christ, founded on the
infallible word of the only living and true God, he never would deny
at the instance of any living creature, or through fear of any punish-
ment whatsoever.
He was afterwards committed to Lancaster gaol, laid in irons, and
arraigned at the bar with the common felons, where the persecutors
endeavoured to extort from him information of several persons in that
county, whom they suspected of maintaining heretical opinions; but
nothing could prevail with him to utter a word that might endanger
the lives or liberties of his faithful brethren in Christ.
He was severely reprimanded for reading aloud to the people (who
came in crowds every morning and evening under his prison window)
the litany and prayers of the reformed church, together with select
passages of holy writ in the English tongue, which they termed
" preaching," and, therefore, deemed criminal.
After remaining some weeks in confinement at Lancaster, he was
removed to Chester, and placed in the bishop's custody, when his
lordship frequently conferred with him, and used his utmost endea-
vours to bring him to an acknowledgment of the corporeal presence
in the sacrament of the altar, the mass, confession, and, in short, all
the tenets and practices of the church of Rome.
When the bishop found he would not assent to a single point, he
remanded him to prison ; and in a few days summoned him before
him in the cathedral church of Chester, where, in the presence of the
mavor, chancellor, and principal inhabitants of that city, both laity
21
322 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
and clergy, he caused him to take a solemn oath, to answer truly to
sucli articles as might be alleged against him.
After he was sworn, the chancellor accused him of having preach
ed and published most heretically and blasphemously, within the pa-
rishes of Dean, Eccles, Berry, and many other parishes within the
bishop's diocese, directly against the pope's authority, the catholic
church of Rome, the mass, and the sacrament of the altar, with many
other articles.
To all these charges Mr. Marsh answered, that he had neither he-
retically or blasphemously preached or published against any of the
articles, but as occasion sex-ved ; and as his conscience obliged him to
maintain the truth, as declared in God's word, and as all then present
had acknowledged in the preceding reign.
Being examined as to every particular article, he modestly answer-
ed, according to the doctrine publicly taught in the reign of King
Edward VI.
After a further confinement of three weeks in prison, Marsh was
again brought into the cathedral, where the chancellor made a formal
harangue on the bishop's care of his flock, " in order to prevent in-
fection from scabby sheep," and the like ; which being ended, the
former articles were propounded to him, to which he severally an
swered in the negative.
Being charged with having declared that the church and doctrine
taught and set forth in King Edward's time was the true church, anu
that the church of Rome is not the true Catholic church, he ackncw
iedged the declaration, and ratified it by a repetition.
Several persons present taking occasion to ask him, as he denieo
the bishop of Rome's authority in England, whether Linus, Anacle-
tus, and Clement, who wore bishops of Rome, were not good men ,
he replied in the affirmative, but reminded them that they claimed no
more authority in England, than the archbishop of Canterbury dotn
in Rome.
As this observation highly reflected on the validity of the papal su-
premacy, the bishop was so incensed, that he gave Marsh very abusive
language, calling him, " a most damnable, irreclaimable, unpardona-
ble heretic."
In return for this, Mr. Marsh mildly expostulated with the bishop,
telling him, if he could be persuaded, in his own conscience, that the
articles proposed to him were founded on God's word, he would gladly
yield in every point, declaring that he held no heretical opinion, bui
utterly abhorred every kind of heresy ; and then called all present tu
bear witness, that in the articles of religion he held no other opiniou
than what was by law established, and publicly taught in England, iii
the time of King Edward the Sixth ; and that, in such religion and
doctrine, by the grace of God, he would live and die.
He was then, for the last time, asked, whether he would stand to
these opinions, being full of heresies, or forsake them, and return to
the catholic church ; and on his heartily declaring he would continue
steadfast and immoveable in the faith of God's word, nor ever return
to any church that was not founded on scripture authority, the bishop
Uegan to read his sentence of condemnation, but was interrupted by
the chancellor, in order to give him another opportunity of i*ecanting.
He absolutely withstood ^be earnest entreaties of several people,
REV. GEORGE MARSH. 323
who desired him to accept of the proffered mercy ; nor could even the
repeated exhortations of the bishop and chancellor prevail with this
eminent servant of Christ, to deny his Lord and Master, and submit to
the usurpation of cruel, tyrannical men.
All endeavours proving ineffectual, the bishop proceeded in pass-
ing sentence, w^hich being ended, Marsh was delivered up to the she-
riffs, who conveyed him to the North-Gate prison, where he was con-
fined in a dungeon till the day appointed for his execution.
On the 4th of April, 1555, this firm believer was led to the place
appointed for his martyrdom, amidst a crowd of lamenting spectators.
It was near a village called Spittle-Boughton, at a small distance from
Chester. As soon as he arrived at the place, the chamberlain of that
city showed him a box, containing the queen's pardon, on condition
that he would recant. Our martyr coolly answered, " that he would
gladly accept the same, for he loved the queen : but as it tended to
pluck him from God, who was King of kings, and Lord of lords, he
could not receive it on such terms."
Then turning to the spectators, he told thern the cause of the cruel
death which awaited him, and exhorted them to remain steadfast in
the faith of Christ ; which done, he kneeled on the ground, directed
his prayer to God for strength equal to the fiery trial, arose, and was
chained to the stake, having a number of fagots under him, and a cask
full of pitch and tar hanging over his head.
As soon as he was chained to the stake, he again addressed himself
earnestly in prayer to God ; and the fire being kindled, he suffered,
for a considerable time, the most exquisite torture, his flesh being so
broiled, and pufied up, that those who stood before him could not see
the chain Avith which he Avas fastened. At length, with the utmost
fortitude, he spread forth his arm, and said, v/ith a voice to be univer-
sally heard by the spectators, " Father of heaven, have mercy upon
me." Soon after which he yielded up his spirit into the hands of Him
who gave it.
Thus died, in confirmation of the gospel of Christ, a sincere be-
liever, raising, by his patient resignation, the wonder and astonish-
tient of all that saw him sufler, the greater part of whom cried out
with ecstacy, " Of a truth God is with him."
Margaret Policy, first Female Martyr in England.
Such was the fury of bigoted zeal during the reign of Mary, that
even the more tender sex did not escape the resentment of the Ro-
mish persecutors. These monsters in human form, embraced every
opportunity of exercising their cruelty, tyranny, and usurpation ; nor
could youth, age, or sex, impress on their minds the least feelings ot
humanity.
Information being given against Margaret Policy, to Maurice,
bishop of Rochester, she was brought before him, w^hen his lordship,
according to the pontifical solemnity of the church of Rome, rose
from his chair, in solemn parade, and harangued her as follows :
" We, Maurice, by the sufferance of God, bishop of Rochester, pro-
ceeding of our mere office in a cause of heresy, against thee, Marga-
ret Polley, of the parish of Popingberry, in our diocese and jurisdic-
tion of Rochester, do lay, and object against thee, all and singular the
ensuing articles :
324 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
" To these, all and singular, we require of thee a true, a full, ana
plain answer, by virtue of thine oath thereupon to be given."
The oath being administered by the official, the bishop looked
steadfastly at the woman, and demanded of her a peremptory answei
to each of the following articles.
1. " Are not those heretics, who maintain and hold other opinions
than our holy mother and catholic church doth ?"
To this she replied, " They are, indeed, heretics and grossly de-
ceived, who hold and maintain doctrines contrary to the will of God,
contained in the holy scriptures, which I sincerely believe were writ-
ten by holy men immediately taught and instructed by the Holy Ghost."
2. " Do you hold and maintain that in the sacrament of the altar,
under the form of bread and wine, there is not the very body and
blood of Christ, and that the said body is verily in heaven only, and
not in the sacrament ?"
She answered, " "What I have learned from the holy scriptures,
those living oracles of God, 1 do and will steadfastly maintain, viz.
that the very body which was crucified for the sin« of all true be
lievers, ascended into heaven, is there placed at the right hand of the
majesty on high ; that such body has ever since remained there,
and therefore cannot, according to my belief, be in the sacrament of
the altar.
" I believe that the bread and wine in the sacrament are to be re-
ceived as symbols and representatives of the body and blood ol
Christ, but not as his body really and substantially.
" I think, in my weak judgment, that it is not in the power of any
man, by pronouncing words over the elements of bread and wine, to
transubstantiate them into the real body and blood of Christ.
"In short, it is my belief, that the eucharist is only a commemora-
tion of the death of our Saviour, who said, ' As oft as ye do this, do
it in remembrance of me.' "
These pertinent and frank replies greatly provoked the haughty
prelate, who exclaimed against the woman, as an obstinate heretic,
and, after much scurrilous language, told her, " she was a silly wo-
man, knew not what she said, and that it was the duty of every Chris-
tian to believe as the mother-church hath taught and doth teach."
He then asked her the following question : " Will you, Margaret
Policy, recant the error which you maintain, be reconciled to the holy
church, and receive the remission of sins ?" To which she replied,
" I cannot believe otherwise than I have spoken, because the prac-
tice of the church of Rome is contrary not only to reason and my
senses, but also to the word of God."
Immediately on this reply, the bishop pronounced sentence of con-
demnation against her ; after which she was carried back to prison,
where she remained for upwards of a month.
She was a woman in the prime of life, pious, charitable, humane,
learned in the scriptures, and beloved by all who were acquainted
vkdth her.
During her imprisonment she was repeatedly exhorted to recant ;
but she refused all offers of life on such terms, choosing glory, ho-
nour, and immortality hereafter, rather than a few short years in this
vale of grief, and even those purchased at the expense of truth and
conscience.
REV. ROBERT SAMUEL. 325
When the day appointed for her execution arrived, which was in
July, 1555, she was conducted from the prison at Rochester to Tun-
bridge, where she was burned, sealing the truth of what she had tes-
tified with her blood, and showing that the God of all grace, out of
the weakest vessel, can give strength, and cause the meanest instru-
ments to magnify the glories of his redeeming love.
SECTION V.
MARTYRDOM OF THE REV. ROBERT SAMUEL, AND OTHERS.
Mr. Robert Samuel was a very pious man, and an eminent preach-
er of the gospel, according to the principles of the reformation, du-
ring the reign of Edward VI. He attended to his charge with indefa-
tigable industry, and by his preaching and living, recommended and
enforced the truth of the gospel.
Soon after the accession of Queen Mary, he was turned out of his
living, and retired to Ipswich ; but he could not refrain from using
his utmost efforts to propagate the reformed religion, and, therefore,
what he was prevented doing in public, he did in private. He assem-
bled ihose who had been accustomed to hear him in a room in his
house, and there daily taught them such precepts as might lead them
to salvation.
While he was spending his time in this Christian manner, the queen
commanded the commissioners for ecclesiastical affairs to publish an
order, that all priests who had been married in the days of King
Edward, should put away their wives, and be compelled again to
chastity, (as their hypocritical term expressed it,) and a single life.
This order Mr. Samuel could by no means obey, because he knew
it to be abominable, contrary to the law of Christ, and every tie,
social and humane. Therefore, determining within himself that
God's laws were not to be violated for the traditions of men, he still
kept his wife at Ipswich, and omitted no opportunity of instructing
his Christian friends in the neighbourhood.
At length, his conduct reaching the ears of Foster, a justice of
peace in those parts, every artifice was used by this popish bigot to
apprehend Mr. Samuel, who was at length taken into custody by some
of his myrmidons, when on a visit to his wife at Ipswich. Many ef-
forts had been made without success, but, at length, information having
been given of the precise time when he was to visit his wife, they
deferred their enterprise till night, (fearing the resentment of the
people, if they should attempt to apprehend them by day,) when
great numbers beset him, and he quietly resigned himself into their
hands.
Being taken before Foster, he was committed to Ipswich gaol,
where he conversed and prayed with many of his fellow-sufferers,
during his confinement in that place.
In a short time he \vas removed from Ipswich to Norwich, where
Dr. Hopton, the persecuting bishop of that diocese, and Punning,
his chancellor, exercised on him the most intolerable cruelties.
Among all the inhuman wretches with which the nation aboundec
S'iG BOOK OF MARTVRS.
at that time, none could be compared for cruelty with these two
tyrants ; for while the rage of others was generally satisfied with im-
prisonment and death, these were notorious for new invented tortures,
by which some of their prisoners were brought to recant, and others
were driven into all the horrors of the most bewildered madness.
In order to bring Mr. Samuel to recant, they confined him in a
close prison, where he was chained to a post in such a manner, that,
standing only on tiptoe, he was, in that position, forced to sustain the
whole weight of his body.
To aggravate this torment, they kept him in a starving condition
twelve days, allowing him no more than two bits of bread, and three
spoonfuls of water each day, which was done in order to protract his
misery, till they could invent new torments to overcome his patience
and resolution.
These inhuman proceedings brought him to so shocking a state,
that he was often ready to perish with thirst and hunger.
At length, when all the tortures which these savage^s could invent
proved ineflectua), and nothing could induce our martyr to deny his
great Lord and Master, he was condemned to be burned, an act less
cruel than what he had already suffered.
On the .31st of August, 1555, he was taken to the stake, where he
declared to the people around him what cruelties he had suffered
during the time of his imprisonment, but that he had been enabled to
sustain them all by the consolations of the divine spirit, with which
he had been daily visited.
As this eminent martyr was being led to execution, a young wo-
man, who had belonged to his congregation, and received the benefit
ot his spiritual discourses, came up to him, and, as the last token of
respect, cordially embraced him. This being observed by some of
the blood-thirsty papists, diligent inquiry was made for her the next
day,in order to bring her to the like fate with her revered pastor, but
she happily eluded their search, and escaped their cruel intentions.
Before Mr. Samuel was chained to the stake, he exhorted the spec-
tators to avoid idolatry, and hold fast to the truth of the gospel ; after
which he knelt down, and with an audible voice, said the following
prayer: °
" O Lord, my God and Saviour, who art Lord in heaven and earth,
maker of all things visible and invisible, I am the creature and work
of thy hands : Lord God, look upon me, and others of thy people,
who, at this time, are oppressed by the wordly-minded for 'thy law's
sake ■, yea, Lord, thy law itself is now trodden under foot, and men's
inventions exalted above it; and for that cause do I, and many of thy
creatures, refuse the glory, praise, and conveniences of this life, and
do choose to suffer adversity, and to be banished, yea, to be burnt
with the books of thy word, for the hope's sake that is laid up in store.
l-or. Lord, thou knowest, if we would but seem to please men in things
contrary to thy word, we might, by their permission, enjoy these ad-
vantages that others do, as wife, children, goods, and friends, all
vvhich I acknowledge to be thy gifts, given to the end I should serve
ihee. And now. Lord, that the world will not suffer me to enjoy
them, except I offend thy laws, behold I give unto thee my whole spirit,
soul, and body ; and lo, I leave here all the pleasures of this life, and
do now leave the use of them, f>r the hope's sake of eternal life, pur
ALLEN, COB, AND COO. 327
chased in Christ's blood, and promised to all them that fight on I us
side, and are content to sutler with him for his truth, whensoever the
world and the devil shall persecute the same.
" O Father, I do not presume to come unto thee, trusting in mine
own righteousness ; no, but only in the merits of thy dear Son, my
Saviour. For which excellent gift of salvation I cannot worthily praise
thee, neither is my sacrifice worthy, or to be accepted with thee, in
comparison of our bodies mortified, and obedient unto thy will : and
now, Lord, Avhatsoever rebellion hath been, or is found in my mem-
bers against thy will, yet do I here give unto thee my body, to the death,
rather than I will use any strange worshipping, which, I beseech
thee, accept at my hand for a pure sacrifice : let this torment be to me
the last enemy destroyed, even death, the end of misery, and the be-
ginning of all joy, peace, and solace: and M'hen the time of resurrec-
tion Cometh, then let me enjoy again tli/;se members then glorified,
which now be spoiled and consumed by fire. O Lord Jesus, receive
my spirit into thy hands. Amen."
When he had finished his prayer, he arose, and being fastened to
the Slake, the fagots were placed round him and immediately lighted.
He bore his sufierings with a courage and resolution truly Christian,
cheerfully resigning this life of care and trouble, in exchange for ano-
ther, where death shall be swallowed up in victory, where the tears
shall be wiped away from all eyes, and an eternity employed in sing-
ing the praises of that grace, which has brought the redeemed of the
Lord from much tribulation, and advanced them to mansions at the
right hand of God, where are pleasures for evermore.
About the same time that Mr. Samuel suflered, several others
shared the same fate, for adhering to the principles of the reformed
religion.
William Allen, a labouring man, was burnt at Walsingham, in
Norfolk.
Thomas Cob, a butcher, suffered at Thetford, in the same county.
Roger Coo, an ancient gentleman, was brought before the bishop
of Norwich, and the following account of his examination will give
a good idea of the degree of mercy and justice to be expected at
such a tribunal ; it being evident that the examination was a mere
mockery.
Roger Coo, being brought before the bishop, was first asked b\
him, why he was imprisoned ?
Coo. At the justice's commandment.
Bishop. There was some cause why.
Coo. Here is my accuser, let him declare.
And his accuser said, that he would not receive the sacrament.
Then the bishop said, that he thought he had transgressed the law
Coo answered, that there was no law to transgress.
The bishop then asked, what he said to the law that then was?
Coo answered, that he had been in prison a long time, and knew
it not.
No, said his accuser, nor will not. My lord, ask him when he re
ceived the sacrament
When Coo heard him say so, he said, I pray you, my lord, let him
sit down and examine me himself
328 BOOK OP MARTYRS.
But the bishop would not hear that, but said, Coo, why will you
m t receive ?
He answered him, That the bishop of Rome had changed God's
ordinances, and given the people bread and wine instead of the gos-
pel and the belief of the same.
Bishop. Is not the holy church to be believed ?
Coo. Yes, if it be built upon the word of God.
The bishop said to Coo, that he had the charge of his soul.
Coo. Have you so, my lord ? Then if you go to the devil for your
sins, what shall become of me ?
Bishop. Do you not believe as your father did ? Was not he an
honest man?
Coo. It is Avritten, that after Christ hath suffered, " There shall
come a people with the prince that shall destroy both city and sanc-
tuary." I pray you, show me whether this destruction was in my
father's time, or not?
The bishop not answering this question, asked him, whether he
would not obey the king's laws ?
Coo. As far as they agree with the word of God I will obey them.
Bishop. Whether they agree with the word of God or not, we are
bound to obey them, if the king were an infidel.
Coo. If Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, had so done, Nebu-
chadnezzar had not confessed the living God.
Bishop. These two-and-twenty years we have been governed by
such kings.
Coo. My lord, why were you then dumb, and did not speak or
bark?
Bishop. I durst not for fear of death. And thus they ended.
Mr. Coo was an aged man, and was at length committed to the fire
at Yexford, in the county of Suffolk, where he most blessedly conclu-
ded his long extended years, in the month of September, 1555.
Four otliers also suffered aboat the same time at Canterbury, viz.
George Cotmer, Robert Streater, Anthony Burward, and George
Brodridge ; all of whom bore their punishment with Christian forti-
tude, glorifying God in the midst of the flames.
SECTION VI.
SUFFERINGS AND MARTYRDOMS OF ROBERT GLOVER AND CORNELIUS
BONGEY, OF COVENTRY; AND OF WILLIAM WOLSEY AND ROBERT
PIGOT, OF THE ISLE OF ELY.
At the time Mr. Glover was apprehended, he lay sick at the house
of his brother John Glover, who had secreted himself, on account
of a warrant being issued to bring him before his ordinary, on a sus-
picion of heresy.
Though Mr. Robert Glover was in great danger from the bad state
of his health, yet such was the brutality of the popish emissaries,
that they took him out of his bed, and carried him to Coventry gaol,
wljere he continued ten days, though no misdemeanour was alleged
agiainst him.
GLOVER AND BONGEY. 329
When the ten days were expired, in which he suffered great afflic-
tion from his illness, he was brought before the ordinary, the bishop
of Litchfield and Coventry, who told him that he must submit to eccle
siastical authority, and stand reproved for not coming to church.
Mr. Glover assured his lordship, that he neither had nor would
come to church, so long as the mass was used there, to save five hun-
dred lives, challenging him to produce one proof from scripture to
justify that idolatrous practice.
After a long altercation with the bishop, in which Mr. Glover both
learnedly and judiciously defended the doctrines of the reformation,
against the errors and idolatries of popery, and evinced that he was
able to " give a reason for the faith that was in him," he was re-
manded back to Coventry gaol, where he was kept close prisoner,
without a bed, notwithstanding his illness ; nevertheless, the divine
comforts enabled him to sustain such cruel treatment without re-
pining.
From Coventry he was removed to Litchfield, where he was visited
by the chancellor and prebendaries, who exhorted him to recant his
errors, and be dutiful to the holy mother-church ; but he refused to
conform to that, or any other church, whose doctrines and practices
were not founded on scripture authority, which he determined to
make the sole rule of his religious conduct.
After this visit, he remained alone eight days, during which time,
he gave himself up to constant prayer, and meditation on the exceed-
ing precious promises of God, through our Lord Jesus Christ, to all
true believers, daily amending in bodily health, and increasing in the
true faith of the gospel.
At the expiration of the eight days he was again brought before
the bishop, who inquired how his imprisonment agreed with him,
and warmly entreated hnn to become a member of the mother church,
which had continued many years ; whereas, the church, of which he
had professed himself a member, was hot known but in the time of
Edward VL
With respect to the inquiry, our martyr was silent, treating it with
that contempt which such behaviour in a prelate deserved, but told his
lordship, that he professed himself a member of that church, which is
built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ
himself being the chief corner-stone ; and then quoted that well-
known passage in the epistle of St. Paul to the Ephesians. " This
church," added he, " hath been from the beginning, though it bore
no pompous show before the world ; being, for the most part, under
crosses and afflictions, despised, rejected, and persecuted."
After much debate, in which Mr. Glover cited scripture for what-
ever he advanced, to the confusion and indignation of that haughty
prelate, he was commanded, on his obedience, to hold his peace, as a
proud and arrogant heretic.
Mr. Glover then, with a spirit becoming a man and a Christian,
told the bishop he was not to be convinced by insolent and imperious
behaviour, but by sound reasoning, founded on scripture ; desiring,
at the same time, that he would propound to him some articles : but
the bishop chose to decline that method of proceeding, till he should
be summoned to the consistory court, dismissing him with an assu-
330 BOOK OF MARTi'RS.
raiice that he should be kept in prison, and there have neither meat
or drink, till he recanted his heresies.
Our martyr heard these cruel words with patience and resignation,
lifting up his heart to God, that he might be enabled to stand steadfast
in the faith of the glorious gospel.
When he was brought into the consistory court, the bishop demand-
ed of him how many sacraments Christ had instituted to be used in
his church ? He replied. Two : Baptism, and the Lord's Supper,
and no more.
Being asked if he allowed confession, he answered in the negative.
"With respect to the real presence in the sacrament of the altar, he
declared that the mass was neither sacrifice nor sacrament, because
they had taken away the true institution ; and when they should re-
store it, he would give his judgment concerning Christ's body in the
sacrament.
After several other examinations, public and private, he was con-
demned as a heretic, and delivered over to the secular power.
Cornelius Bongey,(who was apprehended much about the same time
as Mr. Glover, and suffered with him,) was examined by Randolph,
bishop of Litchfield and Coventry, and the following allegations
brought against him :
1. That he did hold, maintain, and teach in the city of Coventry,
that the priest hath no power to absolve a sinner from his sins.
2. That he asserted, there were in the church of Christ but two
sacraments ; Baptism, and the Lord's Supper.
3. That in the sacrament of the popish, there was not the real
body and blood of Christ, but the substance of bread and wine even
after consecration.
4. That for the space of several years he did hold and defend, that
the pope is not the head of the visible church on earth.
Mr. Bongey acknowledged the justness of these allegations, and
protested that he would hold fast to them so long as he lived ; in con-
sequence of which he also was delivered over to the secular power.
On the 20th of September, 1555, these two martyrs were led tc
the stake at Coventry, where they both yielded up their spirits to that
God who gave them, hoping, through the merits of the great Re-
deemer, for a glorious resurrection to life immortal.
John and William Glover, brothers to Robert, were sought aftei
by the popish emissaries, in order to be brought to the stake, but they
eluded their searches, and happily escaped. However, the resent
ment of the popish persecutors did not cease here, for after theii
deaths, the bones of one were taken up and dispersed in the
highway ; and the remains of the other were deposited in a commrr,
field.
William Wolsey, and Robert Pigot.
Information being laid against these two persons by the popish
emissaries, they were sought after, and soon apprehended. William
Wolsey was first taken, and being brought before a neighbouring
)ustice, was bound over to appear at the ensuing sessions for the Isle
of Ely. But a few days after, he was again taken into custody, and
committed to Wisbeach gaol, there to remain till the next assizes for
the county
WOLSEY AND PIGOT. 331
During his confinement here he was visited by the chancellor of
Ely, who told him he was out of the pale of the catholic church, and
desired that he would not meddle any more with the scriptures than
became a layman.
After a short pause, Mr. Wolsey addressed the chancellor as fol-
lows : " Good doctor, what did our Saviour mean when he said,
Wo be unto you, Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, for ye shut
up tlie kingdom of heaven before men ; ye yourselves go not in,
neither sutler ye them that come to enter in ?"
Dr. Fuller replied, " You must understand, that Christ spake to
the Scribes and Pharisees."
" Nay, Mr. Doctor," answered Wolsey, " Christ spake even to
you and your fellows here present, and to all such as you are."
Dr. Fuller then said ; " I will leave thee a book to read, of a learned
man's writing, that is to say. Dr. Watson's" (who was then bishop of
Lincoln.)
Wolsey receiving the book, diligently read it over, and found it
in many places manifestly contrary to God's word. At length, a fort-
night or three week after. Dr. Fuller going again to the prison to
converse with Wolsey, asked him how he liked the book. Wolsey
replied, " Sir, I like the book no otherwise than I thought before I
should find it." Whereupon the chancellor taking his book departed
home.
At night, when Dr. Fuller came to his chamber to look on it, he
found in many places, the book rased with a pen by Wolsey, and
being vexed therewith, said, "O this is an obstinate heretic, and hath
quite marred my book."
Then the assizes drawing nigh. Dr. Fuller came again to Wolsey,
and said to him, "Thou dost much trouble my conscience, wherefore
I pray thee depart, and rule thy tongue, so that I hear no more com-
plaint of thee, and come to the church when thou wilt ; and if thou
be complained upon, so far as I may, I promise thee I will not hear
of it."
" Doctor," said Wolsey, " I was brought hither by a law, and by a
law I will be delivered."
He was then brought to the sessions, and laid in the castle at Wis-
beach, he and all his friends thinking that he would have suffered
there at that time, but it proved otherwise.
Robert Pigot was apprehended, and brought before Sir Clement
Hyam, who reproved him severely for absenting himself from church.
The reason he assigned for his absence was, " he considered the
church should be a congregation of believers, assembled together for
the worship of God, according to the manner laid down in his most
holy word ; and not a church of human invention, founded on the
whimsical fancy of fallible men.
In consequence of this answer, he was, with Wolsey, committed to
prison, where they both remained till the day appointed for their
execution.
During their confinement, several of the neighbours came to visit
them, among whom was Peter Valerices, a Frenchman, chaplain to
the bishop of Ely, who thus addressed them ; "My brethren, accord-
ing to mine office, I am come to talk with you, for I have been almo-
ner here these twenty years and more, wherefore, my brethren, I
332 BOOK OF MARTYRS
desire you to take it in good part. I desire not V, force you from
your faith, but I require and desire you, in the name of Jesus Christ,
that you stand to the truth of his gospel, and his word; and I beseech
Almighty God, for his Son's sake, to pr3serve both you and me in the
same unto the end, for I know not, brethren, how soon I may be in
the same case with you."
This address, being so different from what was expected, drew
tears from all who were present, and greatly comforted our martyrs.
On the 9th of October, Pigot and W'olsey were brought before
Dr. Fuller, the chancellor, and other commissioners for ecclesiastical
affairs, who laid several articles to their charge, but particularly that
of the sacrament of the altar.
When that article was proposed, they jointly declared the sacra-
ment of the altar was an idol, and that the real body and blood ol
Christ was not present in the said sacrament ; and to this opinion
they said they would stand, though at the jeril of their lives, being
founded on the authority of God's word, which enjoined the worship
of the supreme God alone.
After this declaration, they were exhorted by Dr. Shaxton, one of
the commissioners, to consider the danger of continuing in that be-
lief, and recant the same, lest they should die here, and perish here-
after ; adding, that he had formerly beUeved as they did, but was now
become a new man in point of faith.
This not having any effect, Dr. Fuller upbraided Wolsey with obsti-
nacy and fool-hardiness ; but endeavoured to sooth Pigot into compli-
ance, desiring one of the attendants to write to the following purport:
" I, Robert Pigot, do believe, that after the words of consecration
spoken by the priest, there remainelh no more bread and wine, but
the very body and blood of Christ, substantially the selfsame that was
born of the Virgin Mary."
It was then read to Pigot ; and his answer being required, he
briefly said, " Sir, that is you/ faith, but never shall be mine, till you
can prove it from scripture."
These two martyrs thus persevering in the faith of the pure gos-
pel, sentence of death was passed, and they were both ordered to be
burned as heretics.
On the 16th of October, 1555, the day appointed for their execu-
tion, they were conducted to the stake, amidst the lamentations of
great numbers of spectators. Several English translations of the
New Testament being ordered to be burned with them, they took
each one of them in their hands, lamenting, on the one hand, the
destroying so valuable a repository of sacred truth, and glorying, on
the other, that they were deemed worthy of sealing the same with
their blood.
They both died in the triumph of faith, magnifying the power of
divine grace, which enables the servants of God to glory in tribula-
tion, and count all things but dung and dross, for the excellency of
the knowledge of Christ, their Redeemer.
LATIMER AND RIDLEY. 333
SECTION VII.
THE LIVE?, SUFFERINGS, AND MARTYRDOMS OF HUGH LATIMER, BISHOP
OF WORCESTER ; AND NICHOLAS RIDLEY, BISHOP OF LONDON.
Hugh Latimer was born of humble parents at Thirkeston, in Lei-
cestershire, about the year 1475, who gave him a good education,
and sent him to Cambridge, where he showed himself a zealous pa-
pist, and inveighed much against the reformers, who, at that time,
began to make some figure in England. But conversing frequently
with Thomas Bilney, the most considerable person at Cambridge of
all those who favoured the reformation, he saw the errors of popery,
and became a zealous protestant.
Latimer being thus converted, laboured, both publicly and privately,
to promote the reformed opinions, and pressed the necessity of a holy
life, in opposition to those outward performances, which were then
thought the essentials of religion. This rendered him obnoxious at
Cambridge, then the seat of ignorance, bigotry, and superstition.
However, the unaffected piety of Mr. Bilney, and the cheerful and
natural eloquence of honest Latimer, wrought greatly upon the junior
students, and increased the credit of the protestants so much, that
the papist clergy were greatly alarmed, and according to their usual
practice, called aloud for the secular arm.
Under this arm, Bilney suffered at Norwich: but his sufferings, far
from shaking the reformation at Cambridge, inspired the leaders of it
with new courage. Latimer began to exert himself more than he
had yet done ; and succeeded to that credit with his party, which
Bilney had so long supported. Among other instances of his zeal
and resolution in this cause, he gave one which was very i-emarkable :
he had the courage to write to the king (Henry VIII.) against a pro-
clamation, then just published, forbidding the use of the Bible in
English, and other books on religious subjects. He had preached
before his majesty once or twice at Windsor ; and had been taken
notice of by him in a more affable manner than that monarch usually
indulged towards his subjects. But whatever hopes of preferment
his sovereign's favour might have raised in him, he chose to put all to
the hazard rather than omit what he thought his duty. His letter is
the picture of an honest and sincere heart, he concludes in these
terms : " Accept, gracious sovereign, without displeasure, what 1
have written ; I thought it my duty to mention these things to your
majesty. No personal quarrel, as God shall judge me, have I with
any man : I wanted only to induce your majesty to consider well what
kind of persons you have about you, and the ends for which they
counsel. Indeed, great prince, many of them, or they are much
slandered, have very private ends. God grant your majesty may see
through all the designs of evil men, and be in all things equal to the
high office with which you are intrusted. Wherefore, gracious king,
remember yourself; have pity upon your own soul, and think that the
day is at hand, when you shall give account of your office, and the
blood which hath been shed by your sword ; in the Avhich day, that
334 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Ttujr grace may stand steadfastly, and not be ashamed, but be clea
and ready in your reckoning, and have your pardon sealed with the
blood of our Saviour Christ, which alone serveth at that day, is my
daily prayer to him who suffered death for our sins. The spirit of
God preserve you."
Lord Cromwell was now in power, and being a favourer of ihe
reformation, he obtained a benefice in Wiltshire for Latimer, who im-
mediately went thither and resided, discharging his duty in a very
conscientious manner, though much persecuted by the Romish cler-
gy ; who, at length, carried their malice so far as to obtain an archi-
cpiscopal citation for his appearance in London. His friends would
have had him quit England ; but their persuasions Avere in vain.
He set out for London in the depth of winter, and under a severe
fit of the stone and colic ; but he was most distressed at the thoughts
of leaving his parish exposed to the popish clergy. On his arrival
at London, he found a court of bishops and canonists ready to receive
him ; where, instead of being examined, as he expected, about his
sermons, a paper was put into his hands, which he was ordered to
subscribe, declaring his belief in the efficacy of masses for the souls
in purgatory, of prayers to the dead saints, of pilgrimages to their
sepulchres and relics, the pope's power to forgive sins, the doptrine
of merit, the seven sacram.ents, and the worship of images ; which,
when he refused to sign, the archbishop, with a frown, ordered him
to consider what he did. " We intend not," said he, " Mr. Latimer,
to be hard upon you ; we dismiss you for the present ; take a copy
of the articles ; examine them carefully, and God grant, that at our
next meeting we may find each other in better temper."
At the next, and several succeeding meetings, the same scene was
acted over again. He continued inflexible, and they continued to
distress him. Three times every week they regularly sent for
him, with a view either to draw something from him by captious
questions, or to tease him at length into a compliance. Tired out
with this usage, when he was again summoned, instead of going he
sent a letter to the archbishop, in which, with great freedom, he told
him, " That the treatment he had lately met with had brought him
into such a disorder as rendered him unfit to attend that day ; that in
the mean time he could not help taking this opportunity to expostulate
with his grace for detaining him so long from his duty ; that it seem-
ed to him most unaccountable, that they, who never preached them-
selves, should hinder others ; that, as for their examination of him,
he really could not imagine what they aimed at ; they pretended one
thing in the beginning, and another in the progress ; that if his ser-
mons gave oftence, although he persuaded himself they were neither
contrary to the truth, nor to any canon of the church, he was ready to
ansAver whatever might be thought exceptionable in them ; that he
wished a little more regard might be had to the judgment of the peo-
ple ; and that a distinction might be made between the ordinances of
God and man ; that if some abuses in religion did prevail, as was then
commonly supposed, he thought preaching was the best means to
discountenance them ; that he wished all pastors might be obliged to
perform their duty ; but that, however, liberty might be given to
those Avho Avere willing : that as to the articles proposed to him, he
begged to be excused subscribing to them ; while he lived, he never
LATIMER AND RIDLEY; 335
would abet superstition ; and that, lastly, he hoped the archbishop
would excuse what he had written ; he knew his duty to his superiors,
and would practise it ; but in that case, he thought a stronger obliga-
tion lay upon him."
The bishops, however, continued their persecutions, but their
schemes were frustrated in an unexpected manner. Latimer being
raised to the see of Worcester, in the year 1533, by the favour of
Anne Boleyn, then the favourite wife of Henry, to whom, most pro-
bably, he was recommended by Lord Cromwell, he had now a more
extensive field to promote the principles of the reformation, in which
he laboured with the utmost pains and assiduity. All the historians
of those times mention him as a person remarkably zealous in the
discharge of his new office ; and tell us, that in overlooking the cler-
gy of his diocese, he was uncommonly active, warm, and resolute, and
presided in his ecclesiastical court with the same spirit. In visiting,
he was frequent and observant ; in ordaining, strict and wary ; in
preaching, indefatigable ; and in reproving and exhorting, severe and
persuasive.
In 1536 he received a sum.mons to attend the parliament and con-
vocation, which gave him a further opportunity of promoting the work
of reformation, Avhereon his heart was so much set. Many alterations
were made in religious matters, and a few months after, the Bible was
translated into English, and recommended to a general perusal, in
October, 1537.
Latimer, highly satisfied with the prospect of the times, now repair-
ed to his diocese, having made no longer stay in London than was
absolutely necessary. He had no talents, and he pretended to have
none, for state affairs. His whole ambition was to discharge the pas-
toral functions of a bishop, neither aiming to display the abilities of a
statesman, nor those of a courtier. How very unqualified he was to
support the latter of these characters, the following story will prove :
It was the custom in those days for the bishops to make presents to the
king on new-year's day, and many of them presented very liberally,
proportioning their gifts to their hopes and expectations. Among the
rest, Latimer, being then in town, waited upon the king, with his of-
fering ; but instead of a purse of gold, which was the common obla-
tion, he presented a New Testament, with a leaf doubled down in a
very conspicuous manner, at this passage, " "Whoremongers and
adulterers God will judge."
In 1539 he w^as summoned again to attend the parliament: the
bishop of Winchester, Gardiner, was his great enemy ; and, upon a
particular occasion, when the bishops were with the king, kneeled
down and solemnly accused Bishop Latimer of a seditious sermon
preached at court. Being called upon by the king, with some stern-
ness, to vindicate himself, Latimer was so far from denying and pallia-
ting what he had said, that he nobly justified it; and turning to the
king, with that noble unconcern which a good conscience inspires,
" I never thought myself worthy," said he, " nor did I ever sue to be
1 preacher before your grace ; but I was called to it, and would be
willing, if you mislike it, to give place to my betters ; for I grant, there
may be a great many more worthy of the room than I am. And if it
be your grace's pleasure to allow them for preachers, I can be content
\o bear their books after them. But if your grace allow me for a
g36 BOOK OF MARTYRb.
preacher, I would desire you to give me leave to discharge my con-
science, and to frame my doctrine according to my audience. I had
been a very dolt, indeed, to have preached so at the very borders of
your realm, as I preach before your grace." The boldness of his
answer bafHed his accuser's maiice ; the severity of the king's coun-
tenance changed into a gracious smile, and the bishop Avas dismissed
with that obliging freedom which this monarch never used but to those
he esteemed.
However, as Latimer could not give his vote for the act of the six
papistical articles, drawn up by the duke of Norfolk, he thought it
vvrong to hold any office in a church where such terms of communion
were required, and, therefore, he resigned his bishopric, and retired
into the country, where he purposed to live a sequestered life. But,
in the midst of his security, an unhappy accident carried him again
into the tempestuous atmosphere of the court : he received a bruise
by the fall of a tree, and the contusion was so dangerous, that he was
obliged to seek for better assistance than could be aflbrded him by
the unskilful surgeons of that part of the country where he resided.
With this view he repaired to London, where he had the misfortune
to see the fall of his patron, the Lord Cromwell ; a loss which he was
soon made sensible of. For Gardiner's emissaries quickly found him
out in his concealment, and a pretended charge of his having spoken
against the six articles, being alleged against him, he was sent to the
tower ; where, without any judicial examination, he suffered, through
one pretence and another, a cruel imprisonment for the remaining six
years of King Henry's reign.
On the death of Henry, the protestant interest revived under his
son Edward, and Latimer, immediately upon the change of the govern-
ment, was set at liberty. An address was made to the protector to
restore him to his bishopric ; the protector was very willing to gratify
the parliament, and proposed the resumption of his bishopric to Mr.
Latimer ; who now thinking himself unequal to the weight of it, re-
fused to resume it, choosing rather to accept an invitation from his
friend. Archbishop Cranmer, and to take up his residence with him at
Lambeth ; where his chief employment was to hear the complaints,
and redress the grievances of the poor people ; and his character, for
services of this kind, was so universally known, that strangers from
every part of England resorted to him.
In these employments he spent more than two years, during which
time he assisted the archbishop in composing the homilies, which was
set forth by authority, in the reign of King Edward ; he was also ap-
pointed to preach the Lent sermons before his majesty, which oflice
he performed during the first three years of his reign.
Upon the revolution, which happened at court, after the death of
the duke of Somerset, he retired into the country, and made use of
the king's license as a general preacher, in those places where he
thought his labours might be most serviceable.
He was thus employed during the remainder of that reign, and con-
tinued the same course, for a short time, in the beginning of the next ;
but as soon as the re-introduction of popery was resolved on, the first
step towards it was the prohibition of all preaching, and licensing only
such as were knoAvn to be popishly inclined. The bishop of Win-
chester, who was now prime minister, having proscribed Mr. Latime"
Dr. R. Barnes before Cardinal Wdsey. Page 236..
P^EI^^^^^^^^^^^. «^^'^
M l||||B^^^^M i
■^^^^^^
■t^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^SS
Mrs. Askew on the rack. Page 245.
Persecutions in Piedmont. Page 170.
LATIMER AND RIDLEY. 337
from the first, sent a message to cite him before the council. He had
notice of tliis design some hours before the messenger's arrival, but
he made no use of the intelligence. The messenger found him equij>-
ped for his journey, at which, expressing his surprise, Mr. Latimer
told him, that he was as ready to attend him to London, thus called
upon to answer for his faith, as he ever was to take any journey in his
life ; and that he doubted not but that God, who had already enabled
him to preach the word before two princes, would enable him to wit-
ness the same before a third. The messenger then acquainting him
that he had no orders to seize his person, delivered a letter and de-
parted. However, opening the letter, and finding it a citation from
the council, he resolved to obey it, and set out immediately. As he
passed through Smithfield, he said, cheerfully, " This place of burn-
ing hath long groaned for me." The next morning he waited upon
the council, who, having loaded him with many severe reproaches,
sent him to the tower, from whence, after some time, he was removed
to Oxford.
Nicholas Ridley, bishop of London, received the earliest part ot
his education at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, from whence he was removed
to the University of Cambridge, where his great learning and distin-
guished abilities so recommended him, that he was made master oC
Pembroke Hall, in that university.
After being some years in this office, he left Cambridge, and travel-
led into various parts of Europe for his advancement in knowledge.-
On his return to England he was made chaplain to Henry VIH. and
bishop of Rochester, from which he was translated to the see of Lon-
don by Edward VL
In private life he was pious, humane, and affable ; in public he was
learned, sound, and eloquent ; diligenfin his duty, and very popular
as a preacher.
He had been educated in the Roman Catholic religion, but was
brought over to the reformed faith by reading Bertram's book on the
sacrament ; and he was confirmed in the same by frequent confe-
rences with Cranmer and Peter Martyr, so that he became a zealous
promoter of the reformed doctrines and discipline during the reign of
King Edward.
The following character of this eminent divine presents so interest-
ing a picture of the good man and pious Christian, that we give it ver-
batim.
" In his important offices he so diligently applied himself by preach-
ing and teaching the true and wholesome doctrine of Christ, that no
good child was more singularly loved by his dear parents, than he by
his flock and diocese. Every holiday and Sunday he preached in one
place or other, except he was otherwise hindered by weighty afiairs
and business ; and to his sermons the people resorted, swarming about
him like bees, and so faithfully did his life portray his doctrines, thai
even his very enemies could not reprove him in any thing.
" Besides this, he was very learned, his memory was great, and he
had attained such reading withal, that he deserved to be compared to
the best men of his age, as his works, sermons, and his sundry dispu-
tations in both the universities, well testified.
" He ^vas, also, wise of counsel, deep of wit, and very politic in all
his doings. He was anxious to pain the obstinate papists from their
22
338 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
erroneous opinions, and sought by gentleness to M'in them to the truth,
as his gentle and courteous treatnnent of Dr. Heath, who was prisoner
Avilh him in King Edward's time, in his house, one year, sufficiently
proved. In fine, he was in all points so good, pious, and spiritual a
man, that England never saw his superior.
" He was comely in his person, and well proportioned. He took
all things in good part, bearing no malice nor rancour from his heart,
but straightways forgetting all injuries and offences done against him
He was very kind and natural to his relations, and yet not bearing
with them any otherwise than right would require, giving them al-
ways for a general rule, yea to his own brother and sister, that they
doing evil, should look for nothing at his hand, but should be as stran-
gers and aliens to him, and that they to be his brother and sister, must
live a good life.
" He used all kinds of ways to mortify himself, and was much
given to prayer and contemplation ; for duly every morning, as soon
as he was dressed, lie went to his bed-chamber, and there upon his
knees prayed for half an hour ; which being done, immediately he
went to his study, (if no other business came to interrupt him,) where
he continued till ten o'clock, and then came to the common prayer,
daily used in his house. These being done, he went to dinner; where
he talked little, except otherwise occasion had been ministered, and
then it was sober, discreet, and wise, and sometimes merry, as case
required.
" The dinner done, which was not very long, he used to sit an hour
or thereabouts, talking, or playing at chess : he then returned to his
study, and there v>^ould continue, except visiters, or business abroad
prevented him, until five o'clock at night, when he would come to
common prayer, as in the forenoon ; which being finished, he went
to supper, behaving himself there as at his dinner before. After sup-
per, recreating himself again at chess, after which he would return
again to his study ; continuing there till eleven o'clock at night,
which was his common hour of going to bed, then saying his prayers
upon his knees as in the morning when he rose. When at his manor
of Fulham, he used to read a daily lecture to his family at the common
prayer, beginning at the Acts of the Apostles, and so going through
all the epistles of St. Paul, giving to every man that could read, a New
Testament, hiring them, besides, wi^h money, to learn by heart cer-
tain principal chapters, but especially the 13th chapter of the Acts ot
the Aposiles, reading also unto his household, oftentimes, the 101s*
Psalm, being marvellously careful over his family, that they might be
a pattern of all virtue and honesty to others. In short, as he was god-
ly and virtuous himself, so nothing but virtue and godliness reigned in
his house, feeding them with the food of our Saviour Jesus Christ.
" The following is a striking instance of the benevolence of his
temper, shown to Mrs. Bonner, mother to Dr. Bonner, bishop of Lon-
don. Bishop Ridley, when at his manor of Fulham, always sent for
Mrs. Bonner, who dwelt in a house adjoining his own, to dinner and
supper, with a Mrs. Mungey, Bonner's sister, saying, Go for my
mother Bonner ; who coming, was always placed in the chair at the
head of the table, being as gently treated and welcomed as his ov.n
mother, and he would never have her displaced from her seat, although
the king's council had been present ; saying, when any of them were
RIDLEY AND LATIMER. 339
there, (as se\ eral limes they were,) By your lordship's favour, thip.
place, of right and custom, is for my mother Bonner. But how well he
was recompensed for this singular kindness and gentle pity afterwards
at the hands of Dr. Bonner, is too well known. For who afterwards
was a greater enemy to Dr. Ridley than Dr. Bonner ? "Who went
more about to seek his destruction than he ? Recompensing his gen-
tleness with extreme cruelty ; as well appeared by the severity
against Dr. Ridley's own sister, and her husband, George Shipside,
from time to time : whereas the gentleness of the other permitted
Bonner's mother, sister, and others of his kindred, not only quietly to
enjoy all that which they had from Bishop Bonner, but also entertain-
ed thorn in his house, showing much courtesy and friendship daily un-
to them ; while, on the other side, Bonner being restored again,
would not suffer the brother and sister of Bishop Ridley, and other of
his friends, not only not to enjoy that which they had by their brother,
but also churlishly, without all order of law or honesty, wrested from
them all the livings they had."
On the accession of Queen Mary, he shared the same fate with
many others who professed the truth of the gospel. Being accused of
heresy, he was first removed from his bishopric, then sent prisoner to
the tower of London, and afterwards to Bo< ardo prison, in Oxford ;
from whence he was committed to the custody of Mr. Irish, mayor of
that city, in whose house he remained till the day of his execution.
On the 30th of September, 1555, these two eminent prelates were
cited to appear in the divinity-school at Oxford, which they accord-
ingly did.
Dr. Ridley was first examined, and severely reprimanded by the
bishop of Lincoln, because, when he heard the " cardinal's grace,"
and the " pope's holiness," mentioned in the commission, he kept oi
his cap. The words of the bishop were to this effect : " Mr. Ridley,
if you will not be uncovered, in respect to the pope and the cardinal.
liis legale, by whose authority we sit in commission, your cap shall
be taken off."
The bishop of Lincoln then made a formal harangue, in which he
intreated Riilley to return to the holy mother-church, insisted on the
antiquity and authority of the see of Rome, and of the pope, as the im-
mediate successor of St. Peter.
Dr. Ridley, in return, strenuously opposed the arguments of the
bishop, and boldly vindicated the doctrines of the reformation.
After much debate, the five following articles were proposed to him,
and his immediate and explicit answers required.
L That he had frequently affirmed, and openly maintained and de-
fended, that the true natural body of Christ, after consecration of the
priest, is not really present in the sacrament of the altar.
2. That he had often publicly affirmed and defended, that in the sa-
crament of the altar remaineth still the substance of bread and wine.
3. That he had often openly affirmed, and obstinately maintained,
that in the mass is no propitiatory sacrifice for the quick and the
dead.
4. That the aforesaid assertions have been solemnly condemned by
the scholastic censure of this school, as heretical, and contrary to tho
Catholic faith, by the prolocutor of the convocation-house, and sun
dry learned men of both universities.
340 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
5. That all and singular the premises are true, and notoriously
known, by all near at hand, and in distant places.
To the first of these articles Dr. Ridley replied, " that he believed
Christ's body to be in the sacrament, really, by grace and spirit effec-
tually, but not so as to include a lively and moveable body under the
forms of bread and wine."
To the second he answered in the affirmative.
Part of the fourth he acknowledged, and part he denied.
To the fifth he answered, " that the premises were so far true, as
his replies had set forth. Whether all men spake evil of them he
knew not, because he came not so much abroad to hear what every
man reported."
He was then ordered to appear the following day in St. Mary's
church, in Oxford, to give his final answer; after which he was com-
mitted to the custody of the mayor.
When Latimer was brought into court, the bishop of Lincoln
warmly exhorted him to return to the unity of the church, from which
he had revolted.
The same articles which were proposed to Dr. Ridley were read to
Latimer, and he was required to give a full and satisfactory answer to
each of them.
His replies not being satisfactory to the court, he was dismissed ;
but ordered to appear in St. Mary's church, at the same time with
Dr. Ridley.
On the day appointed, the commissioners met, when Dr. Ridley
being first brought before them, the bishop of Lincoln stood up, and
began to repeat the proceedings of the former meeting, assuring him
that he had full liberty to make what alterations he pleased in his an-
swers to the articles proposed to him, and to deliver the same to the
court in writing.
After some debate. Dr. Ridley took out a paper and began to read ;
but the bishop interrupted him, and ordered the beadle to take the
writing from him. The doctor desired permission to read on, decla-
ring the contents were only his answers to the articles proposed ; but
the bishop and others, having privately reviewed it, would not permit
it to be read in open court.
When the articles were again administered, he referred the notary
to his writing, who set them down according to the same.
The bishop of Gloucester affecting much concern for Dr. Ridley,
persuaded him not to indulge an obstinate temper, but recant his erro-
neous opinions, and return to the unity of the holy catholic church.
Dr. Ridley coolly replied, he was not vain of his own understanding,
but was fully persuaded that the religion he professed was founded on
God's most holy and infallible church ; and therefore, he could not
abandon or deny the same, consistently with his regard for the honour
of God, and the salvation of his immortal soul.
He desired to declare his reasons, why he could not, with a safe
conscience, admit of the popish supremacy ; but his request was de-
nied.
The bishop finding him inflexible in the faith, according to the doc-
trine of the reformation, thus addressed him : " Dr. Ridley, it is with
the utmost concern that I observe your stubbornness and obstinacy,
in persisting in damnable errors and heresies ; but unless you recant,
RIDLEY AND LATIMER, 341
I must proceed to the other part of my commission, though very much
against my ^^^1I and desire."
Ridley not making any reply, sentence of condemnation was read ,
after which he was carried back to confinement.
When Latimer was brought before the court, the bishop of Lincoln
informed him, that though they had already taken his answers to cer-
tain articles alleged against him, yet they had given him time to con-
sider on the same, and would permit him to make what alterations he
should deem fit, hoping, by such means, to reclaim him from his errors,
and bring him over to the faith of the holy catholic church.
The articles were again read to him, but he deviated not, in a single
point, from the answers he had already given.
Being again warned to recant, and revoke his errors, he refused,
declaring that he never would deny God's truth, which he was ready
to seal with his blood. Sentence of condemnation was then pronounced
against him, and he was committed to the custody of the mayor.
The account of the degradation of Ridley, his behaviour before, and
and at the place of execution, is curious and interesting ; we therefore
give it at length.
" On the 15th day of October, in the morning. Dr. Brooks, bishop
of Gloucester, and the vice-chancellor of Oxford, Dr. Marshall, with
others of the chief and heads of the same university, and many others
accompanying them, came to the house of Mr. Irish, mayor of Oxford,
where Dr. Ridley was a close prisoner. And when the bishop of
Gloucester came into the chamber where Dr. Ridley lay, he told him
for what purpose their coming was, saying, ' That yet once again the
queen's majesty did offer unto him, by them, her gracious mercy, if
he would receive it, and come home again to the faith in which he was
baptized.' And further said, ' That if he would not recant and be-
come one of the catholic church with them, then they must needs
(against their wills) proceed according to the law, which they would
be very loth to do, if they might otherwise.' ' But,' said he, ' we have
been oftentimes with you, and have requested that you would recant
your fantastical and devilish opinions, which hitherto you have not,
although you might in so doing win many, and do much gooti. There-
fore, good Mr. Ridley, consider with yourself the danger that shall
ensue both of body and soul, if you shall so wilfully cast yourself
away, in refusing mercy offered unto you at this time.'
" ' My lord,' said Dr. Ridley, ' you know my mind fully herein :
and as for my doctrine, my conscience assureth me that it is sound,
and according to God's word, (to his glory be it spoken ;) and which
doctrine, the Lord God being my helper, I will maintain so long as my
tongue shall move, and breath is within my body ; and in confirma-
tion thereof f am willing to seal the same with my blood.'
" Brooks. — Well, it were best, Mr. Ridley, not to do so, but to be
come one of the church with us. For you know well enough, that
whosoever is out of the catholic church cannot be saved. Therefore
I say, that while you have time and mercy offered you, receive it, and
confess with us the pope's holiness to be the chief head of the church.
" Ridley. — I marvel that you will trouble me with any such vain
and foolish talk. You know my mind concerning the usurped autho
rity of that antichrist. — And here he would have reasoned with the
bidhop of Gloucester, concerning the bishop of Rome's authority, but
342 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
was not suffered, and yet he spake so earnestly against the pope
therein, that the bishop told him, ' If he would not hold his peace he
should be compelled. And seeing,' saith he, ' that you Avill not re-
ceive the queen's mercy, but stubbornly refuse the same, we must,
against our wills, proceed according to our commission to degrading
and depriving you of the dignity of priesthood. For we take you for
no bishop, and therefore will the sooner have done with you : so com-
mitting you to the secular power, you know what doth follow.'
" Ridley. Do with me as it shall please God to suffer you; I am
well content to abide the same with all my heart.
" Brooks. Put off your cap, and put upon you this surplice.
" Ridley. Not I, truly.
" Brooks. But you must.
" Ridley. I will not.
'• Brooks. You must ; therefore, make no more ado, but put this
surplice upon you.
" Ridley. Truly, if it come upon me it shall be against my will.
" Brooks. Will you not put it upon you?
" Ridley. No, that I will not.
" Brooks. It shall be put upon you, by one or other.
" Ridley. Do therein as it shall please you, I am well contentwith
that, and more than that ; the servant is not above his master. If
they dealt so cruelly Avith our Saviour Christ, as the Scripture maketh
mention, and he suffered the same patiently, how much doth it be-
come us, his servants ! And in saying these words they put upon
him a surplice, with all the trinkets appertaining to the mass. As
they were about this. Dr. Ridley vehemently inveighed against the
Romish bishop, and all that foolish apparel, calling the first Anti-
christ, and the last foolish and abominable, ' yea, too foolish for a
device in a play.'
" Brooks. You had best hold your peace, lest your mouth be stop-
ped. At Avhich words one Eldridge, the reader of the Greek lecture,
stand ing by, said, ' Sir, the law is that he should be grogged, there-
fore let him be gagged.' At which words Dr. Ridley looking ear-
nestly upon him, shook his head at him, and made no answer.
" When they came to that place where Dr. Ridley should hold the
chalice and the wafer cake, (called the singing-bread,) Dr. Ridley
said, ' They shall not come into my hands ; for if they do, they shall
fall to the ground for me.' Then one was appointed to hold them in
his hand, while Bishop Brooks read a part in Latin, touching the de-
gradation of spiritual persons, according to the poi>t's law.
" They then put the book into his hand, and read another thing
in Latin, the effect of which was, ' We do take from thee the office
of preacMng the gospel,' &c. At which words Dr. Ridley gave a
great sigh, and looking up towards heaven, said, ' O Lord God, for-
give them this their wickedness.'
" Having put on him the massgear, they began to take it away,
(beginning with the uppermost garment,) again reading in Latin ac-
cording to the pope's law. Now when all was taken from him, sa-
ving only the surplice, as they were reading and taking it away. Dr.
Ridley said unto them, ' Lord God, what power be you of, that you
can take from a man that which he never had ? I was never a singer
in all my life, and yet you Avill take from me that which I never had '
DEGRADATION OF RIDLEV. 343
*' So wli'Cn this ridiculous degradation was ended very solemnly,
Dr. Ridley said to Dr. Brooks, 'Have you done? If you have, then
give me leave to talk a little concerning these matters.' Brooks an-
swered, ' ]Mr. Ridley, we must not talk with you ; you are out of the
church; and our law is, that Ave must not talk with any out of the
church.' Then Dr. Ridley said, ' Seeing that you will not suffer me
to talk, neither will vouchsafe to hear me, what remedy but j. alienee ?
T refer my cause to my heavenly Father, who will reform things that
be amiss, when it shall please him.'
" They were then going, when Ridley said, ' My lord, I would wish
that you would vouchsafe to read over and peruse a little book of
Bertram's writing, concerning the sacrament. I promise you, you
will find much good learning therein, if you will read it with an im-
partial judgment.' To which Dr. Brooks made no answer, but was
going away. Then said Dr. Ridley, ' Oh, I perceive you cannot
away with this manner of talk. Well, as it is to no purpose, I will
say no more ; I will speak of worldly affairs. I pray you, therefore,
my lord, hear me, and be a means to the queen's majesty, in behalf
of a great many poor men, especially my poor sister and her hus-
band, who standeth there. They had a poor living granted unto
them by me, when I was in the see of London, which is taken away
from them, by him that occupieth the same room, without either law
or conscience. I have a supplication to her majesty in their behalf.
You shall hear it.' Then he read the same, and when he came to
the place that spake of his sister, by name, he wept ; so that for a
time he could not speak for weeping. But recovering himself, he
said, ' This is nature that moveth me, but I have now done ;' and
with that he finished it, and then delivered it to his brother, com-
manding him to put it up to the queen's majesty, and to sue not only
for himself, but also for such as had any leases or grants by him, and
were put from them by Dr. Bonner. Dr. Brooks said, ' Indeed, Mr.
Ridley, your request in this supplication is very right ; therefore
I must in conscience speak to the queen's majesty for them.'
" Ridley. I pray for God's sake so do.
" Brooks. I think your request will be granted, except one thing
hinder it, and that is, because you do not allow the queen's proceed-
ings, but obstinately withstand the same.
" Ridley. What remedy ? I can do no more than speak and write.
I trust I have discharged my conscience therein, and God's will be
done.
" Brooks. I will do my best.
" The degradation being concluded, and all things finished. Dr.
Brooks called the bailiffs, delivering to them Dr. Ridley, with this
charge, to keep him safely from any man speaking with him, and that
he should be brought to the place of execution when they were
commanded. Then Dr. Ridley, in praising God, said, ' God, I thank
thee, and to thy praise be it spoken, there is none c f you able to lay
to my charge any open or notorious crime ; for if you could, it would
surely be done, 1 see very well.' Whereunto Brooks said, he played
the part of a proud pharisee.
" Dr. Ridley said, 'No, as I said before, to God's glory be it spo
ken. I confess myself to be a miserable sinner, and have great need
of God's help and mercy, and do daily call and cry for the same .
344 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
therefore I pray you have no such opinion of me.' Then they ae-
parted, and in going away, a certain warden of a college advised Dr
Ridley to repent and forsake that erroneous opinion. ' Sir,' said the
doctor, ' repent you, for you are out of the truth : and, I pray God
{if it be his blessed will) have mercy upon you, and grant you the
understanding of his word.' Then the warden, being in a passion
thereat, said, ' I trust that I shall never be of your devilish opinion,
either yet to be in that place whither you shall go : thou art the most
obstinate and wilful man that I ever heard talk since I was born.'
Behaviour of Dr. Ridley the night before he suffered.
" On the night before he suffered, his beard was washed and his
legs ; and as he sat at supper, at the house of Mr. Irish, his keeper,
he invited his hostess, and the rest at the table, to his marriage : for,
said he, to-morrow I must be married, and so showed himself to be as
merry as ever he had been before. And wishing his sister at his
marriage, he asked his brother, sitting at the table, whether he thought
she could find in her heart to be there : he answered, ' Yes, I dare
say, with all her heart.' At which he said, ' He was glad to hear of
her sincerity.' At this discourse Mrs. Irish wept. But Dr. Ridley
comforted her, saying, ' O Mrs. Irish, you love me not, I see well
enough ; for in that you weep, it doth appear you will not be at my
marriage, neither are content therewith. Indeed you are not so much
my friend as I thought you had been. But quiet yourself, though my
breakfast shall be somewhat sharp and painful, yet I am sure my sup-
per will be more pleasant and sweet.'
" When they arose from the table, his brother ofl'ered to stay all
night with him. But he said, ' No, no, that you shall not. Fori in-
tend (God willing) to go to bed, and sleep as quietly to-night, as
ever I did.' On this his brother departed, exhorting him to be
of good cheer, and to take his cross quietly, for the reward was
great, &c.
Burning of Ridley and Latimer.
" On the north side of the town, in the ditch over against Baliol
College, the place of execution was appointed ; and for fear of any
tumult that might arise to hinder the burning of the servants of Christ,
the Lord Williams was commanded by the queen's letters, and the
householders of the city, to be there assistant, sufficiently appointed ;
and when every thing was in readiness, the prisoners were brought
forth by the mayor and bailiffs.
" Dr. Ridley had on a black gown furred, and faced with foins,
such as he used to wear when he was a bishop ; a tippet of velvet
furred likewise about his neck, a velvet night-cap upon his head,
with a corner cap, and slippers on his feet. He walked to the stake
between the mayor and an alderman, &c.
" \fter him. came Mr. Latimer, in a poor Bristol frieze frock much
worn, with his buttoned cap and handkerchief on his head, all ready
to the fire, a new long shroud hanging down to his feet : which at the
first sight excited sorrow in the spectators, beholding, on the one side
the honour they sometimes had, and on the other, the calamity into
which they had fallen.
" Dr. Ridley, as he passed toward Bocardo, looked up where Dr
Cranmer lay, hoping to have seen him at the glass window, and spoken
BURNING OF LATIMER AND RIDLEY. 345
to him. But Dr. Cranmer was then engaged in dispute with friar
Soto and his fellows, so that he could not see him through that occa-
sion. Dr. Ridley then looking back, saw Mr. Latimer coming after
Unto whom he said, 'Oh, are you there?' — 'Yea,' said Mr. Latimer,^
' have after, as fast as I can.' So he following a pretty way off, at
length they came to ihe stake. Dr. Ridley first entering the place,
earnestly held up both his hands, looked towards heaven: then shortly
after seeing Mr. Latimer with a cheerful look, he ran to him, and
embraced him, saying, ' Be of good cheer, brother, for God will
either assuage the fury of the flame, or else strengthen us to
abide it.'
" He then went to the stake, and kneeling down prayed with
great fervour, while Mr. Latimer, following, kneeled also, and pray-
ed as earnestly as he. After this, they arose and conversed together,
and while thus employed, Dr. Smith began his sermon to them upon
this text of St. Paul, in the 13th chapter of the first epistle to the Co-
rinthians : ' If I yield my body to the fire to be burnt, and have not
charity, I shall gain nothing thereby.' "Wherein he alleged, that the
goodness of the cause, and not the order of death, maketh the ho-
liness of the person ; which he confirmed by the examples of Judas,
and of a woman in Oxford who of late hanged herself, for that they
and such like as he recited, might then be adjudged righteous, which
desperately separated their lives from their bodies, as he feared that
those men who stood before him would do. But he cried still to the
people to beware of them, for they were heretics, and died out of the
church. He ended with a very short exhortation to them to recant
and come home again to the church, and save their lives and souls,
which else were condemned. His sermon scarcely lasted a qur.T-
ter of an hour.
" At its conclusion, Dr. Ridley said to Mr. Latimer, 'Will you be-
gin to answer the sermon or shall I V Mr. Latimer said, ' Begin vou
first, I pray you !' — ' I will,' said Dr. Ridley.
" He then, with Mr. Latimer, kneeled to my Lord Williams, the
vice-chancellor of Oxford, and the other commissioners appointed for
the purpose, who sat upon a form thereby, and said, ' I beseech you,
my lord, even for Christ's sake, that I may speak but two or three
words :' and Avhilst my lord bent his head to the mayor and vice-
chancellor, to know whether he might have leave to speak, the bai-
liffs, and Dr. Marshall, the vice-chancellor, ran hastily unto him,
and with their hands stopping his mouth, said, ' Mr. Ridley, if you
will revoke your erroneous opinions, you shall not only have liberty
so to do, but also your life.' — 'Not otherwise?' said Dr. Ridley. 'No,'
answered Dr. Marshall : ' therefore if you will not do so, there is no
remedy ; you must suffer for your deserts.' ' Well,' said the martyr,
' so long as the breath is in my body, I will never deny my Lord
Christ, and his known truth : God's will be done in me :' with that
he rose and said with a loud voice, ' I commit our cause to Almighty
God, who will indifferently judge all.'
" To which Mr. Latimer added his old saying, ' Well, there is no-
thing hid but it shall be opened ;' and said he could answer Smith
well enough, if he might be suffered. They were then commanded
to prepare, immediately, for the stake.
" They according, with all meekness, obeyed. Dr. Ridley gave his
346 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
gown 5ind tippet to his brother-in-law, Mr. Shipside, who, all the time
of his imprisonment, although he was not suffered to come to hiin,
lay there at his own charges to provide him necessaries, which, from
■time to time, he sent him by the serjeant who kept him. Some othej
of his apparel he also gave away, the others the baiUffs took.
" He likewise made presents of other small things to gentlemen
standing by, and divers of them pitifully weeping ; to Sir Henry Le?
he gave a new groat ; to my Lord Williams' gentleman, some nap-
kins, &.C. and happy was he who could get the least trifle for a remem
brance of this good man.
" Mr. Latimer quietly suffered his keeper to pull off his hose, and
his other apparel, which was very simple ; and being stripped to hi?
shroud, he seemed as comely a person as one could well see.
" Then Dr. Ridley, standing as yet in his trouse, said to his brother
' It were best for me to go in my trouse still.' ' No,' said Mr. Lati-
mer, ' it will put you to more pain ; and it will do a poor man good.
Whereunto Dr. Ridley said, ' Be it in the name of God,' and so un
laced himself. Then being in his shirt, he stood upon the aforesaid
stone, and held up his hand, and said, ' O Heavenly Father, I givf
unto thee most hearty thanks, that thou hast called me to be a profes
sor of thee, even unto death ; I beseech thee. Lord God, have mercy
on this realm of England, and deliver it from all her enemies.'
'" Then the smith took a chain of iron, and brought it about both
their middles ; and as he was knocking in the staple. Dr. Ridley took
the chain in his hand, and looking aside to the sninh, said, ' Good fel
low, knock it in hard, for the flesh will have its course.' Then Mr.
Shipside brought him a bag of gunpowder, and tied it ab >ut his neck.
Dr. Ridley asked him what it was ; he answered, gunpowv'^^r. ' Then^'
said he, ' I will take it to be sent of God, therefore I will receive it.
And have you any,' said he, ' for my brother V (meaning Mr. Lati-
mer.) ' Yea, sir, that I have,' said he. ' Then give it unto him,' said
he, ' in time, lest you come too late.' So his brother went, and car-
ried it to Mr. Latimer.
" Dr. Ridley said to my Lord Williams, ' My lord, I must be a suitor
unto your lordship in the behalf of divers poor men, and especially in
the cause of my poor sister ; I have made a supplication to the queen
in their behalf. I beseech your lordship, for Christ's sake, to be a
means to her grace for them. My brother here hath the supplication,
and will resort to your lordship to certify you hereof. There is nothing
in all the world that troubleth my conscience, (I praise God,) this only
excepted. Whilst I was in the see of London, divers poor men took
leases of me, and agreed with me for the same. Now I hear that the
bishop who now occupieth the same room, will not allow my grants
made to them, but contrary to all law and conscience, hath taken from
them their livings. I beseech you, my lord, be a means for them ;
you shall tfo a good deed, and God will reward you.'
" They then brought a lighted fagot, and laid it at Dr. Ridley's
feet ; upon which Mr. Latimer said, ' Be of good comfort, Mr. Rid-
ley, and play the man ; we shall, this day light such a candle by God's
grace in England, as I trust never shall be put out.' When Dr.
Ridley saw the fire flaming up towards him, he cried with an amazing
loud voice : 'Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit; Lord,
receive my spirit ;' and continued often to repeat, ' Lord, Lord, re-
BURNING OF RIDLEY AND LATIMER. 347
ceive my spirit.' Mr. Latimer, on the other side, cried as vehemently
' O Father of Heaven, receive my soul.' After which he soon died,
seemingly with very little pain.
" But Dr. Ridley, from the ill making of the fire, the fagots being
g^een, and piled too high, so that the flames being kept down by the
green wood, burned fiercely beneath, was put to such exquisite pain,
that he desired them, for God's sake, to let the fire come unto him ;
which his brother-in-law hearing, but not very well understanding,
to rid him out of his pain, (for which cause he gave attendance,) as one
in such sorrow, and not well knowing what he did, heaped fagots upon
him, so that he quite covered him, which made the fire so vehement
beneath, that it burned all his nether parts before it touched the
upper, and made him struggle under the fagots, and often desired them
to let the fire come to him, saying, ' I cannot burn.' Yet, in all his
torment, he forgot not to call upon God, still having in his mouth,
' Lord have mercy upon me,' intermingling his cry, ' Let the fire come
unto me, I cannot burn.' In which pains he laboured till one of the
standers by, with his bill, pulled the fagots from above, and where he
saw the fire flame up, he wrested himself to that side. And w hen the
fire touched the gunpowder, he was seen to stir no more, but burned
on the other side, falling down at Mr. Latimer's feet ; his body being
divided.
" The dreadful sight filled almost every eye with tears. Some
took it grievously to see their deaths, whose lives they had held so
dear. Some pitied their persons, who thought their souls had no
need thereof. But the sorrow of his brother, whose extreme anxiety
had led him to attempt to put a speedy end to his sufferings, but who,
from error and confusion, had so unhappily prolonged them, surpassed
that of all; and so violent was his grief, that the spectators pitied
him almost as much as they did the martyr."
Thus did these two pious divines, and steadfast believers, testify,
with their blood, the truth of the everlasting gospel, upon which de-
pends all the sinner's hopes of salvation ; to suffer for which was the
joy, the glory of many eminent Christians, who, having followed their
dear Lord and Master through much tribulation in this vale of tears,
will be glorified for ever with him, in the kingdom of his Father and
our Father, of his God and our God.
Mr. Latimer, at the time of his death, was in the eightieth year of
his age, and preserved the principles he had professed with the most
distinguished magnanimity. He had naturally a happy temper,
formed on the principles of true Christianity. Such was his cheerful-
ness, that none of the accidents of life could discompose him ; such
was his fortitude, that not even the severest trials could unman him ;
he had a collected spirit, and on no occasion wanted a resource ; he
could retire within himself, and hold the world at defiance.
And as danger could not daunt, so neither could ambition allure
him ; though conversant in courts, and intimate with princes, he pre-
served, to the last, his primeval plainness ; in his profession he was
indefatigable ; and that he might bestow as much time as possible on
the active part of it, he allowed himself only those hours for his pri-
vate studies, when the busy world is at rest, constantly rising, ai all
seasons of the year, by two in the morning. How conscientious he
was in the discharge of the public duties of his office, we have many
348 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
examples. No man could persuade more forcibly ; no man could ex-
ert, on proper occasions, a more commanding severity. The wicked,
in whatever station, he rebuked with censorial dignity, and awed vice
by his firmness, more than the penal laws by their punishments.
He was not esteemed a very learned man, for he cultivated on'^
useful learning; and that he thought lay in a very narrow compass
He never engaged in worldly aflairs, thinking that a clergyman ough/
to employ himself only in his profession. Thus he lived, rather a good
than what the world calls a great man. He had not those command
ing talents which give superiority in business ; but for purity and sin-
cerity of heart, for true simplicity of manners, for apostolic zeal in the
cause of religion, and for every virtue, both of a public and private
kind, which should adorn the life of a Christian, he was eminent be-
yond most men of hi<5 own, or any other time.
As to his sermons, which are still extant, they are, indeed, very far
from being correct or elegant compositions, yet his simplicity and
low familiarity, his humour and drollery, were well adapted to the
times ; and his oratory, according to the mode of eloquence at that
day, was exceedingly popular. His action and manner of preaching
too, were very affecting ; and no wonder ; " for he spoke immediate!}'
from his heart." His abilities, however, as an orator, made only an
inferior part of his character as a preacher. What particularly re-
commends him, is that noble and apostclic zeal which he continually
exerted in the cause of truth.
Mr. Ridley was no less indefatigable in promoting the reformed re-
ligion, than his fellow sufl^erer, Mr. Latimer. He was naturally of a
very easy temper, and distinguished for his great piety and humanity
to the distressed. He persevered, to *he last, in that faith he had
professed, and cheerfully resigned his life in defence of the truth of
the gospel.
Both these worthy prelates, during their confinement, employed
their time in writing various pieces to propagate that gospel to which
they had so strictly adhered. They also wrote great numbers of let-
ters to their respective friends and particular acquaintances
SECTION vni.
PERSECUTIONS, DEATHS, AND MARTYRDOMS OF JOHN WEBB, CEORGE
ROPER, GREGORY PARKE, WILLIAM WISEMAN, JAMES GORE, AND JOHN
PHILPOT.
Martyrdoms of John Webb, George Roper, and Gregory Parke, at
Canterbury.
Mr. Webb was brought before Nicholas Harpsfield, or his deputy,
at Dover, on the 16th of September, and there had propounded unto
him such articles as were commonly administered by Bonner to those
of his jurisdiction. Being advised for the present to depart, and de-
liberate with himself upon the matter, against his next appearance; he
answered, " that he would say no otherwise (by God's grace) than
he had already said, which was, that the sacrament was simply a com
WISEMAN, GORE, AND PHILPOT. 349
memoration of the death ol the Lord for his church ; an^d that the bread
and wine underwent no transformation."
After this, on the 3d of October, and at several other times, Mr.
John Webb, George Roper, and Gregory Parke, were all brought to-
gether before the said judge ; and all of them steadfastly adhering to
the answer made before by Mr. Webb, were adjudged heretics ; and,
in consequence, about the end of the same month, they were brought
out of prison together to the place of martyrdom ; praying and re-
peating psalms in their way.
Being brought to the stake, and there fastened with a chain, they
were burnt altogether in one fire at Canterbury, most patiently en-
during their torments, and accounting themselves happy and blessed
of the Lord, that they were made worthy to suffer for his sake.
Death of William Wiseman, and of James Gore.
On the 13th of December, William Wiseman, a cloth-worker of Lon-
don, died in Lollard's tower, Avhere he had been confined on account
of his adherence to the gospel. It was suspected that he had been
starved to death; but the truth of this could not be ascertained.
After his death, the papists cast him out into the fields, as wis their
usual custom with such of the protestants as expired under their hands,
commanding that no man should bury him. Notwithstanding their
merciless commands, some pious Christians buried him in the evening,
as commonly they did all the rest thrown out in like manner, singing
psalms together at their burial.
In the same month also, James Gore, imprisoned and in bonds for
his resistance of the popish abominations, died in prison at Colchester.
History and Martyrdom of Mr. John Philpot.
Mr. Philpot was of a family highly respectable, (his father being a
knight,) and was born in Hampshire. He was brought up at New
College, Oxford, where he studied civil law and other branches of liberal
education, particularly the learned languages, and became a great pro-
ficient in the Hebrew. He was accomplished, courageous, and zeal-
ous ; ever careful to adorn his doctrine by his practice ; and his learn-
ing is fully evinced by what he has left on record.
Desirous to travel, he went over to Italy, and journeying from Ve-
nice to Padua, he was in danger through a Franciscan friar who ac-
companied him, and, at Padua, sought to accuse him of heresy. At
length returning into England, uncorrupted in liis morals, and strength-
ened in his faith, by beholding the monstrous absurdities and innu-
merable iniquities of antichrist in his strong hold, and finding that the
lime permitted more boldness unto hirn, it being the reign of King
Edward, he had several conflicts with Bishop Gardiner in the city of
Winchester.
After that, he was made archdeacon of Winchester, under Dr
Poinet, who then succeeded Gardiner in that bishopric, and here he
continued during the reign of King Edward, to the great profit of those
whom his office placed under his care. When the pious prince above
named was taken away, and Mary, his sister, succeeded, her study
was wholly to alter the state of religion in England : and first, she
caused a convocation of the prelates and other retainers of her faith,
to be assembled for the accomplishment of her desire.
350 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
In this convocation, Mr. Philpot, according to his degree, with a
few others, sustained the cause of the gospel against the adversary,
for which, notwithstanding the liberty the house had promised before,
he was called to account before the chancellor, by whom he was first
examined. From thence again he was removed' to Bishop Bonner,
and other commissioners, with whom he had divers conflicts, as may
appear by the following examinations, the account of which was
written by himself.
His first examination before the Covimissioners, at New Gate Ses-
sions-Hall, Oct. 2, 1555.
" Before I was called into an inner parlour, where the commission-
ers sat. Dr. Story came into the hall where I was, to view me among
others who were there ; and passing by me, he grossly observed, that
I was well fed indeed.
Philpot. Mr. Doctor, it is no marvel, since I have been stalled up
in prison these twelve months and a half.
Story. We hear thou art a suspected person, and of heretical opi-
nions, nnd therefore we have sent for thee.
Philpot. I have been in prison thus long, only upon the occasion
of disputation made in the convocation-house, and upon suspicion of
setting forth the report thereof.
Story. If thou wilt revoke the same, and become an honest man,
thou shalt be set at liberty, and do well ; or else thou shalt be com-
mitted to the bishop of London. How sayest thou, wilt thou revoke 1
Philpot. I have already answered in this behalf to mine ordinary.
Story. If thou answerest thus when thou comest before us anon,
thou shalt hear more of our minds ; and with that he went into the
parlour, and I a little while after was called in.
The Scribe. Sir, what is your name ?
Philpot. My lame is John Philpot. And so he entitled my name.
Story. This man was archdeacon of Winchester, of Dr. Poinet's
presentment.
Philpot. I was archdeacon, indeed, but none of his presentment ;
but by virtue of a former advowson given by my lord chancellor that
now is.
Story. You may be assured that my lord chancellor would not
make any such as he is archdeacon.
Roper. Come hither to me, Mr. Philpot. We hear that you are
out of the catholic church, and have been a disturber of the same ;
out cf which whoso is, he cannot be the child of salvation. Where-
fore if you will come into the same, you shall be received, and find
favour.
Philpot. I am come before your worshipful masterships at your ap-
pointment, understanding that you are magistrates authorized by the
queen's majesty, whom I own and will do my due obedience unto the
uttermost. Wherefore I desire to know what cause I have offended
in, for which I am now called before you. And if I cannot be charged
with any particular matter done contrary to the laws of this realm, I
desire of you that I may have the benefit of a subject, and be delivered
out of my wrongful imprisonment, where 1 have lain a year and a
half, wHhout any calling to answer before now, and my living taken
Q-om me without law.
JOHN PHILPOT. 351
Roper. Though we have no particular matter to charge you withal,
yet we may, by our commission, and by the law, drive you to answer
to the suspicion of a slander resting on you ; and besides this, we
have statutes to charge you herein withal.
Philpot. If I have ofl'ended any statute, charge me therewithal,
and if I have incurred the penalty thereof, punish me accordingly.
And because you are magistrates and executors of the queen's laws,
by force whereof you now sit, I desire that if I be not found a trans-
gressor of any of them, I may not be burthened with more than I have
done.
Cholmley. If the justice do suspect a felon, he may examine him
upon suspicion thereof, and commit him to prison, though there be
no fault done.
Story. I perceive whereabout this man goeth : he is plain in Card-
maker's case, for he made the same allegations. But they will not
serve thee ; for thou art a heretic, and boldest against the blessed
mass ; hoAV sayest thou to that ?
Philpot. I am no heretic.
Story. I will prove thee a heretic. "Whosoever hath held against
the blessed mass is a heretic : but thou hast held against the same,
therefore thou art a heretic.
Philpot. ■ That which I spake, and which you are able to charge me
withal, was in the convocation, where, by the queen's majesty's will
and her whole council, liberty was given to every man of the house
to utter his conscience, and to speak his mind freely of such questions
in religion as there were propounded by the prolocutor ; for which
now I thought not to be molested and imprisoned as I have been,
neither now to be compelled by you to answer for the same.
Story. Thou shalt go to Lollards' Tower, and be handled there
like a heretic as thou art, and answer to the same that thou there
didst speak, and be judged by the bishop of London.
Philpot. Sir, you know it is against all equity, that I should be
twice vexed for one cause, and that by such as by the law have no-
thing to do with me.
Roper. You cannot deny, but that you have spoken agamst the
mass in the convocation-house.
Story. Dost thou deny that which thou spakest there or no ?
Philpot. I cannot deny that I have spoken there, and if by the law
you may put me tc death for it, I am here ready to suffer whatsoever
I shall be judged unto.
The Scribe. This man is fed of vain-glory.
Cholmley. Play the wise gentleman and be conformable, and be
not stubborn in your opinion, neither cast yourself away. I would
be glad to do you good.
Philpot. 1 desire you, sir, with the rest here, that I be not charged
further at your hands, than the law chargeth me, for what I have
done, since there was no law directly against that wherewith I am
now charged. And you, Mr. Doctor, (of old acquaintance in Oxford,)
I trust will show me some friendship, and not extremity.
Story. I 'tell thee, if thou wouldst be a good catholic I woidc
spend my gown to do thee good ; but I will be no friend to a heretic,
as thou art, but will spend both my gown and my coat, but I will burn
thee. How sayest thou to the sacrament of the altar?
352 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Philpot. I am not come now to dispute, and the time serveth not
thereto, but to answer to that I may be lawfully charged withal.
Story. Well, since thou wilt not revoke that thou hast done, thou
shalt be had into Lollard's tower.
Philpot. Sir, since you will needs show me this extremity, and
charge me with my conscience, I desire to see your commission,
whether you have this authority so to do.
Story. Shall we let every vile person see our commission ? Let
'lim lie in the Lollard's tower ; for I will sweep the King's Bench
md all other prisons also, of these heretics ; they shall not have tha
resort as they have had, to scatter iheir heresies.
Philpot. I mind not whither you commit me, for I cannot be worse
used than I am.
Story. Marshal, take him home with you again, and see that you
bring him again on Thursday.
Philpot. God hath appointed a day shortly to come, in which he
will judge us with righteousness, however you judge of us now.
Roper. Show yourself a catholic man.
Philpot. Sir, if I should speak otherwise than my conscience is, I
should but dissemble with you ; and why be you so earnest to have
me show myself a dissembler both to God and you, which I cannot do ?
Roper. We do not require you to dissemble with us to be a catho-
'iic man.
Philpot. If I do stand in any thing against that, wherein any man
is able to burthen me with one jot of the scripture, I shall be content
to be counted no catholic man, or a heretic, as you please.
Story. This man is like his fellow, Woodman, who the other day
would have nothing but scripture. And this is the beginning of the
tragedy.
On the 24th of October, he was again brought before the same
party, and experienced from them the most harsh, illiberal, and vul
gar treatment. On demanding the fulfilment of their promise in be
ing shown their commission, the scribe, in compliance, began to open
it, when Dr. Cook, now added to their number, exclaimed.
Cook. Fie, what will ye do ? he shall not see it.
Philpot. Then you do me wrong, to call me and vex me, not
showing your authority in this behalf.
Cook. If we do you wrong, complain of us ; and in the mean time
thou shalt lie in the Lollards' tower.
Philpot. Sir, I am a poor gentleman; therefore I trust that you
will not commit me to so vile a place, being no heinous trespasser
Cook. Thou art no gentleman.
Philpot. Yes, I am.
Couk. A heretic is no gentleman ; for he is a gentleman that hath
gentle conditions.
Philpot. The offence cannot take away the state of a gentleman as
long as he liveth, although he were a traitor : but I mean not to boast
of my gentlemanship, but I will put it under my foot, since you do
no more esteem it.
Story. What, will you suffer this heretic to prate all day?
Cook. He saith he is a gentleman.
Story. A gentleman, said he ? he is a vile heretic knave : lor a
Martyrdom of Rawlins White. Page 317.
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Bishop Latimer examined before a Poinsh Tribunal.
Page 334.
Burning of Bishops Latimer and Bidley. Page 346.
JOHN PHILPOT. 353
heretic is no gentleman. Let the keeper of the Lollards' tower come
in, and have him away.
Keeper. Here, sir.
Story. Take this man with you to the Lollards' tower, else to the
bishop's coal house.
Philpot. Sir, if I were a dog, you could not appoint me a worse
nor more vile place: but I must be content with whatsover injury you
do offer me. God give you a more merciful heart ; you are very
cruel upon one that hath never offended you. I pray you, Mr.
Cholmley, shew me some friendship that I may not be carried to so
vile a place. On this Mr. Cholmley called me aside, and said : I
neither understand their doings nor their laws ; I cannot tell what
they mean. I would I could do you good.
After this, I, with four others, was brought to the keeper's house in
Paternoster-row, where we supped, and after supper I was called up
to a chamber by a servant of the archdeacon of London, and that in
his master's name, Avho offered me a bed for the night. I thanked
him, and said. That it woidd be a grief to me to lie one night well,
and the next night worse : wherefore, said I, I will begin as I am
likely to continue, to take such part as my fellows do. And with that
we were brought through Paternoster-row, to my lord of London's
coal-house ; unto which was joined a little dark house, with a great
pair of stocks, both for hand and foot ; and there we found a minis-
ter of Essex, a married priest, a man of godly-zeal, with one other
poor man. The minister at my coming desired to speak with me,
telling me that he greatly lamented his infirmity, for that through ex-
tremity of imprisonment, he had been constrained by writing to yield
to the bishop of London ; whereupon he had been set at liberty, and
afterwards felt such a hell in his conscience, that he could scarce re-
frain destroying himself, and never could be at qui.et until he went to
the bishop's register, desiring to see his bill again ; which as soon as
he received, he tore it in pieces, after which he was joyful as any
man. When my lord of London understood this, he sent for him^
and fell upon him like a lion, and buffeted him, so that he made his
face black and blue ; and plucked away a great piece of his beard.
His examination before Bishop Bonner.
The second night of my imprisonment in his coal-house, the bishopr
sent Mr. Johnson, his register, to me, with a mess of meat, and a good
pot of drink and some bread, saying, That he had no knowledge be-
fore of my being here, for which he was sorry : therefore he had sent
me and my fellows that meat, not knowing whether I would receive
the same.
I thanked God for his lordship's charity, that it pleased him to re-
member poor prisoners, desiring the Almighty to increase the same
•n him, and in all others; and that I would not refuse his beneficence
and therewith took the same unto mj' brethren.
Johnson. My lord would know the cause of your being sent hither,
(for he is ignorant thereof,) and wondereth that he should be trouliled
with prisoners that are not of his own diocese. On this I declared
unto him the whole cause. After which he said, that my lord's Avill
was, I should have any friendship I would desire, and so departed.
Within a while after, one o^ my lord's qfentlemen came for rne
23
354 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
and brought me into his presence, where he sat at a table with three
or four of his chaplains waiting upon him, and his register.
Bonner. Mr. Philpot you are welcome ; give me your hand.
(Which I did.)
Then said he, I am sorry for your trouble, and promise you, that
till within these two hours I knew not of your being here. I pray
you tell me the cause ; for I promise you I know nothing thereof as
yet, and marvel that other men will trouble me with their matters ;
but I must be obedient to my betters, and I fear men speak otherwise
of me than I deserve.
I told him that it was for the disputation in the convocation-house,
for which I was, against all right, molested.
Bonner. I marvel that you should be troubled for that, if there was
no other cause. But peradventure you have maintained the same
since, and some of your friends of late have asked, Avhether you do
stand to the same, and ye have said, yea ; and for this you might be
committed to prison.
Philpot. If it shall please your lordship I am burdened no otherwise
than I have told you, by the commissioners who sent me hither, be-
cause I would not recant the same.
Bonner. A man may speak in the parliament house, though it be
a place of free speech, so as he may be imprisoned for it, as in case
he speak words of high treason against the king and queen ; and so it
might be that you spake otherwise than it became you of the church
of Christ.
Philpot. I spake nothing which Avas out of the articles which were
called in question, and agreed upon to be disputed by the whole
house, and by permission of the queen and council.
Bonner. Why, may we dispute of our faith f.
Philpot. That we may.
Bonner. Nay, I think not, by the law.
Philpot. Indeed, by the civil law I know it is not lawful, but by
God's law we may reason thereof. For St. Peter saith, " Be ye ready
to render account unto all men of the hope which is in you."
Bonner. Indeed, St. Peter saith so. Why, then, I ask of you what
your judgment is of the sacrament of the altar?
Philpot. My lord, St. Ambrose saith, that the disputation of faith
ought to be in the congregation, in the hearing of the people, and that
I am not bound to render account thereof to every man privately,
unless it be to edify. But now I cannot show you my mind, but I
must run upon the pikes in danger of my life for it. Wherefore, as
the said doctor said unto Valentinian the emperor, so say I to your
lordship ; take away the law and I shall reason with you. And yet if
I come in open judgment, where I arji bound by the law to answer, I
trust I shall utter my conscience as freely as any.
Bonner. I perceive you are learned ; I would have such as you
about me. But you must come and be of the church, for there is but
one church.
Philpot. God forbid I should be out of the church! I am sure I
am within the same ; for I know, as I am taught by the scripture, that
there is but one catholic church, one dove, one spouse, one beloved
congregation, out of which there is no salvation.
Bonner. How chancetii it, then, that you go out of the same, and
walk not with us ?
JOHN PHILPOT
355
Philpot. My lord, I am sure I am within the bounds of the churci
whereupon she is built, which is the word of God.
Bonner. What age are you of?
Philpot T am four and forty.
Bonner. You are not now of the same faith your godfathers and
godmother* promised for you, in which you were baptized.
Philpot Yes, I am ; for I was baptized into the faith of Christ,
which I now hold.
Bonnes How can that be ? there is but one faith.
Philpnt. I am assured of that by St. Paul, saying, " That there is
but one God, one faith, and one baptism," of which I am.
Bonver. You were, twenty years ago, of another faith than you
are now.
Philpot. Indeed, my lord, to tell you plain, I was then of no faith ;
a neuter, a wicked liver, neither hot nor cold.
Bonner. Why, do you not think that we have now the true faith ?
Philpot. I desire your lordship to hold me excused for answering
at this time. I am sure that God's word was thoroughly with the
primitive church.
Bonner. Well, I promise you I mean you no hurt. I will not, there-
fore, burden you with your conscience now ; I marvel that you are so
merry in prison as you are, singing and rejoicing as the prophet saith,
rejoicing in your naughtiness. Methinks you do not well herein; you
should rather lament and be sorry.
Philpot. My lord, the mirth that we make is but in singing certain
psalms, according as we are commanded by Si. Paul, willing us to be
merry in the Lord, singing together in hymns and psalms ; and I trust
your lordship cannot be displeased with that.
We are, my lord, in a dark comfortless place, and, therefore, it be-
hoveth us to be merry, lest, as Solomon saith, sorrowfulness eat up
our heart.
Bonner. I will trouble you no farther now. If I can do you any
good. I shall be glad. God be with you, good Mr. Philpot, and
good night. Take him to the cellar, and let him drink a cup of
wine.
Thus I departed, and, by my lord's register, I was brought to his
cellar door, where I drank a good cup of wine. And my lord's chap-
lain, Mr. Cousin, followed me, making acquaintance, saying that I was
welcome, and wished that I would not be singular.
Philpot. I am well taught the contrary by Solomon, saying, " Wo
be to him that is alone." After that I was carried to my lord's coal-
house again, where I, with my six companions, housed together in
straw as cneerfully as others in their beds of down.
Fourth Examination of Mr. Philpot, before the Bishops of London
Bath, Worcester, and Gloucester.
Bonner. Mr. Philpot, it hath pleased my lords to take pains here
to-day, to dine v ;lh my poor archdeacon, and in the dinner time it
chanced us to havf; commtmication of you, and you were pitied here by
many who knew you at New-College, in Oxford. And I also do pity
your case, because you seem unto me, by the talk I had with you the
other night, to be learned ; and, therefore, now I have sent for you to
356 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
come before them, that it might not be said hereafter, that I had sc
many learned bishops at my house, and yet would not vouchsafe them
to talk with you, and at my request (I thank them) they are content
so to do. Now, therefore, utter your mind freely, and you shall with
all favour be satisfied. I am sorry to see you lie in so evil a case
as you do, and would fain you should do better, as you may if you
please.
Bath. My lords here have not sent for you to fawn upon you,
but for charity sake to exhort you to come into the right catholic
church.
Worcester. Before he beginneth to speak, it is best that he call
upon God for grace, and to pray that it might please God to open his
heart, that it may conceive the truth.
Philpot. With that I fell down upon my knees before them, and
made my prayer on this manner :
" Almighty God, who art the giver of all Avisdom and understand-
ing, I beseech thee of thine infinite goodness and mercy in Jesus
Christ, to give me (a most vile sinner in thy sight) the spirit of wis-
dom to speak and make answer in thy cause, that it may be to the
satisfaction of the hearers, before whom I stand, and also to my bet-
ter understanding if I be deceived in any thing."
Bonner. Nay, my lord of Worcester, you did not well to exhort
him to make any prayer. For this is the thing they have a singular
pride in, that they can often make their vain prayers, in which they
glory much. For in this point they are much like to certain arrant
heretics, of whom Pliny maketh mention, that did daily sing praises
unto God before dawning of the day.
Philpot. My lord, God make me, and all you here present, such
heretics as those were that sung those morning hymns ; for they were
right Christians, with whom the tyrants of the world were offended.
Bath. Proceed to what he hath to say. He hath prayed, I cannot
tell for what.
Bonner. Say on, Mr. Philpot ; my lords will gladly hear you.
Philpot. I have, my lords, been these twelve months and a half in
prison without any just cause, and my living is taken from me without
any lawful order, and now I am brought (contrary to right) from my
own territory and ordinary, into another man's jurisdiction, I know
not why. Wherefore, if your lordships can burden me with any evil
done, I stand here before you to purge me of the same. And if no
such thing can be justly laid to my charge, I desire to be released.
Bonner. There is none here that goeth about to trouble you, but
to do you good, if we can. For I promise you. you were pent hither
to me without my knowledge. Therefore speak your conscience
without any fear.
Philpot. My lords, it is not unknown to you, that the chief cause
why you count me, and such as I am, for heretics, is because we be
not at unity with your church. You say, that whatsoever is out of
your church is damned ; and we think verily, on the other side, that
if we depart from the true church, whereon we are grafted by God's
word, we shall stand in the state of damnation. Whereof if your lord-
ships can bring any better authority for your church than we can for
ours, and prove by the scriptures that the church of Rome now is the
true catholic church, as in all sermons, writings, and arguments,
JOHN PHILPOT. 357
you uphold ; and tliat all Christian persons ought to be ruled by the
same, under pain of damnation, (as you say,) and that the same church
(as you pretend) hath authority to interpret the scriptures as it seem-
eth good to her, and that all men are bound to follow such interpreta-
tions only ; I shall be as conformable to the same church as you may
desire, which otherwise I dare not.
Cole. If you stand upon this point only, you may soon be satisfied
if you please.
Philpot. It is what I require, and to this I will stand, and refer all
other controversies wherein I now am against you, and will put my
hand thereto, if you mistrust my word.
Banner. I pray you, Mr. Philpot, what faith were you of twenty
years ago ? This man mil have every year a new faith.
Philpot. My lord, to tell you plain, I think I was of no faith ; for
I was then a wicked liver, and knew not God then as I ought to do,
God forgive me.
Bonner. No faith ? that is not so. I am sure you were of some
faith.
Philpot. My lord, I have declared to you on my conscience what
[ then was, and judge of myself. And what is that to the purpose of
the thing I desire to be satisfied of you?
Bonner. Doctor Cole, I pray you speak your mind to him.
Cole. "What will you say, if 1 can prove it was decreed by an uni-
versal council in Athanasius' time, that all the Christian church
should follow the determination of the church of Rome ? but I do not
now remember where.
Philpot. If you, Mr. Doctor, can show me the same granted to the
see of Rome by the authority of the scripture, I Avill gladly hearken
thereto. But I think you are not able to show any such thing ; for
Athanasius was president of the Nicene council, and there was no
such thing decreed.
Cole. Though it were not then, it might be at another time.
Philpot. I desire to see the proof thereof.
Upon this, Mr. Harpsfield, the chancellor to the bishop of London,
brought in a book of Irenaeus, with certain leaves turned in, and laid
it before the bishops to help them in their perplexity, if it might be ;
which, after the bishops of Bath and Gloucester had read together,
the latter gave me the book, and said :
Take the book, Mr. Philpot, and look upon that place, and there
you may see how the church of Rome is to be followed of all men.
On this I took the book and read the place, after which I said it
made nothing against me, but against Arians, and other heretics,
against whom Irenseus wrote.
Worcester. It is to be proved most manifestly by all ancient wri-
ters, that the see of Rome hath always followed the truth, and never
was deceived, until of late certain heretics had defaced the same.
Philpot. Let that be proved, and I have done.
Worcester. Nay, you are of such arrogancy, singularity, and vain
glory, that you will never see it, be it ever so well proved.
Philpot. Ha ! my lords, is it now time, think you, for me to follow
singularity or vain glory, since it is now upon danger of my life, and
death, not only presently, but also before God to come? And, I know
if I die not in the true faith, I shall die everlastingly ; and again 1
358 BOOK OF MARTYRS
know, if I do not as you would have me, you will kill me and a great
many more ; yet I had rather perish in your hands, than perish eter-
nally. And at this time I have lost all my goods of this world, and
lie in a coal-house, where a man would not lay a dog.
Cole. Where are you able to prove that the church of Rome hath
erred at any time I and by what history ? Certain it is by Eusebius.
that the church was established at Rome by Peter and Paul, and that
Peter was bishop twenty-five years at Rome.
Philpot. I know well that Eusebius so writeth ; but if we compare
that which St. Paul writeth to the Galatians, Gal. i. the contrary will
manifestly appear, that he was not half so long there. He lived not
past thirty-five years after he was called to be an apostle ; and St.
Paul maketh mention of his abiding at Jerusalem after Christ's death
more than thirteen years. And further, I am able to prove, both by
Eusebius and other historiographers, that the church of Rome hath
manifestly erred, and at this present doth err, because sheagreeth not
with that which they wrote. The primitive church did use according
to the gospel, and there needeth none other proof, but to compare the
one with the other.
Bonner. I may compare this man to a certain one I read of who
fell into a desperation, and went into a wood to hang himself, and
when he came there, he went viewing of every tree, and could find
none on which he might vouchsafe to hang himself. But I will not
apply this as I might. I pray you (Mr. Doctor) go forth with him.
Cole. My lord, there is on every side of me, some who are better
able to answer him, and I love not to fall into disputation : for we
now-a-days sustain shame and obloquy thereby of the people. I had
rather show my mind in writing.
Philpot. And I had rather you skeult' do so than otherwise, for
then a man may better judge of your words, than by argument ; and I
beseech you to do so. But if I were a rich man, I durst wager an
hundred pounds that you shall not be able to show me that you have
said, to be decreed by a general council in Athanasius' time. For
this I am sur.o of, that it was concluded by a general council in Africa,
many years after, that none of Africa (under pain of excommunication)
should appeal to Rome: which decree I am sure they would not have
made, if by the scriptures and by a universal council it had been de-
creed, that all men should abide and follow the determination of the
church of Rome.
Cole. But I can show that thej- revoked that error again.
Philpot. So you say, Mr. Doctor, but I pray you show me where
I have hitherto heard nothing from you to my satisfaction, but bare
words without any authority.
Bonner. What, I pray you, ought we to dispute with you of our
faith? Justinian in the' law hath a title, De fide Catholica, to the
contrary.
Philpot. I am certain the civil law hath such a constitution : but our
faith must not depend upon the civil law. For, as St. Ambrose saith
Not the law, but the gospel, hath gathered the church together.
Worcester. Mr. Philpot, you have the spirit of pride wherewith
you be led, which will not let you yield to the truth: leave it off, lot
tiharne.
JOHN PHILPOT. 359
Pkilpot. Sir, i am sure I liave the spirit of faith, by which I speak
at this present ; neither am I ashamed to stand to my faith.
Gloucester. What : do you think yourself better learned than so
many notable learned men as are here ?
P'hiljpot. Elias alone had the truth, when there were four hundred
priests against him.
Worcester. Oh, you would be counted now for Elias ! And yet I
tell thee he was deceived : for he thought there had been none good
but himself; and yet he was deceived, for there were seven thousand
besides him.
Philpot. Yea, but he was not deceived in doctrine, as the other
four hundred were.
Worcester. Do you think the universal church may be deceived ?
Philpot. St. Paul to the Thessalonians prophesied that there should
come a universal departing from the faith, in the latter days, before
the coming of Christ, saying, that " Christ shall not come, till there
come departing first."
Worcester. I am sorry that you should be against the Christian
world.
Philpot. The world commonly, and such as are called Christians,
have hated the truth, and been enemies of the same.
Gloucester. Why, Mr. Philpot, do you think that the universal
church hath erred, and that you only are in the truth ?
Philpot. The church that you are of was never universal, for two
parts of the world, which are Asia and Africa, never consented to the
supremacy of the bishop of Rome, neither did they follow his decrees
Gloucester. Yes, in the Florentine council they did agree.
Philpot. It was said so by false report, after they of Asia and Africa
were gone home : but it was not so indeed, as the sequel of them all
proved the contrary.
Gloucester. I pray you by whom will you be judged in matters of
controversy which happen daily ?
Philpot. By the word of God. For Christ saith, in St. John,
" The word that he spake, shall he judge in the latter day."
Gloucester. What \i you take the word one way and /another way,
who shall be judge then ?
Philpot. The primitive church.
Gloucester. I know you mean the doctors that wrote thereof.
Philpot. I mean verily so.
Gloucester. What if you take the doctors in one sense, and I in
another, who shall be judge then?
Philpot. Then let that be taken which is most agreeable to God's
word.
Worcester. Thou art the arrogantest fellow that ever I knew.
Philpot. I pray your lordship to bear with my hasty speech ; it i
part of my corrupt nature to speak somewhat hastily ; but for all that,
I mean with humility to do my duty to your lordship.
Bonner. Mr. Philpot, my lords will trouble you no further at this
time, but you shall go hence to the place whence you came, and have
such favour as in the mean while I can show you; and upon Wednes-
day next you shall be called upon again, to be heard what you can say
for the maintenance of your error.
360
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Philpot. My lord, my desire is to be satisfied of you in that I re
quired ; and your lordship shall find me as I have said.
Worcester. God send you more grace.
Philpot. And increase the same in you, and open your eyes, that
you may see to maintain his truth, and his true church.
Then the bishops rose, and after consulting together, caused a wri-
ting to be made, in which I think my blood by them was bought and
sold, and thereunto they put their hands ; after which I was carried
to my coal-house again.
The fifth examination of Mr. Philpot before the bishops of London,
Rochester, St. Asaph, and others.
Bonner. Mr. Philpot, come you hither ; I have desired my lords
here and other learned men, to take some pains once again to do you
good, and because I do mind to sit in judgment on you to-morrow,
as I am commanded, yet I would you should have as much favour as
I can show you, if you will be any thing conformable ; therefore
play the wise man, and be not singular in your own opinion, but be
ruled by these learned men.
Philpot. My lord, in that you say you will set on me in judgment
to-morrow, I am glad thereof; for I was promised by them which
sent me unto you, that I should have been judged the next day after :
but promise hath not been kept with me, to my farther grief. I look
for none other but death at your hands, and I am as ready to yield my
life in Christ's cause, as you are to require it.
Having argued some time upon questions of civil law, the subject
of papal supremacy was resumed.
St. Asaph. It is most evident that St, Peter did build the Catholic
church at Rome, And Christ said, " Thou art Peter, and upon this
rock will I build my church," Moreover, the succession of bishops
in the see of Rome can be proved from time to time, as it can be of
none other place so well, which is a manifest probation of the Catho-
lic church, as divers doctors do write.
Philpot. That you would have to be undoubted, is most vmcertain.
and that by the authority which you allege of Christ, saying unto
Peter, " Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church,"
unless you can prove that rock to signify Rome, as you would make
me falsely believe. And although you can prove the succession of
bishops from Peter, yet this is not sufficient to prove Rome the Catho-
lic church, unless you can prove the profession of Petei-'s faith, where-
upon the Roman Catholic church is built, to have continued in his
?uccessors at Rome, and at this present to remain.*
Bonner. Are there any more churches than one Catholic church?
\nd I pray you tell me into what faith were you baptized ?
Philpot. I acknowledge one holy Catholic and apostolic church,
♦ This unanswerable argument, we see, was evaded by the bishops; as it always '3
by the professors of popery; — they rely upon the mere succession ot' bishops, as bei'ig
gijifficient to prove that they are in every respect the same, whereas nothing can be
more fallacious : as well might the followers of the impostor Mahomet be considereJ as
the successors of tlie apostles, because they have usurped tlie couiitry sanctified by
tl>e labours of the first followers of our blessed Lord. And, in truth, their tenets dif-
fer not much more widely from real and genuine Christianity, than those of tJie up-
tol Jers of papacy and superstition.
JOHN PHILPOT. S6\
whereof I am a member, (I praise God,) and am of that catholic faith
of Christ, whereunto I was baptized.
Coventry. I pray, can you tell what this word catholic doth sig-
nify ? *
Philpot. Yes, I can, thank God. The catholic faith, or the catho-
lic church, is not, as the people are taught, that which is most universal,
or by most part of men received, whereby you infer our faith to hang
upon the multitude ; but I esteem the catholic church to be as St.
Austin defineth : " We judge," saith he, " the catholic faith, of that
which hath been, is, and shall be." So that if you can be able to
prove that your faith and church hath been from the beginning taught,
and is, and shall be, then you may count yourselves catholic, other-
wise not. And catholic is a Greek word, compounded of kata, which
signifieth, after, or according, and holon, a sum, or principle, or whole.
So that CATHOLIC CHURCH, or CATHOLIC FAITH, is as mucli as to say,
the first, whole, sound, or chief faith.
Bomier. Doth St. Austin say as he allegeth it? or doth he mean
as he taketh the same ? How say you Mr. Curtop ?
Curtop. Indeed, my lord, St. Austin hath such a saying, speaking
against the Donatists, that the catholic faith ought to be esteemed of
things in time past, and as they are practised according to the same,
and ought to be through all ages, and not after a new manner, as the
Donatists began to profess.
Philpot. You have said well, Mr. Curtop, and after the meaning
of St. Austin, and to confirm that which I have said for the significa-
tion of catholic.
Coventry. Let the book be seen, my lord.
Bonner. I pray you, my lord, be content, or in good faith I will
break even off, and let all alone. Do you think that the catholic church
(until within these few years, in which a few from singularity have
swerved from the same,) hath erred ?
Philpot. I do not think that the catholic church can err in doctrine :
but I require you to prove this church of Rome to be the catholic
church.
Curtop. I can prove that Irenaeus (which was within a hundred
years after Christ,) came to Victor, then bishop of Rome, to ask his
advice about the excommunication of certain heretics, which (by all
likelihood) he would not have done, if he had not taken him to be
supreme head.
Coventry. Mark well this argument. How are you able to answer
the same ? Answer if you can.
Philpot. It is soon answered, my lord, for that is of no force : nei
ther doth this fact of Irenaeus make any more for the supremacy of
the bishop of Rome, than mine hath done, who l;iave been at Rome as
\vell as he, and might have spoken with the pope if I had listed ; and
vet I would none in England did favour his supremacy more than I.
St. Asaph. You are more to blame (by the faith of my body) for
that you favour the same no better, since all the catholic church,
^mtil these few years,) have taken him to be the supreme head of the
:;hurch, besides this good man Irenaeus.
Philpot. That is not likely that Irenaeus so took him, or the primi-
live church : for I am able to show seven general councils after Ire-
naeus' time, wherein he was never taken for supreme head.
362 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
The other Bishop. This man will never be satisfied, say w iat we
can. It is but folly to reason any more with him.
Philpot. O, my lords, would you have me satisfied with nothing!
Judge, I pray you, who hath better authority, he Avhich bringelh the
example of one man going to Rome, or I, that by these many general
councils am able to prove, that he was never so taken in many hundred
years after Clirist, as by Nicene, Ephesiue, the first and second Chal-
cedon, Constantinopolitan, Carthaginese, Aquilense.
Coventry. Why will you not admit the church of Rome to be the
catholic church?
Philpot. Because it followeth not the primitive catholic church,
neither agreeth with the same.
Coventry. Wherein doth it dissent?
Philpot. It were too long to recite all, but two things I will name,
supremacy and transubstantiation.
Dr. Saverson. I wonder you will stand so steadfast in your error,
to your own destruction.
Philpot. I am sure we are in no error, by the promise of Christ
made to the faithful once, which is, that he will give to his true church
such a spirit of wisdom, that the adversaries thereof should never be
able to resist. And by this I know we are of the truth, for that neither
by reasoning, neither by writing, your synagogue of Rome is able to
answer. Where is there one of you all that ever hath been able to
answer any of the godly ministers of Germany, who have disclosed
your counterfeit religion ? Which of you all (at this day) is able to
answer Calvin's institutions ?
Dr. Saverson. A godly minister indeed, a receiver of cut-purses
and runagate traitors. And of late, I can tell you, there is such con-
tention fallen between him and his own sect, that he was obliged to
fly the town, about predestination. I tell you truth, for I came by
Geneva here.
Philpot. I am sure you blaspheme him, and that church where he
is minister ; as it is your church's disposition, when you cannot an-
swer men by learning, to answer them Avith blasphemies and false re-
ports. For in the matter of predestination he is in no other opinion
than all the doctors of the church be, agreeing to the scripture.
Saverson. Men are able to answer him if they will. And I pray
which of you has answered Bishop Fisher's book ?
Philpot. Yes, Mr. Doctor, that book is answered, and answered
again, as you may see, if you like to see what hath been written
against him.
And after this Dr. Story came in. To whom I said, Mr. Doctor,
you have done me great injury, and without law have straitly impri-
soned me, more like a dog than a man. And besides this you have
not kept promise with me, for you promised that I should be judged
the next day after.
Story. I am come now to keep promise with thee. Was there ever
such a fantastical man as this is ? Nay, he is no man, he is a beast '
yea, these heretics be worse than bruie beasts ; for they will upon a
vain singularity take upon them to be wiser than all men, being indeed
very fools and ass-heads, not able to maintain that which of an arro-
gant obstinacy they do stand in.
Philpot. I am content to abide your railing judgment of me now
JOHN PHILPOT. 803
Say what you will, I am content, for I am under your feet to be trod
den on as you like. God forgive it you ; yet I am no heretic. Nei-
ther you nor any other shall be able to prove that I hold one jol
against the word of God otherwise than a Christian man ought.
Story. The word of God, forsooth ! It is but folly to reason with
these heretics, for they are incurable and desperate. But yet I may
reason with thee, not that I have any hope to win thee : whom wilt
thou appoint to judge of the word whereto thou standest?
Philpot. Verily, the word itself.
Stori/. Do you not see the ignorance of this beastly heretic ? he
willeth the word to be judged of the word. Can the word speak 1
Philpot. If I cannot prove that which I have said by good autho-
rity, I will be content to be counted a heretic and an ignorant per-
son, and farther, what you please.
Story. Let us hear what wise authority thou canst bring in.
Philpot. It is the word of Christ in St. John, " The word which
I have spoken, shall judge in the last day." If the word shall judge
in the last day, how much more ought it to judge of our doings now?
and I am sure I have my judge on my side, who will absolve and jus-
tify me in another world. Howsoever now it shall please you by
authority unrighteously to judge of me and others, sure I am in ano-
ther world to judge you.
Story. Well, sir, you are like to go after your father, Latimer the
sophister, and Ridley, who had nothing to allege for himself but that
he learned his heresy of Cranmer. But I despatched them ; and I
tell thee that there never yet hath been one burnt, but I have spoke
with him, and have been a cause of his despatch.*
Philpot. You will have the more to answer for, Mr. Doctor, as you
shall feel in another world, how much soever you now triumph.
Story. I tell thee I Vv^ill never be confessed thereof. And because
I cannot now tarry to speak with my lord, I pray one of you to tel
my lord, that my coming was to signify to his lordship, that he must
out of hand put this heretic out of the way. And going away, he said
to me, I certify thee, that thou mayest thank no other man but me.
Philpot. I thank you therefore with all my heart, and forgive it you.
Story. What, dost thou thank me ? If I had thee in my study
half an hour, I think I should make thee sing another song.
Philpot. No, Mr. Doctor, I stand upon too sure ground to be over-
thrown by you now. And thus they departed from me, one after
another, until I was left alone. And afterwards going with my keeper
to the coal-house, as I went I met my lord of London, who spoke unto
me verji" gently.
Bonner. Philpot, if there be any pleasure I may shoM' thee in my
house, I pray you require it, and you shall have it.
Philpot. My lord, the pleasure that I will require of your lord-
* The candid reader will doubtless be ready to inquire, Could a man who thus
boasted of his wanton sacrifice of human life, be endued with the spirit of the Redeem-
er ? Unable to offer a single argument, he overwhelms his victims with abuse, and
glories in having been an liistnunent of bringing many to the stake — that conclusive
reply with which the papists found it so convenient to stop the mouths of those whose
doctrines they could not controvert, and which it is believed, they would now gladlv
press into their service, were their abiUty equal to their desires.
3ti4 BOOK OP MARTTRS.
ship, IS to hasten my judgment which is committed unto you, and to
despatch me out of this miserable world unto my eternal rest. And for
all this fair speech I cannot attain hitherto, this fortnight's space,
either fire, candle, or good lodging. But it is good for a man to be
brought low in this world, and to be counted among the vilest, that
he may in time of reward receive exaltation and glory. Therefore
praised be God that hath humbled me, and given me grace with glad-
ness to be content therewith. Let all who love the truth say Amen.
His sixth examination, hefore the Lord Chamberlain, the Bishop oj
London, Lords Rich, St. John, Windsor, Shandois, Sir John
Bridges, Dr. Chedsey, and others, Nov. 6, 1555.
While the lords were seating themselves, the bishop of London
came and whispered in my ear, desiring me to behave prudently be-
fore the lords of the queen's council, and to take heed what I said.
He then, after the lords and other gentlemen v/ere sat, placed
himself at the end of the table, and called me to him, and by the lords
I was placed at the upper end against him ; where I kneeling down,
the lords commanded me to stand up, and the bishop spoke to me in
the following manner.
Bonner. Mr. Philpot, I have heretofore both privately myself, and
openly before the lords of the clergy, more times than once, caused
you to be conversed with, to reform you of your errors, but I have
not yet found you so tractable as I could wish : wherefore now I have
desired those honourable lords of the temporality, and of the queen's
majesty's council, who have taken pains Avith me this day, I thank
them for it, to hear you, and what you can say, that they may be
judges whether I have sought all means to do you good or not : and
I dare be bold to say in their behalf, that if you show yourself con-
formable to the queen's majesty's proceedings, you shall find as much
favour for your deliverance as you can wish. I speak not this to fawn
upon you, but to bring you home unto the church. Now let them
hear what you have to say.
Philpot. My lord, I thank God that I have this day such an ho-
nourable audience to declare my mind before. And- 1 cannot but com-
mend your lordship's equity in this behalf, which agreeth with the
order of the primitive church, which was, if any body had been sus-
pected of heresy, as I am now, he should be called first before the
archbishop or bishop of the diocese where he was suspected ; secondly,
in the presence of others his fellow bishops and learned elders ; and
thirdly, in hearing of the laity : where, after the judgment of God's
word declared, and with the assent of the bishops and consent of the
people, he was condemned for a heretic, or absolved. And the second
point of that good order I have found at your lordship's hands al-
ready, in being called before you and your fellow-bishops ; and now
have the third sort of men, at whose hands I trust to find more righ-
teousness in my cause, than I have found with the clergy : God grant
that I may have at the last the judgment of God's word concerning
the same.
Bonner. Mr. Philpot, I pray you, ere you go farther, tell my lord's
here plainly, whether you were by me, or by my procurement, com-
mitted to prison or not, and whether I have showed you any cruelty
since you have been committed to my prison.
JOHN PHILPOT. 365
Philpot. If it shall please your lordship to give me leave to de
clare forth my matter, I will touch that afterward.
Lord Rich. Answer first of all to my lord's two questions, and
then proceed to the matter. How say you ? Were you imprisoned
oy my lord, or not? Can you find any fault since with his cruel using
of you ?
Philpot. I cannot lay to my lord's charge the cause of my impri-
sonment, neither may I say that he hath used me cruelly ; but rather
for my part I may say, that I have found more gentleness at his hands
than I did at my own ordinary's, for the time I have been within his
prison, because he hath called me three or four times to mine answer,
to which I was not called in a year and a half before
Rich. Well, noAV go to your matter.
Philpot. The matter is, that I am imprisoned for the disputations
held by me in the convocation-house, against the sacrament of the
altar, -which matter was not moved principally by me, but by the pro-
locutor, with the consent of the queen's majesty and of the whole
house, and that house, being a member of the parliament-house,
which ought to be a place of free speech for all men of the house,
by the ancient and laudable custom of this realm. Wherefore 1
think myself to have sustained hitherto great injury for speaking my
conscience freely in such a place as I might lawfully do it : and I de-
sire your honourable lordships' judgment, who are of the parliament-
house, whether of right I ought to be impeached for the same, and sus-
tain the loss of my living, (as I have done,) and moreover my life, as
it is sought.
Rich. You are deceived herein ; for the convocation-house is no
part of the parliament-house.
Philpot. My lord, I have always understood the contrary by such
as are more expert men in things of this realm than I ; and again,
the title of every act leadeth me to think otherwise, which allegeth
the agreement of the spirituality and temporality assembled to-
gether.
Rich. That is meant of the spiritual lords of the upper house.
Lord Windsor. Indeed the convocation-house is called together by
one writ of the summons of the parliament, of an old custom ; not
withstanding, that house is no part of the parliament-house. .
Philpot. My lords, I must be content to abide your judgments in
this behalf.
Rich. We have told you the truth. And yet we would not that
you should be troubled for any thing that there was spoken, so that
you having spoken amiss, do declare now you are sorry for what you
have said.
Bonner. My lords, he hath spoken there manifest heresy, yea, and
there stoutly maintained the same against the blessed sacrament of the
altar, (and with that he put off his cap, that all the lords might reve-
rence and vail their bonnets at that idol as he did,) and would not al-
low the real presence of the body and blood of Christ in the same *
yet, my lords, God forbid that I should endeavour to show him extre-
mity for so doing, in case he will repent and revoke his wicked say-
ngs ; and if in faith he will so do, with your lordships' c<r-sent, he
shall be released by and by ; if he will not, he shall have the extremity
of the law, and that shortly.
366 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Rich. How say you ? will you acknowledge the real presence of
the body and blood of Christ, as all learned men of this realm do, in
the mass, and as I do, and will believe as long as I live, 1 do pro-
test it?
Philpot. My lord, I do acknowledge in the sacrament of the body
and blood of Christ such a presence as the word of God doth allow
and teach me.
Rick. That shall be no otherwise than you like.
Bonner. A sacrament is the sign of a holy thing ; so that there is
both the sign which is the accident, (as the whiteness, roundness, and
shape of bread,) and there is also the thing itself, as very Christ, both
God and man. But these heretics will have the sacrament to be but
bare signs. How say you? declare unto my lords here Avhether you
allow the thing itself in the sacrament, or no.
Philpot. I do confess, that in the Lord's supper there are, in due
respects, both the sign, and the thing signified, when it is duly admi-
nistered after the institution of Christ.
Rich. Show us what manner of presence you allow in the sacra-
ment.
Philpot. My lords, the reason that at first I have not plainly de-
clared my judgment unto you, is because I cannot speak without the
danger of my life.
Rich. There is none of us here who seek thy life, or mean to take
any advantage of that thou shalt speak.
Philpot. Although I mistrust not your lordships that be here of the
temporality, yet here is one that sitteth against me, (pointing to the
lord of London,) that will lay it to my charge even to death. Not-
withstanding, seeing you require me to declare my mind of the pre-
sence of Christ in the sacrament, that ye may perceive I am not
ashamed of the presence of Christ, neither do maintain any opinion
without probable and sufiicient authority of the scripture, I will show
you frankly my mind.
I do protest here, first before God and his angels, that I speak it
not of vain glory, neither of singularity, neither of wilful stubborn-
ness, but truly upon a good conscience, grounded upon God's word,
against which I dare not go for fear of damnation, which will follow
that which is done contrary to knowledge.
There are two things principally, by which the clergy at this day
deceive the whole realm ; that is, the sacrament of the body and blood
of Christ, and the name of the catholic church ; which they do both
usurp, having, indeed, neither of them. And as touching their sacra-
ment, which they term of the altar, I say, that it is not the sacrament
of Christ, neither in the same is there any manner of Christ's pre-
sence. Wherefore they deceive the queen, and you ihe nobility of
this realm, in making you believe that to be a sacrament which is
none, and cause you to commit manifest idolatry in worshipping that
for God, which is no God. And in testimony of this to be true, be-
sides manifest proof, which I am able to make, I will yield my life ,
which to do, if it were not upon sure ground, it were to my utter dam-
nation.
And vhere they take on them the name of the catliolic church,
'whereby they blind many people's eyes,) they are nothing so, calling
JOHN PHILPOT 367
you from the true religion which was revealed and taught in King
Edward's time, unto vain superstition. And this I will say for the trial
hereof, that if they can prove themselves to be the catholic church, I
will never be against their doings, but revoke all that I have said. And
I shall desire you, my lords, to be a means for me to the queen's ma-
jesty, that I may be brought to a just trial hereof.
Bonner. It hath been told me before, that you love to make a long
tale.
Rich. All heretics boast of the spirit of God, and every one would
have a church by himself; as Joan of Kent, and the anabaptists. I
had myself Joan of Kent a week in ray house, after the writ was out
for her being burnt, where my lord of Canterbury, and Bishop Ridley,
resorted almost daily unto her ; but she was so high in the spirit, that
they could do nothing with her for all their learning. But she went
wilfully into the fire, as you do now.
Philpot. As for Joan cf Kent, she was a vain woman, (I knew her
well,) and a heretic indeed, because she stood against one of the
manifest articles of our faith, contrary to the scriptures ; and such
are soon known from the true spirit of God and his church, for that
the same abideth within the limits of God's word, and will not go out
of it.
Bonner. I pray you, how will you join me these scriptures toge-
ther: Pater major me est; pater et ego unum sumns ;* now show
your cunning, and join these two scriptures by the word, if you can.
Philpot. Yes, that I can right well. For we must understand that
in Christ there be two natures, the divinity and humanity, and in re-
spect of his humanity, it is spoken of Christ, " The Father is greater
than I." But in respect of his deity, he said again, " The Father
and I are one."
Bonner. But what scripture have you ?
Philpot. Yes, I have sufficient scripture for the proof of that I
have said. For the first, it is written of Christ in the Psalms, " Thou
hast made him a little lower than the apgels."
Bonner. What say you then to the second scripture ? how couple
you that by the word with the other ?
Philpot. The text itself declareth, that notwithstanding Christ did
abase himself in our human nature, yet he is still one in Deity with
the Father. And this St. Paul to the Hebrews doth more at large set
forth.
Bonner. How can that be, seeing St. Paul saith, " That the letter
killeth, but it is the spirit that giveth life ?"
Philpot. St. Paul meaneth not that the word of God written, in
itself killeth, which is the word of life, and faithful testimony of the
Lord ; but that the word is unprofitable, and killeth him that is void
of the spirit of God; therefore, St. Paul said, "That the gospel to
some was a savour of life unto life, and to others a savour of death
unto death." Also an example hereof we have in the sixth of John,
of them who hearing the word of God without the spirit, were offend-
ed thereby ; wherefore Christ said, " The flesh profiteth nothing, it is
the spirit that quickeneth."
» The Father is greater than I ; I and the Father are one.
368 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Bonner. You see, my lords, that this man will have his own minri
and wilfully cast himself away. I am sorry for him-.
Philpot. The words that I have spoken are none of mine, but the
gospel, whereon I ought to stand. And if you, my lord, can bring
better authority for the faith you would draw me unto, than that
which I stand upon, I will gladly hear the same.
Rich. What countryman are you ?
Philpot. I am Sir P. Philpot's son, of Hampshire.
Rich. He is my near kinsman ; wherefore I am the more sorry for
him.
Philpot. I thank your lordship that it pleaseth you to challenge
kindred of a poor prisoner.
Rich. In faith, I would go a hundred miles on my bare feet to do
you good.
Lord Chamherlain. He may do well enough if he will.
St. John. Mr. Philpot, you are my countryman, and I would be
glad you should do well.
Rich. I dare be bold to procure for you of the queen's majesty
that you shall have ten learned men to reason with you, and twenty
or forty of the nobility to hear, so you will promise to abide their
judgment. How say you, will you promise here before my lords so
to do?
Philpot. I will be contented to be judged by them.
Rich. Yea, but will you promise to agree to their judgment ?
Philpot. There are causes why I may not so do, unless I were sure
they would judge according to the word of God. »
Rich. O, I perceive you will have no man judge but yourself, and
think yourself wiser than all the learned men in this realm.
Philpot. My lord, I seek not to be mine own judge, but am willing
to be judged by others, so that the order of judgment in matters of re-
ligion be kept that was in the primitive church, which is, first, that
God's will by his word Avas sought, and thereunto both the spirituality
and temporality were gathered together, and gave their consents and
judgment ; and such kind of judgment I will stand to.
Rich. I marvel why you do deny the express words of Christ in
the sacrament, saying, " This is my body ;" and yet you Avill not
stick to say it is not his body. Is not God omnipotent? And is not
he able as well by his omnipotency to make it his body, as he was to
make man flesh of a piece of clay ? Did not he say, " this is my
body which shall be betrayed for you ?" And was not his very body
betrayed for us ? Therefore it must needs be his body.
Bonner. My Lord Rich, you have said wonderful well and learnedly.
But you might have begun with him before also, in the sixth of John,
where Christ promised to give his body in the sacrament of the altar,
saying, " The bread which I will give is my flesh," How can you
answer to that ?
Philpot. You may be soon answered ; that saying of St. John is,
that the humanity of Christ, which he took upon him for the redemp-
tion of man, is the bread of life whsreby our souls and bodies are sus-
tained to eternal life, of which the sacramental bread is a lively re-
presentation, to all such as believe on his passion. And as Christ
saith in the same sixth of John, " I am the bread that came down from
heaven;" but yet he is not material, neither natural bread : likewise,
JOHN FPJILPOT. ab'9
the bread is his flesh, not natural or substantial, but by significatiun,
and by grace in the sacrament.
.ind now to my Lord Rich's argument. I do not deny the express
words of Christ in the sacrament, " This is my body ;" but I deny
that they are naturally and corporally to be taken : they must be
taken spiritually, according to the express declaration of Christ, saying
that the words of the sacrament which the Capernaites took carnally,
as the papists now do, ought to be taken spiritually and not carnally,
as they falsely imagine, not weighing what interpretation Christ hath
made in this behalf, neither following the institution of Christ, neither
.he use of the apostles and of the primitive church, who never taught,
neither declared any such carnal manner of presence as is now exacted
of us violently, without any ground of scripture or antiquity.
Bonner. What say you to the omnipotency of God? Is not he able
to perform that which he spake, as my Lord Rich hath very well
said ? I tell thee, that God, by his omnipotency, may make himself
to be this carpet if he will.
Philpot. As concerning the omnipotency of God, I say, that God
is able to do (as the prophet David saith) whatsoever he willeth ; but
he willeth nothing that is not agreeable to his word ; that is blasphemy
which my lord of London hath spoken, that God may become a car-
pet. For God cannot do that Avhich is contrary to his nature, and it
is contrary to the nature of God to be a carpet. A carpet is a crea-
ture ; and God is the creator ; and the creator cannot be the creature:
wherefore, unless you can declare by the word, that Christ is otherwise
present with us than spiritually and sacramentally by grace, as he hath
taught us, you pretend the omnipotency of God in vain.
Bonner. Why, wilt thou not say that Christ is really present in the
sacrament ? Or do you deny it?
Philpot. I deny not that Christ is really present in the sacrament
to the receiver thereof according to Christ's institution.
Bonner. What mean you by " really present?"
Philpot. I mean, by " really present," present indeed.
Bonner. Is God really present every where ?
Philpot. He is so.
Bonner. How prove you that ?
Philpot. The prophet Isaiah saith, " That God filleth all places ;'^
and wheresoever there be two or three gathered together in Christ's
name, there is he in the midst of them.
Bonner. What, his humanity ?
Philpot. No, my lord, I mean the Deity, according to that you
demanded.
Rich. My lord of London, I pray you let Dr. Chedsoy reason with
him, and let us see how he can answer him, for I tell thee he is a
learned man indeed, and one that I do credit before a great many of
you, whose doctrine the queen's majesty and the whole realm doth
well allow ; therefore hear him.
Dr. Chedsey accordingly began.
Chedscy. You have of Scriptures the four evangelists for the pro-
bation of Christ's real presence to be in the sacrament after the words
of consecration, with St. Paul to the Corinthians ; which all say,
" This is my body." They say not, as you would have me believe.
This is not my body. But especially the 6th of John proveth this
24
370 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
most manifestly, where Christ promised to give his body, which he
pertbrmed in his last supper, as it appeareth by these words, " The
bread which I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of
the world."
Philput. My Lord Rich, with your leave I must needs interrupt
him a little, because he speaketh open blasphemy against the death
of Christ : for if that promise, brought in by St. John, was performed
by Christ in his last supper, then he needed not to have died after he
had given the sacrament.
Windsor. There were never any that denied the words of Christ
as you do. Did he not say, " This is my body ?"
Pliilpot. My lord, I pray you be not deceived. We do not deny
the words of Christ; but we say, these words are of none effect, be-
ing spoken otherwise than Christ did institute them in his last supper
For example : Christ biddeth the church to baptize in the name of
the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. If a priest say these
words over the water, and there be no child to be baptized, these words
only pronounced do not make baptism. And baptism is only baptism
to such as be baptised, and to none other standing by.
Lord Chamberlain. My lord, let me ask him one question. "What
kind of presence in the sacrament (duly administered according tc
Christ's ordinance) do you allow?
Philpot. If any come worthily to receive, then do I confess the pre-
sence of Christ Avholly to be with all the fruits of his passion, unto
the said worthy receiver, by the Spirit of God, and that Christ is there
by joined to him, and he to Christ.
Lord Chamberlain. I am answered.
Bonner. My lords, take no heed of him, for he goeth about to de
ceive you. His similitude that he bringeth in of baptism, is nothing
like to the sacrament of the altar. For if I should say to Sir Johr
Bridges, being with me at supper, and having a fat capon. Take, eat,
this is a capon, although he eat not thereof, is it not a capon still ?
And likewise of a piece of beef, or of a cup of wine, if I say, Drink,
this is a cup of wine, is it not so, because he drinketh not thereof?
Philpot. My lord, your similitudes are too gross for so high mys
teries as we have in hand, as like must be compared to like, and spi-
ritual things with spirituakand not spiritual things with corporeal things.
The sacraments are to be considered according to the word which
Christ spake of them, of which, "Take ye, eat ye," be some of the
chief, concurrent to the making of the same, without which there can
be no sacraments. And, therefore, the sacrament of the body and
blood of Christ is called Communion.
Bonner. My lords, I am sorry I have troubled you so long with this
obstinate man, with whom we can do no good ; I will trouble you no
longer now. And with that the lords rose up, none of them saying
any evil word unto me.
His seventh Examination, November 19, before the bishops of London
and Rochester, the Chancellor of Litchfield, and Dr. Chedssy.
Bonner. Sirrah, come hither. How chance you came no sooner ?
Is it well done of you to make Mr. Chancellor and me to tarry for
you this hour? By the faitt of my body, half an hour before mass, and
half an hour even at mass, looking for your coming.
JOHN PHILPOT. 371
Philpot. My lord, it is well known to you that I am a prisoner, and
that the doors be shut upon me, and I cannot come when I please ;
but as soon as the doors of my prison were open, I came immediately.
Bonner. We sent for thee to the intent that thou shouldst have come
to mass. How say you, would you have come to mass or no, if the
doors had been sooner opened ?
Philpot. My lord, that is another manner of question.
Bo7iner. Lo, Mr. Chancellor, I told you we should have a froward
fellow of him : he will answer directly to nothing. I have had him
before the spiritual lords and the temporal, thus he fareth still ; yet
he reckoneth himself better learned than all the realm. Yea, before
the temporal lords the other day, h^ was so foolish as to challenge
the best : he would make himself learned, and is a very ignorant fool
indeed.
Philpot. I reckon I answered your lordship before the lords plain
enough.
Bonner. Why answerest thou not directly, whether thou wouldst
have gone to mass or not ifthouhadst come in time?
Philpot. Mine answer shall be thus, that if your lordship can prove
your mass, whereunto you would have me to come, to be the true ser-
vice of God, whereunto a Christian ought to come, I will afterwards
come with a good will.
Bonner. Look, I pray you ; the king and queen, and all the no-
bility of the realm, do come to mass, and yet he will not. By my faitb.,
thou art too well handled ; thou shalt be worse handled hereafter, I
warrant thee.
Philpot. Your lordship hath power to treat my body as you please
Bonner. Thou art a very ignorant fool. Mr. Chancellor, in good
faith I have handled him and his fellows with as much gentleness as
they can desire. I did let their friends come unto them to relieve
them. And wot you what? theother day they had gotten themselves
up into the top of the leads, Avith a number of apprentices gazing
abroad as though they had been at liberty ; but I cut off their resort :
and as for the apprentices, they were as good not to come to you, if I
take them.
Philpot. My lord, we have no such resort to us, as your lordship
imagineth, and there come very few unto us. And of apprentices,
I know not one, neither have we any leads to walk on over our coal-
house, that I know of: wherefore your lordship hath mistaken your
mark.
Bonner. Nay, now you think (because my lord chancellor is gone)
that we will burn no more ; yes, I warrant thee, I will dispatch you
shortly, unless you recant.
The conversation then turned again upon the supremacy of the
Romish church, on which nothing was said by its advocates, but what
had been before refuted by Mr. Philpot ; at length the chancellor thus
concluded.
Chancellor. Well, Doctor, you see we can do no good in persuad-
ing of him : let us administer the articles which my lord hath left us,
unto him. How say you, Mr. Philpot, to these articles? Mr. John
son, I pray you write his answers.
Philpot. Mr. Chancellor, you have no authority to inquire of me
my belief in such articles as you go about, for I am not of my lord of
372 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
London's diocese; and to be brief with you, I will make no farther
answer herein, than I have already to the bishop.
Chancellor. Why then let us go our ways, and let his keeper take
him Away.
Conference between the Bishop and Mr. Philpot, and other prisoners.
Two days after, an hour before it was light, the bishop sent for me
again by the keeper.
Keeper. Mr. Philpot, arise, you must come to my lord.
Philpot. I wonder what my \orr[ meaneth, that he sendeth for me
thus early ; I fear he will use some violence towards me, wherefore I
pray you make him this answer, that if he do send for me by an order
of law, I will come and answer ; otherwise, since I am not of his dio-
cese, neither is he mine ordinary, I will not (without I be violently
constrained) come unto him.
With that, one of them took me by force by the arm, and led me up
into the bishop's gallery.
Bonner. What, thou art a foolish knave indeed ; thou wilt not come
without thou be fetched.
Philpot. I am brought indeed, my lord, by violence unto you, and
your cruelty is such, that I am afraid to come before you: I would
your lordship would gently proceed against me by the law.
Bonner. I am blamed by the lords the bishops, that I have not dis-
patched thee ere this; and am commanded to take a farther order with
thee ; and in good faith, if thou Avilt not relent, I will make no farther
delay. Marry, if thou wilt yet be conformable, I will forgive thee all
that is past, and thou shalt have no hurt for any thing that is already
spoken or done.
Philpot. My lord, I have answered you already in this behalf what
I will do.
Bonner. Hadst thou not a pig brought thee the other day, with a
knife in it ? Wherefore was it but to kill thyself? or, as it is told
me, (marry I am counselled to take heed of thee,) to kill me? But 1
fear thee not ; I think I am able to tread thee under my feet, do the
best thou canst.
Philpot. My lord, I cannot deny but that there was a knife in the
pig's belly that was brought me. But who put it in, or for what pur-
pose, I know not, unless it Avere because he that sent the meat, thought
I was without a knife. But other things your lordship needeth not to
fear; for I was never without a knife, since I came to prison. And
touching your own person, you shall live long if you should live till I
go about to kill you ; and I confess, by violence, your lordship is able
to overcome me.
Bonner. I charge thee to answer to mine articles. Hold him a book.
Thou shalt swear to answer truly to all such articles as I shall demand
of thee.
Philpot. I refuse to swear in these causes before your lordship, be-
cause you are not mine ordinary.
Bonner. I am thine ordinary, and here do pronounce, by sentence
peremptory, I am thine ordinary, and that thou art of my diocese ;
(and here he ordered others to be called in to bear him witness.) And
I make thee (taking one of his servants by the arm) to be my nnt-^vy
And now hearken to my nrtirles, to which (when he had read th'-ni^
JOHN PHILPOT. 373
he admonished me to make answer, and said to tlie keeper, Fetch me
his fellows, and I shall make them to be witnesses against him.
In the mean while came in one of the shcrills of London, whom
the bishop placed by him, saying, Mr, Sheriff, I would you shoulil
understand how I do proceed against this man. Mr. Sheriff, you
shall hear what articles this man doth maintain : and so read a set of
feigned articles ; that I denied baptism to be necessary to them that
were born of Christian parents, that I denied fasting and prayer, and
all other good deeds ; that I maintained only bare faith to be sufiicient
to salvation, whatsoever a man did besides, and I maintained God to
be the author of all sin and wickedness.
Philpot. Ah, my lord, have you nothing of truth to charge me
withal, but you must be fain to imagine these blasphemous lies against
me ? You might as well have said, I had killed your father. The
scriptures say, " That God will destroy all men that speak lies.''
And is not your lordship ashamed to say before this gentleman, (who
is unknown to me,) that I maintain what you have rehearsed ? which
if I did, I were well worthy to be counted a heretic, and to be burnt.
Bonner. Wilt thou answer to them ?
Philpot. I will first know you to be my ordinary, and that you may
lawfully charge me with such things.
Bonner. Well, then I will make thy fellows to be witnesses herein
against thee: where are they? are they come?
Keeper. They are here, my lord.
Bonner. Come hither, sirs: (hold them a book,) you shall swear by
the contents of that book, that you shall say the truth of all such arti-
cles as shall be demanded of you concerning thii? man here present,
and take you heed of him, that he doth not deceive you, as I am afraid
he doth, and strengtheneth you in your errors.
Prisoners. My lord, we will not swear, except we know whereto;
we can accuse him of no evil ; we have been but a while acquainted
with him.
Philpot, I wonder your lordship, knowing the law, will go about,
contrary to the same, for your lordship doth take them to be heretics,
and by the law a heretic cannot be a witness.
Bonner. Yes, one heretic against another may bf well enough.
And, Mr. Sheriff, I will make one of them to be a witness against ano-
ther.
Prisoners. No, my lord.
Bonner. No ! will you not ? 1 will make you swear, whether you
will or no. I think they be Anabaptists, Mr. Sheriff, they think it not
lawful to swear before a judge.
Philpot. W^e think it lawful to swear for a man judicially called, as
we are not now, but in a blind corner.
Bonner. Why, then, seeing you will not swear against your fellow,
you shall swear for yourselves, and I do here in the ])resence of Mr.
Sheriff, object the same articles unto you, as I have done unto him, and
require you, under pain of excommunication, to answer particularly
unto every one of them when you shall be examined, as you shall be
soon, by my register and some of my chaplains.
Prisoners. My lord, w6 will not accuse ourselves. If any man
can lav any thing against us, we are here ready to answer thereto
374 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
otherwise we pray your lordship not to burden us; for some of us
are here before you, we know no just cause why.
Bonner. Mr. Sheriff, 1 will trouble you no longer with these fro-
ward men. And. so he rose up, and was going away, talking with
Mr. Sheriff.
Philpot. Mr. Sheriff, I pray you record how my lord proceedeth
against us in corners, without all order of law, having no just cause to
lay against us And after this, we were all commanded to be put in
the stocks, where I sat from morning until night ; and the keeper at
night upon favour let me out.
The Sunday after, the bishop came into the coal-house at night,
with the keeper, and viewed the house, saying, that he was never
there before ; whereby a man may guess how he kept God's com-
mandment in visiting the prisoners. Between eight and nine, he sent
for me, saying :
Bonner. Sir, I have great displeasure of the queen and council for
keeping you so long, and letting you have so much liberty ; and be-
sides that, you strengthen the other prisoners in their errors, as I have
laid wait for your doings, and am certified of you well enough ; I will
sequester you therefore from them, and you shall hurt them no more
as you have done, and I will out of hand dispatch you as I am com-
manded, unless you will be a conformable man.
Philpot. My lord, you have my body in your custody, you may
transport it whither you please ; I am content. And I wish you
would make as quick expedition in my judgment, as you say ; I long
for it : and as for conformity, I am ready to yield to all truth, if any
c?n bring better than I.
Bonner. Why, will you believe no man but yourself, whatsoever
they say ?
Philpot. My belief must not hang upon men's sayings, without
sure authority of God's word, which if they can show me, I will be
pliant to the same ; otherwise I cannot go from my certain faith to
that which is uncertain.
Bonner. Have you then the truth only ?
Philpot. My lord, I will speak my mind freely unto you and upon
no malice that I bear to you, before God. You have not the truth,
neither are you of the church of God ; but you persecute both the
truth and the true church of God, for which cause you cannot prosper
long. You see God doth not prosper your doings according to your
expectations ; he hath of late showed his just judgment against one oi
your greatest doers, who, by reports, died miserably.* I envy not
the authority ;^ou are in. You that have learning, should know best
how to rule. And seeing God hath restored you to your dignity and
living again, use the same to God's glory, and to the setting forth of
his true religion : otherwise it will not continue, do what you can.
With this saying he paused, and at length said :
Bonner. Tha* good man was punished for such as thou art.
Where is the keeper? Come, let him have him to the place that is
provided for him Go your way before.
He then followed me, calling the keeper aside, commanding him to
* The bishop of Winchester who died of a very painful disorder, on the 12th of
November, 1555.
JOHN PHILPOT. 375
keep all men from me, and narrowly to search me, commanding two
of his men to accompany the keeper to see me placed.
1 afterwards passed through St. Paul's up to Lollards' Tower and
after that turned along the west side of St. Paul's through the ^all,
and passing through six or seven doors, came to my lodging through
many straits ; where I called to remembrance, that straight is the
way to heaven. And it is in a tower, right on the other side of Lol-
lards' Tower, as high almost as the battlements of St. Paul's, eight
feet in breadth, and thirteen in length, and almost over the prison
where I was before, having a window opening towards the east, by
which I could look over the tops of a great many houses, but saw no
man passing into them.
And as I came to my place, the keeper took off my gown, searched
me very narrowly, and took away a pen-case, ink-horn, girdle, and
knife, but (as God would have it,) I had an inkling a little before I
was called, of my removal, and thereupon made an errand to the
stool, where (full sore against my will,) I cast away many a friendly
letter ; but that which I had written of my last examination before,
I thrust into my hose, thinking the next day to have made an end
thereof, and with walking it was fallen down to my leg, which he
by feeling soon found out, and asked what that was. I said, they
were certain letters ; and with that he was very busy to have them
out. Let me alone, said I, I will take them out : with that I put my
hand, having two other letters therein, and brought up the same wri-
ting into my breeches, and there left it, giving him the other two that
were not of any importance ; which to make a show that they had
been weighty, I began to tear as well as I could, till they snatched
them from me; and so deluded him from his purpose.
Then he went away, and as he was going, one of them that came
with him, said that I did not deliver the writing I had in my hose,
but two other letters I had in my hand before. Did he not ? says he,
I will go and search him better ; which I hearing, conveyed my ex-
amination I had written, into another place near my bed, and took
all my letters I had in my purse, and was tearing of them when he
came again, and as he came I threw the same out of the window,
saying that I heard what he said. By this, I prevented his search-
ing any farther.
This zealous and unshaken servant of God still continued to be
held in suspense, and underwent seven more examinations, being
combated with all the learning and sophistry of the various heads of
the corrupted church ; but armed with truth, he bravely stood the
test, and proved himself to he founded 07i a rock.
To relate the whole of the examinations, would only be a tedious
repetition of the insolence of Bonner, of the pride and arrogance of
the other bishops, and points of dispute, already discussed. "We,
therefore, proceed to his fourteenth and final examination.
Last Examination of Mr. Philpot.
Bishop Bonner having wearied himself with repeated interviews
and conferences with our Christian champion ; by turns insulting,
threatening, and exhorting him, with equally hopeless effect, at length
resolved to terminate the contest. Accordingly, on the 13th of De-
376
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
ccmbcr, he ordered him to be brought before him and otlier?, in the
consistory of St. Paul's, and thus addressed liim :
" Mr. Philpot, amongst other things that were laid and objected
against you, these three you verc principally charged with.
" The first is, that you being fallen from the unity of Christ's ca-
tholic church, do refuse to be reconciled thereto.
" The second is, that you have blasphemously spoken against the
sacrifice of the mass, calling it idolatry.
" And the third is, that you have spoken against the sacrament of
the altar, denying the real presence of Christ's body and blood to be
in the same.
" And according to the will and pleasure of the synod legislative,
you have been often by me invited, and required to go from your said
errors and heresies, and to return to the unity of the catholic church,
which, if you will now willingly do, you shall be mercifVdly and gladly
received, charitably used, and have all the favour I can show you.
And now, to tell you true, it is assigned and appointed me to give
sentence against you, if you stand herein, and will not return.
Wherefore if you so refuse, 1 do ask of you whether you have any
cause that you can show why I now should not give sentence against
you."
Philpot. Under protestation not to go from my appeal that I have
made, and also not to consent to you as my competent judge, I say,
respecting your first objection concerning the catholic church, I nei-
ther was nor am out of the same. And as to the sacrifice of the mass,
and the sacrament of the altar, I never spoke against the same. And
as concerning the pleasure of the synod, I say, that these twenty years
I have been brought up in the faith of the true catholic church, which
is contrary to your church, whereunto you would have me to come ;
and in that time I have been many times sworn, both in the reign o^
King Henry the Eighth, and of Edward, his son, against the usurper
pov/cr of the bishop of Rome, which oath, I think, I am bound in my
conscience to keep, because I must perform unto the Lord mine oath
But if you, or any of the synod, can, by God's word, persuade me
thet my oath was unlawful, and that I am bound by God's law to come
to your church, faith, and religion, I will gladly yield up unto you,
otherwise not.
Bonner, then, not able, with all his learned doctors, to accomplish
this offered condition, had recourse, as usual, to his promises and
threats ; to which Mr. Philpot answered :
" You, and all other of your sort, are hypocrites, and I wish allthf
world knew your hypocrisy, your tyranny, ignorance, and idolatry.'
Upon these words the bishop, for that time, dismissed him, com-
manding that on Monday, the 10th of the same month, he should
ao-ainbe brought thither, there to have the definitive sentence of con-
iemnalion pronounced against liim, if he then remained resolved.
Condemnation of Philpot.
The day being come, Mr. Philpot was accordingly presented be-
fore the bishops of London, Bath, Worcester, and Litchfield ; when
the former thus began :
JOHN PHILPOT. 377
Bonner. My lords, Stokeslcy, my predecessor, when lie went to
give sentence against a heretic, used to make this prayer :
Deus qui crrantihus, tit in viam possint rcdire, justiticz vcritatisqve
tucB. luvicn ostendis, da cunctis qui Christiana professione censentw
et ilia respuere qvcB hnic, inimica sint nomini, etea qua; sint apta sec-
iari per Christum Dominnvinostruvi. Amen. Which I will follow.
And so he read it with a loud voice in Latin.
Philpot. I wish you would speak in English, that all men might
understand you ; for St. Paul willeth, that all things spoken in the
congregation to edify, should be spoken in a tongue that all men
might understand.
Whereupon the bishop read it in English.
" O God, who showest the light of thy truth and righteousness to
those that stray, that they may return into thy wa'y, give to all who
profess themselves Christians, to refuse those things which are foes
to thy name, and to follow those things which are fit, by Christ our
Loi'd. Amen." And when he came to these words, " To refuse
those things which are foes to thy name," Mr. Philpot said,
" Then they all must turn away from you ; for vou are enemies to
that name."
Bonner. Whom do you mean ?
Philpot. You, and all of your generation and sect. And I am sorry
to see you sit in the place that you now sit in, pretending to execute
justice, and to do nothing less but deceive all in this realm.
And then turning himself unto the people, he farther said, " O all
you gentlemen, beware of these men, and all their doings, which are
contrary to the primitive church. And I would know of vou, i™>v
lord, by what authority you proceed against me."
Bonner. Because I am bishop of London.
Philpot. Well, then, you are not my bishop, nor have 1 oftended in
your diocese ; and moreover, I have appealed from you, and, there-
fore, by your own law, you ought not to proceed against me, especially
being brought hither from another place by violence.
Bonner. Why, who sent you hither to me ?
Philpot. Dr. Story, and Dr. Cook, with other commissioners ol
the king and queen ; and, my lord, is it not enough for you to Avorrj-
your own sheep, but you must also meddle with other men's ?
Then the bishop delivered two books to Mr. Philpot, one of the
civil, and the other of the canon law, out of which he would have
proved that he had authority to proceed against him as he did. Mr.
Philpot then perusing them, and seeing the small and slender proof
that was alleged, said to the bishop :
" I perceive your law and divinity is all one ; for you have know-
ledge in neither of them ; and I wish you knew your own ignorance
but you dance in a net, and think that no man doth see you." Here
upon they had much talk. At last Bonner said unto him :
" Philpot, as concerning your objections against my jurisdiction,
you shall understand that both the civil and canon laws make against
you; and as for your appeal, it is not allowed for this case; for it is
written in the law, there is no appeal from a judge executing the sen-
tence of the law."
Philpot. My lord, it appeareth, by your interpretation of the la*r
378 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
that you have no knowledge therein, and that you do not understand
the law; for if you did, you would not bring in that next.
Hereupon the bishop recited a law of the Romans, That it was not
lawful for a Jew to keep a Christian in captivity, and to use him as a
slave, laying then to the said Philpot's charge that he did not under-
stand the law, but did like a Jew. Whereunto Philpot answered :
•' No, I am no Jew, but you, my lord, are a Jew. For you profess
Christ, and maintain Antichrist ; you profess the gosj)el, and main-
tain superstition, and you are able to charge me with nothing."
Bonner and another bishop. With what can you charge us ?
Philpot. You are enemies to all truth, and all your doings are full
of idolatry, saving the article of the trinity.
While they were thus debating, there came thither Sir William
Garret, knight, then mayor of London, Sir Martin Bowes, knight, and
Thomas Leigh, then sheriff of the same city, and sat down with the
bishops in the consistory.
They were no sooner seated than Bonner again addressed Mr.
Philpot, with the prayer, and again repeated the charge against him ;
after which he addressed him in a formal exhortation, which he had
no sooner ended than Mr. Philpot turned himself to the lord mayor,
and said :
Philpot. I am glad, my lord, now to stand before that authority,
that hath defended the gospel and the truth of God's word : but I am
sorry to see that that authority, which representeth the king and
queen's persons, should now be changed, and be at the command of
Antichrist; and I am glad that God hath given me power to stand
here this day, to declare and defend my faith, which is founded on
Christ.
Therefore, (turning to the bishops,) as touching your first objection,
I say, that I am of the catholic church ; whereof I never was out, and
that your church is the church of Rome, and so the Babylonical, and
not the Catholic church ; of that church I am not.
As touching your second objection, which is, that I should speak
against the sacrifice of the mass ; I do say, that I have not spoken
against the true sacrifice, but I have spoken against your private
masses that you use in corners, which is blasphemy to the true sacri-
fice ; for your daily sacrifice is reiterated blasphemy against Christ's
death, and it is a lie of your own invention ; and that abominable
sacrifice, which you set upon the altar, and use in your private masses,
instead of the living sacrifice, is idolatry.
Thirdly, where you lay to my charge, that I deny the body and
blood of Christ to be in the sacrament of the altar, I cannot tell what
altar you mean, whether it be the altar of the cross, or the altar of
stone : and if you call it the sacrament of the altar in respect of the
altar of stone, then I defy your Christ, for it is a false one.
And as touching your transubstantiation, I utterly deny it, for it was
first brought up by a pope. Now as concerning your ofl"er made
from the synod, which is gathered together in Antichrist's name ;
prove to me that you be of the catholic church, (which you never
can,) and I will follow you, and do as you would have me. But you
ire idolaters, and traitors ; for in your pulpits ye rail against good
things, as King Henry, and King Edward his son, who have stood
igainst the usurped power of the pope of Rome : against whora I
JOHN PlIILPOT. 379
have also taken an oath, which, if you can show me by God's law
that I have taken unjustly, I will then yield unto you : but I pray God
turn the king and queen's heart from your synagogue and church.
Coventry. In our true catholic church are the apostles, evangelists,
and martyrs ; but before Martin Luther there was no apostle, evan-
gelist, or martyr of your church.
Philpot. "Will you know the cause why? Christ did prophesy
that in the latter days there should come false prophets and hypocrites,
as you are.
Coventry. Your church of Geneva, which you call the catholic
church, is that which Christ prophesied of.
Philpot. I allow the church of Geneva, and the doctrine of the
same, for it is catholic and apostolic, and doth follow the doctrine
which the apostles preached.
Bonner. My lord, this man had a roasted pig brought unto him,
and this knife was put secretly between the skin and flesh thereof.
And also this powder, under pretence that it was good and comforta-
ble for him to eat and drink ; which powder was only to make ink to
write withal. For when his keeper perceived it, he took it and
brought it unto me ; which when I saw I thought it had been gun-
powder, and thereupon put fire to it, but it would not burn. Then I
took it for poison, and so gave it to a dog, but it was not so. I then
took a little water, and made as good ink as ever I did write withal.
Therefore, my lord, you may understand what a naughty fellow this is.
Philpot. Ah, my lord, have you nothing else to charge me withal,
but these trifles, seeing I stand upon life and death ? Doth the knife
in the pig prove tlie church of Rome to be the catholic church ?
Then the bishop brought forth a certain instrument, containing ar-
ticles and questions, agreed upon both in Oxford and Cambridge.
Also, he exhibited two books in print ; the one was the catechism
composed in King Edward's days, in the year 1552, the other con-
cei-ning the report of the disputation in the convocation-house, men-
tion whereof is above expressed.
Moreover, he brought forth two letters, and laid them to Mr. Phil-
pot's charge ; the one was addressed to him by a friend, complaining
of the bishop's ill usage of a young man named Bartlet Green ; the
other was a consolatory letter from Lady Vane. Besides these, was
introduced a memorial drawn up by Mr. Philpot, to the queen and
parliament, stating the irregularity of his being brought to Bishop
Bonner, he not being of his diocese ; also complaining of the severity
of his treatment.
These books, letters, supplications, &c. having been read, the
bishop demanded of him, if the book entitled, " The true report of
the disputation," &,c. were of his penning, or not? To this Mr
Philpot answered in the afiirmative.
The bishops growing weary, and not being able by any sufficient
ground, either of God's word, or of the true ancient catholic fathers,
to convince and overcome him, began with flattering speech to per-
suade him : promising, that if he would revoke his opinions, and re-
turn to their Romish and Babylonical church, he would not only be
pardoned that which was past, but also they would, with all favour
and cheerfulness of heart, receive him again as a true member thereof.
But when Bonner found that it would take no effect, he demanded
380
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
of Ml . Philpot, whether he had any just cause to allege why he should
not condemn him as a heretic. " Well," quotxi Mr. Philpot, " your
Idolatrous sacrament, which you have found out, you would fain de-
fend, but you cannot, nor ever shall."
In the end, the bishop, seeing his steadfastness in the truth, openly
pronounced the sentence of condemnation against him. In the read-
ing whereof, when he came to these words, " and you, an obstinate,
pernicious, and impenitent heretic," ifcc. Mr- Philpot said, " I thank
God that I am a heretic out of your cursed church ; I am no heretic
before God. But God bless you, and give you grace to repent your
wicked doings."
When Bonner was about the midst of the sentence, the bishop of
Bath pulled him by the sleeve, and said, "My lord, my lord, know of
him first whether he will recant or not." Bonner said, "O let him
alone :" and so read forth the sentence.
When he had concluded, he delivered him to the sheriffs ; and so
two officers brought him through the bishop's house into Paternoster-
row, where his servant met him, and when he saw him, he said, "Ah,
dear master !"
"Content thyself," said Mr. Philpot, "I shall do well enough; for
thou shalt see me again."
The officers then took him to Newgate ; where they delivered him
to the keeper. Tlien his man strove to go in after his master, and
one of the officers said unto him, " Hence, fellow ! what wouldst
thou have ?" And he said, " I would speak with my master." Mr.
Philpot then turned about, and said to him, " To-morrow thou shalt
speak with me."
When the under keeper understood it to be his servant, he gave
him leave to go in with him. And Mr. Philpot and his man .were
turned into a little chamber on the right hand, and there remained a
short time, when Alexander, the chief keeper, came unto him : who
said, "Ah, hast thou not done well to bring thyself hither ?" — " Well,"
said Mr. Philpot, "I must be content, for it is God's appointment;
and I shall desire you to let me have your gentle favour, for you and
I have been of old acquaintance."
" If you will recant," said the keeper, "I will show you any plea-
sure I can." — " Nay," said Mr. Philpot, I will never recant that which
I have spoken, whilst I have my life, for it is most certain truth, and
in witness hereof, I will seal it with my blood." Then Alexander
said, "This is the saying of the whole pack of you heretics." Where-
upon he commanded him to be set upon the block, and as many irons
to be put upon his legs as he could bear.
Then the clerk told Alexander in his ear, that Mr. Philpot had given
his man money. Alexander said to him, "What monev hath thy mas-
ter given thee ?" He answered, " My master hath given me none." —
" No ?" said Alexander, " hath he given thee none ! That I will know,
for I will search thee."
" Do with me as you i'ike, and search me all that you can." quoth
his servant ; " he hath given me a token or two to send to his friends,
to his brothers and sisters." "Ah," said Alexander unto Mr. Philpot,
" thou art a maintainer of heretics ; thy man should have gone to some
of thy affinity, but he shall be known well enough." — "Nay," said
Mr. Philpot, " I do send it to my friends ; there he is, let him make
JOHN PHILPOT. 381
answer to it. But, good Mr. Alexander, be so much my friend, that
these irons may be tcken off." — " Well," said Alexander, " give me
my fees, and I will take them off; if not, tlion shalt wear them still."
Then said Mr. Philpot, "Sir, what is your fee?" He said, "Four
pounds." — " Ah," said Mr. Philpot, " I have not so much ; I am but
a poor man, and I have been long in prison." — " What wilt thou give
me then?" said Alexander. " Sir," said he, " I will give thee twenty
shillings, and that I will send my man for, or else I will give thee
my gown in pledge; for the time is not long, I am sure, that I shall
be with you ; for the bishop said unto me that I should soon be des-
patched."
" "What is that to me ?" said Alexander. And with that he departed
from him, and commanded him to be put in a dungeon; but before he
could be taken from the block, the clerk would have a groat.
Then one Witterence, steward of the house, took him on his back,
and carried him down, his man knew not whither. Wherefore Mr.
Philpot said to his servant, " Go to the sheriff, and show him how I
am used, and desire him to be good to me;" and so his servant went,
and took another person with him.
When they came to the sheriff, and show^ed him how Mr. Philpot
was treated in Newgate, he took his ring from off his finger, and de-
livered it to the person that came with Mr. Philpot's man, and bade
him go unto Alexander the keeper, and command him to take off his
irons, and to handle him more gently, and to give his man again that
which he had taken from him.
And when they returned to Alexander, and delivered their message
from the sheriff, he took the ring and said, " Ah, I perceive that Mr.
Sheriff is a bearer with him, and all such heretics as he is, therefore
to-morrow I will shoAV it to his betters :" yet at ten o'clock he went to
Mr. Philpot where he lay, and took off his irons, and gave him such
things as he had before taken from his servant.
Upon Tuesday, the 17th of December, while he was at supper, there
came a messenger from the sheriffs, and bade Mr. Philpot make ready,
for the next day he should suffer, and be burned at a stake. Mr. Phil-
not answered, "I am ready; God grant me strength and a joyful re-
surrection." And so he went into his chamber, and poured out his
spirit unto the Lord God, giving him most hearty thanks, that he had
made him worthy to suffer for his truth.
Execution of Mr. Philpot.
In the morning the sheriffs came according to order, about eight
o'clock, and calling for him, he most joyfully came down to them. And
there his man met him, and said, " Ah, dear master, farewell." His
master answered, " Serve God, and he will help thee." And so he
went with the sheriffs to the place of execution ; and when he was
entering into Smithfield, the w^ay was foul, and two officers took him
up to bear him to the stake. Then he said merrily, "What, Avill you
make me a pope ? I am content to go to my journey's end on foot.''
But on entering into Smithfield, he kneeled down, and said, " I will
pay my vows in thee, O Smithfield."
On arriving at the place of suffering, he kissed the stake, and said,
*' Shall I disdain to suffer at this stake, seeing my Redeemer did not
refuse to suffer the most vile death upon the cross forme?" And
382 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
then with an obedient heart he repeated the 106th, 107th, and 108th
Psahns : and when he had made an end of all hi? prayers, he said to
the officers, " What have you done for me ?" And when they severally
declared what they had done, he gave money to them.
They then bound him to the stake, and lighted the fire, when
the blessed martyr soon resigned his soul into the hands of him who
gave it.
Thus have we presented the reader with the life and actions of this
learned and worthy soldier of the Lord, with his various examinations,
that were preserved from the sight and hand of his enemies: who, by
all manner of means, sought not only to stop him from all writing, but
also to spoil and deprive him of that which he had written. For which
cause he was many times searched in the prison by his keeper : but
yet so happily were these particulars preserved, that they always es-
caped his prying eyes.
SECTION IX.
LIFE, SUFFERINGS, AND MARTYRDOM OF THOMAS CRANMER, ARCHBISHOP
OF CANTERBURY, WHO WAS BURNT AT OXFORD, MARCH 21, 1556.
This eminent prelate was born at Aslacton, in Nottinghamshire,
on the 2d of July, 1489. His family was ancient, and came in with
William the Conqueror. He was early deprived of his father, and
after a common school education, was sent by his mother to
Cambridge, at the age of fourteen, according to the custom of those
times.
Having completed his studies at the university, he took the usual
degrees, and was so well beloved that he was chosen fellow of
Jesus college, and became celebrated for his great learning and
abilities.
In 1521 he married, by which he forfeited his fellowship ; but his
wife dying in child-bed within a year after his marriage, he was re-
elected. This favour he gratefully acknowledged, and chose to de-
cline an offer of a much more valuable fellowship in Cardinal Wol-
sey's new seminary at Oxford, rather than relinquish friends who had
treated him with the most distinguished respect.
In 1523 he commenced doctor of divinity ; and being in great es-
teem for theological learning, he was chosen divinity lecturer in
his own college, and appointed, by the university, one of the exami-
ners in that science. In this office he principally inculcated the study
of the holy scriptures, then greatly neglected, as being indispensably
necessary for the professors of that divine knowledge.
The plague happening to break out at Cambridge, Mr. Cranmer,
with some of his pupils, removed to Waltham-abbey, where meeting
with Gardiner and Fox. the one the secretary, the other the almoner
of King Henry VIII., that monarch's intended divorce of Catherine,
his queen, the common subject of discourse in those days, was men
tioned : when Cranmer advising an application to the universities
both in England and in foreign countries for their opinion in the case,
and giving these gentlemen much satisfaction, they introduced him to
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 383
ihe king, who was so ])lease(l with him, that he ordered him to write
his thoughts on the subject, made him his chaplain, and admitted him
into that favour and esteem which he never afterwards forfeited.
In 1530 he was sent by ihe king, with a solemn embassy, to dispute
on the subject of the divorce, at Paris, Rome, and other foreign
parts. At Rome he delivered his book which he had written in de-
fence of the divorce, to the pope, and offered to justify it in a public
disputation : but after various promises and appointments none ap-
peared to oppose him ; while in private conferences he forced them
to confess that the marriage was contrary to the law of God. The
pope constituted him penitentiary-general of England, and dismissed
him. In Germany he gave full satisfaction to many learned men,
who were before of a contrary opinion ; and prevailed on the famous
Osander, (whose niece he married while there,) to declare the king's
marriage unlawful.
During the time he was abroad, the great archbishop Warham
died : Henry, convinced of Cranmer's merit, determined that he should
succeed him, and commanded him to return for that purpose. He
suspected the cause, and delayed : he was desirous, by all means, to
decline this high station ; for he had a true and primitive sense of the
office. But a spirit so different from that of the churchmen of his
times, stimulated the king's resolution ; and the more reluctance
Cranmer showed, the greater resolution Henry exerted. He was con-
secrated on March 30, 1553, to the office ; and though he received
the usual bulls from the pope, he protested, at his consecration,
against the oath of allegiance, <fcc. to him. For he had conversed
freely with the reformed in Germany, had read Luther's books, and
was zealously attached to the glorious cause of reformation.
The first ser^dce he did the king in his archiepiscopal character,
was, pronouncing the sentence of his divorce from Queen Catherine,
and the next was joining his hand with Anne Eoleyn, the consequence
of which marriage was the birth of Elizabeth, to whom he stood god-
father.
As the queen was greatly interested in the reformation, the friends
to that good work began to conceive high hopes ; and, indeed, it
went on with desira'jle success. But the fickle disposition of the king,
and the fatal end of the unhappy Anne, for a while, alarmed their
fears ; though, by God's providence, without any ill effects. The
pope's supremacy was universally exploded ; monasteries, &.C. de-
stroyed, upon the fullest detection of the most abominable vices and
wickedness existing in them ; that valuable book of the " Erudition ol
a Christian Man," was set forth by the archbishop, with public autho-
rity ; and the sacred scriptures, at length, to the infinite joy of Cran-
mer, and of Lord Cromwell, his constant friend and associate, were
not only translated, but introduced into every parish. The transla-
tion was received with inexpressible joy ; every one, that was able,
purchased it, and the poor flocked greedily to hear it read; some per-
sons in years learned to read, on purpose that they might peruse it ;
and even little children crowded with eagerness to hear it.
Cranmer, that he might proceed with true judgment, made a collec-
tion of opinions from the Avorks of the ancient fathers and later doc-
tors : of which work Dr. Burnet saw two volumes in folio ; and it ap
pears, by a letter of Lord Burleigh, that there were tnen six volumes
384 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
of Craiimer's collections in his hands. A work of incredible laboiu
and of vast utility.
A short time after this, he gave shining proof of his sincere and
disinterested constancy, by liis noble opposition to what are commonly
called King Henry's six bloody articles. However, he weathered
the storm ; and published, with an incomparable preface, ivritten b}'-
himself, the larger Bible ; six of which, even Bonner, then newly
consecrated bishop of London, caused to be fixed, for the perusal oi
the people, in his cathedral of St. Paul's.
The enemies of the reformation, however, were restless ; and
Henry, alas ! was no protestant in his heart. Cromwell fell a sacri-
fice to them, and they aimed their malignant shafts at Cranmer. Gar-
diner in particular was indefatigable ; he caused him to be accused in
parliament, and several lords of the privy council moved the king to
commit the archbishop to the tower. The king perceived their ma-
lice ; and one evening, on pretence of diverting himself on the water,
ordered his barge to be rowed to Lambeth. The archbishop, being
informed of it, came down to pay ids respects, and was ordered by
the king to come into the barge, and sit close by him. Henry made
him acquainted with the accusation of heresy, faction, &;c. which
were laid against him, and spoke of his opposition to the six articles;
the archbishop modestly replied, that he could not but acknowledge
himself to be of the same opinion with respect to them, but was not
conscious of having offended against them. The king tlien putting
on an air of pleasantry, asked him, if his bedchamber could stand the
test of these articles ? The archbishop confessed that he was mrr-
ried in Germany before his promotion ; but he assured the king, thai
on the passing of that act he had parted with his wife, and sent her
abroad to her friends. His majesty was so charmed Avith liis open-
ness and integrity, that he discovered the whole plot that was laitJ
against him, and gave him a ring of great value to produce upon any
future emergency.
A few days after this, Cranmer's enemies summoned him to appear
before the council. He accordingly attended, when they suffered
him to wait in the lobby amongst the servants, treated him on his
admission with haughty contempt, and would have sent him to the
tower. But he produced the ring, which changed their tone, and,
while his enemies received a severe reprimand from Henry, Cranmei
himself gained the highest degree of security and favour.
On this occasion, he showed that lenity and mildness for which he
was always so much distinguished ; he never persecuted any of his
enemies ; but, on the contrary, freely forgave even the inveterate
Gardiner, on his writing a supplicatory letter to him. The same
lenity he showed towards Dr. Thornton, the suffragan of Dover, and
Dr. Barber, v/ho, though entertained in his family, intrusted with his
secrets, and indebted to him for many favours, had ungratefully con-
spired with Gardiner to take away his life.
When Cranmer first discovered their treachery, he took them aside
into his study, and telling them that lie had been basely and falsely
accused by some in whom hs had always reposed the greatest confi-
dence, desired them to advise him how he should behave himsel'
towards them ? They, not suspecting themselves to be concerned in
the question, replied, that " such vile, abandoned villians, ought to
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 385
be prosecuted with the greatest rigour ; nay, deserved to die without
mercy." At this, the archbishop, lifting up his hands to heaven, cried
out, " Merciful God ! whom may man trust." And then taking out
of his bosom the letters, by which he had discovered their treachery,
asked them if they knew those papers ? When they saw their own
letters produced against them, they were in the utmost confusion ; and
falling down upon their knees, humbly sued for forgiveness. The
archtishop told them, " that he forgave them, and would pray for
them ; but that they must not expect him ever to trust them for the
future."
As we are upon the subject of the archbishop's readiness to forgive
and forget injuries, it may not be improper here to relate a pleasant
mstance of it, Avhich happened some time before the above circum-
stances.
The archbishop's first wife, whom he married at Cambridge, was
kinswoman to the hostess at the Dolphin inn, and boarded there ; and
he often resorting thither on that account, the popish party had raised
a story that he had been ostler to that inn, and never had the benefit
of a learned education. This idle story a Yorkshire priest had, Avith
great confidence, asserted, in an alehouse which he used to frequent;
railing at the archbishop, and saying, that he had no more learning
than a goose. Some people of the parish informed Lord Cromwell
of ihis, and the priest was committed to the Fleet prison. When he-
had been there nine or ten weeks, he sent a relation of his to the arch-
bishop, to beg his pardon, and to sue for a discharge. The archbishop
instantly sent for him, and, after a gentle reproof, asked the priest
whether he knew him ? To which he answering, " No," the arch-w
bishop expostulated with him, why he should then make so free with
his character? The priest excused himself, by saying he was dis-
guised with liquor ; but this Cranmer told him was a double fault.
He then said to the priest, if he was inclined to try what a scholar he
was, he should have liberty to oppose him in whatever science he
pleased. The priest humbly asked his pardon, and confessed him
self to be very ignorant, and to understand nothing but his mothei
tongue. " No doubt, then," said Cranmer, " you are well versed in
the English Bible, and can answer any questions out of that; prav
tell me, who was David's father V The priest stood still for some
time to consider; but, at last, told the archbishop he could not recol-
lect his name. " Tell me, then," said Cranmer, " who was Solomon's
father?" The poor priest replied, that he had no skill in genealogies,
■and could not tell. The archbishop then, advising him to frequent
ale-houses less, and his study more, and admonishing him not to ac-
cuse others for want of learning till he was master of some himself,
discharged him out of custody, and sent him home to his cure.
These may serve as instances of Cranmer's clement temper. In-
deed, he was much blamed by many for his too great lenity ; which,
it was thought, encouraged the popish faction to make fresh attempts
against him ; but he was happy in giving a shining example of that
great Christian virtue which he diligently taught.
The king, who was a good discerner of men, remarking the impla-
cable hatred of Cranmer's enemies towards him, changed his coat of
arms from three cranes to three pelicans, feeding their young with
heir own blood ; and told the archbishop, " that these birds should
25
3gg BOOK OF MARTYRS.
signity to him, that he ought to be ready, like the pelican, to shed his
blood for his young ones, brought up in the faith of Christ ; for," said
the king, " you are like to be tried, if you Avill stand to your tackling,
at length." The event proved the king to be no bad prophet.
Jn 1547, Henry died, and left his crown to his only son, Edward,
who was godson to Cranmer, and had imbibed all the spirit of a re-
former. This excellent young prince, influenced no less by his own
inclinations than by the advice of Cranmer, and the other friends of
reformation, was diligent in every endeavour to promote it. Homi-
lies, and a catechism, were composed by the archbishop ; Erasmus'
notes on the New Testament were translated, and fixed in churches ;
the sacrament was administered in both kinds ; and the liturgy was
read in the vulgar tongue. Ridley, the archbishop's great friend,
and one of the brightest lights of the English reformation, was equally
zealous in the good cause : and in concert with him, the archbishop
drew up the forty-two articlesof religion, which were i-evised by other
bishops and divines ; as, through him, he had perfectly conquered all
his scruples respecting the doctrines of the corporeal pres.ence, and
published a much esteemed treatise, entitled, "A Defence of the True
and Catholic Doctrines of the Sacrament of the Body and Blood of
our Lord Jesus Christ."
But this happy scene of prosperity was not to continue: God was
pleased to deprive the nation of King Edward, in 1553, designing, in
his wise providence, to perfect the new-born church of his son Jesus
Christ in England, by the blood of martyrs, as at the beginning he per-
fected the church in general.
Anxious for the success of the reformation, and wrought upon by
the artifices of the duke of Northumberland, Edward had been per-
suaded to exclude his sisters, and to bequeath the crown to that
duke's amiable and every Avay deserving daughter-in-law the Lady
Jane Gray. The archbishop did his utmost to oppose this alteration
in the succession ; but the king was over-ruled ; the will was made,
and subscribed by the council and the judges. The archbishop was
sent for, last of all, and required to subscribe ; but he answered that
he could not do so without perjury; having sworn to the entail of the
crown on the two princesses Mary and Elizabeth. To this the king
replied, " that the judges, who, being best skilled in the constitution,
ought to be regarded in this point, had assured him, that notwithstand-
ing that entail, he might lawfully bequeath the crown to Lady Jane."
Tlie archbishop desired to discourse with them himself about it; and
they all agreeing, that he might lawfully subscribe the king's will, he
was at last prevailed with to resign his own private scruples to their
authority, and set his hand to it.
Having done this, he thought himself obliged in conscience to join
the Lady Jane : but her short-lived power soon expired ; when Mary
and persecution mounted the throne, and Cranmer could expect
nothing less than what ensued — attainder, imprisonment, deprivation,
and death.
He was condemned for treason, and, with pretended clemency, par-
doned ; but, to gratify Gardiner's malice, and her own implacable re-
sentment against him for her mother's divorce, Mary gave orders to
proceed against him for heresy. His friends, who foresaw the storm,
had advised him to consult his safety by retiring beyond sea ; but he
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 387
chose rather to continue steady to the cause, which he had hitherto so
nobly supported ; ar.d preferred the probability of sealing his testimony
with his blood, to an ignominious and dishonourable flight.
The Tower was crowded with prisoners ; insomuch that Cranmer,
Ridley, Latimer, and Bradford, were all put into one chamber; which
lliey were so far from thinking {..l inconvenience, that on the contrary,
they blessed God for the opportu:.\ty of conversing together: reading
and comparing the scriptures, conlimiing themselves in the true faith,
and mutually exhorting each other n constancy in professing it, and
patience in suflering for it. Happy society ! blessed martyrs ! ra-
ther to be envied, than the purpled v'vrant, with the sword deep-
drenched in blood, though encircled with all the pomp and pageantry
of power !
In April, 1554, the archbishop, with Bishops Ridley and Latimer,
was removed from the Tower to Windsor, aud from thence to Oxford,
to dispute with some select persons of both universities. But how
vain are disputations, where the fate of men is fixed, and every word
is misconstrued ! And such was the case here : for on April the 20th,
Cranmerwas brought to St. Mary's before the queen's commissioners,
and refusing to subscribe to the popish articles, he was pronounced
a heretic, and sentence of condemnation was passed upon him. Upon
which he told them, that he appealed from their unjust sentence to
that of the Almighty ; and that he trusted to be received into his pre-
sence in heaven for maintaining the truth, as set forth in his most holy
gospel.
After this his servants were dismissed from their attendance, and
himself closely confined in Bocardo, the prison of the city of Oxford.
But this sentence being void in law, as the pope's authority was want-
ing, a new commission was sent from Rome in 1555 ; and in St. Mary's
church at the high altar, the court sat, and tried the already condemned
Cranmer. He was here well nigh too strong for his judges ; and if
reason and truth could have prevailed, there would have been no doub<
who should have been acquitted, and who condemned.
The February following, a new commission was given to Bishof
Bonner and Bishop Thirlby, for the degradation of the archbishop.
When they came down to Oxford he was brought before them; and
after they had read their commission from the pope, (for not appear-
ing before whom in person, as they had cited him, he was declared
contumacious, though they themselves had kept him a close prisoner)
Bonner, in a scurrilous oration, insulted over him in the most unchris-
tian manner, for which he was often rebuked by Bishop Thirlby, who
wept, and declared it was the most sorrowful scene he had ever be-
held in his whole life. In the commission it was declared that the
cause had been impartially heard at Rome ; the witnesses on both
sides examined, and the archbishop's counsel allowed to make the best
defence for him they could.
At the reading this, the archbishop could not help crying out, " Good
God ! what lies are these ; that I, being continually in prison, and not
suffered to have counsel or advocate at home, should produce wit-
nesses, and appoint my counsel at Rome ! God must needs punish this
shameless and open lying !"
When Bonner had finished his invective, they proceeded to degrade
him ; and that they might make him as ridiculous as they could, the
388 BOOK OF MARTYRS
episcopal habit which they put on him was made of canvass and old
rags Bonner, in the meantime, by way of triumph and mockery,
calling him " Mr. Canterbury," and the like.
lie bore all this treatment with his wonted fortitude and patience ;
told them, " the degradation gave him no concern, for he had long
despised those ornaments;" but when they came to take away his
crosier he held it fast, and delivered his appeal to Thirlby, saying,
" 1 appeal to the next general council."
When they had stripped him of all his habits, they put on him a poor
yeoman-beadle's gown, thread-bare and ill-shaped, and a townsman's
cap ; and in this manner delivered him to the secular power to be car-
ried back to prison, where he was kept entirely destitute of money,
and totally secluded from his friends. Nay, such was the fury of his
enemies, that a gentleman was taken into custody by Bonner, and
narrowly escaped a trial, for giving the poor archbishop money to buy
him a dinner.
Cranmer had now been imprisoned almost three years, and death
should have soon followed his sentence and degradation ; but his cruel
enemies reserved him for greater misery and insult. Every engine
that could be thought of was employed to shake his constancy ; but he
held fast to the profession of his faith. Nay, even when he saw the
barbarous martyrdom of his dear companions, Ridley and Latimer,
he was so far from shrinking, that he not only prayed to God to
strengthen them, but also, by their example, to animate him to a pa-
tient expectation and endurance of the same fiery trial.
The papists, after trying various severe ways to bring Cranmer over
without effect, at length determined to try what gentle methods would
do. They accordingly removed him from prison to the lodgings of
the dean of Christ-church, where they urged every persuasive and
affecting argument to make him deviate from his faith ; and, indeed,
too much melted his gentle nature, by the false sunshine of pretended
civility and respect.
The unfortunate prelate, however, withstood every temptation, at
which his enemies were so irritated, that they removed him from the
dean's lodgings to the most loathsome part of the prison in which he
had been confined, and then treated him with unparalleled severity.
This was more than the infirmities of so old a man could support ; the
frailty of human nature prevailed ; and he was induced to sign the fol-
lowing recantation, drawn from him by the malice and artifices of his
enemies :
" I, Thomas Cranmer, late archbishop of Canterbury, do renounce,
abhor, and detest,' all manner of heresies and errors of Luther and
Zuinglius, and all other teachings which are contrary to sound and true
doctrine. And I believe most constantly in my heart, and with my
mouth I confess one holy and catholic church visible, without which
there is no salvation ; and thereof I acknowledge the bishop of Rome
to be supreme head in earth, whom I acknowledge to be the highest
bishop and pope, and Christ's vicar, unto whom all Christian people
ought to be subject.
"And as concerning the sacraments, I believe in the worship and tlie
sacrament of the altar the very body and blood of Christ, being contained
most truly under the forms of bread and wine ; the bread through
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. ^Q
the mighty power of God being turned into the body of our Saviour
Jesus Christ, and the wine into his blood.
" And in the other six sacraments also, (like as in this,) I believe
and hold as the universal church holdeth, and the church of Rome
judgeth and determineth.
" Furthermore, I believe that there is a place of purgatory, where
souls departed be punished for a time, for whom the church doth godly
and wholesomely pray, like as it doth honour saints and make prayers
to them.
" Finally, in all things, I profess that I do not otherwise believe
than the catholic church and church of Rome holdeth and teacheth. I
am sorry that ever I held or thought otherwise. And I beseech Al-
mighty God, that of his mercy he will vouchsafe to forgive me, what-
soever I have oflended against God or his church, and also I desire
and beseech all Christian people to pray for me.
"And all such as have been deceived either by mine example or
doctrine, I require them, by the blood of Jesus Christ, that they will
return to the unity of the church, that we may be all of one mind,
without schism or division.
"And to conclude, as I submit myself to the Catholic church of
Christ, and to the supreme head thereof, so I submit myself unto the
most excellent majesties of Philip and Mary, king and queen of this
realm of England, &lc. and to all other their laws and ordinances, be-
ing ready always as a faithful subject ever to obey them. And God
IS my M'itness, that I have not done tliis for favour or fear of any per-
son, but willingly and of mine own conscience, as to the instruction
of others."
This recantation of the archbishop was immediately printed, and
distributed throughout the country ; and to establish its authenticity,
first was added the name of Thomas Cranmer, with a solemn sub-
scription, then followed the witnesses of his recantation, Henry Sydal
and friar John de Villa Garcina. All this time Cranmer had no cer-
tain assurance of his life, although it was faithfully promisecl to him
by the doctors : but after they had gained their purpose, the rest they
committed to chance, as usual with men of their religion. The queen,
having now found a time to revenge her old grudge against him, re-
ceived his recantation very gladly ; but would not alter her intention
of putting him to death.
The quaint simplicity with which the following account of the con-
cluding scene of this good man's life is given, renders it more valua-
ble and interesting than any narrative of the same transactions in
" modern phrase ;" we therefore give it verbatim.
Now Avas Dr. Cranmer in a miserable case, having neither inwardly
any quietness in his own conscience, nor yet outwardly any help
in his adversaries.
Besides this, on the one side was praise, on the other side scorn, on
both sides danger, so that he could neither die honestly, nor yet ho
nestly live. And whereas he sought profit, he fell into double dis-
profit, that neither with good men he could avoid secret shame, nor
yet with evil men the note of dissimulation.
In the mean time, while these tilings were doing in the prison
among the doctors, the queen taking secret council how to despatch
Cranmer out of the way, (who as yet knew not of her secret hate,
390 B'JOK OF MARTYRS.
and was not expecting death) appointed Dr. Cole, and secretly g^ve
him in commandment, that against the 21st of March he should pre-
pare a funeral sermon for Cranmer's burning, and so instructing him
orderly and diligently of her will and pleasure in that behalf, sent
him away.
Soon after, the Lord Williams of Tame, and the Lord Shandois, Sii
Thomas Bridges, and Sir John Brown, were sent for, with other %vor-
shipful men and justices, commanded in the queen's name to be at
Oxford on the same day, Avith thei: servants and retinue, lest Cran-
mer's death should raise there any tumult.
Dr. Cole having this lesson given him before, and charged by her
commandment, returned to Oxford, ready to play his part ; who, as
the day of execution drew near, even the day before, came into the
prison to Dr. Cranmer, to try whether he abode in the catholic faith
wherein before he had left him. To whom, when Cranmer had an-
swered, that by God's grace he would be daily more confirmed in the
catholic faith ; Cole departing for that time, the next day following
repaired to the archbishop again, giving no signification as yet of his
death that was prepared. And therefore in the morning, which was
the 21st day of March, appointed for Cranmer's execution, the said
Cole coming to him, asked him if he had any money, to whom when
he had answered that he had none, he delivered fifteen crowns to give
to the poor, to whom he would ; and so exhorting him as much as he
could to constancy in faith, departed thence about his business, as to
his sermon appertained.
By this partly, and other like arguments, the archbishop began
more and more to surmise what they were about. Then because the
day was not far spent, and the lords and knights that were looked for
were not yet come, there came to him the Spanish friar, witness of
his recantation, bringing a paper with articles, which Cranmer should
openly profess in his recantation before the people, earnestly desirL.g
him that he would write the said instrument with the articles with his
own hand, and sign it with his name : which, Avhen he had done, the
said friar desired that he would write another copy thereof, which
should remain with him, and that he did also. But yet the archbi-
shop, being not ignorant whereunto their secret devices tended, and
thinking that the time was at hand in which he could no longer dis-
semble the profession of his faith with Christ's people, he put his
prayer and his exhortation written in another p«per secretly into his
bosom, which he intended to recite to the people before he should
make the last profession of his faith, fearing lest if they heard the
confession of his faith first, they would not afterwards have suffered
him to exhort the people.
Soon after, about nine o'clock, the Lord Williams, Sir Thomas
Bridges, Sir John Brown, and the other justices, with certain other
noblemen, that were sent of the queen's council, came to Oxford with
a great train of waiting men. Also of the other multitude on every
side (as is wont in such a matter) was made a great concourse, and
greater expectation : for first of all, they that were of the pope's
side were in great hope that day to hear something of Cranmer that
should establish the vanity of their opinion : the other part, who
were endued with a better mind, could not yet doubt that he, who by
continued study and labour for so many years, had set forth the doc-
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. S91
trine of the gospel, either would or could now in the last act of his
life forsake his part. Briefly, as every man's will inclineil, either to
this part or to that, so according to the diversity of tlieir desires, every
man wished and hoped for. And yet hecaiise in an uncertain tiling the
certainty could be known of none wliat wouhl be the end ; all their
minds were hanging between hope and duubl. So that the greater the
expectation was in so doubtfid a matter, the more was the multitude
that was gathered thither to hear and behold.
During this great expectation, Dr. Cranmer at length came from
the prison of Bocardo unto St. Mary's church, (because it was a foul
and rainy day,) the chief churcli in the university, in this order.
The mayor went before, next him the aldermen in their place and
degree; after them was Cranmer brought between two friars, which
mumbling to and fro certain psalms in tlie streets, answered one
another until they came to the church door, and there they began the
song of Simeon, " Nunc dijiiittis ;" and entering into the church, the
psalm-singing friars brought him to his standing, and there left him.
There was a stage set over against the pulpit, of a mean height from
the ground, where Cranmer had his standing, waiting until Dr. Cole
made ready for his sermon.
The lamentable case and sight of that man was a sorrowful specta-
cle to all Christian eyes that beheld him. He that lately was arch-
bishop, metropolitan, and primate of all England, und the king's
privy counsellor, being now in a bare and ragged gown, and illfa-
vouredly clothed, with an old square cap, exposed to the contempt of
all men, did admonish men not only of his own calamity, but also of
their state and fortune. For who would not pity his case, and might
not fear his own chance, to see such a prelate, so grave a counsellor,
and of so long continued honour, after so many dignities, in his old
years to be deprived of his estate, adjudged to die, and in so painful
a death to end his life, and now presently from such fresh ornaments
to descend to such vile and ragged apparel 1
In this habit when he had stood a good space upon the stage, turn-
ing to a pillar near adjoining thereunto, he lifted up his hands to hea-
ven, and prayed unto God once or twice, till at length Dr. Cole coming
into the pulpit, and beginning his sermo-n, entered first into men-
tion of Tobias and Zachary ; whom after he had praised in the be-
ginning of his sermon for their perseverance in the true worshipping
of God, he then divided his whole sermon into three parts (according
to the solemn cus-tom of the schools,) intending to speak first of the
mercy of God : secondly, of his justice to be showed : and last of all,
how the prince's secrets are not to be opened. And proceeding a
little from the beginning, he took occasion by and by to turn his tale
to Cranmer, and with many hot words reproved him, that he being
one endued with the favour and feeling of wholesome and catholic
doctrinei, fell into a contrary opinion of pernicious error; which he
had not only defended by his writings, and all his poAver, but also al-
lured other men to do the like, with great liberality of gifts, as it were
appointing rewards for error ; and after he had allured them, by all
means did cherish them.
It were too long to repeat all things, that in long order were pro-
nounced. The sum of his tripartite declamation was, that he said
God's mercy Avas so tempered with his justice, that lie. did not altoge
^92 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
ther require punishment according to the merits of oflenders, nor yet
sometimes suffered the same to go altogether unpunished, yea, though
they had repented. As in David, v/]io when he was bidden to choose
of three kinds of punishment whicli he would, and he had chosen pes-
tilence for three days, the lord forgave him half the lime, but did not
release all ; and that the same thing carne to pass in him also, to whom
although pardon and reconciliation was due according to the canons,
seeing he repented of his errors, yet there were causes why the queen
and the council at this time judged him to death ; of which, lest he
should marvel too much, he should hear some.
First ; That being a traitor, he had dissolved the lawful matriniony
between the king and queen, her father and mother; besides the
driving out of the pope's authority, while he was metropolitan.
Secondly ; That he had been a heretic, from whom, as from an
author and only fountain, all heretical doctrine and schismatical opi-
nion, that so many years have prevailed in England, did first rise and
spring; of which he had not been a secret favourer only, but also a
most earnest defender, even to the end of his life, sowing them abroad
by writings and arguments, privately and openly, not without great
ruin and decay to the catholic church.
And farther, it seemed meet, according to the law of equality, that
as the death of the late duke of Northumberland made even with
Thomas More, chancellor, that died for the church ; so there should
be one that should 7nake even with Fisher of Rochester ; and because
that Ridley, Hooper, and P^arrar, were not able to make even with
that man, it seemed that Cranmer should be joined to them to fill up
their part of the equality.
Besides these, there were other just and weighty causes, which ap-
peared to the queen and council, which was not meet at that time to
be opened to the common people.
After this, turning his tale to the hearers, he bid all men beware by
this man's example, that among men nothing is so high that can pro-
mise itself safety on the earth, and that God's vengeance is equally
stretched against all men, and spareth none ; therefore they should
beware, and learn to i'ear their prince. And seeing the queen's ma-
jesty would not spare so notable a man as tliis, much less in the like
cause would she spare other men, that no man should think to make
thereby any defence of his error, either in riches, or any kind of au
thority. They had now an example to teach them all, by w hose ca
lamity every man might consider his own fortune ; who, from the top
of dignity, none being more honourable than he in the whole realm
and next the king, was fallen into such great misery, as they might
see, being a person of such high degree, sometime one of the chief pre-
lates of the church, and an archbishop, tlie chief of the council, the
second person in the realm a long time, a man thought in great assu-
rance, having a king on his side ; notwithstanding all his authority and
defence, to be debased from high estate to a low degree, of a counsel-
lor to become a caitiff", and to be set in so wretched a state, that the
poorest wretch would not change condition with him ; briefly, so
heaped with misery on all sides, that neither was left in him any hope
of better fortune, nor place for v/orse.
The latter part of his sermon he converted to the archbishop, whom
ne comforted and encouraged to take his death well, by many places
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 393
\)f scripture, as with these, and such like ; bidding him not to mis-
trust, but he should incontinently receive what the thief did, to whom
Christ said, " This day thou shalt be with me in paradise ;" and out
of St. P.iul he armed him against the terror of fire by this, " The
Lord is faithful, which wall not sutler you to be tempted above your
strength ;" by the example of the three children, to whom God made
the tlame to seem like a pleasant dew ; adding also the rejoicing of
St. Andrew on his cross, the patience of St. Lawrence in the fire,
either Avould abate the fury of the flame, or give him strength to
abide it.
He glorified God much in his (Cranmer's) conversion, because it
appeared to be only His (the Almighty's) work, declaring what travail
and conference had been with him to convert him, and all prevailed
not, till that it pleased God of his mercy to reclaim him, and call him
home. In discoursing of which place, he much commended Cran-
mer, and qualified his former doings, thus tempering his judgment and
talk of him, that all the time (said he) he flowed in riches and honour,
he was unworthy of his life ; and now that he might not live, he was
unworthy of death. But lest he should carry with him no comfort,
he would diligently labour, (he said,) and also did promise, in the name
of all the priests that were present, that immediately after his death
there should be dirges, masses, and funerals, executed for him in all
the churches of Oxford, for the succour of his soul.
All this time, with what great grief of mind Cranmer stood hearing
this sermon, the outward shows of his body and countenance did bet-
ter express, than any man can declare ; one while lifting up his hands
and eyes unto heaven, and then again for shame letting them down to
the earth. A man might have seen the very image and shape of per-
fect sorrow^ lively in him expressed. More than twenty several times
the tears gushed out abundantly, dropping down marvellously from
his fatherly face. They that were present do testify, that they never
saw in any child more tears than came from him at that time, during
the whole sermon ; but especially when he recited his prayer before
the people. It is marvellous what commiseration and pity moved all
men's hearts, that beheld so heavy a countenance, and such abundance
of tears in an old man of so reverend dignity.
After Cole had ended his sermon, he called back the people to
prayers that were ready to depart, " Brethren," said he, *' lest any
man should doubt of this man's earnest conversion and repentance,
you shall hear him speak before you ; and, therefore, I pray you, Mr.
Cranmer, to perform that now, which you promised not long ago ;
namely, that you would openly express the true and undoubted pro-
fession of your faith, that you may take away all suspicion from men,
and that all men may understand that you are a catholic indeed."
" I will do it," said the archbishop, " and that with a good will ;"
who, rising up, and putting off his cap, began to speak thus unto the
people :
" Good Christian people, my dearly beloved brethren and sisters in
Christ, I beseech you most heartily to pray for me to Almighty God,
that he will forgive me all my sins and offences, which be many Avith-
out number, and great above measure. But yet one thing grieveth
my conscience more than all the rest, whereof, God willing, I intend
to speak more hereafter. But how great and how many soever my
394 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
sins be, I beseech yon to pray to God of his merry to pardon ar
forgive them all," And here kneeling down, he said the following
prayer :
" O Father of Heaven, O Son of God, Redeemer of the world, C
Holy Ghost, three persons and one God, have mercy upon me, most
wretched caitiff and miserable sinner. I have otl'ended both against
heaven and earth, more than my tongue can express. Whither ther.
may I go, or whither shall I flee ? To heaven I may be ashamed to
lift up mine eyes, and in earth I find no place of refuge or succour.
To thee, therefore, O Lord, do I run ; to thee do I humble myself,
saying, O Lord my God, my sins be great, but yet have mercy upon
me, for thy great mercy. The great mystery that God became man
was not wrought for little or few offences. Thou didst not give thy
Son (O heavenly Father) unto death for small sins only, but for all the
greatest sins of the world, so that the sinner return to thee with hif
whole heart, as I do at this present. Wherefore have mercy on me
O God, whose property is always to have mercy; have mercy upor
me, O Lord, for thy great mercy. I crave nothing for mine own me
rits, but for thy name's sake, that it may be hallowed thereby, and foT
thy Son Jesus Christ's sake. And now, therefore, O Father of heaven
hallowed be thy name," &-c. And then he, rising, said :
" Every man (good people) desireth at the time of his death to give
some good exhortation, that others may remember the same befor*
their death, and be the better thereby ; so I beseech God grant mi
grace, that I may speak something at this my departing, whereby Goc
may be glorified, and you edified.
"First ; it is a heavy cause to see that so many folk so much doa
upon the love of this false world, and be so careful for it, that of thf
love of God, or the world to come, they seem to care very little oj
nothing. Therefore, this shall be my first exhortation : that you se'
not your minds overmuch upon this deceitful world, but upon God
and upon the world to come, and to learn to know what this lessor
meaneth that St. John teacheth, ' That the love of this world is
hatred against God.'
" The second exhortation is, that next under God you obey youi
king and queen willingly and gladly, without murmuring or grudg-
ing; not for fear of them only, but much more for the fear of God*
knowing that they be God's ministers, appointed by God to rule and
govern you ; and, therefore, whosoever resisteth them, resisteth the
ordinance of God.
" The third exhortation is, that you love altogether like brethren
and sisters. For, alas ! pity it is to see what contention and hatred
one Christian man beareth to another, not taking each other as brothei
and sister, but rather as strangers and mortal enemies. But I pray
you learn, and bear well away this one lesson, to do good unto all
men, as much as in you lieth, and to hurt no man, no more than you
would hurt your own natural loving brother or sister. For this you
may be sure of, that whosoever hateth any person, and goeth about
maliciously to hinder or hurt him, surely, and without all doubt, God
is not with that man, although he think himself ever so much ii
God's favour.
" The fourth exhortation shall be to them that have great substance
nd riches of this world ; that they will well consider and weigh
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 395
three sayings of the scripture ; one is of our Saviour himself, who
saith, Luke xviii, ' It is hard for a rich man to enter into tlie kingdom
of heaven.' A sore saying, and yet spoken by him who knovveth the
truth.
" The second is of St. Jolm, 1 John, iii. whose saying is this, ' He
that hath the substance of this world, and seeth his brother in neces-
sity, and shutteth up his mercy from him, hjw can he say that he
loveth God ?'
" The third is of St. James, who speaketh to the covetous rich man
after this manner, ' Weep you and howl for the misery that shall
come upon vou ; your riches do rot, your clothes be moth-eaten, your
gold and si ver doth canker and rust, and their rust shall bear witness
against you, and consume you like lire ; you gather a hoard or treasure
of God's ind gnation against the last day.' Let t!iem that be rich pon-
der well these three sentences ; for if they ever had occasion to show
their charity, they have it now at this present, the poor people being so
many, and victuals so dear.
" And now forasmuch as I am come to the last end of my life, where-
upon hangeth all my life past, and all my life to come, either to live with
my Master, Christ, for ever in joy, or else to be in pain for ever with
wicked devils in hell, and I see before mine eyes presently either
heaven ready to receive me, or else hell ready to swallow me up ; I
shall, therefore, declare unto you my very faith how I believe, without
any colour of dissimulation ; for now is no time to dissemble, whatso-
ever I have said or written in times past.
" First ; I believe in God the Father Alm^ighty, maker of heaven
ai.'d earth, &c. And I believe every article of the Catholic faith,
every word and sentence taught by our Saviour Jesus Christ, his apos-
tles and prophets, in the New and Old Testament.
" And now I come to the great thing which so much troubleth my
conscience, more than any thing that ever I did or said in my whole
life, and that is the setting abroad of a writing contrary to the truth;
which now here I renounce and refuse, as things written with my hand
contrary to the truth which I thought in my heart, and written for
fiear of death, and to save my life, if it might be ; and that is, all such
bills and papers which I have written or signed with my hand since
my degradation, wherein I have written many things untrue. And
forasrruch as my hand hath offended, writing contrary to my heart,
therefore my hand shall first be punished ; for when I come to the
fire, it shall be first burned.
" And as for the pope, I refuse him, as Christ's enemy, and anti-
christ, with all his false doctrine.
" And as for the sacrament, I believe as I have taught in my book
against the bishop of Winchester, which my book teacheth so true a
doctrine of the sacrament, that it shall stand at the last day before the
judgment of God, where the papistical doctrine contrary thereto shall
be ashamed to show her face."
Here the standers-by were all astonished, marvelled, and amazed,
and looked upon one another, Avhose expectation he had so notably
deceived. Some began to admonish him of his recantation, and to
accuse him of falsehood.
Briefly, it was strange to see the doctors beguiled of so great an
hope. I think there was never cruelty more notably, or betteii. n time
396 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
deluded and deceived. For it is not to be doubted, but they looked
for a glorious victory, and a perpetual triumph by this man's retrac-
tion.
As soon as they heard these things, they began to let down their
ears, to rage, fret, and fume ; and so much the more because they
could not revenge their grief; for they could now no longer threaten
or hurt him. For the most miserable man in the world can die but
once ; and whereas of necessity he must needs die that day, though
the papists had been ever so well pleased ; being ever so much offend-
ed with him, yet could not he be twice killed by them. And so when
they could do nothing else unto him, yet lest they should say nothing,
they ceased not to object unto him his ft Isehood and dissimula-
tion.
Unto which accusation he answered, " Ah, my masters," quoth he,
" do you not take it so ? Always since I hav.; lived hitherto, I have
been a hater of falsehood, and a lover of simplicity, and never before
this time have I dissembled ;" and in saying this, all the tears that re-
mained in his body appeared in his eyes. And when he began to speak
more of the sacrament and of the papacy, some of them began to cry
out, yelp, and bawl, and especially Cole cried out upon him, " Stop
the heretic's mouth, and take him away."
And then Cranmer being pulled down from the stage, was led to
the fire, accompanied with those friars, vexing, troubling, and threaten-
ing him most cruelly. "What madness," say they, "hath brought
thee again into this error, by Avhich thou wilt draw innumerable souls
with thee into hell ?" To whom he answered nothing, but directed all
his talk to the people, saving that to one troubling him in the way, he
spake, and exhorted him to get him home to his study, and apply to
his book diligently ; saying, if he did diligently call upon God by read-
ing more he should get knowledge.
But the other Spanish barker, raging and foaming, was almost out
of his wits, always having this in his mouth, Non fecesti ? " Didst
thou it not ?"
But when he came to the place where the holy bishops and mar-
tyrs of God, Bishop Latimer and Bishop Ridley, were burnt before
him for the confession of the truth, kneeling down he prayed to God;
and not long tarrying in his prayers, putting off his garment to his
shirt, he prepared himself for death. His shirt was made long, down
to his feet. His feet were bare ; likewise his head, when both his
caps were off, was so bare that one hair could not be seen upon it.
His beard was so long and thick, that it covered his face with marvel-
lous gravity ; and his reverend countenance moved the hearts both of
his friends and enemies.
Then the Spanish friars, John and Richard, of whom mention was
made before, began to exhort him, and play their parts with him
afresh, but with vain and lost labour. Cranmer with steadfast purpose
abiding in the profession of his doctrine, gave his hand to certain old
men, and others that stood by, bidding them farewell.
And when he had thought to have done so likewise to Mr. Ely, the
said Ely drew back his hand and refused, saying, it was not lawful to
salute heretics, and especially such a one as falsely returned unto the
opinions that he had forsworn. And if he had known before that
he would have done so, he would never have used his company so
ARCHBISHOP CRANMER. 397
familiarly, and chid those Serjeants and citizens, who had not refused
to give him their hands. This Mr. Ely was a student in divinity, and
lately made a priest, being then one of the fellows in Brazen-nose
College.
Then was an iron chain tied about Cranmer, and they commanded
the fire to be set unto him.
And when the wood was kindled, and the fire began to burn near
him, he stretched forth his right hand, which had signed his recanta-
tion, into the flames, and there held it so steadfast that all the people
miglit see it burn to a coal before his body was touched. In short,
he was so patient and constant in the midst of these extrcm-e tortures,
that he seemed to move no more than the stake to which he was bound ;
his eyes were lifted up to heaven and often he repeated, " this un-
worthy right hand," so long as his voice would sufl"er him ; and as of-
ten using the words of the blessed martyr St. Stephen, " Lord Jesus,
receive my spirit," till the fury of the flames putting him to silence,
he gave up the ghost.
This fortitude of mind, which perchance is rare and not found
among the Spaniards, when Friar John saw, thinking it came not of
fortitude, but of desperation, although such manner of examples
which are of like constancy, have been common in England, he ran
to the Lord Williams of Tame, crying that the archbishop was vexed
in mind, and died in great desperation. But he, who was not igno-
rant of the archbishop's constancy, being unknown to the Spaniards,
smiled only, and as it were by silence rebuked the friar's folly. And
this was the end of this learned archbishop, whom, lest by evil sub-
scribing he should have perished, by well recanting, God preserved ;
and lest he should have lived longer with shame and reproof, it pleased
God rather to take him away, to the glory of his name and profit of
his church. So good was the Lord both to his church, in fortifying
the same with the testimony and blood of such a martyr ; and so good
also to the man v/ith this cross of tribulation, to purge his offences in
this world, not cnly of liis recantation, but also of his standing against
John Lambert and Mr. Allen, or if they were any other, with whose
burning or blood his hand had been any thing before polluted. But
especially he had to rejoice, that dying in such a cause, he was num-
bered amongst the martyrs of Christ, and much more worthy of the
name of St. Thomas of Canterbury, than he whom the pope falsely
before did canonize.
Thus died Thomas Cranmer, in the 67th year of his age. He was
a man of great candour, and a firm friend, which appeared signally in
the misfortunes of Anne Boleyn, Cromwell, and the duke of Somer-
set. In his writings he rather excelled in great industry and good
judgment, than in a quickness of apprehension, or a closeness of
style. He employed his revenues on pious and charitable uses ; and
in his table he was truly hospitable, for he entertained great numbers
of his poor neighbours often at it. The gentleness and humility of his
deportment were very remarkable. His last fall was the greatest
blemish of his life, yet that was exp'ated by a sincere repentance ;
and while we drop a tear over this melancholy instance of human
frailty, we must acknowledge with praise Oie interposition of Divine
Providence in his return to the truth. And it seemed necessary that
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
tlie reformation of the church, being the restoring of the primitive
and apostolic doctrine, should have been chiefly carried on by a man
thus eminent for primitive and apostolic virtues.
SECTION X.
PERSECUTIONS AND MARTYRDOMS OF VARIOUS PERSONS, AFTER THB
DEATH OF ARCHBISHOP CRANMER.
The force of bigotry in the breast of the unrelenting Mary, only
terminated wilh her life. The destruction of those who could not
think as she did, was her principal employment, and her greatest
pleasure. Her emissaries were continually " seeking whom they
might devour ;'' and the martyrdoms and cruelties inflicted under her
orders, will load her name with indelible infamy.
Martyrdoms of John Maundrel, William Coherly, and John Spicer.
John Maui:drcl was the son of Robert Maundrel, of Rowd, in the
county of Wilts, farmer ; he was from his childhood brought up to
husbandry, and Avhen he came to man's estate, he dwelt in a village
called Buckhampton, in the above county, where he lived in good
repute. After the scripture v/as translated into Englieh, by William
Tindal, this John Maundrel became a diligent hearer thereof, and a
fervent embracer of God's true religion, so that he delighted in
nothing so much as to hear and speak of God's word, never being
without the New Testament about him, although he could not read
himself, as was at that period too frequently the case among persons
in his station of life. But when he came into the company of any
one who could read, his book was always ready ; and having a very
good memory, he could recite by heart most places of the New
Testament ; and bis life and conversation were very honest and
charitable.
In the reign of Kin.j Henry the Eighth, when Dr. Trigonion and
Dr. Lee visited the abbeys, John Maundrel was brought before Dr.
Trigonion, at an abbey called Edyngton, in Wiltshire ; Avhere he
was accused that he had spoken against the holy water and holy
[read, and such like ceremonies, and was condemned to wear a
white sheet, bearing a candle in his hand, about the market, in the
town of Devizes. Nevertheless, his fervency did not abate, but, by
God's merciful assistance, he took better hold, as the sequel will
declare.
In the days of Queen Mary, when popery was restored again, and
God's true religion put to silence, Maimdrel left his own house and
went into Gloucestershire, and into the north part of Wiltshire, wan-
dering from one to another to such men as he knew feared God, with
whom, as a servant to keep their cattle, h<; remained some time ; he
•afterwards retm-ned to his own county, and coming to Devizes, to a
friend of his, named Anthony Clee, he mentioned his intention of re-
turning home to his house.
And when his friend exhorted him by the words of scripture to (lee
from one city to another, he replied again by the words of the Reve-
MAUNDREL, COBERLV, AND SPICER. 399
latiors of them that, be fearful, r.nil said, that he must needs go home ;
and so he did ; and here he, Spiccr, and Coberly, used at times to
resort and confer together.
At length they agreed together to go to the parish church, where,
seeing the parishioners in the procession, following and worshipping
the idol there carried, they advised them to leave the same, and to
return to the living God, particularly speaking to one Robert Barks-
dale, the principal man of the parish, but he paid no regard to their
words.
After this the vicar came into the pulpit, and being about to read
his bead-roll, and to pray for the souls in purgatory, John Maundrel,
speaking with an audible voice, said, that was the pope's pinfold, the
other two affirming the same. Upon which words, by command of
tlie priest, they were put in the stocks, where they remained till the
service was done, and then were brought before a justice of the peace ;
the next day they were all three carried to Salisbury, and taken be-
fore Bishop Capon, and William Gefirey, chancellor of the diocese ;
by whom they were imprisoned, and oftentimes examined concerning
their faith, in their houses, but seldom openly. And at the last exami-
nation the usual anicles being alleged against them, they answered,
as Christian men should and ought to believe : and first they sai-l, they
believed in God the Father, and in the Son, and in the Holy Ghost,
the twelve articles of the creed, the holy scripture from the first of
Genesis to the last of the Revelation.
But that faith the chancellor would not allow. Wherefore he pro-
posed them in particular articles : First, whether they did not believe
that in the sacrament of the altar, (as he termed it,) after the words
of consecration spoken by the priest at mass, there remained no sub
stance of bread nor wine, but Christ's body, flesh, and blood, as ht
was born of the Virgin Mary. To which they answered negatively
saying that the popish mass was abominable idolatry, and injurious ti
the blood of Christ; but confessing, that in a foithful congregation
receiving the sacrament of Christ's body and blood, being duly admi-
nistered according to Christ's institution, Christ's body and blood is
spiritually received of the faithful believer.
Also, being asked whether the pop'^ was supreme head of the
church, and Christ's vicar on earth ; they answered negatively, say
ing, that the bishop of Rome doth usurp over emperors and kings,
being antichrist and God's enemy.
The chancellor said, " Will you have the church without a head ?'
They answered, " Christ was head of his church, and under Christ
the queen's majesty.*'
" W^hat," said the chancellor, " a woman head of the churcli V
" Yea," said they, " within her grace's dominions."
They were also asked Avhether the soids in purgatory were delivered
by thp pope's pardon, and the suffrages of the church.
They said, they believed faithfully that the blood of Christ had
purged their sins, and the sins of them that were saved, unto tlie end
of the world, so that they feared nothing of the pope's piu'gatcry, nor
esteemed his pardons.
Also, whether images were necessary to be in the churches, as
laymen's books, and saints to be prayed unto and worshipped.
They answered negatively, John Maundrel adding, " tliat wooden
400 B(K)K OF MARTYRS.
images were good to roast a shoulder of mutton, but evil in the church;
whereby idolatry was committed."
Those articles being thus answered, the chancellor read their con-
demnation, and so delivered them to the sheriff, who was present
during the examination. John Spicer then said, " O, master sheriff,
now must you be their butcher, that you may be guilty also with them
of innocent blood before the Lord." This was on the 22d day of
March, 1556, and on the following day, they Avere carried out of the
common gaol to a place between Salisbury and Wilton, where were
two stakes set for them to be burnt at. Upon coming to the place,
they kneeled down, and made their prayers secretly together, and
then being undressed to their shirts, John Maundrel cried out with a
loud voice, " Not for all Salisbury I" Which words Avere understood
to be an answer to the sheriff, who offered him the queen's pardon if
he would recant. And after that John Spicer said, " This is the joy-
fullest day that ever I saw." Thus Avere the three burnt at tAvo
stakes ; Avhere most constantly they gave their bodies to the fire, and
their souls to the Lord, for the testimony of his truth.
The Avife of William Coberly, being also apprehended, Avas detained
m the keeper's house at the same time that her husband Avas in pri-
son. The keeper's Avife, Agnes Penicote, having secretly heated a
key red hot, laid it in the back-yard, and desired Alice Coberly to
fetch it to her in all haste ; the poor Avoman Avent immediately to bring
it, and taking it up in haste, burnt her hand terribly. Whereupon
she crying out, " Ah ! thou drab," cried the keeper's Avife, " thou
that canst not abide the burning of the key, hoAv Avilt thou be able to
abide the burning of thy Avhole body ?" And indeed, she Avas Aveak
enough to recant.
But to return to the story of Coberly ; he being at the stake, Avas
somcAvhat long in burning : after his body Avas scorched Avith the
flames, and the fles!. of his left arm entirely consumed by the violence
of the fire, at length he stooped over the chain, and Avith the right
hand, Avhich Avas less injured, smote upon his breast softly, the blood
gushing out of his mouth. AfterAA'ards, Avhen all thought he had been
dead, suddenly he rose upright again, but shortly after expired, fol-
lowing his companions to the realms of eternal glory and felicity.
Martyrdoms of Richard and TTiomas Spurg, John Caxill, and George
Ambrose, Laymen ; and of Robert Drake and William. Tims,
Ministers.
These six pious Christians resided in the county of Essex. Being
accused of heresy, they Avere all apprehended, and sent by the Lord
Rich, and other commissioners, at different times, to Bishop Gardi-
ner, lord chancellor ; Avho, after a short examination, sent the four
first to the Marshalsea prison in the borough, and the tAvo last to the
King's Bench, Avhere they continued during a Avhole year, till the
death of Bishop Gardiner.
When Dr. Heath, archbishop of York, succeeded to the chancel-
lorship, four of these persecuted biethren, namely, Richard and Tho-
mas Spurg, John Cavill, and George Ambrose, Aveary of their tedious
confinement, presented a petition to the lord chancellor, subscribing
their names, and requesting his interest for their enlargement
SPURG, CAVILL, AMBROSE, DRAKE, AND TIMS. 401
A short time after the delivery of this petition. Sir Richard Read,
one of the officers of the court of Chancery, was sent by the chancel-
lor to the Marshalsea to examine them.
Richard Spurg, the first who passed examination, being asked the
cause of his imprisonment, repHed, that he, with several others, being
complained of by the minister of Docking for not coming to their
parish church, to the Lord Rich, was thereupon sent up to London
by his lordship, to be examined by the late chancellor.
He acknowledged that he had not been at church since the English
service was changed into Latin, (except on Christmas day was
twelvemonth,) because he disliked the same, and the mass also, as
not agreeable to God's holy word.
He then desired that he might be no farther examined concerning
this matter, until it pleased the present chancellor to inquire his faith
concerning the same, which he was ready to testify.
Thomas Spurg, on his examination, answered to the same effect
with the other, confessing that he absented himself from church, be-
cause the word of God was not there truly taught, nor the sacraments
of Christ duly administered, as prescribed by the same word.
Being farther examined touching his faith in the sacrament of the
altar ; he said, that if he stood accused in that particular, he would
answer as God had given him knowledge, which he should do at an-
other opportunity.
John Cavill likewise agreed in the chief particulars with his bre-
thren : but farther said, the cause of his absenting himself from church
was, that the minister there had advanced two doctrines contrary to
each other ; for first, in a sermon which he delivered when the queen
came to the crown, he exhorted the people to believe the gospel, de-
claring it to be the truth, and that if they believed it not, they would
be damned ; and secondly, in a future discourse, he declared that the
New Testament was false in forty places ; which contrariety gave
Cavill much disgust, and was, among other things, the cause of his
absenting himself from church.
George Ambrose answered to the same effect, adding, moreover,
that after he had read the late bishop of Winchester's book, entitled,
De vera Obedientia, with Bishop Bonner's preface thereunto annexed,
both inveighing against the authority of the bishop of Rome, he es-
teemed their principles more lightly than he had done before.
Robert Drake was minister of Thundersly, in Essex, to which liv-
ing he had been presented by Lord Rich in the reign of Edward VI.
when he was ordained priest by Dr. Ridley, then bishop of London,
according to the reformed English service of ordination.
On the accession of Queen Mary to the throne of England, he was
sent for by Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, who demanded of him
whether he would conform, like a good subject, to the laws of the
realm then in force ? He answered, that he would abide by those
laws that were agreeable to the law of God ; upon which he was im-
mediately committed to prison.
William Tims was a deacon and curate of Hockley, in Essex, in
the reign of Edward VI., but being deprived of his living soon after
the death of that monarch, he absconded, and privately preached in a
neighbouring wood, whither many of his flock attended to hear the
word of God.
26
402 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
In consequence of these proceedings he was apprehended by one of
the constables, and sent up to the bishop of London, by whom he was
referred to Gardiner, bishop of AVinchcster, and lord-chancellor, who
committed him to the king's bench prison.
A short time after his confinement, he (with the others beforemen-
tioned) was ordered to appear before the bishop of London, who
questioned him in the usual manner, concerning his faith in the sa
crament of the altar.
Mr. Tims answered, that the body of Christ was not in the sacra-
ment of the altav, really and corporeally, after the words of consecra-
tion spoken by the priest ; and that he had been a long time of that
opinion, ever since it had pleased God, of his infinite mercy, to call
him to the true knowledge of the gospel of his grace.
On the 28th of March, 1^56, these six persons were all brought
into the consistory court, m ^St. Paul's church, before the bisl.op of
London, in order to be examined, for the last time ; when he assured
them, that if they did not submit to the church of Rome, they should
be condemned for heresy.
The bishop began his examination with Tims, Avhom he called the
ringleader of the others ; he told him that he had taught them here-
sies, confirmed them in their erroneous opinions, and endeavoured,
as far as in him lay, to render them as abominable as himself; with
many other accusations equally false and op{)robrious.
He was then asked by the bishop what he had to say in his owt:i
vindication, in order to prevent him from proceeding against him as
his ordinary. To which he replied as follows :
" My lord, I am astonished that you should begin your charge with
a falsehood ; and aver that I am the ringleader of the company now
brought before you, and have taught them principles contrary to the
Romish church, since we have been in confinement ; but the injustice
of this declaration will soon appear, if you will inquire of these my
brethren, whether, when at liberty, and out of prison, they dissented
not from popish principles as much as they do at present ; such in
quiry, I presume, will render it evident, that they learned not their
religion in prison.
" For my own part, I declare I never knew them, till such time as 1
oecame their fellow-prisoner ; how thon could I be their ringleader
and teacher ? With respect to the charge alleged against me, a
charge which you endeavour to aggravate to the highest degree,
whatever opinion you maintain concerning me, I am Avell assured I
hold no other religion than what Christ ])reached, the apostles wit-
nessed, the primitive church received, and of late the apostolical and
evangelical preachers of this realm have faithfully taught, and foi
which you have cruelly caused them to be burnt, and now seek tc
treat us with the like inhuman severity. I acknowledge you to be
my ordinary."
The bishop, finding it necessary to come to the point with him,
demanded, if he Avould submit to the holy mother church, promising,
that if he did, he should be kindly received ; and threatening, at the
same time, that if he did n.ot, judgment should be pronounced against
him as a heretic.
In answer to this, Tims told his lordship he was well persuaded that
he was within the pale of the catholic church, whatever he might
SPURG, CAVILL, AND OTHERS. 405
think ; and reminded him, tliat he had most solemnly abjured that
very church to which he since professed such strenuous allegiance ,
and tliat, contrary to his oalli, he again admitted in this realm the
authority of the pope, and was, therefore, perjured and forsworn in
the highest degree. He also recalled to his memory, that he had
spoken with great force and perspicuity against the usurped power
of tlie pope, though he afterwards sentenced persons to be burnt,
because they would not acknowledge the pope to be the supreme
head of the church.
On this Bonner sternly demanded, Avhat he had written against the
church of Rome?
Mr. Tims pertinently answered, " My lord, the late bishop of "Win-
chester v.rote a very learned treatise, entitled Dc vera Obedientia,
which contains many solid arguments against the papal supremacy :
to this book you wrote a preface, strongly inveighing against the
bishop of Rome, reproving his tyranny and usurpation, and showing
that his power was ill-founded, and contrary both to the will of God,
and the real interest of mankind,"
The bishop, struck with the poignancy of this reproof, evasively
told him that the bishop of Winchester w-rote a book against the su-
premacy of the pope's holiness, and he Avrote a preface to the same
book, tending to the same purpose : but that the cause of the same
arose not from their disregard to his holiness, but because it was then
deemed treason by the law of the realm to maintain the pope's au-
thority in England.
He also observed, that at such time it was dangx^rous to profess to
favour the church of Rome, and therefore fear compelled them to
comply with the prevailing opinions of the times : for if any person
had conscientiously acknowledged the pope's authority in those days,
he would have been put to death ; but that since the queen's happy
accession to the throne, they might boldly speak the dictates of their
consciences ; and farther reminded him, that as my lord of Winches-
ter was not ashamed to recant his errors at St. Paul's cross, and that
he himself had done the same, every inferior clergyman should fol-
low the example of his superiors.
Mr. Tims, still persisting in the vindication of his own conduct, and
reprehension of that of the bishop, again replied, " My lord, that
which you have written against the supremacy of the pope may be
well proved from scripture to be true ; that which you now do is con-
trary to the word of God, as I can sufficiently prove."
Bonner, after much farther conversation, proceeded according to
the form of law, causing his articles, with the respective answers to
each, to be publicly read in court.
Mr. Tims acknowledged only two sacraments. Baptism and the
Lord's Supper; connnended the bi=:hop of Winchester's book De
vera Obedientia, and the bishop of London's preface to the same.
He declared that the mass was blasphemy of Christ's passion and
death ; that Christ is not corporeally but spiritually present in the
.>5acrament, and that as they used it, it was an abominable idol.
Bonner exhorted him to revoke his errors and heresies, conform to
the church of Rome, and not abide strenuously by the literal sense
of the scripture, but use tlie interpretation of the fathers.
Our martvr franklv declared lie would not conform thereunto, not-
404 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
withstanding the execrations denounced against him by the church oi
Rome, and demanded of the bishop what he had to support the doo-
trine of the real presence of Christ in the sacrament of the altar, but
the bare letter of scripture ?
On the bishop's replying, the authority of the holy catholic church,
Tims informed him that he had the popish church, for which he was
perjured and forsworn, declaring that the see of Rome was the see of
antichrist, and, therefore, he would never consent to yield obedience
to the same.
The bishop, finding Mr. Tims so inflexible in his adherence to the
faith he professed, that every attempt to draw him from it was vain
and fruitless, read his definitive sentence, and he was delivered over
to the secular power.
Bonner then used the same measures with Drake, as he had done
with Tims ; but Drake frankly declared, that he denied the church of
Rome, with all the works thereof, even as he denied the devil, and all
his works.
The bishop, perceiving all his exhortations fruitless, pronounced
sentence of condemnation, and he was immediately delivered into the
custody of the sheriffs.
After this, Thomas and Richard Spurg, George Ambrose, and John
Cavill, were severally asked if they would forsake their heresies, and
return to the catholic church. They all refused consenting to the
church of Rome ; but said they were willing to adhere to the true
catholic church, and continue in the same.
Bonner then read their several definitive sentences, after which he
committed them to the custody of the sheriffs of London, by whom
they were conducted to Newgate.
On the 14th of April, 1556, the day appointed for their execution,
they were all led to Smithfield, where they were all chained to the
same stake, and burnt in one fire, patiently submitting themselves to
the flames, and resigning their souls into the hands of that glorious
Redeemer, for whose sake they delivered their bodies to be burned.
John Fortune.
About the same time that the preceding suffered, there was one
John Fortune, a blacksmith, of the parish of Mendlcsham, in Suffolk,
who was several times examined by the bishop of Norwich, and others,
respecting the mass, the sacrament of the altar, and other points of
the Romish religion, which he refuted by texts quoted from scripture.
His sentence of condemnation is recorded in the bishop's register ;
but whether it was ever carried into execution we are not informed ;
if not burnt, however, he most probably died in prison, as the unre
enting persecutors very seldom allowed their victims to escape.
The following account of his examinations was written by himself
His first Examination before Br. Parker and Mr. Foster.
First, Dr. Parker asked me how 1 believed in the catholic faith.
And I asked him which faith he meant ; whether the faith that Ste-
phen had, or the faith of them that put Stephen to death.
Dr. Parker, being moved, said, what an impudent fellow this is! You
shall soon see anon, he will deny the blessed sacrament of the altar.
JOHN FORTUNE. 405
Then said Mr. Foster, I know you well enough. You are a busy
merchant. How sayest thou by the blessed mass?
And I stood still, and made no answer.
Then said Foster, why speakest thou not, and makest the' gentle-
man an answer ?
And I said, silence is a good answer to a foolish question.
Then said Dr. Parker, I am sure he will deny the blessed sacra-
ment of the altar.
And I answered, I knew none such, but only the sacrament of the
body and blood of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.
Then said Dr. Parker, you deny the order of the seven sacraments.
And why dost not thou believe in the sacrament of the altar?
And I answered, because it is not written in God's book.
Then said he, you will not believe unwritten verities?
And I answered, I will believe those unwritten verities that agree
with the written verities, to be true ; but those unwritten verities that
are of your own making, and inventions of your own brain, I do not
believe.
Well, said Mr. Foster, you shall be whipped and burned for this gear.
Then answered I, if you knew how these words do rejoice my
heart, you would not have spoken them.
Then said Mr. Foster, away, thou fool, dost thou rejoice in whip-
ping?
Yes, answered I, for it is written in the scriptures, and Christ saith,
thou shalt be whipped for my name's sake ; and since the sword of
tyranny came into your hands, I heard of none that were whipped.
Happy were I, if I were the first to suffer this persecution.
Away with him then, said he, for he is ten times worse than Samuel ;
and so I was carried to prison again.
His second Examination before the Bishop of Norwich.
When I came before the bishop, he asked me if I did not believe
in the catholic church.
I answered, I believe that church whereof Christ is the head.
Then said the bishop, dost thou not believe that the pope is supreme
head of the church ?
And I answered, no ; Christ is the head of the true church.
Bishop. So do I believe also ; but the pope is God's vicar upon
earth, and the head of the church, and I believe that he hath power to
forgive sins also.
Fortune. The pope is but a man, and the prophet David saith,
" That no man can deliver his brother, nor make agreement unto
God for him ;" for it cost more to redeem their souls, so that he must
let that alone for ever.
And the bishop again fetching about a great circumstance, said,
like as the bell-weather weareth the bell, and is the head of the
flock of the sheep, so is the pope our head. And as the hives of bees
have a master-bee that bringeth the bees to the hive again, so doth
our head bring us home again to our true church.
Then I asked him, whether the pope were a spiritual man. And
he said, yea. And I said again^ they are spiteful men ; for in seven-
teen months there were three popes, and one poisoned another fo-
that presumptuous seat of antichrist.
406 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Bishop, It IS maliciously spoken, for thou must obey the pOAvei
and not the man. Well, what say est thou to the ceremonies of the
church ?
Andl answered, "All things that are not planted by my heavenly
Father, shall be plucked up by the roots," saith our Saviour: for they
are not from the beginning, neither shall they continue to the end.
Bishop. They are good and godly, and necessary to be used
Fortune. St. Paul called them weak and beggarly.
Bishop. No; that is a lie.
I, hearing that, said, that St. Paul writeth thus in the fourth chap-
ter to the Galatians, " You foolish Galatians, (saith he,) who hath be-
witched you, that j-e seek to be in bondage to these v/eak and beg-
garly ceremonies ?" Now which of you doth lie, you, or St. Paul ?
And also it is said, That works instituted, and enjoined without the
commandment of God, pertain not to the worship of God, according
to the text, Matt. xv. " In vain do men worship me with men's tra-
ditions and commandments." And St. Paul, "Wherefore do ye carry
us away from the grace of Christ to another kind of doctrine V And
Christ openly rebuked the scribes, lawyers, pharisees, doctors, priests,
bishops, and other hypocrites, for making God's commandments of
none effect, to support their own tradition.
Bishop. Thou liest, there is not such a word in all the scriptures,
thou impudent heretic* Thou art worse than all the other heretics;
for Hooper and Bradford allow them to be good, and thou dost not.
Away with him.
His third examination.
The next day I was brought before the said bishop again, where
he preached a sermon upon the sixth chapter of St. John's Gospel,
from Christ's words, " I am the bread that came down from heaven,"
&c. And thereupon had a great bibble babble to no purpose. So
in the end I was called before him, and he said to me ;
Bishop. How believest thou in the sacrament of the altar? Dost
thou not believe, that after the consecration, there is the real sub-
stance of the body of Christ?
Fortune. That is the greatest plague that ever came into England.
Bishop. Why so ?
Fortune. If I were a bishop, an ^. you a poor man, as I am, I would
be ashamed to ask such a question : for a bishop should be apt to
teach, and not to learn.
Bishop. I am appointed by the law to leach ; you are not.
Fortune. Your law breaketh out very well ; for you have burned
up the true bishops and preachers, and maintained liars in their stead.
Bishop. Now you may understand that he is a traitor, for he de-
nieth the higher powers.
Fortune. I am no traitor : for St. Paul saith, "All souls must obey
the higher powers," and I resist not the higher powers concerning
my body, but I must resist your evil doctrine wherewith you would
infect my soul.
♦ If this worthy prelate had been as conversant with the scriptures as he ought to
have been, he would have known that " a bishop must be blameless, not self willed, not
aoon angry ;" and he would have found that he has other and very different Uutiei^
than persecuting and reviling the advocates of the goapel.
JOHN FORTUNE. 407
Then said a doctor, My Lord, you do not well : let him answer
shortly to his articles.
Bishop. How sayest thou? make an answer quickly to these
articles.
Fortune. St. Paul saith, Heb. x., " Christ did one sacrifice once
for all, and sat him down at tlie right hand of liis Father," triumph-
ing over hell and death, making intercession for sins.
Bishop. I ask thee no such question, but make answer to this
article.
Fortune. If it be not God before the consecration, it is not God
after ; for God is without beginning and without ending.
Bishop. Lo, what a stiff heretic this is ! He hath denied all to-
gether ! How sayest thou? Is it idolatry to Avorship the blessed
sacrament or no ?
Fortune. God is a Spirit, and will be worshipped in spirit and
truth.
Bishop. I ask thee no such question : answer me directly?
Fortune. I answer, that this is the God Mauzzim, that robbeth
God of his honour.
Bishop. It is a pity that the ground beareth thee, or that thou hast
a tongue to speak.
Then said the scribe, Here are a great many articles.
Then said the bishop, Away with him ? for he hath spoken too
much.
His last examination.
When I came to mine examination again, the bishop asked me if
I would stand upon mine answers that I made before ; and I said,
Yea ; for I had spoken nothing but the truth. And after tliat he
made a great circumstance upon the sacrament.
Then I desired him to stand to the text, and he read the gospel on
Corpus Christi day, which said, " I am the bread which came down
from heaven ;" believest thou not this ? And I said. Yea, truly
And he said, why dost thou deny the sacrament?
Because your doctrine is false, said I.
Then said he, How can that be false wliich is spoken in the
scripture.
And I answered, Christ said, " I am the bread ;" and you say the
bread is he. Therefore your doctrine is false.
And he said. Dost thou not believe that the bread is he ? • I an-
swered. No.
Bishop. I will bring thee to it by the scriptures.
Fortune. Hold that fast, my lord ; for that is the best argument
that you have had yet.
Bishop. Thou shalt be burned like a heretic.
Fortune. Who shall give judgment upon me?
Bishop. I will judge a hundred such as thou art, and never be
thriven upon it.
Fortune. Is there not law for the spirituality, as well as for the
temporality.
And Sir Clement Higham said. Yes ; what meanest thou by that ?
Fortune. When a man is perjured by the law, he is cast over the
408 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
bar, and sitteth no more in judgment. And the bishop is a perjured
man, and ought not to sit in judgment.
Bishop. How provest thou that?
Fortune. Because you took an oath in King Henry's days to resisi
the pope. So both spiritual and temporal are perjured, that here can
be no true judgment.
Bishop. Thinkest thou to escape judgment by that ? No : for my
chancellor shall judge thee. He took no oath, for he was then out of
the realm.
Sir C. Higham. It is time to weed out such fellows as you are, in-
deed.
Bishop. Good fellow, why believest thou not in the sacrament of
the altar?
Fortune. Because I find it not in God's book, nor yet in the doc-
tors. If it were there, I would believe it with all my heart.
Bishop. How knowest thou it is not there?
Fortune. Because it is contrary to the second commandment; and
seeing it is not written in God's book, why do you then rob me of
my life ?
Then the bishop having no more to say, commanded the bailiff to
take him away ; and after this we find no further mention of him in
the register of Norwich, except that his sentence of condemnation
was drawn and registered, but wliether it was pronounced or not i.*
uncertain.
Sufferings and Death of John. Careless in the King*s Bench.
About the first of July, 1556, John Careless, of Coventry, weaver
died in the King's Bench prison : who though he were by the secret
judgment of Almighty God prevented by death, so that he came not
to the full martyrdom of his body, yet is he no less worthy to be
counted in honour and place of Christ's martyrs, than others that suf-
fered most cruel torments ; as well because he was for the same truth's
sake a long time imprisoned, as also for his willing mind and the zeal-
ous affection he had thereunto, if the Lord had so determined it, as may
well appear by his examination before Dr. Martin, of which examina-
tion we shall give some particulars, omitting those parts, in which the
scurrility of the popish priest is, as usual, much more observable than
the strength of his reasoning.
First, Dr. Martin calling John Careless to him in his chamber, de-
manded what was his name ? To whom when the other had answered,
that his name was John Careless, then began Dr. Martin to descant
at his pleasure upon that name, saying, that it would appear by his
condition, by that time he had done with him, that he would be a true
careless man indeed. And so after a deal of unnecessary talk there
spent about much needless matter, then he asked him where he was
born.
Forsooth, said Careless, at Coventry.
Martin. At Coventry? What, so far, man? How camest thou hither'
Who sent the*? to tae King's Bench prison ?
Careless. I was brought hither by a writ, I think ; what it was 1
cannot tell. I suppose master Marshal can tell you.
Marshal. In good faith I cannut tell what the matter is ; but indeed
my lord chief justice sent him from the bar.
JOHN CARELESS. 409
Martin. Well, Careless, 1 would thou shouldst play the wise man a
part. Thou art a handsome man, and it is a pity but thou shouldst do
well, and save that which God hath brought.
Careless. I thank your good mastership most heartily ; and I put
you out of doubt, that I am most sure and certain of my salvation by
Jesus Christ; so that my soul is safe already, whatsoever pains my
body sufler here for a little time.
Martin. Yea, marry, you say truth. For thou art so predestinate
to life, that thou cdnst not perish in whatsoever opinion thou dost die.
Careless. That God hath predestinated me to eternal life in Jesus
Christ, I am most certain, and even so am I sure that his Holy Spirit
(wherewith I am sealed) will preserve me from all heresies and evil
opinions, that I shall die in none at all.
Martin. Go to, let me hear thy faith in predestination. For that
shall be written also.
Careless. Your mastership shall pardon me herein. For you said
yourself ere now, that you had no commission to examine my con-
science. I will trouble myself with answering no more matters than
I needs must, until I come before them that shall have more authority
to examine me.
Martin. I tell thee then I have a commission and commandment
from the council to examine thee : for they delivered me thy articles.
Careless. Yea, I think indeed that your mastership is appointed to
examine me of my articles, which you have there in writing, and I
have told you the truth. I do confess them to be mine own fact and
deed ; but you do now examine me of predestination, whereof my ar-
ticles speak nothing at all.
Martin. I tell thee yet again, that I must also examine thee of such
things as be in controversy between thee and thy fellows in the King's
Bench, whereof predestination is a part, as thy fellow N hath
confessed, and thyself doth not deny it.
Careless. I do not deny it. But he that first told you that, might
have found himself much better occupied.
Martin. Why, what if he had not told me, thinkest thou that I
would not have known it ? Yes, or else thou shouldst have withstood
my commission. For I tell thee the truth, I may now examine thee
of the blessed sacrament, or any other thing that I like, but that I will
show thee favour, and no/be too hasty with thee at the first.
Marshal. Yea, indeed. Careless, Mr. Doctor hath a commission to
examine you or any other of your fellows.
Martin. Yea, marry, that I have, I tell thee the truth of it.
Careless. Then let your scribe set his pen to the paper, and you
?hall have it roundly, even as the truth is. I believe that Almighty
God, our most dear loving Father, of his great mercy and infinite
goodness, did elect in Christ.
Martin. Tush! what need of all that long circumstance? Write, I
believe God elected ; and make no more ado.
Careless. No, not so, Mr. Doctor ; it is a high mystery, and ought
reverently to be spoken of. And if my words may not be written as
I do utter them, I will not speak at all.
Martin. Go to, go to, write what he will. Here is more business
ihan needeth.
Careless. I believe that Almighty God, our most dear and loving
410 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Father, of his great mercy and infinite goodness (tliroi;gli Jesus
Chririt) did elect and appoint in him, before the foundation of the
earth was laid, a church or congregation, which he doth continually
guide and govern by his grace and Holy Spirit, so that not one of
them shall ever finally perish.
When this was written, Mr. Doctor took it in his hand, and read it,
saying :
Why, who will deny this ?
Careless. If your mastership do allow this, and*other learned men
when they shall see it, I have my heart's desire.
Martin. And do you hold no otherwise than is here written 1
Careless. No, verily, nor never did.
Martin. Write what he saith, otherwise he holdeth not. So that
was written.
Martin. It was told me also, that thou dost affirm, That Christ did
not die effectually for all men.
Careless. Whatsoever hath been told you, it is not much material
unto me. Let the tellers of such tales come before my face, and I
trust to make them answer. For indeed I do believe that Christ did
effectually die for all those that do effectually repent and believe, and
for no other. So that was written also.
Martin. Now, sir, what is Trew's faith of predestination ? He
believeth that all men are predestinate, and that none shall be damned
doth he not?
Careless. No, forsooth, that he doth not.
Martin. How then ?
Careless. Truly I think he doth believe as your mastership and
the rest of tlie clergy do believe of predestination, that we are elected
in respect of our good works, and so long elected as we do them, and
no longer.
Martin. Write what he saith. That his fellow Trew believeth of
predestination as the papists do believe.
Careless. Ah, master Doctor, did I so term you? Seeing that
this my confession shall come before the council, I pray you place
my terms as reverently as I speak them.
Martin. Well, well, write that Trew is of the same faith as the
catholics be.
Careless. I did not so call you neither ; I wonder what you mean
Martin. You said the clergy, did you not?
Careless. Y^o, forsooth, did I. So then it was written " of the
lergy."
Martin. Now, sir, what say you more ?
Careless. Forsooth I have no further to say in this matter.
Martin. Well, Careless, I pray thee prove thyself a wise man, and
do not cast thy life away wilfully.
Careless. Now the Lord he knoweth, good Mr. DoctcT, I would
full gladly live, so that I might do the same with a safe conscience
And your mastership shall right well perceive that I will be no wilful
man, but in all things that I stand upon I will have sure ground.
Martin. Now the Lord knoweth, good Careless, that I would gladly
make some means to preserve thy life. But thou speake-et so much
JOHN CARELESS. 411
of the Lord, the Lord ! Wilt thou be content to go with my Lord
Fitzwater into Ireland 1 Methinks thou art a handsonjc fellow, and
would do the queen a service there. What sayest thou ?
Careless. Verily, Mr. Doctor, whether I be in Ireland, France, or
Spain, or any place else, I am j cady to do her grace the best service
that I can, with body, goods, and life, so long as it doth last.
Martin. That is honestly said ; I promise thee every man Mill not
say so. How say y ^u, Mr. Marshal? This man is meet for all man-
ner of service. Indeed thou art worthy, Careless, to have the more
favour.
Careless. Indeed, sir, I hope to be meet and ready unto all things
that pertain unto a true Christian subject to do. And if her grace or
her ofiicers under her do require of me to do any thing contrary to
Christ's religion, I am ready also to do my service in Smithfield for
not observing it, as my bedfellow and other w^orthy brethren have
done, praised be God for them.
Martin. By my troth, thou art as pleasant a fclloAv as ever I talked
with, of all the protestants, except it Avcre Tomson. I am sorry that
I must depart from thee so soon ; but I have such business now, that
I can tarry with thee no longer. Well, yet thou canst not deny, but
you are at variance among yourselves in the king's bench, and it is
so throughout all your congregation : for you will not be at church.
Careless. No, master Doctor, that is not so. There is a thousand
times more variety in opinions among your doctors, Avhich you call of
the catholic church, yea, and that in the sacrament, for which there
is so much blood shed now-a-days, I mean of your latter doctors and
new writers ; as for the old, they agree wholly wdth us.
Martin. No, Careless, this is not so ; there thou art deceived.
Careless. Verily it is so, master Doctor ; I am not deceived thereip
any thing at all, as it hath been, and is, evidently proved by such »
God hath endued with great learning.
Then he turned to the marshal, and whispered wdth him awhile.
Turning to me again, he said, Farewell, Careless ; for I can tarry
no longer with thee now, my business is such.
Careless. God be with you, my good master Doctor, the Lord
give your mastership health of body and soul.
Martin. God have mercy, good Careless, and God keep thee from
all errors, and give thee grace to do as well as I would wish myself.
Careless. I thank your good mastership : I pray God I may do
always that which is acceptable in his sight. Wherounto they all
said Amen. And so I departed with a glad heart ; God only have
the whole praise. Amen.
It appears that Careless had suffered two years imprisonment at
Coventry, which much distressed his wife and children, who depended
on him for support.
After that, being brought to London, lie was endued with such pa-
tience and constant fortitude, that he longed for nothing more earnest-
ly, than to die in the fire for the profession of his faith : but it pleasing
God to prevent him by death in the prison, he was buried under i
dunghill in the fields, by order of the persecutors.
412 BOOK OP MARTYRS.
Persecutions and sufferings of Julius Palmer, Fellow of Magdalen
College, Oxford ; John Gwin, and Thomas Askine, who suffered
Martyrdom at Newbury, in Berkshire.
Julius Palmer was the 6on of a reputable merchant, and born in the
city of Coventry. He received his first education at the free school
of that place ; after which he was sent to Oxford, where, in process ol
time, he obtained a fellowship in Magdalen college, in that university.
As he was brought up a zealous papist, he re', used to conform to the
service of the church, as practised in the time of King Edward VI. ;
for which he was expelled the college, and for some lime kept a school
in the city of Oxford.
On the accession of Queen Mary, the visiters went to Magdalen
College, to displace such as refused to be of the popish religion. Mr.
Palmer availed himself of this opportunity, and, by close application
himself, joined to the interest of his friends, was reinstated in nis fel-
lowship.
During the time of his expulsion from the college, he used fre-
quently to converse with some of his acquaintance who were protes-
tants ; and being by them advised to study the scriptures, he began
to entertain doubts concerning the truth of several Romish doctrines,
and would often ask questions on that subject.
His sincere attachment to the principles he professed, (though op-
posite in their nature at different periods,) was the cause of his expnl-
sion in the days of King Edward VI., and of his troubles in the reign
of Queen Mary ; for had he been a dissembler, he might have retained
his fellowship under the reign of the former, and escaped death under
that of the latter.
When the persecution raged in the beginning of the reign of Mary,
he inquired, very particularly, into the cause of persons being appre-
hended, the nature of the articles upon which they were condemned,
the manner of their treatment, and their behaviour at the time of
their suffering. Nay, so desirous was he of knowing this, that he
sent one of his pupils from Oxford to Gloucester, to see the whole
form of Bishop Hooper's execution, and bring him a minute account
of the bloody transaction.
Before he had imbibed well grounded notions of the gospel ol
Christ, and the pure incorruptible worship of God, he was inclined to
think that very few would undergo the fiery trial for the sake of theii
profession ; but Avhen experience proved to him the cruelties which
the papists inflicted, and the protestants endured ; when he had been
present at the examination of Bishops Ridley and Latimer, and had
been an eye-witness of their faith, patience, and fortitude, even unto
death, these scenes converted him absolutely from popery ; and on
his return from the execution, he Avas heard to utter these expressions,
" O raging cruelty ! O barbarous tyranny !"
From that very day he applied himself most assiduously to learn
the truth of God's word; and to that end, borrowed Peter Martyr's
Commentary or. tl'e Corinthians, and read many other well written
treatises on rcligioK. till, at length, he became as zealous an asserter
of the protcstant caus'^;, as he before had been an obstinate opposer of it.
He now began to aVsent himself from mass, and other popish ser-
vices and ceremonies ; lut finding that his absence on these occasions
JULIUS PALMER. 413
incurred the suspicions of many, and the disapprobation of the pre-
sident of the college, to avoid expulsion, which might be attended
with danger, and to preserve his conscience inviolate, he resigned his
fellowship.
On his leaving the college, his friends obtained for him the place of
teacher to the grammar school at Reading, in Berkshire, where he
was received by those who loved the gospel of Christ, both on account
of his eminent learning, and zealous adhoence to the truth.
In process of time, some hypocritical professors of the reformed re-
ligion insinuated themselves into his confidence, with a design to learn
his religious principles. Their disingenuous stratagem succeeded to
their wishes ; for as he was a man of an open, unreserved temper, he
freely declared his sentiments, which those snakes reported to his
enemies, who thereupon caused his library to be searched for hereti-
cal books, and finding some of his writings, both in Latin and Eng-
lish, that inveighed against popish cruelty, they threatened to lay this
discovery before the queen's commissioners, unless he would quietly
resign his school to a friend of theirs, and depart.
Mr. Palmer, fearful of death, complied with their unjust proposal,
and departed from Reading, leaving behind him all his goods, with
the salary that was due to him.
Being thus destitute of a livelihood, he went to Evesham, in Wor-
cestershire, where his mother lived, in order to obtain from her a
legacy, which his father had bequeathed him four years before.
As soon as he saw his mother, he implored her blessing, on his
bended knees ; but she having been informed, by his brother, of the
cause of his resignation, and the business of his visit, hastily exclaim-
ed, " Thou shalt have Christ's curse and mine, whithersoever thou
goest."
Julius, at first, was amazed at so unexpected and heavy a curse
from his own mother ; but after he had recollected himself a little, he
said, " O mother, your own curse you may give me, which God
knoweth I never deserved ; but God's curse you cannot give me, for
he hath already blessed me."
His bigoted mother said, " Thou wentest from God's blessing when
thou wast banished for a heretic from thy fellowship at Oxford, and
for the like knavery hast thou been expelled from Reading too."
" Alas ! mother," returned Julius, " my case has been misrepre-
sented to you, for I was not expelled from the college at Oxford, but
freely I resigned my fellowship there. Heretic I am none, for I op-
posenot the true doctrine of Christ, but defend it to myutmost power."
His mother then vehemently declared, that he believed not as his
father and forefathers had done, but according to the new doctrine
taught and set forth in the days of King Edward VI., which was dam-
nable heresy.
In answer to this he confessed, that he believed the doctrine pub-
licly set forth in the reign of King Edward VI. He also affirmed it
to be the truth, and that, instead of being new, it was as old as Christ
and his apostles.
His mother, incensed at this frank declaration of his principles,
ordered him to depart the house, nor ever more esteem her as his
mother, informing him, at the same time, that he had no property
414 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Uifire, eilher in money or goods, as his father beqv;eathed nothing to
heretics.
Our martyr, as became a true follower of the blessed Jesus, when
he vvas reviled, reviled not again, but committed his cause to Him
who j;!i'.gelh righteously. On leaving his bigoted mother, he thus
addressed her : " Mother, you have cursed me, I beseech God to
bless you, and prosper your undertakings as long as you live."
This pathetic address, attended with flowing tears, in some degree
moved her compassion ; and on his leaving the room, she threw a
piece of gold after him, saying, " Keep that to make thee a true
man."
Mr. Palmer, being thus repulsed by his mother, on whom he relied
as his only friend, as well as disregarded by his brother, was destitute
of all help, and knew not what steps to take in order to obtain sub-
sistence.
At length, he thought of returning privately to Magdalen college
depending on the confidence of a few friends he had in that house.
He accordingly went thither, and, through the interest of Mr. Allen
Cope, a fellow of the same, he obtained a recommendation to a school
in Gloucestershire.
He had not proceeded far on his journey to that place before he
altered his resolution, and determined to go privately to Reading to
try if he could obtain the salary due to him, and at the same time dis-
pose of the goods he had left there.
No sooner had he arrived at Reading than his old enemies became
acquainted with it, and consulted in what manner they should proceed
against him.
In a short time it was concluded among them, that one Mr. Hamp-
ton who had formerly professed himself a prolestant, (but who was,
in reality, a time-server,) should visit him, under colour of friendship,
to learn the cause of his return.
Hampton traitorously went, when Palmer, Avith his usual sincerity
and openness of soul, disclosed his whole design, which the other
immediately related to the confederates, who caused him to be ap-
prehended that very night, by the officers appointed for that purpose.
Mr. Palmer was then carried to prison, where he remained ten
days in custody of an unmerciful keeper ; at the expiration of which
time he was brought before the mayor of Reading, and charged with
the follov.'ing crimes :
1. Tiiat he said the queen's sword was not put into her hand to
execute tyranny, and to kill and murder the true servants of God.
2. That her sword was too blunt towards the papists, but too sharp
towards the true Christians.
3. That certain servants of Sir Francis Knolles, and others, rescrt-
'.ng to his lectures, fell out among them, and had almost committed
murder ; therefore he was a sower of sedition, and a procurer of un-
lawful assemblies.
4. That his landlady had writen a letter to him, which he had in-
tercepted, wherein she requested him to return to Reading, and sent
her commendations by the token, that the knife lay hid under the
beam, whereby they inferred that she had conspired with him against
her husband.
5. That they once found him alone with his said landlady, by the
JULIUS PALMER 415
fireside, the door being shut, thereby suspecting him of inconlinency
with her.
Three men, who Avere suborned for the purpose by one of the con-
federates, swore these things against him before the mayor, who
thereupon sent him to the cage, to be an open spectacle of contempt
to the people.
The same villian also spread a report, that he was thus punished
for the most enormous crimes and misdemeanours, which had been
fully proved against him.
After he had been thus unjustly exposed to public shame, the
mayor sent for him to answer for himself, concerning what was laid
to his charge.
He fully overthrew all the evidence, by proving the letter said to
have been written to him by his landlady, to be of their own forging;,
and in the most incontestible manner acquitted himself of all the other
crimes laid to his charge. The mayor was confounded, to think he
should have given such credit to his persecutor ; and though he di..
not choose to discharge him immediately, yet he thought of doing
it as soon as a convenient opportunity should offer.
While Mr. Palmer v/as in prison, he Avas visited by one John Gal-
lant, a true professor of the gospel, who said to him, " O Palmer !
thou hast deceived many men's expectations, for we hear that yoi:
suffer not for righteousness sake, but for thy own demerits."
Palmer replied, " O brother Gallant, these be the old practices of
that fanatical brood : but be you well assured, and Go(l be praised
for it, I have so purged myself and detected their falsehood, that from
henceforth I shall be no more molested therewith."
WhCii his enemies found they had miscarried in their plot against
him, they determined to accuse him of heresy. This was accordingly
done, in consequence of which he was taken before the mayor, and
Mr. Bird, the bishop of Salisbury's official, in order to give an ac-
count of his faith, and to answer to such information as might be laid
against him.
In the course of his examination they gathered from him sufficient
grounds to proceed against him. Articles were accordingly drawn
up, and sent to Dr. Jeffrey at Newbery, who was to hold his visitation
there on the Thursday following.
The next day Palmer was conducted to Newbery, together with
one Thomas Askine, who had been for some time imprisoned on ac-
count of his religion. Immediately on their arrival they were com-
mitted to the Blind-house prison, where they found one John Gwin,
who was confined there for professing the truth of the gospel.
On Tuesday, July 10, 1550, a place being prepared in the parish
church of Newbery to hold the consistory court. Dr. Jeffrey, repre-
sentative of the bishop of Sarum, Sir Richard Abridge, Jolm Win-
chom, Esq. and the minister of Inglefield, repaired thitlier, as com-
missioners appointed for the purpose.
After the prisoners were produced, the commission read, and other
things done according to the usual form, Dr. Jeffrey, in the presence
of several hundred spectators, called to Palmer, and asked if he was
the writer of a two-penny pamphlet that had been lately published ?
Having some altercation about this affair, in which Palmer answered
416 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
in his own behalf with great force and propriety, the doctor, rising
from his seat, said to him, " Mr. Palmer, we have received certain
Avritings and articles against you from the right worshipful the
mayor of Reading, and other justices, whereby we understand,
that, being brought before them, you were convicted of certain
heresies.
" 1. That you deny the supremacy of the pope's holiness.
" 2. That you affirm there are but two sacraments.
" 3. You say that the priest showeth up an idol at mass, and there
fore you went to no mass since your first coming to Reading.
" 4. You hold there is no purgatory.
" 5. You are charged with sowing sedition, and seeking to divide
the unity of the queen's subjects."
Several books and pamphlets were then produced, and Palmer be-
ing asked if he was the author of them, replied in the affirmative, de-
claring, at the same time, that they contained nothing but what was
founded on the word of God.
Jeffrey then reviled him, declaring that such opinions were dictated
by no good spirit, and that he was very wicked in slandering the
dead, and railing at a Catholic and learned man living.
Mr. Palmer replied, " If it be a slander, he slandered himself, for I
do but report his own writings, and expose absurdities therein con-
tained : and I esteem it not railing to inveigh against Annas and Cai-
aphas, being dead."
The doctor, incensed at this reply, assured him, that he would
take such measures as should compel him to recant his damnable
errors and heresies ; but Palmer told him, that although of himself he
could do nothing, yet if he, and all his enemies, both bodily and
ghostly, should exert their efforts, they would not be able to effect
what they desired, neither could they prevail against the mighty
powers of divine grace, by which he understood the truth, and was
determined to speak it boldly.
After much farther discourse, the minister of Inglefield pointed
to the pix over the altar, saying to Palmer, " What seest thou
there ?" To which he replied, " A canopy of silk embroidered with
gold."
" But what is within ?" demanded the priest. " A piece of bread
in a cloth," replied Palmer.
The priest then upbraided him as a vile heretic, and asked him if
he did not believe that those who receive the sacrament of the altar
do truly eat Christ's natural body ?
He answered, "If the sacrament of the Lord's Supper be adminis-
tered as Christ did ordain it, the faithful receivers do, indeed, spiritu-
ally and truly eat and drink in it Christ's body and blood."
On being asked if he meant with the holy mother-church, really,
carnally, and substantially, he declared, " he could not believe so ab-
surd and monstrous a doctrine."
After this the court was adjourned, when one of the justices took
Palmer aside, and in the presence of several persons exhorted him to
"evoke his opinions, and thereby preserve his life ; promising him, at
the same time, if he would conform to the church, to take him into
his family as his chaplain, and give him a handsome salary, or, if he
JULIUS PALMER, AND OTHERS. 417
chose not to resume the clerical function, to procure him an advanta-
geous farm.
Mr. Palmer heartily thanked him for his kind offer, but assured him
that he had already renounced his living in two places, for the sake
of Christ and his gospel, and was ready to yield up his life in de-
fence of the same, if God, in his providence, should think fit to call
him to it.
When the justice found he could by no means bring him to a recan-
tation, he said, " Well, Palmer, I perceive that one of us two must be
damned, for we are of two faiths, and there is but one faith that leads
to life and salvation."
Palmer observed, that it was possible they might both be saved,
for that as it had pleased a merciful God to call him at the third hour
of the day, that is, in the prime of life, at the age of twenty-four years,
so he trusted that in his infinite goodness he would graciously call the
other at the eleventh hour of his old age, and give him an eternal in-
heritance among the saints in light.
After much conversation had passed, and many efforts were tried
in vain. Palmer was remanded back to prison ; but the other men,
John Gwin, and Thomas Askine, were brought into the consistory
court, received their definitive sentence, and were delivered over to
the secular power to be burned as heretics.
Though the particular examinations and answers of these two
martyrs are not recorded, there is no doubt but they were of the same
faith, and equally steadfast in it, as their fellow sufferer. Palmer ;
but they were very illiterate, from whence it is supposed their
examination was short, they not being capable of making any de-
fence.
The next morning the commissioners required Julius Palmer to
subscribe to certain articles which they had gathered from his an-
swers, but which they described by those odious epithets and terms,
horrid, heretical, damnable, and execrable ; this, when he had read,
he refused to subscribe, affirming, that the doctrine which he held
and professed was not such, but agreeable to, and founded on the
word of God.
Jeffrey being now greatly incensed, Palmer consented to subscribe,
provided they would strike out those odious epithets ; upon which
they gave him a pen, and bid him do as he pleased, when he made
such alterations as he thought proper, and then subscribed.
Having thus set his hand to the articles which they had drawn up,
they asked him if he would recant ? but he peremptorily refusing, they
pronounced sentence against him, and he was delivered over to the
secular power.
While he was in prison, he gave great comfort to his two fellow-
sufferers, and strongly exhorted them to hold fast to the faith they
had professed. On the day of their execution, about an hour before
they were led to the stake, he addressed them in words to the follow-
ing effect :
" Brethren, be of good cheer in the Lord, and faint not ; rcmemfoer
the words of our Saviour Christ, who saith, ' Happy are ye, when
men shall revile and persecute you for my sake : rejoice and be ex-
ceeding glad, for great is your reward in heaven.' Fear not them
that kill the body. ])ut are not able to hurt the soul : God is faithful.
27
418 BOOK OP MARTYRS
and will not suffer us to be tempted above what we aic able to bear
We shall end our lives in the fire, but we shall exchange them for a
belter life : yea, for coals we shall receive pearls ; for God's spirit
certifielh our spirit, that he hath prepared for us blissful mansions in
heaven for his sake, who suffered for us."
These words not only strengthened and confirmed the resolu
tion of his two weak brethren, but drew tears from many of the
multitude.
When they were brought by the high sheriff and constables of the
town to the sand-pits, (the place appointed for their execution,) they
fell on" the ground, and Palmer, with an audible voice, repeated the
thirty-first psalm ; but the other two made their prayers secretly to
Almighty God.
When Palmer arose from prayer, there came behind him two popish
priests, exhorting him to recant, and save his soul.
Our martyr exclaimed, " Away, away, and tempt me no longer !
away ! I say, from me, all ye that work iniquity, for the Lord hath
heard the voice of my tears."
When they were chained to the stake. Palmer thus addressed the
spectators : " Good people, pray for us, that we persevere to the
end, and for Christ's sake beware of popish teachers, for they de-
ceive you."
As he spoke this, one of the attendants threw a fagot at him, which
striking him on the face, caused the blood to gush out from several
places ; but this cruel behaviour escaped not the notice or resent-
ment of the sheriff, who not only upbraided his cruelty, but manfully
retaliated the injury on the man who had thus insulted suffering in-
nocence.
When the fire was kindled, and began to reach their bodies, they
lifted up their hands towards heaven, and cheerfully, as though they
felt not much pain, said, " Lord Jesu, strengthen us ! Lord Jesu,
assist us ! Lord Jesu, receive our souls !" and thus they continued
without any struggling, holding up their hands, and sometimes beating
upon their breasts, and calling on the name of Jesus, till they ended
their mortal lives, and exchanged a scene of exquisite pain, for an
everlasting habitation in those heavenly mansions, where their Al
mighty Father reigns, encompassed by ten thousand times ten thou
sand blissful spirits.
Martyrdom, of three Women and an Infant, in Guernsey
Of all the singular and tragical histories in this book, nothino- can
be more barbarous, if any thing can equal, the inhumanity of this exe-
cution upon three women and an infant, whose names were Catherine
Cawches, the mother ; Guillemins Gilbert, and Perotine Massey, her
daughters ; and an infant, the son of Perotine.
These innocent victims of popish cruelty owed their sufferings to
the following circumstances. A woman, named Gosset, having stolen
a cup, took it to Mrs. Massey, who lived with her mother and sister,
and requested of her to lend her six-pence upon it. The latter, sus-
pecting the theft, at first refused ; but thinking she would return it to
the owner, whom she knew, in order to prevent Gosset's taking it
elsewhere, gave her the six-pence, and made known the affair to the
owner, who charging the offender with her crime, she confessed, and
THREE WOMEN AND AN INFANT. 419
the cup was, accordingly, restored. On a pretended suspicion, how-
ever, that Mrs. Massey, with her mother and sister, was a sharer in
the crime, they were accordingly imprisoned and brought to trial,
when it evidently appeared that they were perfectly innocent. It
was found, however, that they did not attend the church, and on far-
ther investigation, they were discovered to be, in the judgment of
the papists, heretics ; and tliey were, consequently, condemned to be
burnt.
After sentence was pronounced, the hapless women appealed to
the king, queen, and council, saying, " That against reason and
right they were condemned, and for that cause made their appeal ;"
their persecutors, however, refused to receive their appeal, but
delivered them to the officers for execution, according to their sen-
tence.
The day being come when these innocents should suffer, July 18,
1556, in the place where they stood to consummate their martyrdom
were three stakes set up. To the middle post the mother was bound,
the eldest daughter on the right hand, and the youngest on the left.
They were first strangled, but the rope breaking before they were
dead, they fell into the fire. Perotine, w^ho was then in a very ad-
vanced stage of pregnancy, fell on her side, and her womb bursting
•isunder, by the vehemency of ihe flame, the infant, being a male, fell
into the fire, and being immediately taken up by one W. House, was
aid upon the grass.
Then was the child carried to the provost, and from him to the
bailiff, who gave order that it should be carried back again and cast
into the fire. And so the infant, baptized in his own blood, to fill up
the number of God's innocent saints, was both born and died a martyr,
leaving behind a spectacle wherein the whole world may see the Hero-
dian cruelty of this graceless generation of popish tormentors, to their
perpetual shame and infamy.
" Now," says Mr. Fox, " as this story, perhaps for the horrible
strangeness of the fact, will be hardly believed by some, but rather
thought to be forged, or else more amplified by me than truth will bear
me out, therefore, to discharge my credit herein, I will not only men-
tion that I received this story by the faithful relation both of the French
and English, of them which were present witnesses and looked on, but
also have hitherto annexed the true supplication of the said inhabit-
ants of Guernsey, and of the brother of the said two sisters, complain-
ing to Queen Elizabeth, and her commissioners, concerning the hor-
ribleness of the act."
Then follows the petition, which, after stating the cruelty of the case,
solicits the restoration of the property of the martyrs, which had been
confiscated, to him, as the rightful heir.
This being presented to the queen's commissioners, in the year
1562, such order therein was taken, that the matter being further ex-
amined, the dean, who had been instrumental in the tragical event,
was committed to prison and dispossessed of all his livings. So that
in conclusion, both he, and all other partakers of that most bloody and
barbarous murder, either by conscience, or for fear of the law, were
driven to acknowledge their trespass, and to submit themselves to the
queen's mercy.
420 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Three Martyrs burnt at Grindstead, in Sussex.
Near about the same time that these three women, and the infant,
were burnt at Guernsey, three other persons suffered at Grindstead, in
Sussex, two men and one woman ; the names of whom were Thomas
Dungate, John Foreman, and Mary Tree, who for righteousness' sake
gave themselves to death amidst' the torments of the fire, patiently
abiding what the furious rage of man could say or work against them ;
and so ended their lives on the 18th of July, in the year 1556
Martyrdom of Thomas Moor, at Leicester
As the bloody rage of this persecution spared neither man, woman,
nor child, lame nor blind, and as there w^as no difference either of age
or sex considered, so neither was there any condition or quality re-
spected of any person; but whosoever he were that believed not as
the papists did, concerning the pope, and the sacrament of the altar,
were he learned or unlearned, wise or simple, all went to the fire.
Thus this poor simple man named Thomas Moor, a servant in the
town of Leicester, about twenty-four years of age, for merely ex-
pressing his belief that " his Maker was in heaven, and not in the
pix," was thereupon apprehended, and brought before his ordinary,
when he was first asked, " Whether he did not believe his Maker to
be there?" pointing to the high altar. Which he denied.
" How, then," said the bishop, " dost thou believe ?"
The young man answered, " As my creed doth teach me."
Then said the bishop, " And what is yonder that thou seest above
the altar ?"
He answered, " Forsooth, I cannot tell what you would have me
to see. I see there fine clothes, with golden tassels, and other gay
matters, hanging about the pix ; what is within I cannot see."
" Why," said the bishop, " dost thou not believe Christ to be there,
flesh, blood, and bone ?"
" No, that I do not," replied Moor.
Whereupon the ordinary making short with him, read the sentence,
and so condemned this faithful servant of Christ to death ; he was
accordingly burnt, and suffered a joyful and glorious martyrdom for
the testimony of righteousness, at Leicester, about the 26th day of
June, 1556.
Examination of John Jackson, March 11, 1556.
There is so much Christian boldness and becoming spirit in the an-
swers of John Jackson, on his examination by Dr. Cook, as related
by himself, that we give them, although we have no certain account
of his ultimate fate.
'' First, when I came before him, he railed on me, and called me
heretic.
I answered, and said, I am no heretic.
Cook. Yes, thou art. For Mr. Read told me, that thou wert the
rankest heretic of all of them in the King's Bench
Jackson. I know him not.
Cook. No ? Yes, he examined thee at the King's Bench.
Jackson. He examined five others, but not me.
Cook. Then answer me ; what sayest thou to the blessed sacramen*
of the altar? Tell me.
JOHN JACKSON. 421
Jackson. It is a vague question to ask me at the first setting off.
Cook. What a heretic is this !
Jackson. It is easier to call a man heretic, than to prove him one.
Cook. What church art thou of?
Jackson. What church? I am of the same church that is built on
tlie foundation of the prophets and the apostles, Jesus Christ himself
being the head corner-stone.
Cook. Thou art a heretic.
Jackson. How can that be, seeing that I am of that church ? I
am sure that you will not say that the prophets and apostles were
heretics.
Cook. No. But what sayest thou to the blessed sacr.ment of the
altar, again ? Tell me.
Jackson. I find it not written.
Cook. No ? Keeper, away with him
Yet I tarried there long, and did talk with him ; and I said, sir, I
am content to be tractable, and obedient to the word of God.
Dr. Cook answered, and said to me, that I knew not what the word
of God meant, nor yet whether it were true or not.
Jackson. Yea, that I do.
Cook. Whereby?
Jackson. Hereby, said I. Our Saviour Christ saith, ' Search the
scriptures ; for in them you think to have eternal life. For they be
they that testify of me.'
Cook. That is a wise proof.
Jackson. Is it so? What say you then to these words, that the
prophet David said ? ' Whatsoever he be that feareth the Lord, he
will show him the way that he hath chosen ; his soul shall dwell at
ease, and his seed shall possess the land. The secrets of the Lord
are among them that fear him, and he showeth them his covenant.'
Cook. Well, you shall be rid shortly, one way or other.
Jackson. My life lieth not in men's hands, therefore no man shall
do more ur.to me than God will suffer him.
Cook. No ? Thou art a stubborn and naughty fellow.
Jackson. You cannot so judge of me, except you did see some evil
by me.
Cook. No ? Why may not I judge thee, as well as thou and thy
fellows judge us, and call us papists ?
Jackson. Why, that is no judgment ; but Christ saith, ' If you re-
fuse me, and receive not my word, you have one that judgeth you.
The word that I have spoken unto you now, shall judge you in the
last day.'
Cook. I pray thee tell me, who is the head of the congregation ?
Jackson. Christ is the head.
Cook. But who is head on earth ?
Jackson. Christ hath members here on earth.
Cook. Who are they ?
Jackson. They that are ruled by the word of God.
Cuok. You are a good fellow.
Jackson. I am that I am.
TlienDr. Cook said to my keeper, have him to prison again.
I am contented with that, said I ; and fo we departed.
I answered no further in tills matter, because I thought he sho>« ^
422 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
not have my blood in a corner. But I hope, in the living God, that
when the time shall come, before the congregation I shall shake their
building after another manner of fashion. For they build but upon
the sand, and their walls are daubed with untempered mortar, and
therefore they cannot stand long.
Therefore, good brothers and sisters, be of good cheer : for I trust
in my God, I and my other liellow-prisoners shall go joyfully before
you, praising God most heartily, that we are counted worthy to be
witnesses of his truth. I pray you accept my simple answer at this
time, committing you unto God."
Martyrdom of Joan Waste, a poor blind woman, of Derby.
This poor woman, during the time of King Edward VI., used to
frequent the church to hear divine service in the vulgar tongue, to
gether with homilies and sermons, by which means she became con
firmed and established in the principles of the reformed religion.
Having purchased a New Testament in English, she applied to an
old man, whom she paid for reading such passages as she directeo
him ; by which means she became so well versed in the holy scrip-
tures, that she could repeat entire chapters by heart, and, by citing
proper texts of scripture, would reprove the errors in religion, as well
as the vicious customs and practices that prevailed in those days.
Thus did this pious woman increase in the knowledge of God's
word, leading a life of exemplary godliness, without molestation, or
any kind of interruption, during the reign of King Edward.
But on his death, and the re-introduction of popery, on the acces-
sion of Queen Mary, because she continued steadfast in the profession
of that faith she had embraced from a knowledge of the divine word,
and refused to communicate with those Avho maintained contrary doc-
trines, she was brought before Dr. Ralph Bajm, bishop of Lichfield
and Coventry, and Dr. Draycott, the chancellor, as one suspected of
heresies, and by them committed to the prison of Derby.
She was several times privately examined by Peter Finch, the
bishop's ofllicial ; and afterwards brought to public examination before
the bishop, his chancellor, and several more of the queen's commis-
sioners; when the following articles were alleged against her:
1. That she held the sacrament of the altar to be only a memorial,
or representation of Christ's body, and material bread and wine ; and
that it ought not to be reserved from time to time, but immediately
received.
2. That she held, that in the receiving the sacrament of the altar,
she did not receive the same body, that was born of the Virgin Mary,
and suffered on the cross, for the redemption of mankind.
3. That she held, that Christ, at his last supper, did not only bless
the bread which he had then in his hands, but was blessed himself;
and that, by virtue of the words of consecration, the substance of the
bread and wine was not converted, nor turned into the substance of the
body and blood of Christ.
4. That she granted she was of the parish of AUhallows, in Derby,
and that all and singular the premises were true.
To these respective articles she answered, that she believed just as
much as the holy scriptures taught her, and according to what she
JOAN WASTE. 423
had heard preached by many pious and learned men , some of whoni
had sufiercd iniprisonmenl, and otliers death, for the same doctrine.
Among others, slic mentioned Dr. Taylor, and asked, if tliey would
follow his example in testimony of their doctrine ? which, unless they
were willing to do, she desired, for God's sake, they would not trouble
her, (being a poor, blind, and illiterate woman,) declaring, at the same
time, she was ready to yield up her life in defence of that faith she
had publicly professed.
The bishop, and his chancellor, urged many arguments in proof of
the real presence in the sacrament of the altar, demanding why Christ
was not as able to make bread his body, as to turn water into wine,
to raise Lazarus from the dead, and the like, threatening her, at the
same time, with imprisonment, torments, and death.
The poor woman, terrified at these threatenings, told the bishop,
if he would, before that company, take it upon his conscience, that the
doctrine which he would have her to believe, concerning the sacra-
ment, was true, and that he would, at the awful tribunal of God, an-
swer for her therein, (as Dr. Taylor, in several sermons, had oflered,)
she would then farther answer them.
The bishop declaring that he would, the chancellor said to him,
" My lord, you know not what you do ; you may in no case answer
for a heretic."
The bishop, struck by this interposition of the chancellor, demand-
ed of the woman, whether she would recant or not, and told her she
should answer for herself.
This honest Christian finding, at length, they desired but to preva-
ricate, told his lordship, that if he refused to take upon himself to
answer for the truth of Avhat they required her to believe, she would
answer no farther, but desired them to do their pleasure.
In consequence of this, sentence of death was pronounced against
her, and she was delivered to the sheriff, who immediately re-con-
ducted her to the prison.
On the 1st of August, 1556, the day appointed for her execution, she
was led to the stake. Immediately on her arrival at the fatal spot, she
knelt down, and in the most fervent manner, repeated several prayers,
desiring the spectators to pray also for her departing soul. Having
finished her prayers she arose, and was fastened to the stake ; when
the fagots being lighted, she called on the Lord to have mercy on her,
and continued so to do, till the flames dejirived her both of speech
and life. And thus did this poor woman quit this mortal stage, to ob-
tain a life of immortality, the sure and certain reward of all those who
suffer for the sake of the true gospel of their blessed Redeemer.
Various Martyrdoms.
On the 8th of September, 1556, one Edward Sharp was burnt ct
Bristol ; and on the 25th of the same month, a young man, by trade
a carpenter, suffered at the same place.
The day preceding the last martyrdom, John Hart, a shoemaker,
and Thomas Ravendale, a currier, v.crc burnt at Mayfield, in Sussex.
And,
On the 27th of the same month, one John Horn, and a woman,
whose name is unknown, sullered at Wooten-under-Edge, in Glouces-
tershire.
424 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
All these martyrs submitted to their fate with the most Christiar
Jorlitiide, giving glory to God for having numbered them among the
followers and advocates of his most holy gospel.
Five persons starved to death.
The last on record, who suffered for the truth of the gospel in the
bloody year 1556, were five persons, (confined, with many others, in
Canterbury castle,) who were cruelly starved to death. Their names
were as follow: — "\Villiam Foster, Alice Potkins, and John Archer,
who had been condemned ; John Clark, and Dustan Chittenden, who
nad not been condemned.
The cruel u? ige these unhappy persons suffered from their unfeel-
ing persecutors, is displayed in a letter written by one of them, and
thrown out of the window of the prison; of which the following is
an exact copy :
" Be it known unto all men that shall read, or hear read, these our
letters, that we the poor prisoners of the castle of Canterbury, for
God's truth, are kept, and lie in, cold irons, and our keepers will not
suffer any meat to be brought to us to comfort us. And if any man
do bring us any thing, as bread, butter, cheese, or any other food, the
said keeper will charge them that so bring us any thing, except mo-
ney or raiment, to carry it them again ; or else, if he do receive any
food of any for us, he doth keep it for himself, and he and his sei
vants do spend it, so that we have nothing thereof; and thus the
keeper keepeth away our victuals from us; insomuch, that there aie
four of us prisoners there for God's truth famished already; and thus
it is his mind to famish us all; and we think he is appointed thereunto
by the bishops and priests, and also of the justices, so to famish us ;
and not only us of the said castle, but also all other prisoners, in other
prisons, for the like cause to be also famished ; notwithstanding, we
write not these our letters, to that intent we might not afford to be
famished for the Lord Jesus' sake, but for this cause and intent, that
they, having no law to famish us in prison, should not do it privily,
but that the murderers' hearts should be openly known to all the world,
that all men may know of what church they are, and who is their
father. — Out of the castle of Canterbury."
Among the others confined with these five were ten men, who, hav-
ing been examined by Dr. Thornton, suffragan of Dover, and Nicho-
las Harpsfield, archdeacon of Canterbury, were sentenced to be burnt.
They had been confined a considerable time, but their sentence was,
at length, put into execution, and they were the first who opened the
bloody transactions of the year 1557. Their names were as follow :
Stephen Kemp, of Norgate ; William Waterer, of Beddingden ; W.
Prowting, of Thornham ; W. Lowick. of Cranbroke : Thomas Hud-
son, of Salenge : William Hay, of Hithe ; Thomas Stephens, of
Beddingden ; John Philpot, Nicholas Final, and Matthew Bradbridge,
all of Tenterden.
The six first were burnt at Canterbury on the 15th of January,
1557 ; Stephens and Philpot suffered the next day at Wye ; and Final
and Bradbridge the day after, at Ashford.
They all bore their sufferings with Christian fortitude, rejoicing
that their troubles were drawing to an end, and that they should leave
this world, for that where the weary are at rest.
FURTHER PERSECDTIONS. ^zo
Further Persecutions.
Notwithstanding the numerous sacrifices that had been made in
various parts of the kingdom, since the accession of Queen Mary, in
order to gratify the barbarous bigotry of that infuriated princess, yet
they were far from being at an end. Naturally disposed to tyranny,
and encouraged in her blood-thirsty principles by that monster in
human form, Bonner, bishoj) of London, she determined to compel all
her subjects, who difTered from herself in religious sentiments, either
to submit to her maxims, or fall victims to her insatiable vengeance.
To facilitate this horrid intention, in the beginning of February,
1557, she issued the following proclamation, which was, in a great
measure, promoted by Bishop Bonner, whose diabolical soul, in con-
junction with hers, thirsted after the blood of those who worshipped
God in purity of heart.
" Philip and Mary, by the grace of God, king and queen of Eng-
land, &c. To the right reverend father in God, our right trusty and
well beloved counsellor Thomas, Bishop of Ely, and to our right trusty
and well beloved William Windsore, knight, Lord Windsore ; Ed-
ward North, knight, Lord North; and to our trusty and well beloved
counsellor, J. Bourn, knight, one of our chief secretaries; J. Mor-
daunt, knight; Francis Englefield, knight, master of our wards and
liveries ; Edward Walgrave, knight, master of our great wardrobe ,
Nicholas Hare, knight, master of the rolls ; Thomas Pope, knight;
Roger Cholmley, knight; Richard Rede, knight; Rowland Hill, knight;
William Rastal, seijeant at law ; Henry Cole, clerk, dean of Paul's ;
William Roper, and Ralph Cholmley, esquires; William Cook, Tho-
mas Martin, John Story, and John Vaughan, doctors of the law,
greeting :
" Forasmuch as divers devilish and slanderous persons have not
only invented, bruited, and set forth divers false rumours, tales, and
seditious slanders against us, but also have sown divers heresies, and
heretical opinions, and set forth divers seditious books within this our
realm of Enorland, meaning thereby to stir up division, strife, conten-
tion, and sedition, not only amongst our loving subjects, but also be-
twixt us and our said subjects, with divers other outrageous misde-
meanours, enormities, contempts, and offences, daily committed and
done, to the disquieting of us and our people ; we, minding the due*
punishment of such ofl'enders, and the repressing of such like ofl'ences,
enormities, and misbehaviours from henceforth, having special trust
and confidence in your fidelities, wisdoms, and discretions, have au-
thorized, appointed, and assigned you to be our commissioners ; and
by these presents do give full power and authority unto you, and three
of you, to inquire, as well by the oaths of twelve good and lawful
men, as by witnesses, and all other means and politic ways you can
devise, of all and singular heretical opinions, lollardies, heretical and
seditious books, concealments, contempts, conspiracies, and all false
rumours, tales, seditious and slanderous words or sayings, raised,
published, bruited, invented, or set forth against us, or either of us
or against the quiet governance and rule of our people and subjects,
by books, lies, tales, or otherwise, in any county, key, bowing, or
other place or places, within this our realm of England, or elsewhere,
in anv place, or places, beyond the seas, and of the bringers in.
426 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
utierers, buyers, sellers, readers, keepers, or conveyers of any yiich
letter, book, rumour, and tale ; and of all and every their coadjutors,
counsellors, comforters, procurers, abettors, and maintainors, giving
unto you, and three of you, full power and authority, by virtue here-
of, to search out, and take into your hands and possessions, all man-
ner of heretical and seditious books, letters, and writings, whereso-
ever they, or any of them, shall be found, as well in printers" houses
and shops as elsewhere, willing you, and every of you, to search for
the same in all places, according to your discretions.
" And also to inquire, hear, and determine, all and singular enor-
mities, disturbances, misbehaviours, and negligences committed in
any church, chapel, or other hallowed place within this realm ; and
also for and concerning the taking away, or withholding any lands,
tenements, goods, ornaments, stocks of money, or other things be-
longing to every of the same churches and chapels, and all accounts
and reckonings concerning the same.
" And also to inquire and search out all such persons as obstinately
do refuse to receive the blessed sacrament of the altar, to hear mass,
or come to their parish churches, or other convenient places ap-
pointed for divine service ; and all such as refuse to go on proces-
sion, to take holy bread, or holy water, or otherwise do misuse them-
selves in any church, or other hallowed places, Avheresoever any of
the same otfences have been, or hereafter shall be committed, within
this our said realm,
" Nevertheless, our will and pleasure is, that when, and as often as
any person or persons, hereafter being called or convened before
you, do obstinately persist, or stand in any manner of heresy, or he-
retical opinion, that then ye, or three of you, do immediately take
order, that the same person, or persons, so standing, or persisting, be
delivered and committed to his ordinary, there to be used according
to the spiritual and ecclesiastical laws.
" And also we give unto you, or three of you, full power and au-
thority, to inquire and search out all vagabonds, and masterless men,
barretours, quarreliers, and suspected persons, abiding within our city
of London, and tea miles compass of the same, and all assaults and
affrays done and committed within the same city and compass.
" And further, to search out all wastes, decays, and ruins of
churches, chancels, chapels, parsonages, and vicarges, in the diocese
of the same, being within this realm, giving you, and every of you, full
power and authority, by virtue hereof, to hear and determine the
same, and all other offences and matters above specified and rehear-
sed, according to your wisdoms, consciences, and discretions, willing
and commanding you, or three of you, from time lo time, to use and
devise all such ways and means, for the trial and searching out of the
premises, as by you, or three of you, shall be thought most expedient
and necessary : and upon inquiry and d*e proof had, known, per-
ceived, and tried out, by the confession of the parties, or by sufficient
witnesses before you, or three of you, concerning the premises, or
any part thereof, or by any other ways or means requisite, to give
and award such punishment to the offenders, by fine, imprisonment,
or otherwise ; and to take such order for redress and reformation of
ihe premises, as to your wisdoms, or three of you, shall be thought
meet and convenient.
FURTHER PERSECUTIONS. 427
" Further willing and commanding you, and any three of you, in
case you shall find any person, or persons, obstinate or disobedient,
either in thrir appeai-ance before you, or three of you, at your calling
or assignment, or else in not accomplishing, or not obeying your de-
crees, orders, and commandments, in any thing or things, touching
the premises, or any part thereof, to commit the same person, or per-
sons, so oflending, to ward, there to remain, till by you, or three of
you, he be discharged or delivered," &c.
Account of twenty-two persons apprehended at Colchester, and brought
to London for examination, by Bonner.
The proclamation which we have given above, was issued on the
8tli of February, 1557, and gave the new inquisition an opportunity
of extending their horrid ravages ; so that persecution universally
prevailed, and most of the gaols in the kingdom were crowded with
prisoners, for the true faith.
The rage of persecution was particularly prevalent in and about
the town of Colchester, insomuch that twenty-three persons were ap-
prehended together, of which number one only escaped ; the others
being sent up to London, in order to abide by the award of the
bloody tribunal. These poor people consisted of fourteen men and
eight women, Avho were fastened together, with a chain placed be-
tween them, each person being at the same time tied separately with
a cord round the arm. On their entrance into the city they were
pinioned, and in that manner conducted to Newgate.
At length they were brought before Bishop Bonner, who examined
them separately with respect to their faith ; but he did not choose to
proceed against them, till he had sent the following letter to Cardinal
Pole:
" May it please your grace, with my most humble obedience, re\Q-
rence, and duty, to understand, that going to London upon Thursda}'-
last, and thinking to be troubled with Mr. German's matter only, and
such other common matters as are accustomed, enough to weary a
right strong body, I had the day following, to comfort my stomach
withal, letters from Colchester, that either that day, or the day fol-
lowing, I should have sent thence twenty-two heretics, indicted before
the commissioners ; and indeed so I had, and compelled to bear their
charges, as I did of the others, a sum of money that I thought full
evil bestowed. And these heretics, notwithstanding they had honest
catholic keepers to conduct and bring them up to me, and in all the
way from Colchester to Stratford Bow, did go quietly and obediently,
yet coming to Stratford they began to take heart of grace, and to do
as they pleased themselves, for they began to have their guard, which
generally increased till they came to Aldgate, where they were lodged,
Friday night.
" And albeit I took order, that the said heretics should be with me
early on Saturday morning, to the intent they might quietly come, and
be examined by me ; yet it was between ten and eleven of the clock
before they would come, and no way would they take but through
Cheapside, so that they were brought to my house with a thousand
persons. Which thing I took very strange, and spake Vo Sir John
Gresham, then being with me, to tell the mayor and the s.'ieriffs that
this thing was not well suffered in the city. These nai ghty here-
428 BOOK OP MART\KS.
lies, all the way they came through Cheapside, both exhorted the peo
pie to their part, and had much comfort from the piomiscuous multi
tude ; and being entered into my house, and talked withal, they
showed themselves desperate, and very obstinate ; yet I used all the
honest means I could, both of myself and others, to have won them,
causing divers learned men to talk with them ; and finding nothingr
in them but pride and wilfulness, 1 thought to have them all hither
to Fulham, and here to give sentence against them. Nevertheless,
perceiving, by my last doing, that your grace was offended, I thought
it my duty, before I any farther proceeded herein, to advertise first
your grace hereof, and know your good pleasure, which I beseech
your grace I may do by this trusty bearer. And thus, most humbly,
I take my leave of your good grace, beseeching Almighty God always
to preserve the same. At Fulham, anno, 1557.
" Your grace's most bounden beadsman and servant,
" Edmund Bonner."
From the contents of this letter, may evidently be seen the perse-
cuting spirit of the blood-thirsty Bonner, who was manifestly de-
sirous of glutting himself with the massacre of those innocent
persons.
Cardinal Pole, though a papist, was a man of moderation and hu-
manity, as appears, not only by his endeavours to mitigate the fury
of Bonner, but also by several of his letters, directed to Archbishop
Cranmer, as well as many complaints alleged against him to the pope,
for his lenity towards the heretics.
Nay, so incensed was his holiness by his mild and merciful dispo-
sition, that he ordered him to Rome, and would have proceeded
against him most rigorously, had not Queen Mary interposed in his
behalf, and warded off the danger that threatened him, and which
would otherwise have fallen very heavily on him, for it was shrewdly
suspected by the pope and his court, that the cardinal, a short lime
before his coming from Rome to England, began to favour the opinion
and doctrine of Luther.
But to turn to the account of our martyrs, who would certainly
have all suffered, had it not been for the interposition of Cardinal
Pole ; it would exceed the limits of our work, and be tedious to the
reader, were we minutely to relate the articles that were respectively
administered to each, and their several answers to the same. We
shall, therefore, confine ourselves to that of the Lord's Supper, on
which they were principally examined, and give their
General Confession concerning the Sacrament.
" Whereas Christ, at his last Supper, took bread, and when he had
given thanks he brake it, and gave it to his disciples, and said, Take,
eat, this is my body. And likewise took the cup and thanked, <fec.
We do understand it to be a figurative speech, as the common man
ner of his language was in parables, and dark sentences, that ihey
which were carnally minded should see with their eyes, and not un-
derstand ; signifying this, that as he did break the bread among
them, being but one loaf, and they all were partakers thereof, so we,
through his body, in that it was broken and offered upon the cross foi
us, are all partakers thereof; and his blood cleanseth us from oui
sins, and hath pacified God's wrath towards us, and made the atone
SUPPLICATION OF THE PRISONERS. 429
ment between God and us, if we walk henceforth in the light, even as
he is the true light.
" And that he said further, Do this in rcmemhrance of me ; it is a
memorial and token of the suflerings and death of Jesus Christ :
and he commanded it for this cause, that the followers of Christ should
come together to sliow his death, and to thank him for his benefits,
and magnify his holy name ; and so to break bread, and drink the
wine, in remembrance that Christ had given his body and shed his
blood for us.
" Thus you may well perceive though Christ called the bread his
body, and wine his blood, yet it followeth not, that the substance of
his body should be in the bread and wine, as divers places in scripture
are spoken by the apostles in like phrase of speech, as in John xv.
/ am the true vine. Also in John x. / am the door. And as it is
written in the ninth chapter to the Hebrews, and in Exodus xxiv.
how Moses took the blood of calves, and sprinkled both the book and
all the people, saying. This is the blood of the covenant or testament.
And also in the fifth chapter of Ezekiel, how the Lord said unto
him concerning the third part of his hair, saying. This is Jerusa-
lem, &c.
" Thus we see how the scriptures speak in figures, and ought to be
spiritually examined, and not as they would have us to say, that the
bodily presence of Christ is in the bread, which is a blasphemous un-
derstanding of the word, and contrary to the holy scriptures.
" Also, Ave see that great idolatry is sprung out of the misunder-
standing of the words of Christ, This is my body, and yet daily
springeth, to the great dishonour of God ; so that men worship a piece
of bread for God ; yea, and hold that to be their maker."
After this confession of their faith and doctrine was written and
exhibited, they also drew up a letter in the form of a short supplica-
tion, or rather an admoni-tion to the judges and commissioners, re-
quiring that justice and judgment, after the rule of God's word, might
be administered unto them. This letter was as follows :
" A Supplication of the Prisoners to the Judges.
'' To the right honourable audience, before whom our Avritings and
the confession of our faith shall come : we poor prisoners, being fast
in bonds, upon the trial of our faith, which we offer to be tried by the
scriptures, pray most heartily, that forasmuch as God hath given
you power and strength over us, as concerning our bodies, under
whom we submit ourselves as obedient subjects in all things, ye, be-
ing officers and rulers of the people, may execute true judgment,
keep the laws of righteousness, govern the people, and defend the
cause of the poor and helpless.
"God, for his Son, Jesus Christ's sake, give you the wisdom and
understanding of Solomon, David, Hezekiah, Moses, with divers
other most virtuous rulers, by whose wisdom and godly understand-
ing, the people were justly ruled and governed in fear of God, all
wickedness was by them overthrown and beaten down, and all godli-
ness and virtue did flourish and spring. O God, which art the most
high, the creator and maker of all things, and of all men, both great
and small, and carest for all alike, Avho dost try all men's works and
imaginations, before whose judgment-seat shall come both high and
430 BOOK OF MARTYRS
low, rich and poor ; we most humbly beseech thee to put info our
rulers' hearts the pure love and fear oif that name, that even as they
themselves would be judged, and as they shall make answer before
thee, so they may hear our causes, judge with mercy, and read over
these our requests and confessions of our faith with deliberation and
a godly judgment.
" And if any thing here seemeth to you to be erroneous or disa
greeing with the scripture, if it shall please your lordships to hear us
j)atiently, which do ofler ourselves to be tried by the scriptures,
thereby to make answer; and, in so doing, we poor subjects bemg in
much captivity and bondage, are bound to pray for your noble estate
and long preservation."
Notwithstanding the request of these men was so just, and theii
doctrine so sound, yet the bishop, and the other judges, would have
passed sentence on them, had it not been for Cardinal Pole, and some
others, who thought the putting to death of so many at one time, would
produce a great disturbance among the people. It was therefore de-
creed, that they should make a submission, or confession, and, there-
upon, be discharged. This they readily agreed to; and the following
paper was drawn up and signed by them.
" Because our Saviour at his last supper took bread, and when he
had given thanks, he brake it, and gave it unto his disciples, and said,
' Take, eat, this is my body which is given for you, this do in remem-
brance of me ;' therefore, according to the words of our Saviour Jesus
Christ, we do believe in the sacrament to be spiritually Christ's body.
And likewise he took the cup, gave thanks, and gave it to his disci-
ples, and said, ' This is my blood of the New Testament which is shed
for many ;' therefore likewise do we believe that it is spiritually the
blood of Christ, according as his church doth administer the same.
Unto which catholic church of Christ we do, like as in all other mat-
ters, submit ourselves, promising therein to live as it becometh good
Christian men, and here in this realm to behave ourselves as becometh
faithful subjects unto our most gracious king and queen, and to all
other superiors, both spiritual and temporal, according to our bounden
duties."
The whole twenty-two persons brought from Colchester respective-
ly subscribed their names to this submission ; as did also six others
who had been apprehended in London, and were brought up with
them at the same time for examination. The names of the whole were
as follow :
John Atkyn, Allen Sympson, Richard George, Thomas Firefanne,
William Munt, Richard Joly, Richard Gratwick, Thomas Winssey,
RSchard Rothe, Richard Clarke, Stephen Glover, Robert Colman
Thomas Merse, William Bongeor, Robert Bercock, Margaret Hyde,"
Elyn Euring, Christian Pepper, Margaret Field, Alice Munt, Joan
Winsley, Cicely Warren, Rose Allen, Ann Whitlocke, George Barber,
John Saxby, Thomas Locker, and Alice Locker.
In consequence of their submission, they were all immediately set
at liberty ; though several of them were afterwards apprehended, and
put to death. One of the women, Margaret Hyde, escaped their re-
sentment but a short time, being one in the list we have next to bring
forward, of those who suffered for the truth of the gospel.
LOSEBY, RAMSEY, AND OTHERS. 431
Martyrdoms of Thomas Losehy, Henry Ramsey, Thomas Thyrteil,
Margaret Hyde, and Agnes Stanley.
The popish emissaries having laid information against those five
persons, they were all apprehended, and being examined by several
justices of the county of Essex, in which they resided, were by them
sent up to the bishop of London, for examination. On their arrival,
the bishop referred them to the chancellor, who, after questioning
them on the articles usual on such occasions, committed them all to
Newgate.
After being imprisoned nearly three months, by order of the chan-
cellor, they were summoned to appear before the bishop himself, when
the following singular articles were exhibited against them.
" 1. That they thought, beheved, and declared, within some part of
the city and diocese of London, that the faith, religion, and ecclesias-
tical service here observed and kept, as it is in the realm of England,
was not a true and laudable faith, religion, and service, especially con-
cerning the mass and the seven sacraments, nor were they agreeable
to God's word ; and that they could not, without grudging and scruple,
receive and use it, nor conform themselves unto it, as other subjects
of this realm customarily have done.
"2. Tha< they have thought, &c. that the English service, set forth
in the time of King Edward the Sixth, in this realm of England, was
good, godly, and catholic in all points, and that it alone ought, here in
this realm, to be received, used, and practised, and none other.
" 3. That they had thought, <fec. that they were not bound to their
parish church, and there to be present at matins, mass, even-song, and
other divine service.
" 4. That they had thought, <fec. that they were not bound to come
to procession to the church, upon times appointed, and to go in the
same with others of the parish, singing or saying the accustomed
prayers used in the church, nor to bear a taper, or candle, on Candle-
mas-day, nor take ashes on Ash-Wednesday, nor bear palms on Palm-
Sunday, nor to creep to the cross on days accustomed, nor to receive
holy water and holy bread, or to accept or allow the ceremonies and
usages of the church, after the manner in which they were then used
in this realm.
" 5. That they had thought, <fcc. that they were not bound, at any
time, to confess their sins to any priest, and to receive absolution at
his hands as God's minister, nor to receive, at any time, the blessed
sacrament of the altar, especially as it is used in the church of Eng
land.
" 6. That they had thought, <fec. that in matters of religion and faith,
they were bound to follow and believe their own conscience only, and
not credit the determination and common order of the catholic church,
and see of Rome, nor any members thereof.
"7. That they had thought, &:c. that the fashion and manner of
christening infants, is not agreeable to God's word, and that none can
be effectually baptized, and therefore saved, except they are arrived
to years of discretion to believe themselves, and willingly accept, or
refuse, baptism at their pleasure.
"8. That (hey had thought, &.c. that prayers to saints, or prayers
for the dead, were not available, nor allowable by God's word, and
432 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
that souls departed this life do immediately go to heaven or hell, or
else to sleep till the day of doom : so that there is no place of pur-
gation at all.
" 9. That they had thought, &,c. that all those, -who in the time of
King Henry VIII. or in the time of Queen Mary, the present sove-
reign of England, had been burned as heretics, were no heretics, but
faithful, sincere Christians ; especially Barnes, Garret, Jerome, Frith,
Rogers, Hooper, Cardmaker, Latimer, Taylor, Bradford, Cranmer,
Ridley, <fcc. and that they did allow and approve all their opinions,
and disapproved their condemnations and burnings.
" 10. That they had thought, &c. that fasting and prayers used in
the church of England, and the appointing a day for fasting, and ab-
staining from flesh upon fasting days, especially in the time of Lent,
is not laudable nor allowable, by Gods word, and that men ought to
have liberty, at all times, to eat all kind of meats.
" IL That they thought, &-c. that the sacrament of the altar is an
idol ; and to reserve, keep, and honour it, is idolatry and superstition,
as was also the mass and elevation of the sacrament.
" 12. That they had thought, &,c. that they were not bound to be
convened before an ecclesiastical judge, concerning matters of faith
nor to make answer to all, especially upon oath on a book."
The first, second, third, fourth, fifth, eighth, and nin h articles,
they granted in general, excepting that they denied " that souls de-
parted do sleep till the day of judgment," as mentioned in the eighth
article.
With respect to the sixth article objected to them, they thought
themselves bound to believe the true catholic church, so far as it in-
structed them according to God's holy word, but not to follow the
determinations of the superstitious church of Rome.
Concerning the eighth and twelfth articles, they denied that they
ever maintained zz\y such absurd opinions, but granted that man of
himself, without the aid and assistance of God's spirit, had no powei
to do any thing acceptable in the sight of God.
To the tenth article they answered, that true fasting and prayer
used according to God's word, was allowable, and approved in his
sight ; and that, by the same Avord, every faithful man may eat all
meats at all times, with thanksgiving to God for the same.
Having given these answers, they were dismissed, and conveyed
to their respective places of confinement, where they remained till
they were again brought before the bishop, who made no other in-
quiry, than whether they would abjure their heretical opinions ; and
on their refusal, again dismissed them.
At length, they were brought into the public consistory court, at
St. Paul's, and severally asked what they had to allege, why sentence
of condemnation should not be pronounced against them.
Thomas Loseby being first questioned, thus replied : " God give
me grace to withstand you, your sentence, and your law, which de-
vours the flock of Christ, for I perceive death is my certain portion,
unless I will consent to believe in that accursed idol the mass."
Thomas Thyrtell being next examined, said, " My lord, if you
make me a heretic, you make Christ and the twelve apostles all he-
retics, for I hold one and the same faith with them, and I will abide
in that faith, being assured that it will obtain for me everlasting life."
GRATWICK MORA NT, AND KING. 4,^3
Henry Ramsey being required to recant, answered, " My lord,
would you have me abjure the truth, and, for fear of death here for
feit eternal felicity hereafter ?"
Margaret Hyde being questioned, replied, " My lord, you have no
cause to pronounce sentence against mo, for I am in the true faith, nor
will ever forsake it ; and I wisli I was more confirmed in it than I am."
Agnes Stanley, the last examined, said, " My lord, I would suffer
every hair of my liead to be burned, before I would renounce the
faith of Ci)rlst, and his holy gospel."
The court now broke up, but was convened again in the afternoon,
when the prisoners were brought in, and were again examined.
Thomas Loseby, being first called upon, his articles and answers
were read ; after which many attempts were made to bring him to a
recantation, but he persisted in his faith, declaring, that " he hoped he
had the spirit of God, which had led him into all truth :" his sentence
of condemnation was therefore pronounced, and he was delivered to
the custody of the sheriff, in order for execution.
Various arguments were used by the bishop to bring over Marga-
ret Hyde ; but she declared she would not depart from what she had
said upon any penalty whatever ; and added, that she would gladly
hear his lordship instruct her from some part of God's word, and not
talk to her concerning holy bread and holy water, which was no part
of God's word.
The bishop finding her resolute, pronounced sentence on her, and
she was delivered over to the secular power.
Agnes Stanley was also admonished to return to the communion of
the holy mother church, but she continued steadfast in her faith, de-
claring she was no heretic, and that those who were burned, as the
papists said, for heresy, w^ere true martyrs in the sight of God. In
' consequence of this she likewise received sentence of death, and
was committed to the care of the sheriff.
Thomas Thyrtell being asked what he had to allege, answered,.
" My lord, I will not hold Avith those idolatrous opinions you would
inculcate ; for I say the mass is idolatry, and I will abide by the faith
of Christ as long as I live."
He was then sentenced in the same manner as the former.
Henry Ramsey, who was last called, being asked whether he would
stand by his answers, as the rest had done, or recant and become a
new member of the church, replied, " I will never abjure my religion^
in w;hich I will live, and in which I will die."
Their examination being closed, and sentence of death passed on
them all, they Mere immediately conducted to Newgate, where they
continued till the 12th of April, 1557. On the morning of that day they
were led to Smithfield, the place appointed for their execution, where,
being fastened to two stakes, they were burnt in one fire, praisings
God as long as they had the poAver of speech, and cheerfully giving
up their lives in testimony of the truth of the gospel.
Martyrdom of Stephen Gratwick, William Morant, and John King.
Stephen Gratwick being informed against by the popish emissa-
ries, on a susj)icion of heresy, was apprehended, and being carried
before a justice of peace, was committed to the Marshalsea prison,
where he continued for a considerable time.
2a
434 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
At length he was brought before Dr. White, bishop of Winchester
in St. George's church, Southwark, to answer such questions as ho
should be asked relative to his religious opinions.
The bishop first asked him if he would revoke the heresies which
he had maintained and defended ; when Mr. Gratwick answering in
the negative, he administered the usual articles, desiring him to give
an explicit answer to each.
The articles being read, Mr. Gratwick replied, " My lord, these
articles are of your making, and not of mine, nor have I had any
time to examine them ; therefore I desire the liberty of lawful ap-
peal to mine ordinary, having no concern with you."
During his examination, the bishop of Rochester and the arch-
deacon of Canterbury arrived, when, on a consultation about the pre-
sent case, it was agreed to introduce a person to represent the ordi-
nary, which being done, Gratwick desired leave to depart, but the
counterfeit ordinary insisted on his being detained, saying, that he
was justly summoned before those lords and him, on trial of his faith;
and that, if he confessed the truth, he should be quietly dismissed,
and allowed full liberty.
Gratwick told him, that " he would turn his own argument upon
him, for Christ came before the high-priest, scribes, and Pharisees,
bringing the truth with him, being the very truth himself; yet both he
and his truth were condemned, and had no avail with them ; the
apostles likewise, and all the martyrs that died since Christ, did the
same."
The bishop of Winchester then asked his opinion concerning the
sacrament of the altar; to which he replied, "My lord, I do verily
believe that in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, truly adminis-
tered in both kinds, according to the institution of Christ, unto the
worthy receiver, he eateth mystically, by faith, the body and blood
of Christ."
The bishop of Rochester observed, that this definition was a mere
evasion of the principal points, for that he separated the sacrament
of the altar from the Supper of the Lord, intimating thereby, that the
former Avas not the true sacrament ; and also condemned their me-
thod of administering it in one kind, as well as hindered the unworthy
receiver to eat and drink the body and blood of Christ, which, if duly
weighed, were points of the highest importance, though he had craftily
evaded them.
Having entered into closer examination concerning this matter, the
counterfeit ordinary ordered the articles to be read again, and Grat-
wick refusing to make any reply, Avas threatened with excommunica-
tion ; on which he thus addressed himself to his examiners :
" Since ye thirst for my blood, before ye are glutted with the same,
permit me to say a word in my own cause. On Sunday, my lord of
Winchester, I was before you, when you took occasion to preach
from these words of St. James : ' If any man among you seem to be
religious, and bridleth not his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart,
this man's religion is vain.' From these words, my lord, by wrested
inferences, you slander us poor prisoners, upbraiding us with the ti-
tle of Arians, Herodians, Sacramentaries, and Pelagians. When we
stood up to speak in vindication of ourselves, you threatened to cut
out our tongues, and caused us to be dragged out of the church by
A
. EDMUND ALLIN, AND OTHERS. 435
violence: nevertheless, I will abide by the truth to the end oi my
life."
The incensed prelate, after various endeavours, by threats and pro-
mises, to bring him to a recantation, finding that vain, pronounced st^u-
lence of condemnation upon him, and he was delivered over to the
sheriff", who immediately conducted him to the Marshalsea prison.
Here he remained till the latter end of May, 1557, when he was
brought to the stake in St. George's Fields, and there cheerfully re-
signed up his soul into the hand of him who gave it.
Two persons, named William Morant and John King, suffered with
him ; but we have no account on record relative to their examina-
Martyrdom of five women and two men, at Maidstone, June 18, 1557.
We have stated that after the proclamation, in February, 1557, the
storm of persecution began in all places to rage anew, but no where
more than in the diocese of Canterbury, as the inquisition was there
under the direction of Richard Thornton, bishop of Dover, and the
archdeacon of Canterbury, who were so furious against the harmless
flock of Christ, that they needed not the proclamation to stir up the
coals of their burning cruelty, but yet were enabled by it to gratify to
a greater extent their diabolical malice against the believers. We
have already given several instances of the furious persecutions in
this diocese, and we have now to add the following, wherein seven
innocents were committed to the flames by these monsters, under the
pretence of religion ! W^e shall give the account in the original
words of the Martyrologist, as they are curious and interesting.
In the next month following, being the 18th day of June, were
seven Christian and faithful martyrs of Christ burned at Maidstone,
whose names here follow :
Joan Bradbridge, of Staplehurst :
Walter Appleby, of Maidstone :
Petronil, his wife :
Edmund Allin, of Frytenden :
Catherine, his wife ;
John Manning's wife, of Maidstone ;
Elizabeth, a blind maiden.
As concerning the general articles commonly objected to them in
the public consistory, and the order of their condemnation, it difiereth
not much from the usual manner expressed before, neither did their
answers, in efieci, much differ from the others that suffered under the
same ordinary, in the aforesaid diocese at Canterbury.
Now as touching their answers and manner of apprehension, and
their private conflicts with their adversaries, I find no great matter
coming to my liands, save only of Edmund Allin some intimation is
given me, how his troubles came, what was his cause and answers
before the justices, as here consequently you shall understand.
The examination of Edmund Allin.
This Allin was a miller, of the parish of Frytenden, in Kent, and in a
lear year, when many poor people were like to starve, he fed them,
nd sold his corn cheaper by half than others did ; he also fed them
vith the food of life, reading to them the scriptures, and intprpreiing
436 BOOR OF MARTYRS.
thorn. This being known to the popish priests dwelling thereabouts,
by the procurement of two of them, namely, of John Taylor, parson
of Frytenden, and Thomas Henden, parson of Staplehurst, he was
soon complained of to the justices, and brought before John Baker,
knight, who committed both him and his wife to prison, but soon after
they were let out, I know not how, and went to Calais ; where, con-
tinuing some time, he began to be troubled in conscience, and meeting
with one John Webb, from Frytenden, (who had likewise fled from
the tyranny of Sir John Baker, and Parson Taylor,) said unto him,
that he could not be in quiet there, whatsoever the cause was ; " for
God," said he, " had something for him to do in England ;" and
shortly after he returned to Frytenden, where was cruel Taylor.
This parson being informed that Edmund Allin and his wife were
returned, and were not at mass time in the church ; as he was the
same time in the midst of his mass, upon a Sunday, a little before the
elevation, (as they term it,) even almost at the lifting up of his Romish
god, he turned to the people in a great rage, commanded them with
all speed to go unto their house, and apprehend them, and he would
come unto them as soon as he could. Which promise he well per-
formed, for he had no sooner made an end of ite missa est, and the
vestments off his back, but presently he was at the house, and there
laying hands on the said Allin, caused him again to be brought to Sir
John Baker, with a grievous complaint of his exhorting and reading
the scriptures to the people ; and so he and his wife were sent to
Maidstone prison. Witnessed by Richard Fletcher, vicar of Cram-
boke, and John Webb, of Frytenden.
No sooner were they in prison, but Sir John Baker immediately sent
certain of his men to their house, namely, John Dove, Thomas Best,
Thomas Linley, Percival Barber, with the aforesaid John Taylor,
parson of Frytenden, and Thomas Henden, parson of Staplehurst, to
take an inventory of all the goods that were in the house ; where they
found in the bed-straw a little chest locked with a padlock, wherein
ihey found a sackcloth bag of money, containing the sum of thirteen
or fourteen pounds, partly in gold, and partly in silver ; which money,
after being told, and put in the bag again, they carried away with
them.
Besides, also, they found there certain books, as psalters, bibles,
and other writings ; all which books, with the money, were delivered
to the aforesaid priest, Thomas Henden, parson of Staplehurst, and,
afterwards, in the fifth year of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, it was
by right law recovered from him again, as in records remaineth to be
seen.
Thus good Edmund Allin and his wife, being maliciously accused,
wrongfully imprisoned, and cruelly robbed and spoiled of all their
goods, were brought, as is aforesaid, before Sir John Baker, the jus-
tice, to be examined ; who, taunting and reviling him without all mercy
and pity, asked him if those were the fruits of his gospel, to have .con-
venticles, to gather people together, to make conspiracies, to sow sedi-
tion and rebellion ; and thus he began to reason with him.
Baker. Who gave thee authority to preach and interpret? Art
thou a priest? Art thou admitted thereunto? Let me see thy licence.
Collins, Sir John Baker's schoolmaster, said, surely he is an arrant
heretic, and worthy to be burned.
EDMUND ALLIN. 4^7
Allin. If it pleases your honour to permit me to answer in the
cause of my faith, I am persuaded that God hath given me this autlio-
rity, as he hath given to all other Christians. Why are we called
Christians, if Ave do not follow Christ, if we do not read his law, if
we do not interpret it to others that have not so much understanding?
Is not Christ our Father? Shall not the son follow the father's steps?
Is not Christ our master ? and shall the scliolar be inhibited to learn
and preach his precepts ? Is not Christ our Redeemer, and shall we
not praise his name, and serve him, who hath redeemed us from sin
and damnation ? Did not Christ, when but twelve years of age, dis-
pute with the doctors, and interpret the prophet Isaiah ? and yet, not-
withstanding he was neither of the tribe of Levi, which were priests,
but of the royal tribe of Judah, neither had taken any outward priest-
hood ; wherefore, if we be Christians, we must do the same.
Collins. Please your honour, what a knave is this, that compareth
himself with Christ !
Baker. Let him alone, he Mill pump out presently an infinite num-
ber of heresies. Hast thou any more to say for thyself?
Allin. Yea, that I have. Adam was licensed of God, and Abra-
ham was commanded to teach his children, and posterity, and so Da-
vid teacheth in divers psalms ; and Solomon also preached to the peo-
ple, as the book of the preacher very well proveth, where he teacheth
that there is no immortal felicity in this life, but in the next. And
Noah taught them that w^ere disobedient in his days, and therefore is
called " The eighth preacher of righteousness," in the second epistle
of Peter. Also, in the 11th chapter of Numbers, where Moses had
chosen seventy elders to help him to teach and rule the rest, Eldad
and Medad preached in the tents, wherefore Joshua being ofl'ended,
complained to Moses, that Eldad and Medad did preach without
licence. To whom Moses answered, and wished that all the people
could do the like. Why should I be long? most of the priests w^ere
not of the tribe of Levi and Aaron.
Collins. These arc authorities of the Old Testament, and, therefore,
abrogated; but thou art a fool, and know est no school points. Is not
the law divided into the law ceremonial and judicial ?
Allin. I grant that the ceremonies ceased when Christ came, as
St. Paul proveth to the Hebrews, and to the Colossians, when he saith,
" Let no man judge, you in any part of the Sabbath day, new moon,
or other ceremonies, which are figures of things to come ; for Christ
is the body."
Collins. And are not the judicials abrogated by Christ ?
Allin. They are confirmed both by Christ, in the fifth chapter of
Matthew, and by Paul in the first epistle to Timothy. The law, saith
he, is not yet set forth for the virtuous and godly, but for manslayers,
perjurers, adulterers, and such like.
Collins. Thou art a heretic. Wilt thou call the judicials of
Moses again ? Wilt thou have adultery punished with death ? disobe-
dient children to their parents to be stoned ? Wilt thou have Legem
Talionis 1 But thou art an ass. Why should I speak Latin to thee,
thou erroneous rebel ? shall we now smite out eye for eye, tooth for
tooth ? Thou art worthy to have thy teeth and tongue plucked out.
Allin. If we had that law, we should neither have disobedient chil-
dren, neither false witness bearers nor ruffians.
438 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Bak'er. Master Collins, ]et us return to our first matter. Wl.y dirt
you teach the people, whom you said you had fed both bodily and
spiritually, being no priest ?
Allin. Because that we are all kings to rule our affections, priests
to preach out the virtues and word of God, as Peter writeth, and lively
stones to give light to others. For as out of flint stones cometh forth
that which is able to set the world on fire ; so out of Christians
should spring the beams of the gospel, which should inflame all the
world. If we must give a reckoning of our faith to every man, and
now to you demanding it, then must we study the scriptures, and
practise them. What availeth it a man to have meat, and will eat
none ; or apparel, and will wear none ; or to have an occupation, and
to teach none ; or to be a lawyer, and to utter none ? Shall every
artificer be suffered, yea, and commended to practise his faculty and
science, and the Christian forbidden to exercise his ? Dotli not every
lawyer practise his law? Is not every Christian a follower of Christ?
Shall ignorance, which is condemned in all sciences, be practised by
Christians ? Doth not St. Paul forbid any man's spirit to be quench-
ed ? Doth he prohibit any man that hath any of these gifts, which he
repeateth, 1 Cor. xiv. to practise the same? Only he forbiddeth wo-
men, but no man. The Jews never forbade any. Read the Acts of
the Apostles. And the restraint was made by Gregory, the ninth
pope of that name, as I heard a learned man preach in King Edward's
days.
CoUins. This villain, please your honour, rs mad. By my priest-
hood, I believe that he will say that a priest hath no more authority
than another man ! Doth not a priest bind and loose?
Allin. No, my sin bindeth me, and my repentance looseth. God
forgiveth sin only, and no priest. For every Christian, when he sin-
neth, bindeth himself, and when he repenteth, looseth himself And
if any other be loosed from his sin by my exhortation, I am said to
loose him ; and if he persevere in sin notwithstanding my exhortation,
I am said to bind him, although it is God that bindeth and looseth,
and giveth the increase. Therefore saith Christ, Matt, xviii. " Where-
soever two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in
the midst of them ; and whose soever sins they forgive, they are for-
given, and whose soever they retain, they are retained." Neither hath
the pope any keys, save the keys of error ; for the key that openeth
the lock to God's mysteries and salvation, is the key of faith and re-
pentance. And as I have heard learned men reason, St. Austin, Origen,
and others, are of this opinion.
Then they reviled him and laid him in the stocks all night : where-
with some that were better minded, being oflended with such extremity,
desired Allin to keep his conscience to himsell", and to follow Baruch's
counsel, in the sixth chapter : "Wherefore when ye see the multitude
of people Avorshipping them, behind and before, say ye in your hearts,
O Lord, it is thon that ought only to be worshipped."
Wherewith he was persuaded to go to hear mass the next day, and
suddenly before the sacring, went out and considered in the church-
yard with himself, that such a little cake between the priest's fingers
could not be Christ, nor a material body, neither to have soul, life,
sinews, bones, flesh, legs, head, arms, nor breast, and lamented that
he Avas seduced by the words of Baruch, which his conscience told
EDMUND ALLIN. 439
Iiim was no scripture, or else had anotlicr meaning : after this he was
brought again before Sir John Baker, who asked why he refused to
worship the blessed sacrament of the altar.
Allin. It is an idol.
Collins. It is God's body.
Allin. It is not.
Collins. By the mass it is.
Allin. It is bread.
Collins. How provest thou that?
Allin. When Christ sat at his supper, and gave them bread to eat.
Collins. Bread, knave?
Allin. Yes, bread, which you call Christ's body. Sat he still at
the table, or was he both in their mouths and at the table? If he was
m their mouths, and at the table, then had he two bodies, or else he had
a fantastical body, which is an absurdity.
Baker. Christ's body was glorified, and might be in more places
than one.
Allin. Then he had more bodies than one, by your own placing of
him.
Collins. Thou ignorant ass, the schoolmen say, that a glorified body
may be every where.
Allin. If his body was not glorified till it rose again, then was it
not glorified at his last supper ; and therefore was not at the table, and
in their mouths, by your own reason.
Collins. A glorified body occupieth no place.
Allin. That which occupieth no place, is neither God nor any thing
else. If it be nothing, then is your religion nothing. If it be God,
then have we four in one Trinity, which is the person of the Father,
of the Son, of the Holy Ghost, and the human nature of Christ. If
Christ be nothing, which you must needs confess, if he occupieth no
place, then is our study vain, our faith frustrate, and our hope without
reward.
Collins. This rebel will believe nothing but Scripture ! How
knowest thou that it is the Scripture, but by the church ? and so
Baith St. Austin.
Allin. I cannot tell what Dr. Austin saith, but I am persuaded that
it is Scripture, by divers arguments : First, that the law worketh in
me my condemnation. The law telleth mc, that of myself I am
damned ; and this damnation, Mr. Collins, you must find in yourself,
or else you shall never come to repentance. For as this grief and
sorrow of conscience, without faith, is desperation ; so is a glorious
and Romish faith, without the lamentation of a man's sins, pre-
sumption.
The second is the gospel, which is the power and Spirit of God.
" This Spirit (saith St. Paul) certifieth my spirit that I am the Son ot
God, and that these are the Scriptures."
The third are the wonderful works of God, which cause me to be-
lieve that there is a God, though we glorify him not as God, Kom. i.
The sun, the moon, the stars, and other his works (as David discours-
eth Psalm xix.) declare that there is a God, and that these are the
Scriptures, because that they teach nothing else but God, and his
power, majesty, and might; and because the Scripture teacheth no
thing disagreeing from this prescription of nature. And, fourthly, be
440 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
cause that the word of God gave authority to the church in paradise,
saying, that the seed of the woman shall break doAvn the serpent's
head. This seed is the gospel ; this is all the scriptures, and by this
we are assured of eternal life ; and by these words, " The seed ot
^le woman shall break the serpent's head," gave authority to the
church, and not the church to the word.
Baker. I heard say that you spake against priests and bishops.
Allin. I spake for them ; for now they have so much living, and
especially bishops, archdeacons, and deans, that they neither can,
nor Avill teach God's word. If they had a hundred pounds apiece,
then would they apply their study ; now they cannot for their affairs.
Collins. Who will then set his children to school ?
Allin. Where there is now one set to school for that end, there
would be forty ; because that one bishop's living divided into thirty
or forty parts, would find so many men, as well learned as the bishops
now are who have all this living ; neither had Peter or Paul any such
revenue.
Baker. Let us despatch him ; he will mar all.
Collins. If every man had a hundred pounds, as he saith, it would
make more learned men.
Baker. But our bishops would be angry, if that they knew it.
Allin. It would be for the common good to have such bishoprics
divided, for the farther increase of learning.
Baker. What sayest thou to the sacrament ?
Allin. As I said before.
Baker. Away with him.
Then he was carried to prison, and afterwards burned. And thus
much concerning the particular story of Edmund Allin and his wife ;
who, with the five other martyrs abovenamed, being seven, were
burned at Maidstone, the 18th of June, 1557.
Martyrdoms of the Rev. John Rough, and of Margaret Maring.
Mr. John Rough was a native of Scotland, the son of reputable
and pious parents. Being deprived of the right of inheritance to
certain lands by some of his kindred, he was so irritated that, though
only seventeen years of age, he entered himself a member of the
order of Black Friars, at Stirling, in Scotland.
Here he continued upwards of sixteen years, when the earl of
Arran, (afterwards duke of Hamilton,) then regent of Scotland, hav-
ing a partiality for him, applied to the archbishop of St Andrew's to
dispense with his professed order, that he might serve him as a chap-
lain.
The archbishop readily granting the request of the regent, Mr.
Rough was disengaged from his monastic order, and continued chap-
lain to his patron about a year, when it pleased God to open his eyes,
and give him some knowledge of the truth of the gospel.
At this time the earl sent him to preach in the county of Ayr,
where he continued about four years, during which time he dis-
charged the duties of his office with the strictest diligence.
On the death of the cardinal of Scotland, he was sent for to offici-
ate at St. Andrev/'s, for which he had a pension of twenty pounds
per annum allowed him by King Henry VIII.
After being some time in this situolion, he began to abhor the ido-
REV. JOHN ROUGH. 44 1
latryand superstition of his own country; and when he found that on
the accession of Edward VI. there was free profession of the gospel in
England, he left St. Andrew's, and went first to Carlisle, and after-
wards waited on the duke of Somerset, then protector, by whom he
was appointed preacher, with an annual allowance of twenty pounds,
to serve in Carlisle, Berwick, and Newcastle-upon-Tyne.
A short time after this he married, and the archbishop of \ orit g^TC
him a benefice near the town of Kingston-upon-Hull, which he en-
joyed till the death of the king.
On the accession of Queen 5lary, when the true religion was super-
seded by the false, and persecution took place in all parts of the
kingdom, Mr. Rough fled with his wife into the Low Countries, and
took up his residence at a place called Norden, Here he maintained
himself by knitting and selling caps and hose, till the month of Octo-
ber, 1557, when wanting yarn, and other necessaries for his trade, he
embarked for England, and arrived in London on the 10th of No-
vember following.
Soon after his arrival, he was informed that there was a private
congregation of religious people in a certain part of the city, upon
which he joined them, and was elected their minister.
In this office he continued some time, till at the instigation of
Roger Sergeant, a hypocrite and false brother, on the 13th of Decem-
ber, he, together with one Cuthbert Simson, deacon of the aforesaid
congregation, were apprehended by the vice-chamberlain of the
queen's household, at the Saracen's-Head, in Islington, where the
congregation had assembled for the purpose of performing their
usual worship ; although, to avoid suspicion, it had been given out
that their meeting was to he&r a play.
Mr. Rough and Mr. Simson were both conducted by the vice-cham-
berlain to the queen's council, by whom they were charged with as-
sembling to celebrate the Comnmnion, or Lord's Supper. After a
long examination, Simson was, for the present, dismissed, but Rough
was sent prisoner to Newgate.
On the 18th of December, Bishop Bonner ordered Rough to be
brought before him at his palace in London, for examination concern-
ing his religious faith ; after which he was reconducted to his place
of confinement.
On the 20th of December he was brought to the consistory court
at St. Paul's, before Bonner, bishop of London, the bishop of St.
David's, Fecknam, abbot of Westminster, and others, in order to
undergo a final examination.
After various methods had been used by the court to persuade him
to recant, without effect, Bonner read the articles, with his answers,
before mentioned : he then charged him with marrying, after having
received priestly orders ; and that he had refused to consent to the
Latin service then used in the church.
Mr. Rough answered, their orders were of no effect, and that the
children he had by his wife were legitimate. Wit!, respect to the
Latin service then used, he had said, he utterly delisted it, and that,
were he to live as long as Methuselah, he would 17 ^ver go to chui ~h
to hear the abominable mass.
In consequence of this declaration, the bishop proceeded to the
ceremony of degradation ; after which h^ read t/ie sentence of con-
442 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
demiialion, and Mr. Rough being delivered to the sheriff, was by hira
reconducted to Newgate, there to remain till the time appointed for
his execution.
Examination of Margaret Maring.
This woman belonged to a private congregation in London, where
Mr. Rough used to officiate. She was suspected by him, and some
others, oi" not being sincere in the religion she professed ; but the
event showed that their suspicions were ill-founded.
An information being laid against her before the bishop of London,
he sent an officer to her house near Mark-lane, in the city, to appre-
hend her ; which being done, she was immediately brought before his
lordship, who, after a short examination, sent her to Newgate.
On the 18th day of December she was again brought before the
bishop, at his palace in London, in order to undergo a thorough exami-
nation, relative to her religious principles. The usual articles being
exhibited against her, she answered each respectively as follows :
1. That there is here on earth a catholic church, and there is the
true faith of Christ observed and kept in the same church.
2. That there are only two sacraments in the church, namely, the
sacrament of the body and blood of Christ, and the sacrament of
Baptism.
3. That she was baptized in the faith and belief of the said church,
renouncing there, by her godfathers and godmothers, the devil, ana
all his works.
4. That when she came to the age of fourteen years, she did no!
know what her true belief was, because she was not then of discretion
to understand the same, neither yet was taught it.
5. That she had not gone from the catholic faith at any time ; but
she said that the mass was abominable in the sight of God, and all
true Christian people.
6. Concerning the sacrament of the altar, she said she believed
there was no such sacrament in the catholic church : that she utterly
abhorred the authority of the bishop of Rome, with all the religion
observed in his antichristian church.
7. That she had refused to come to her parish church, because the
true religion was not then used in the same ; and that she had not
come into the church for the space of one year and three quarters,
neither did mean to come any more to the same, in these idolatrous
days.
8. She acknowledged that she was apprehended, and brought be-
fore the bishop of London.
These answers being registered by the bishop's official, she was, for
the present, remanded to prison.
On the 20th of December she was again brought before the bishop,
at his consistory court, where her articles and answers were again
read to her; after which they asked her if she would stand to the
same as they were registered ? She answered, that she would stand
to the same to her death : " for the very angels in heaven," said she,
" laugh you to scorn, to see the abomination you use in the church."
The bishop then used various arguments to prevail on her to re-
cant ; but finding them all ineffiictual, he read the sentence of con-
demnation, and she was delivered to the sheriff for execution, who re-
conducted her to Newgate.
ROBERT MILLS AND OTHERS. 443
Two days after this, on the 22d of December, 1557, she, with her
fellow-martyr John Rough, were conducted, by the proper ofiicers, to
Smithfield, where they were both fastened to one stake, and burnt in
the same lire. They both behaved themselves with Christian forti-
tude, and cheerfully gave up their lives in testimony of the truth of
that gospel, which was given to man by him from whom they hoped
to receive an eternal reward in his heavenly kingdom.
3Iartyrdoms of Robert Mills, Stephen Cotton, Robert Dines, Stephen
Wight, John Slade, and William Pikes.
These six men were apprehended, with several others, in a close
near Islington, where they had assembled to pay their devotions to
their Maker ; and being taken before a magistrate were committed to
prison as heretics.
A (evr days after their apprehension, they were brought before Dr.
Thomas Darbyshire, the bishop of London's chancellor, for exami-
nation ; when the usual articles were exhibited against them, to which
they answered as follows :
The first article they all granted. Robert Mills and Stephen Wight
said, they had not been at church for three quarters of a year ; Ste-
phen Cotton, not for a twelve month ; Robert Dines, for two years;
and John Slade and William Pikes, not since the queen's accession
to the throne.
To the second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth articles, they all an-
swered, in effect, as other protestants had done ; asserting, that as the
rites, ceremonies, and customs of the then church were against the
word of God, so they would not observe any part of the same.
The seventh article they all granted in every p^rt.
To the eighth article they likewise unanimously agreed ; but Ro-
bert Mills added, that he would not come to church, nor approve of
their religion, so long as the cross was crept to and worshipped, and
images kept in the church.
John Slade aftirmed, in effect, the same as Robert Mills, adding
farther, that there Mere not seven sacraments, but two, namely, Bap-
tism and the Supper of the Lord.
Stephen Cotton and Robert Dines would no farther allow the po-
pish religion than it agreed with God's word.
To the ninth and tenth articles, Robert Mills, John Slade, and Ste-
phen Cotton, answered, that they did not allow the popish service
then set forth, because it was against the truth, and in a language
which the common people did not understand.
Robert Dines, and William Pikes, would neither allow or disallow
the Latin service, because they did not understand it.
Stephen Wight would not make any answer to either of these two
articles, neither to the eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, or fourteenth ar-
ticles ; but the rest of his fellow-prisoners answered as follows :
To the eleventh article Robert Mills, John Slade, and Stephen
Cotton, answered, that concerning the books, faith, and religion, spe-
cified in this article, they did allow them, so far as they agreed with
God's word.
Robert Dines would not make any answer to this, saying, he did
not understand it ; and William Pikes said, that he would abide by
the service, faith, and religion, as set forth in the days of King Ed-
wani YL
444 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
To the twelft}i article they said, they would agree to it provided
they might receive the sacrament as administered in the reign of
King Edward.
The thirteenth and fourteenth articles they granted to be true in
every part.
After they had been all examined, they were reconducted to pri-
son, but ordered to appear on the 11th of July, at the consistory court
at St. Paul's. Accordingly, on that day, they were brought before
the bishop and his chancellor, by the latter of whom they were asked,
if they would turn from their opinions against the holy mother-
church ; and if not, whether they could show cause why sentence of
condemnation should not be pronounced against them. To this they
all answered, that they would not depart from the truth, nor any part
of the same, on any conditions whatever.
The chancellor then dismissed them, but ordered that they should
appear again before him the next day, in the afternoon, to hear their
definitive sentence pronounced, agreeably to the ecclesiastical law
then in force.
They were accordingly brought at the time appointed, when the
chancellor sat as judge, accompanied by Sir Edward Hastings and Sir
Thomas Cornwallis. The chancellor used his utmost endeavours to
prevail on them to recant, but all proved inefl'ectual. He therefore
read the sentence of condemnation, and they were delivered over to
the sheriffs, who conducted them to prison, in order for execution.
The chancellor, having condemned these six innocent persons, sent
a certificate of their condemnation to the lord chancellor's office,
from whence, the next day, a writ was issued for their being burnt at
Brentford.
On the 14th of July, 1558, they were conducted by the sheriffs, and
their attendants, from Newgate, to the place appointed for their ex-
ecution. As soon as they arrived at the fatal spot, they all knelt
down, and for some time prayed in the most fervent manner. After
this they arose, and undressing themselves, went cheerfully to the
stakes, of which there were three, thougli all were consumed in one
fire. Being bound to the stakes, and the fagots being lighted, they
all calmly and joyfully yielded up their souls to that God, for whose
gospel they suffered, and whose heavenly mansions they were in
hopes of inheriting.
Martyrdoms of Henry Pond, Rainhold Eastland, Robert Southam,
Matthew Ricarby, John Floid, John Holliday, and Roger Holland.
A few days after the execution of the before-mentioned six martyrs
at Brentford, seven others, who were apprehended with them at the
same time and place, were burnt in Smithfield. Their names we
have given above.
The particular examinations of these persons are not recorded, ex-
cept that of Roger Holland, which, together with his story, we give at
length, as being both interesting and edifying.
History, examination, and condemnation of Roger Holland.
This Roger Holland, a merchant tailor of London, was first an ap-
prentice with Mr. Kempton, at the Black Boy, in Watling-street,
w' ere he served his apprenticeship with much trouble to his master, in
breaking him of the licentious liberty which he had before been trained
ROGER HOLLAND. 445
and brought up in, giving himself to riot, as dancing, fencing, gaming,
banqueting, and wanton company ; and besides all this, an obstinate
papist, unlike to come to any such end as God called him unto.
liis master, notwithstanding his lewdness, trusted him with his ac-
counts ; and on a time he received ihe sum of thirty pounds for his
master, and falling into ill company, lost every groat at dice ; being
past all hope which way to answer it, and therefore he purposed to
convey himself beyond the seas.
Having determined with himself thus to do, he called betimes in
the morning on a servant in the house, an ancient and discreet
maid, whose name was Elizabeth, who professed the gospel, with a
life agreeing unto the same, and at all times much rebuking the witful
and obstinate papistry, as also the licentious living of this Roger Hol-
land. To whom he said, EUzabeth, I would I had followed thy gentle
persuasions and friendly rebukes ; which if I had done, I had never
come to this shame and misery which I have now fallen into ; for this
night I have lost thirty pounds of my master's money, which to pay him
and make up my accounts 1 am not able. But this much, I pray you,
desire my mistress, that she would entreat my master to take this note
of my hand, that I am thus much indebted to him, and if I am ever
able, I will see him paid ; desiring him that the matter may pass with
silence, and that none of my kindred and friends may ever understand
this my lewd part.
The maid, considering that it might be his utter ruin. Stay, said
she ; and having a sum of money by her, which was left her by a kins-
man, at his death, who was thought to be Dr. Redman, she brought
unto him thirty pounds, saying, Roger, here is thus much money, I
will let thee have it, and I will keep this note. But since I do thus
much for thee, to help thee, and to save thy honesty, thou shalt pro-
mise me to refuse all lewd and wild company, all swearing and ribald-
ry talk ; and if ever I know thee to play one twelve-pence at either
dice or cards, then will I show this thy note unto my master. And
furthermore, thou shalt promise me to resort every day to the lecture
at All-hallows, and the sermon at St. Paul's every Sunday, and to
cast away all thy books of popery and vain ballads, and get thee the
Testament and book of service, and read the scriptures with reverence
and fear, calling unto God still for his grace to direct thee in his truth.
A.nd pray fervently to God, desiring him to pardon thy former of-
fences, and not to remember the sins of thy youth; and ever be afraid
to break his laws, or offend his majesty.
After this time, within one half year, God had wrought such a
change in this man, that he was become an earnest professor of the
truth, and detested all popery and ill company ; so that he was an
admiration to all that had seen his former life.
Then he repaired to his father, in Lancashire, and brought diver
good books with him, and bestowed them among his friends, so that
his father and others began to taste the sweetness of the gospel, and
to detest the mass, idolatry, and superstition ; and in the end his fa-
ther gave him fifty pounds to begin the world withal.
Then he came to London again, and went to the maid that lent
him the money to pay his master withal, and said unto her, Elizabeth,
here is thy money I borrowed of thee, and for the friendship, good
will, and good counsel, I have received at thy hands, to recompense
446 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
thee I aiii not able, otherwise than by making thee my wife ; and soon
after they were mar ied, which was in the lirst year of Queen Mary.
And having a child by her, he caused Mr. Rose to baptise it in his
own house. Notwithstanding he was betrayed to the enemies, and
he being gone into the country to convey the child away, that the
papists should not have it in their annointing hands, Bonner caused
his goods to be seized on, and most cruelly used his wife.
After this he remained closely in the city, and in the country, in
the congregations of the faithful, until the last year of Queen Mary.
Then he, with the six others before named, were taken in, or not fai
from St. John's wood, and so brought to Newgate upon May day, in
the morning, 1558.
Then being called before the bishop. Dr. Chedsey, both the Harps-
fields, and certain others, after many other fair and crafty persuasions
of Dr. Chedsey, thus the bishop began with him :
Holland, I for my part do wish well unto thee, and the more for
thy friend's sake. And as Dr. Standish telleth me, you and he were
both born in one parish, and he knoweth your father to be a very
honest catholic gentleman; and Mr. Doctor told me that he talked
with you a year ago, and found you very wilfully addicted to your
own conceit. Divers of the city also have showed me of you, that
you have been a great procurer of men's servants to be of ycur reli-
gion, and to come to your congregations ; but since you now be in
the danger of the law, I would wish you to act a wise man's part ; so
shall you not want any favour I can do or procure for you, both for
your own sake, and also for your friends, who are men of worship
and credit, and wish you well ; and, by my troth, Roger, so do I.
Then said Mr. Eglestone, a gentleman of Lancashire, and near
kinsman to Roger, being there present, I thank your good lordship ;
your honour meaneth good unto my cousin ; I beseech God he hav&
the grace to follow your counsel.
Holland. Sir, you crave of God you know not what. I beseech
God to open your eyes to see the light of his word.
Eglestone. Roger, hold your peace, lest you fare the worse at my
lord's hands.
Holland. No, I shall fare as it pleaseth God, for man can do no
more than God doth permit him.
Then the bishop, and the doctors, with Johnson, the register, cast-
ing their heads together, in the end saith Johnson, Roger, how sayest
thou ? wilt thou submit thyself unto my lord, before thou be entered
into the book of contempt?
Holland. I never meant but to submit myself unto the magistrates,
as I learn of St. Paul to the Romans, chap. xiii. and so he recited
the text.
Chedsey. Then I see you are no anabaptist.
Holland. I mean not yet to be a papist ; for they and the anabap-
tists agree in this point, not to submit themselves to any other prince
or magistrate, than those that must lirst be sworn to maintain them
and their doings.
Chedsey. Roger, rem^^mber what I have said, and also what my
lord hath promised he will perform with farther friendship. Take
heed, Roger, for your ripeness of wit hath brought you into these
errors.
ROGER HOLLAND. 447
Holland. Mr. Doctor, I have yet your words in memory, though
llioy arc of no such force to prevail with me.
Tl'.en they whispered together again, and at last Bonner said,
Roger, I perceive tliou wilt not be ruled by good counsel, foi any
that eitlier I or your friends can say.
IloUavd. I may say to you, my lord, as Paul said to Felix, and to
the Jews, as doth appear in the 22d of the Acts, and in the 15th ot
the lirst epistle to the Corinthians. It is not unknoAvn unto my mas-
ter to whom I was apprentice withal, that I was of your blind reli-
gion, having that liberty under your auricular confession, that I made
no conscience of sin, but trusted in the priest's absolution, he for
money doing also some penance for me ; which after 1 had given, I
cared no farther what offences I did, no more than he minded aftei
he had my money, whether he tasted bread and water for me, or no
so that lechery, swearing, and all other vices, I accounted no ofl'ence
of danger, so long as I could for money have them absolved. So
straitly did I observe your rules of religion, that I would have ashes
upon Ash Wednesday, though I had used ever so much M-ickedness
at night. And albeit I could not of conscience eat flesh upon the
Friday, yet in swearing, drinking, or dicing, all the nightlong, I made
no conscience at all. And thus I was brought up, and herein I have
continued, till now of late that God hath opened the light of his word,
and called me by his grace to repentance of my former idolatry and
wicked life ; for in Lancashire their blindness and whoredom is much
more than may with chaste ears be heard. Yet these my friends,
which are not clear in these notable crimes, think the priest with his
mass can save them, though they blaspheme God, and keep concu-
bines besides their wives as long as they live.
Mr. Doctor, now to your antiquity, unity, and universality, (for
these Dr. Chedsey alleged as notes and tokens of their religion,) I am
unlearned. I have no sophistry to shift my reasons withal ; but the
truth I trust I have, which needeth no painted colours to set her forth.
The antiquity of our chui-ch is not from Pope Nicholas, or Pope Joan,
but our church is from the beginning, even from the time that God
said unto Adam, that the seed of the woman should break the ser-
pent's head ; and so to faithful Noah ; to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,
to whom it was promised, that their seed sl'.ould multiply as the stars
in the sky ; and so to Moses, David, and the holy fathers that were
from the beginning unto the birth of our Saviour Christ. All they
that believed these promises were of the church, though the number
were oftentimes but iew and small, as in Filias's days, when he thought
there was none but he that had not bowed their knees to Baal, when
God had reserved seven thousand that never had bowed their knees
to that idol ; as I trust there be seven hundred thousand more than
I know of, that have not bowed their knees to the idol your mass, an
your God Maozim ; the upholding Avhereof is your blood;; cruelty,
while you daily persecute Elias, and the servants of God, forcing them
(as Daniel was in his chamber) closely to serve the Lord their God ;
and even as we, by this your cruelty, are forced in the fields to pray
unto God, that his holy word may be once again truly preached
amongst us, and that he would mitigate and shorten these idolatrous
and bloody days wherein all cruelty reigneth. Moreover, of our
church have been the apostles and evangelists, the martyrs and con-
448 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
fessors of Christ, that have at all times and in all ages been perse-
cuted for the testimony of the word of God. But for the upholding
of your church and religion, what antiquity can you show? Yea, the
mass, that idol and chief pillar of your religion, is not yet four hun
dred years old, and some of your masses are younger, as that of St.
Thomas Becket, the traitor, wherein you pray, That you may be saved
by the blood of St. Thomas. And as for your Latin service, what arc
we of the laity the better for it ? I think he that should hear your
priests mumble up their service, although he did well understand
Latin, yet should he understand few words thereof, the priests do so
champ them and chew them, and post so fast, that they neither under-
stand what they say, nor they that hear them ; and in the mean time
the people, Avhen they should pray with the priest, are set to their
beads to pray our lady's psalter. So crafty is Satan to devise these
his dreams, (which you defend witli fagot and fire,) to quench the light
of the word of God ; which, as David saith, should be a lantern to om
feet. And again, wherein shall a young man direct his ways but by
the vi^vd of God ? And yet you will hide it from us in a tongue un-
known. St. Paul had rather have five words spoken with understand-
ing, than ten thousand in an unknown tongue ; and yet will you have
your Latin service and praying in a strange tongue, whereof the peo-
ple are utterly ignorant, to be of such antiquity !
The Greek church, and a good part of Christendom besides, never
received your service in an unknown tongue, but in their own natural
language, which all the people understand, neither yet your transub-
stantiation, your receiving in one kind, your purgatory, your ima-
ges, &:.c.
As for the imity which is in your church, what is it else but trea-
son, murder, poisoning one another, idolatry, superstition, and wick-
edness ? What unity was in your church, when there were three
popes at once ? Where was your head of unity when you had a wo-
man pope ?
Here he was interrupted, and could not be suffered to proceed.
The bishop then said, Roger, these thy words are downright bias
phemy, and by the means of thy friends thou hast been suffered to
speak, and art over malapert to teach any here. Therefore, keeper,
take him away.
The second Examination of Roger Holland.
The day that Henry Pond and the rest were brought forth to be
again examined. Dr. Chedsey said, Roger, I trust you have now better
considered of the church than you did before.
Holland. I consider thus much : that out of the church there is no
salvation, as divers ancient doctors say.
Bonner. That is well said. Mr. Eglestone, I trust your kinsman
will be a good catholic man. But, Roger, you mean, I trust, the
church of Rome.
Holland. I mean that church which hath Christ for her head ;
which also hath his word, and his sacraments according to his word
and institution.
Then Chedsey interrupted him, and said, Is that a Testament you
have in your hand ?
Holland. Yea, Mr. Doctor, it is a New Testament. You will find
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ROGER HOLLAND. 4<C)
no fault with the translation, I tliink. It is your own translation ; it
IS according to the great Bible.
Bonner. How say you? How do you know that it is the Testa-
ment of Christ, but only by tlie church ? For the cl.urch of Rome
hath and doth preserve it, and out of the same hath made decrees,
ordinances, and true expositions.
No, (saith Roger,) the cliurch of Roine hath and doth suppress the
reading of the Testament. And what a true exposition, I pray you
did the pope make thereof, when he put his foot on the emperor's
neck, and said, " Thou shalt walk upon the lion and the asp ; the
young Hon and tlie dragon shalt thou tread under thy foot ?"
Psalm xci.
Then said the bishop. Such unlearned wild heads as thou and
others, would be expositors of the scripture. Would you then the
ancient learned (as there are some here as well as I) should be taueht
of you ? I h
Holland. Youth delighteth in vanity. My wildness hath been
somewhat the more by your doctrine, than ever I learned out of this
book of God. But (my lord) I suppose some old doctors say, if a
poor layman bring his reason and argument out of the word of God,
he his to be credited before the learned, though they be ever such
great doctors. For the gift of knowledge was taken from the learned'
doctors, and given to poor fishermen. Notwithstanding, I am readjr
to be instructed by the church.
Bonner. That is very well said, Roger. But you must understand
that the church of Rome is the Catholic church. Roger, for thy-
friend's sake, (I promise thee) I wish tliee well, and I mean to do thee
good. Keeper, see he want nothing. Roger, if thou lackest any
money, to pleasure thee, I will see thou shalt not want. This he spake
unto him alone, his companions being apart, with many other fair
promises, and so he was sent to prison again.
His last Examination.
The last examination of Roger Holland was when he with his fel-
low prisoners were brought into the consistory, and there all excom-
municated, except Roger, and ready to have their sentence of judg-
ment given, with many threatening' words to affright them withal :
the Lord Strange, Sir Thomas Jarret, M. Eglestone, Esq., and divers
others of worship, both of Cheshire and Lancashire, that were Roger
Holland's kinsmen and friends, being there present, who had been-
•earnest suitors to the bishop in his favour, hoping for his safety of life.
Now the bishop, hoping yet to Avin him with his fair and flattering
words, began after this manner.
Bonner. Roger, I have divers times called thee before me at my
own house, and have conferred with thee, and being not learned in
the Latin tongue, it doth appear unto me that thou hast a good me-
mory, aiid very sensible in talk, but something over hasty, which is a
natural impediment incident to some men. And surely they are not
the worst natured men. For I myself am now and then too hasty, but
mine anger is soon over. So, Roger, surely I have a good oj^inion of
you, that you will not with these fellows cast yourself lieadlong from
the church of your parents and your friends that are here, very good
catholics, (as it is reported to me.) And as I mean tlice good, so.
29
450
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Ro^er, play the wise man's part, and come home with the lost son
anfi say, I have run into the church of schismatics and heretics, from
the cathoUc church of Rome, and you shall, I warrant you, not only
find favour at God's hands, but the church that hath authority, shall
absolve you, and put new garments upon you, and kill tlie falling to
make thee good cheer withal ; that is, in so doing, as meal doth re-
fresh and cherish the mind, so thou shall find as much quietness of
conscience in coming home to the church, as did the hungry son that
had been fed before with the hogs, as you have done with these here-
tics that sever themselves from the church. But, Roger, if I did not
bear thee and thy friends good will, I would not have said so much as
I have done, but I would have let mine ordinary alone wiih you.
At these words his friends there present thanked the bishop for his
good will, and for the pains he had taken in his and their behalf.
Then the bishop proceeded, saying. Well, Roger, how say you?
Do you not believe, that after the priest hath spoken the words of con-
secration, there remaineth the body of Christ really and corporeally,
under the forms of bread and wine ? I mean the self-same body as
was born of the Virgin Mary, that was crucified upon the cross, that
rose again the third day.
Holland. Your lordship saith, the same body which was born ot
Jhe Virgin Mary, which was crucified upon the cross, which rose again
the third day : but you leave out, who ascended into heaven ; and the
scripture saith, he shall there remain until he come to judge the
quick and the dead. Then he is not contained under the forms
of bread and wine, by Hoc est corpus mcum, &c.
Bonner. Roger, I perceive my pains and good will will not pre-
vail, and if I should argue with thee, thou art so wilful, (as all thy fel
lows be, standing in thine own singularity and foolish conceit,) that
thou wouldst still talk to no purpose this seven years, if thou mighlest
be suffered. Answer whether thou will confess the real and corpo-
real presence of Christ's body in the sacrament, or wilt not.
Holland. My lord, although God by his sufferance hath here placed
you, to set forth his truth and glory in us, his faithful servants, not-
withstanding your meaning is far from the zeal of Christ ; and, for
all your words, you have the same zeal that Annas and Caiphas had,
trusting to their authority, traditions, and ceremonies, more than to
the word of God.
Bonner. If I should suffer him, he would fall from reasoning to
raving, as a frantic heretic.
Roger, (said the Lord Strange,) my lord would have you tell him,
whether you will submit yourself, or no.
Yea, said Bonner, and confess this presence that I have spoken of.
With this Roger turned to the Lord Slrange,and the rest of his kins-
men and friends, and kneeling down upon his knees, said, God, by the
mouth of his servant Paul, halh said, " Let every soul submit himself
unto the higher powers, and he that resisleth, receiveth his own dam-
nation :" and as you are a magistrate appointed by God, so I submit
myself unto you, and to all such as are appointed for magistrates.
Bonner. That is well said ; I see you are no anabaptist. How say
you then to the presence of Christ's body and blood in the sacrament
of the altar ?
Holland. I say, and beseech you all to mark and bear witness with
ROGER HOLLAND. 4^]
me, (for so you sliall do before the jiulga.cnt scat of God,) what I
speak ; for here is the conclusion ; and ye, my dear friends, (turning
to his kinsmen,) I pray you sliow my father what I do say, that he
may understand that I am a Christian man. I say and beUeve, and
am therein fully persuaded by the scriptures, that the sacrament of
the supper of our Lord, ministered in the holy communion according
to Christ's institution, I being penitent and sorry for mv sins, and
minding to amend and lead a new life, and so coming worthily unto
God's board in perfect love and charity, do there receive, by faith,
the body and blood of Christ. And though Christ in his human
nature sit at the right hand of his Father, yet (by faith I say) his
death, his passion, his merits are mine, and by faith I dwell in
him, and he in me. And as for the mass, transubstanliation, and the
worshipping of the sacrament, they are mere impiety and horrible
idolatry.
I thought so much, said Bonner, (suffering him to speak no more,)
how he would prove a very blasphemous heretic as ever I heard.
How irreverently doth he speak of the blessed mass ! And so he
read his sentence of condemnation, adjudging him to be burned.
All this while Roger was very patient, and when he should depart,
he said, My lord, I beseech you to suffer me to speak two Avords.
The bishop would not hear him, but bade him away. Notwith-
standing, being requested by his friends, said. Speak, what hast thou
to say.
Holland. Even now I told you that your authority was from God.
and by his sufferance : and now I tell you God hath heard the prayei
of his servants, which hath been poured forth with tears for his af-
flicted saints whom you daily persecute, as now you do us. But this
I dare be bold in God to say, (by whose Spirit I am moved,) that God
will shorten your hand of cruelty, that for a time you shall not molest
his church. And this you shall in a short time Avell perceive, my
dear brethren, to be most true. For after this day, in this place there
shall not be any by him put to the trial of fire and fagot : [and after
that day there was none that sullered in Smithfield for the truth of
the gospel.]
Then said Bonner, Roger, tliou art, I perceive, as mad in these thy
heresies as ever was Joan Boucher. In anger and fume thou wouldsl
become a railing prophet. Though thou and all the rest of you
would see me hanged, yet I shall live to burn, yea, and I will burn
all the sort of you that come into my hands, that will not worship the
blessed sacrament of the altar, for all thy prattling : and so he went
his way.
Then Roger Holland began to exhort his friends to repentance,
and think well of them that sufTcred for the testimony of the gospel,
and with that the bishop came back, charging tlie keeper that no
man should speak to them without his license, and if they did, they
would be committed to prison. In the mean time Henry Pond and
Roger spake still unto the people, exhorting them to stand firm in the
truth : adding moreover, that God would shorten these cruel and evil
days for his elect's sake.
The day they suffered, a proclamation was made, that none should
be so bold as to speak or talk any word unto them, or receive any
thing of them, or to touch them, upon pain of im])risonment, without
452
BOOK OP MARTYRS.
either bail or mainprize ; with other cruel threatening words, con-
tained in the same proclamation. Notwithstanding, the people cried
out desiring God to strengthen them ; and they likewise still prayea
for the people, and the restoring of the word. At length, Roger,
embracing the stake and the reeds, said these words :
" Lord, I most humbly thank thy Majesty, that thou hast called
me from the state of death, unto the light of thy heavenly word, and
now unto the fellowship of thy saints, that I may sing and say, Holy,
holy, holy, Lord God of Hosts. And, Lord, into thy hands I commit
my spirit. Lord, bless these thy people, and save them from idola-
try." And so he ended his life, looking up unto heaven, praying to,
and praising God, with the rest of his fellow-saints. For whose joy-
ful constancy the Lord be praised.
Scourging of Thomas Hinshaw, by Bonner
When Bishop Bonner found that his examinations, persuasions,
threats, and imprisonments, were to no purpose with Thomas Hin-
shaw, one of those who had been apprehended at Islington, he took
him to Fulham, where, immediately after his coming, he was set in
the stocks, remaining there all the first night, with no other refresh-
ment than bread and water.
The next morning the bishop came and examined him himself,
and perceiving no yielding in his mind, he sent Mr. Harpsfield to
talk with him ; who, after a long dispute, at last fell into a passion,
calling Hinshaw " peevish boy," and asking him " whether he
thought he went about to damn his soul, or no V &c. To all this
Hinshaw answered, " That he was persuaded that they laboured to
maintain their dark and devilish kingdom, and not for any love of
truth." Harpsfield, being greatly incensed, told the bishop of this ;
who was thereat in as great a rage as himself, and, although scarce
able to speak for anger, cried out, " Dost thou answer my archdea-
con so, thou naughty boy ? I shall handle thee well enough, be as-
sured." He then sent for a couple of rods, and causing HinshaAv to
kneel against a long bench in an arbour in his garden, severely scour-
ged him, with his own hands, till he was compelled to desist from
fatigue.
After this scourging, Hinshaw was several times examined : and
at last being brought before the bishop, in his chapel at Fulham, arti-
cles were exhibited against him, which the young man denied, and
would not affirm, or consent to any of their interrogatories.
Being remanded to prison, about a fortnight after, he fell sick of an
ague, whereupon he was delivered, after much entreaty, to his mas-
ter, Martin Pugson, in St. Paul's churchyard ; for the bishop thought
he was more likely to die than to live ; indeed his sickness continued
a twelve month or more, so that in the mean time Queen Mary died.
He shortly after recovered his health, and thus escaped the death de-
signed for him by the persecutors.
Scourging of John Willes, by Bonner.
We have an account of another person who was also scourged by
Bonner: he was named John Wilfes, " a right faithful, ahd true ho-
nest man in all his dealings and conditions." He had been apprehend-
ed at Islington, with the company before-mentioned, and being com-
SCOURGING OF JOHN WILLES. 453
mitted to the coal-house, with Thomas Hinsliaw, remained one night
there in the stocks.
The account then goes on to state that, " from tlie coal-house he
was sent to Fulham, where he, with the said Ilinshaw, remained eight
or ten days in the stocks ; during which time he sustained divers con-
flicts with the said Bonner, who had him often in examination, urging
him, and with a stick which he had in his hand, often rapping him on
the head, and flirting him under the chin, and on the ears, saying he
looked down like a thief. Moreover, after he had essayed all man-
ner of ways to make him recant, and could not, at length taking him
to his orchard, there within a little arbour, with his own hands beat
him first with a willow rod, and that being worn well nigh to the
stumps, he called for a birch rod, which a lad brouglit out of his
chamber. The cause why he so beat him was this: Bonner asked
him when he had crept to the cross. He answered. Not since he
came to years of discretion, neither would, though he should be torn
by wild horses. Then Bonner desired him 10 make a cross on his
forehead, which he refused to do. Whereupon he had him imme-
diately to his orchard, and there calling for rods, showed his cruelty
upon him, as he had done upon Thomas liinshaw.
" This done, he had him immediately to the parish church of Ful-
ham, with the said Thomas Kinshaw, and Robert Willes ; to whom
there, being severally called before him, he ministered certain arti-
cles, asking if he would subscribe to the same. To which he made
his answer according to his conscience, denying them all, except one
article, which was concerning King Edward's service in English.
Shortly after this beating, Bonner sent a certain old priest lately come
from Rome, to him in prison, to conjure out the evil spirit from him,
who laying his hand upon his head, began vv^ith certain words pro-
nounced over him, to conjure as he had been wont before to do.
Willes marvelling at what the old man was about, said, I trust no evil
spirit is in me ; and laughed him to scorn.
" As this John Willes was divers times called before Bonner, so
much communication passed between them as is too tedious to recite.
It is enough to make the reader laugh to see the blind and unsavoury
reasons with which that bishop endeavoured to delude the ignorant,
some of which were in the following manner : Bonner going about
to persuade Willes not to meddle with matters of scripture, but ra-
ther to believe other men's teaching, who had more skill in the same,
asked him if he did believe the scripture : Yea, said he, that I do.
Then (quoth the bishop) St. Paul saith. If the man sleep, the woman
is at liberty to go to another man. If thou wert asleep, having a wife,
wouldst thou be content that thy wife should take to another man ?
And yet this is the scripture.
" Also, if thou wilt believe Luther, Zuinglius, and such, then thou
canst not go right ; but if thou wilt believe me, &c. thou canst not
srr ; and if thou shouldst err, yet thou art in no danger, thy blood
should be required at our hands. And if thou shouldst go to a far
country, and meet with a fatherly man, as I am, (these were his words,)
and ask the way to the city, and he should say, This May, and thou
wilt not believe him, but follow Luther, and other heretics of late days,
and go a contrary way, how wilt thou come to the place thou askesl
for ? So if thou wilt not believe me, but follow the leading of other
454 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
heretics, thou shalt be brought to destruction, and burn both body anO
soul.
" As truly as thou seest the boaies of them in Smithfield burnt, so
truly their souls do burn in hell, because they err from the true church.
" Oft times speaking to the said John Willes, he would say, they
call me bloody Bonner. A vengeance on you all ! I would fain be
rid of you, but you have a delight in burning. But if I might have
my will, I would sew up your mouths, and put you in sacks and
drown you.
" The same day that he was delivered, Bonner came to the stocks
where he lay, and asked him how he liked his lodging, and his fare.
" Well, (said Willes,) if it would please God, I might have a little
straw to lie or sit upon.
" Then (said Bonner) thou wilt show no token of a Christian man.
And upon this his wife came in unknown to him, being very great
with child, every hour expecting her labour, and entreated the bishop
for her husband, saying, that she would not go from thence, but that
she would there stay, and be delivered in the bishop's house, unless
she had her husband with her. How sayest tl>ou (quoth Bonner to
Willes,) if thy wife miscarry, or thy child, or children, if she be with
one or two, should perish, the blood of them would be required at thy
hands. Then to this agreement he came, that she should hire a bed
in the town of Fulham, and her husband should go home with her the
morrow after, upon this condition, that his kinsman there present (one
Robert Rouse) should bring the said Willes to his house at St. Paul's
the next day.
" To which Willes would not agree, but insisted upon going then.
At length, his wife being importunate for her husband, and Bonner
seeing she would not stir without him, fearing belike the rumour that
night come upon his house thereb3% and also probably fearing to bo
troubled with a lying-in-woman, bade Willes make a cros.s, and say,
In nomine Patris, et Filil, et Spiritus Sancti, Amen.
" Then Willes began to say, in the name of the Father, and of the
Son, and of the Holy Ghost, amen. No, no, (saith Bonner,) say it
me in Latin. Willes understanding the matter of that Latin to be
good, said the same, and so went home with his wife, his aforesaid
kinsman being charged to bring him the next day to St. Paul's ; else,
said Bonner, if thou dost not bring him, thou art a heretic as well as
he. Notwithstanding, the charge being no greater, his kinsman did
not bring him, but he, of his own accord, came to the bishop within a
few days after, where he put to him a certain writing in Latin, to sub-
scribe unto, containing, as it seemed to him, no great matter, that he
needed greatly to stick at, although, what the bill was, he could not
certainly tell ; so he subscribed to the bill, and returned home. And
thus much concerning the twenty-two taken at Islington."
Svffcrings and Martyrdom of Elizabeth Prest.
This poor woman was the wife of a labouring man, and lived at a
small village near the town of Launceston, in Cornwall. Her hus-
band, and three children, were zealous papists, and she would fre-
quently rebuke them for their superstition ; but her husband being a
morose man, forced her sometimes to go to church, to follow in pro-
cession, and to conform to the Romish ceremonies.
ELIZABETH PREST. 465
Being greatly afflicted at the thoughts of doing that which was so
much against her conscience, she prayed to God for his assistance,
took courage, and left her husband and family.
For some time she travelled from one place to another, maintain-
ing herself by labour and spinning. But, at length, slie returned to
lier husband ; a few days after which she was accused of heresy by
some of her neighbo-n-s, and being apprehended, was sent to Exeter,
to be examined by Dr. Troublevile, then bishop of that see.
The following account of what passed at her examination, and sub-
sequently, was given by some persons who were at that time residing
at Exeter.
Bishop. Thou foolish woman, I hear say that thou hast spoken
certain words against the most blessed sacrament of the altar, the
body of Christ. Fie, for shame ! thou art an unlearned person, and
a woman ; wilt thou meddle with such high matters, which all the
doctors of the world cannot define ? Wilt thou talk of such high mys-
teries? Keep thy work, and meddle with that thou hast to do. It is
no woman's matter, at cards and tow to be spoken of. And if it be
as I am informed, thou art worthy to be burned.
Woman. My lord, 1 trust your lordship Avill hear me speak.
Bishop. Yea, m.arry, for that cause I sent for you.
Woman. I am a poor woman, and doth live by my hands, getting
a penny truly, and of what I get, I give part to the poor.
Bishop. That is well done. Art thou not a man's wife ?
And here the bishop entered into conversation about her husband.
To whom she answered again, declaring that she had a husband and
children, and had them not. So lorg as she was at liberty, she re
fused neither husband nor children , but now, standing here as I do,
said she, in the cause of Christ and his trutli, where I must either for
sake Christ, or my husband, I am contented to stick only to Christ,
my heavenly spouse, and renounce the other.
And here she making mention of the words of Christ, " He that
leaveth not father or mother, sister or brother, husband," &c. the
bishop inferred, that Christ spake that of the holy martyrs, who died
because they would not sacrifice to the false gods.
Wo?nan. Surely, sir, and I will rather die than I will do any wor-
ship to that idol, which with your mass you make a god.
Bishop. What, heretic ! will you say that the sacrament of the altar
is a foul idol ?
Woman. Yes, truly, there never was such an idol as your sacra-
ment is made by your priests, and commanded to be worshij)ped of
all men, with many fond fantasies, where Christ did command it to be
eaten and drank in remembrance of his most blessed passion for our
redemption.
Bishop. See this prattling woman ! Doot thou not hear that Christ
did say over the bread, " This is my body," and over the cup, " This
is my blood ?"
Woman. Yes, forsooth, he said so, but he meant that it is his body
and blood, not carnally, but sacramentally.
Bishop. Lo, she hath heard prating among these new preachers, or
heard some peevish book. Alas, poor woman, thou art deceived.
Woman.- No, my lord, what I have learned was of godly preach-
ers, and of godly books which I have heard read. And if you will
456 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
give me leave, I will declare a reason why I. will not worship the sa-
crament.
Bishop. Marry, say on, I am sure it will be goodly gear.
Woman. Truly such gear as I will lose this poor life of mine for.
Bishop. Then you will be a martyr, good wife.
Woman. Indeed, if the denyhig to worship that bready god be my
martyrdom, I will suffer it with all my heart.
Bishop. Say thy mind.
Woman. You must bear with me, a poor woman.
Bishop. So I will.
Woman. I will demand of you, whether you can deny your creed,
which doth say, Thut Christ doth perpetually sit at the right hand of
his Father, both body and soul, until he come again ; or whether he
be there in heaven our Advocate, and to make prayer for us unto God
his Father? If it be so, he is not here on earth in a piece of bread.
If he be not here, and if he do not dwell in temples made with hands,
but in heaven, what, shall we seek him here? If he did affer his
body once for all, why make you a new oflering ? If with once offering
he made all perfect, why do you with a false offering make all imper-
fect? If he be to be worshipped in spirit and in truth, why do you
worship a piece of bread ? If he be eaten and drank in faith and truth,
if his flesh be not profitable to be among us, why do you say you make
his flesh and blood, and say it is profitable for body and soul ? Alas, I
am a poor woman, but rather than I will do as you, I would live no
longer. I have said, sir.
Bishop. I promise you, yon are a jolly protestant. I pray you, in
what schools have you been brought up ?
Woman. I have upon the Sundays visited the sermons, and there
have I learned such things as are so fixed in my breast, that death
shall not separate them.
Bishop. O foolish woman, who will waste his breath upon thee,
or such as thou art? But how chanceth it that thou wentest away
from thy husband ? if thou wert an honest woman, thou wouldst not
have left thy husband and children, and run about the country like a
fugitive.
Woman. Sir, I laboured for my living; and as my master Christ
counselleth me, when I was persecuted in one city, I fled into another.
Bishop. Who persecuted thee ?
Woman. My husband and my children. For when I would have
them to leave idolatry, and to worship God in heaven, he would not
hear mc, but he with his children rebuked me, and troubled me. I
fled not for whoredom, nor for theft, but because I would be no par-
taker with him and his, of that foul idol the mass; and wheresoever I
was, as oft as I could, I made excuses not to go to the popish church.
Bishop. Belike then you are a good housewife, to fly from your
husband and the church.
Woman. My housewifery is but small ; but God give mc grace to
go to the true church.
Bishop. The true church, what dost thou mean ?
Woman. Not your popish church, full of idols and abominations,
but where two or three are gathered together in the name of God, to
that church will I go as long as I live.
ELIZABETH PREST. 457
Bishop. Belike then you have a church of your own. Well, let
this mad woman be put down to prison till we send for her husband.
Wo7iiaji. No, I have but one husband, who is here already in this
city, and in prison Avith me (from whom I will never dejjart.) And
so their communication, for that time, brake ofl". Blackstone and
others persuaded the bishop that she was not in her right senses,
(which is no new thing for the wisdom of God to appear foolishness
to the carnal men of this world,) and therefore they consulted toge-
ther, that she should have liberty to go at large. So the keeper of the
bishop's prison had her home to his house, where she fell to spinninT
and carding, and did work as a servant in the said keeper's house, and
she went about the city Avhen and where she pleased; and many pet/
pie took great delight in talking with her : and all her discourse was
about the sacrament of the altar, which of all things they could least
abide.
Then her husband was sent for, but she refused to go home with
him, with the blemish of the cause and religion, in defence whereof
she there stood before the bishop and the priests. Then divers of the
priests endeavoured to persuade her to leave her " wicked opinion"
about the sacrament oi the altar, the natural body and blood of our
Saviour Christ. But she made them answer, that it was nothing but
very bread and wine, and that they might be ashamed to say, that a
piece of bread should be turned by a man into the natural body of
Christ, which bread doth corrupt, and mice ortentimes do eat it, and
it doth moidd, and is burned : God's body vv'Jl not be so handled, nor
kept in prison, or boxes, or aumbries. Let it be your god, it shall not
be mine ; for my Saviour sitteth on the right hand of God, and doth
pray for me. And to make that sacramental or significative bread in-
stituted for a remembrance, the very body of Christ, and to worship it,
is very foolishness and devilish deceit.
Now truly, said they, the devil hath deceived thee.
No, said she, I trust the living God hath opened mine eyes, and
caused me to understand the right use of the blessed sacrament, which
the true church doth use, but the false church doth abuse.
Then stepped forth an old friar, and asked her what she said of the
holy pope.
I say, said she, that he is antichrist, and the devil.
Then they all laughed.
Nay, said she, you have more need to weep than to laugh, and to
be sorry that ever you were born, to be the chaplains of that whore of
Babylon. I defy him and all his falsehood ; and get you away from
me, you do hut trouble my conscience. You would have me follow
your doings ; I will first lose my life. I pray you depart.
Why, tnou foolish woman, said they, we come to thee for thy profit
and soul's health.
O Lord God ! said she, what profit ariseth by you, that teach no-
thing but lies for truth ? how save you souls, when you preach nothing
but damnable lies, and destroy souls ?
How provest thou that, said they.
Do yo,u not damn your souls, said she, when you teach the people
to worship idols, stocks, and stones, the works of men's hands ? and
to w^orship a false god of your own making of a piece of bread, and
teach that the pope is God's vicar, and hath poMer to forgive sins?
458 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
and lliat there is a purgatory, when God's Son hath by his passion
purged all? and say, you make God, and sacrifice him, when Christ's
body was a sacrifice once for all f Do you not teach the people to
number their sins in your ears, and say they be damned, if tliey con-
fess not all ; when God's word saith, who can number his sins ? Do
you not promise them trentals and dirges, and masses for souls, and
sell your prayers for money, and make them buy pardons, and trust
to such foolish inventions of your own imaginations? Do you not
altogether against God ? Do you not teach us to pray upon beads,
and to pray unto saints, and say they can pray for us ? Do you not
make holy water, and holy bread, to fray* devils ? Do you not a
thousand more abominations ? And yet you say, you come for my
profit, and to save my soul. No, no, One hath saved me. Farewell,
you with your salvation. Much other talk there was be-tween her
and them, which were too tedious to express.
In the month's liberty which was granted her by the bishop, as is
before mentioned, she went into St. Peter's church, and there found
a cunning Dutchman that had made new noses to certain fine images
which were disfigured in King Edward's time ; to whom she said,
what a madman art thou to make them new noses, which within a
iew days shall all lose their heads ? The Dutchman accused her, and
laid it hard to her charge. And she said unto him, thou art accursed,
and so are thy images. Then she was sent for, and clapped fast, and
from that time she had no liberty.
During the time of her imprisonment, divers resorted to visit her,
some sent by the bishop, some of their own voluntary will ; amongst
whom was one Daniel, a great preacher of the gospel in the days of
King Edward, in those parts of Cornwall and Devonshire ; whom aflei
that she perceived by his own confession to have revolted from what
he preached before, through the grievous imprisonments, as he said,
and fear of persecution which he had partly sustained by the cruel
justices in those parts, earnestly she exhorted him to repent with Peter,
and to be more constant in his profession.
Moreover, there resorted to her a certain gentlewoman, the Avife of
one Walter Rauly, a woman of noble wit, and of a good and godly
opinion ; who, coming to the prison, and talking with her, she said
her creed to the gentlewoman; and when she came to the article,
he ascended, there she staid, and bid the gentlewoman to seek his
blessed body in heaven, not on earth, and told her plainly that God
dweileth not in temples made with hands, and the sacrament to be
nothing else but a remembrance of his blessed passion ; and yet, said
she, as they now use it, it is but an idol, and far wide from any re-
membrance of Christ's body ; which, said she, will not continue, and
so take it, good mistress. So that as soon as she came home to her
husband, she declared to him, that in her life she never heard a woman
(of such simplicity to look on) talk so godly, so perfectly, so sin-
cerely, and so earnestly ; insomuch, that if God were not with her,
she could not speak such things.
Also there came to her one William Ketle, and John his brother
not only brethren in the flesh, but also in the truth, and men in that
country of great credit, whose father, R. Kede, dl his life suflered
nothing but trouble for the gospel. These two good brethren were
♦ To frighten, or scare away.
ELIZABETH PREST. 4g9
present wilh her, both in the hall, and at the pnson, and (as they said)
they never heard the like woman, of so godly talk, so faithful or sq
constant.
Thus this good matron was by many ways tried, by hard imprison-
ment, threatenings, taunts, and scorns, called an anabaptist, a mad
woman, a drunkard, a runagate. She was proved by liberty to go
whither she woidd ; she was tried by flattery, with many fair pro-
mises ; she was tried with her husband, her goods, and children ; but
nothing could prevail ; her heart was fixed, she had cast anchor,
utterly contemning this wicked world.
Although she was of such simplicity, and unskilled in the knowledge
of this world, you could declare no place of scripture but she would
tell you the chapter; yea, she would recite you the names of all the
books of the Bible. For which cause one Gregory Basset, a rank
papist, said she was out of her wits, and talked of the scriptures as a
dog rangeth far off from his master when he walketh in the fields, oi
as a stolen sheep out of his master's hands, she knew not whereat, as
all heretics do ; with many other taunts, which she utterly defied.
At last, when they could, neither by imprisonment nor liberty, by
menaces nor flattery, win her to their vanities and superstitious doings,
then they cried out, an anabaptist, an anabaptist ! Then in one day
they brought her from the bishop's prison to the Guildhall, and after
that delivered her to the temporal power, according to their custom,
where she was by the gentlemen of the country exhorted yet to call
for grace, " and go home to thy husband," said they, " thou art an
unlearned woman, thou art not able to answer such high matters."
" I am not," said she; " yet with my death I am content to be a
witness of Christ's death."
During the time that this good woman was thus under these priest's
hands, she sustained many baitings and sore conflicts. But, in fine,
(after many combats and scoffing persuasions,) when they had played
the part of the cat with the mouse, they at length condemned her, and
delivered her over to the secular power.
Then the sentence being given, that she should go to the place
from whence she carae, and from thence to the place of execution,
there to be burned with flames till she be consumed ; she lifted up her
voice and thanked God, saying, " I thank tliee, my Lord, my God ;
this day have I found that which I have long sought." And yet this
favour they pretended after her judgment, that her life should be
spared, if she would turn and recant. " Nay, that I will not," said
slie ; " God forbid that I should lose the life eternal for .this carnal
and short life."
Then was she delivered to the sheriff, innumerable people behold-
ing her, and led by the officers to the place of execution, without the
walls of Exeter, called Soathernhay, where again these superstitious
priests assaulted her; and she prayed them to have no more .alk
with her, but cried still, " God be merciful to me, a sinner." And so
while they were tying her to the stake, thus still she cried, and would
give no answer to them, but with much patience took her cruel death,
and was with flames of fire consumed; and so ended this mortal life,
as constant a woman in the faith of Christ, as ever was upon the
earth.
400 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Martyrdom of John Corneford, Christopher Browne, John Uerst,
Alice Snoth, and Catherine Knight, {alias Tinley.)
These five persons were the last who suffered in Queen Mary's reign
for the testimony of that word for which so many had died before, and
gave up their lives meekly and patiently, suffering the violent malice
of the papists.
The matter why they were judged to the fire was, for believing
the body not to be in the sacrament of the altar, unless it be re-
ceived :
For confessing that an evil man doth not receive Christ's body:
That it is idolatry to creep to the cross, and that St. John forbid-
deth it, saying, " Beware of images."
For confessing that we should not pray to saints, because they be
not omnipotent.
For these and other similar articles of Christian doctrine, they
were committed to the flames. Notwithstanding the sickness of
Queen Mary, whereof they w»rc not ignorant, the archdeacon and
others of Canterbury, hastened to despatch the martyrdom of these
persons, before her death, which was daily expected, should deprive
them of the power.
In so doing this archdeacon proved himself more bigoted and blood-
thirsty than even Bonner, who, notwithstanding he had some at the
same time under his custody, yet did not hurry them to the stake, as
appears by several persons, who being then in his prison, were de-
livered by the death of Queen Mary.
We have not any particulars relative to the examinations, &.c. of
the five persons above named, but the following anecdotes of two of
them are given by the Martyrologist.
Catherine Tinley was the mother of one Robert Tinley, dwelling in
Maidstone, which Robert was in trouble all Queen Mary's time. To
whom, his mother coming to visit him, asked him how he took this
place of scripture which she had seen, not by reading of the scripture,
(for she had yet in manner no taste of religion.) but had found it by
chance in a book of prayers, "I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy ; your old men shall
dream dreams, and your young men shall see visions. And also upon
the servants and upon the maids in those days will I pour my Spirit,"
&.C. Which place after that he had expounded to her, she began to
take hold on the gospel, growing more and more in zeal and love
thereof, and so continued unto her martyrdom.
Among such women as were burned at Canterbury, it is recorded
of a certain maid, and supposed to be this Alice Snoth mentioned in
thi> story, or else to be Agnes Snoth, of whom an account is given in
a preceding page, that when she was brought to be executed, she be-
ing at Jhe stake called for her godfathers and godmothers. The jus-
tice hearhig her, sent for them, but they durst not come. Notwith-
standing the justices willed the messenger to go again, and to show
them that taey should incur no danger thereof.
Then they hearing that, came to know the matter of their sending
for. When the maid saw them, she asked them what they had pro-
•nised for her, and so she immediately rehearsed her faith, and the
DEATH OF aUEEN MARY. 461
commanilments of God, and required of thcin, if there were any more
that they had promised in her behalf; and they said, No.
Then, said she, I die a Christian woman, bear witness of me ; and
she was consumed in fire, and gave up her life jojfully for the testi-
mony of Christ's gospel, to the terror of the wicked, and comfort of
the godly, and also to the stopping of the slanderous mouths of such
as falsely do quarrel against the faithful martyrs, for going from that
religion wherein bv their godfathers and godmothers they were at
first baptized.
Condemnation of John Hunt and Richard White, who escaped the fire
by the Death of Queen Mary.
Several others were imprisoned in various places, whereof some
were but lately taken and not examined, some were examined but
not condemned, and others had been both examined and condemned,
but the warrants for their execution not being signed, they escaped.
Nay, of some the writ had been brought down for their burning, and
yet by the death of the chancellor, the bishop, and of Queen Mary,
happening about one time, they most happily and miraculously were
preserved and lived many years after. Of these were John Hunt,
and Richard White, imprisoned at Salisbury, of whom the history is
given as follows :
" These two good men had been in prison at Salisbury, and other
places thereabouts, more than two years ; were often called to exami-
nation, and manifold ways impugned by the bishops and priests. As
a specimen we shall give the examination of Richard AYhite, before
Dr. Capon, the bishop of Salisbury, Dr. Brookes, the bishop of Glou
cester, with Dr. Geoffrey, the chancellor, and other priests, Avith whom
first the bishop of Gloucester, who had the examination of him, be-
gan thus :
" On being interrogated for what cause he came hither. White an-
swered that he desired to know the cause, and referred to the Regis-
ter as to his examination at Marlborough. After some irrelevant mat-
ter, he was asked his opinion of the sacrament of the altar, when they
stumbled upon the very definition of a sacrament, a word first framed by
St. Augustine, and not to be found in the scripture ; and White de-
clared that Christ and his sacraments are alike, and that in both are
two natures; in the one a divine and human nature, in the oJier, an
external and internal ; the external being the element of bread and
wine, and the internal the invisible grace. He afterwards observed
that Christ, as God, is in all places ; but as man, only in one place
After some other questions equally appropriate, and answers not more
satisfactory to his persecutors, he was ordered away to the Lollards
Tower. They were sent for to be condemned by the chancellor, who
delivered them to the sheriff" in order to execution.
" The sheriff". Sir Anthony Hungerford, being advised by his son-
m-law, Mr. Clifford, of Bosco, (perhaps Boscomb,) in Wilts, deferred
their execution until he received the writ De Comhurendo ; and was
supported therein by Mr. Justice Brown, on which he left the town,
and the chancellor rode after him, to know why he had not seen them
executed.
" The sheriff" hearing the chancellor's words, and seeing him so
urgent upon him, told him again that he was no babe, which now was
4Q2 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
to be taught of him. If he had any writ to warrant and discharge
him in burning those men, then he knew what he had to do ; but if
you have no other writ but that which you signed, I tell you, I will
neither burn them for you, nor any of you all.
" Where note again, (good reader,) how by this it may be thought
and supposed, that the other poor saints and martyrs of God, such as
had been burned at Salisbury' .jefore, were burned belike without any
authorized or sufficient writ from the superiors, but only from the
information of the chancellor and of the close.
" Dr. Geoffrey, the chancellor, thus sent away from the sheriff,
went home, and there fell sick upon the same.
" The under slieriff to this Sir Anthony Hungerford. above named,
was one Mr. Michell, a godly man. So that not long after this came
down the writ to burn the above named Richard White and John
Hunt ; but the under sheriff said, I will not be guilty of these men's
blood ; and immediately burnt the writing, and departed his way.
Within four days after, the chancellor died ; concerning whose death
this Cometh by the way to be noted, that these two aforesaid, John
Hunt and Richard White, being at the same time in a low and dark
dungeon, suddenly fell to such a weeping, (but how they could not
tell,) that they could not pray one word ; the first word they heard in
the morning was, that the chancellor was dead, Avhich happened the
same hour when they fell into such a sudden weeping. Richard
White and John Hunt, after the death of the chancellor, the bishop
also being dead a little before, continued still in prison til) the happy
coming in of Queen Elizabeth ; and so were set at liberty."
Death of Queen Mary.
Happy are we to say, that the five persons mentioned above com-
pleted the number of human sacrifices in this island. They were
the last who fell victims to gratify the malevolent heart of Bonner
and the bigoted zeal of the unfeeling and releiitless Mary.
The queen's health had been long declining. She had, for some
time, been afliicted with the dropsy, the consequence of a false con-
ception, and of the improper regimen which she pursued. Her mala-
dy was greatly augmented by the anxiety of her mind, which was a
prey to the most painful reflections. The consciousness of being ha-
ted by her subjects ; the mortification of being childless ; the fear of
leaving her crown to a sister, whom she detested ; the approaching
ruin that threatened the catholic religion in England on her death ;
the indifference of her husband, (Philip of Spain,) who, never having
loved her, had now ceased to treat her even with the outward show of
affection, and had retired into his own country in disgust : all these
painful circumstances preyed upon her mind, and at length threw her
into a slow fever, of which she died on the 15th of November, 1558,
in the forty-third year of her age, and the sixth of her reign.
When we consider the bigoted zeal of this infatuated princess, and
the great number of valuable lives sacrificed through her arbitrary
mandates, we are naturally led to condemn her, first, as a fellow-
creature, and next, as a sovereign ; but more particularly in the lat-
ter character, because, as Providence had placed her in so distin-
guished a rank, she should have held out the arm of protection to her
subjects, instead of the sword of destruction. But the whole progress
SCOURGING BY THE PAPISTS. 463
of her reign does not furbish us with a single instance of merit in her,
either as a woman or a sovereign. On the contrary, all her actions
were of the most horrid and gloomy cast ; and the barbarities she
committed, during her reign, were such as to exceed description.
^Vith her the practice of religion became the trade of murder, and the
caie of her people the exercise of her cruelty; Avhile all her views
for their happiness, terminated in i)unishmcnts for their virtues. Her
bigotry infected every branch of government, and weakened every
bond of society. She had not any thing engaging, either in her per-
son, her behaviour, or her address ; her understanding was confined
within very narrow limits, and her temper v/as morose and gloomy ;
while obstinacy, bigotry, violence, malignity, revenge, and tyranny,
directed all her actions.
The death of Queen Mary revived the drooping spirits of the long-
oppressed protestants. They now anticipated the peaceful period,
when they should no longer be persecuted for their religion ; and
when their virtues would not expose them to the rage of ignorance
and bigotry.
Nor were they mistaken : Elizabeth was as strong an advocate for
the protestant religion, as her predecessor had been inveterate against
it. No sooner did she ascend the throne, than her attention was di-
rected to the protection of the professors of the reformed religion ;
but she did this in so wise and prudent a manner, as to prevent any
disturbance from the opposite party. By her distinguished manage-
ment, in a short time, she fixed the protestant religion on so solid a
basis, as to prevent its being again overthrown, and ever since her
reign, though various attempts have been made to destroy it, they
have all terminated in the defeat of the conspirators, and the ruin of
their projects. That they may always so term.inate. should be the
fervent prayer of every one who prefers purity to corruption, and the
decent worship of the reformed churches, to the frivolous ceremonies
and pompoMS nothingness of the Popish worship.
SECTION XI.
" A TREATISE CONCERNING THOSE THAT WERE SCOURGED BY THE PA-
PISTS, FOR THE CAUSE OF THE GOSPEL, AND THOSE WHO, AFTER
VARIOUS SUFFERINGS, ESCAPED."
The following " Treatise" concerning those persons who, though
not actually put to death, were yet persecuted and cruelly treated by
the enemies of the gospel, is so interesting, and so worthy of preser-
vation on many accounts, that we should consider our work very in-
complete, and we doubt not our readers would be of the same opi-
nion, were we to omit it ; we therefore give it entire, and wish to direct
particular attention to that part which relates to the marvellous pre-
servation of many of those whom the agents of Antichrist had
devoted to destruction; from this a consoling reflection may be drawn,
— that, however desperate our condition may seem in the eyes of the
world, there is One who can assist us ; and, however Ave may be sur-
rounded, " shot at, and sore grieved, by the archers," He who smole
464 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
the army of Sennacherib, as it were with a whirh\jind, will deliver us,
in his good time, from the malice of our enemies, and become the
tower of our refuge and the rock of our salvation.
After this bloody slaughter of God's saints and servants thus ended
and discussed, let us nov,^ proceed (by God's assistance) to treat of
such as for the same cause of religion have been, though not put to
death, yet whipped and scourged by the enemies of God's word, first
beginning with Richard Wilmot and Thomas Fairfax, who, about the
tune of Anne Askew, were miserably rent and tormented with
scourges and stripes, for their faithful standing to Christ and his truth,
as by the story and examination of them both may appear.
The scourging of Richard Wilmot and Thomas Fairfax.
After the first recantation of Dr. Crome, for his sermon which lie
made the fifth Sunday in Lent, at St. Thomas Acres, being the Mer-
cers' Chapel, his sermon was on the Epistle of the same day, written
in the tenth chapter to the Hebrews : wherein he very learnedly
proved by the same place of scripture and others, that Christ was the
only and sufficient sacrifice unto God the Father for the sins of the
whole world, and that there was no more sacrifice to be oflered for
sin by the priests, forasmuch as Christ had offered his body on the
cross, and shed his blood for the sins of the people, and that once for
all. For which sermon he Avas apprehended by Bonner, and brought
before Stephen Gardiner and others of the council, where he promised
to recant his doctrine at St. Paul's Cross, the second Sunday after
Easter. And accordingly he was there and preached, Bonner with
all his doctors sitting before him ; but he so preached and handled
Ills matter, that he rather verified his former saying, than denied any
part of that which he before had preached. For which the protes-
tants praised God, and heartily rejoiced.
Bishop Bonner and his champions were not at all pleased ihere-
with, but yet notwithstanding they took him home with them, and he
was so handled among the wolfish generation, that they made him
come to the Cross again the next Sunday.
And because the magistrates should now hear him, and be witness
of this recantation, which was most blasphemous, to deny Christ's
sacrifice to be sufficient for penitent sinners, and to say f\mt the sa-
crifice of the mass was good, godly, and a holy sacrifice, propitiatory
and available both for the quick and the dead : because (I say) that
they would have the nobles to hear this blasphemous doctrine, the
viperous generation procured all the chief of the council to be there
present.
^ Now to come to our matter : at this time, the same week, between
his first sermon and the last, and while Dr. Crome was in durance,
one Richard Wilmot, being apprentice in Bow-lane, of the age of li)
years, and sitting at work in his master's shop, in the month of July,
one Lewis, a Welchman, being one of the guard, came into the shop,
having things to do for himself.
One asked him what news at the court, and he answered, that the
old heretic, Dr. Crome, had recanted now indeed before the council,
and that he should on Sunday next be at St. Paul's Cross again, and
there declare it.
Then Wilmot sitting at his master's woik and hearing him speak
Scourging of Thomas Green. Page 473.
Murder of Ladet, a French Protestant, near Nismei,
in France^ in 1816. Page 575.
WILMOT AND FAIRFAX. 455
these words, and rejoicing in the same, began to speak unto him, say-
ing, that he was sorry to hear tliis news : for (said he) if Cromc
should say otherwise than he hath said, then is it contrary to the truth
of God's word, and contrary to his own conscience, which shall before
God accuse him.
Lewis answered and said, that he had preached and taught heresy ;
and therefore it was meet that he should in such a place revoke it.
Wilmot told him that he would not so say, neither did he hear him
preach any doctrine contrary to God's written word, but that he
proved his doctrine, and that sufficiently, by the scriptures.
Lewis then asked him, how he knew that?
Wilmot answered, by the scripture of God, wherein he shall find
God's will and pleasure, what he willeth all men to do, and what not
to do ; and also by them he shall prove and try all doctrines, and the
false doctrine from the true.
Lewis said, it was never well since the Bible was translated into
English ; and that he was both a heretic and a traitor that caused it
to be translated into English, (meaning Cromwell,) and therefore was
rewarded according to his deserts.
Wilmot answered again, What his deserts and offences were to his
prince a great many do not know, neither is it of any force whether
they do or no ; since he was sure he lost his life for offending his
prince, and the law did put it in execution ; adding, moreover, con-
cerning that man, that he thought it pleased God to raise hi:n from a
low estate, and to place him in high authority, partly unto this, that
he should do that which all the bishops in the realm yet never did, in
restoring again God's holy word, which being hid long before from the
people in a strange tongue, and now coming abroad among us, will
bring our bishops and priests, said he, in less estimation among the
people.
Lewis asked. Why so ?
Wilmot said. Because their doctrine and living is not agreeable to
his word.
Then said Lewis, I never heard but that ail men should learn of the
bishops and priests, because they are learned men, and have been
brought up in learning all the days of their lives. Wherefore they
must needs know the truth, and our fathers did believe their doctrine
and learning, and I think they did well, for the world was far better
then than it is now.
Wilmot answered, I will not say so : for we must not believe them
because they are bishops, neither because they are learned, neither be-
cause our forefathers did follow their doctrine. For I have read in
God's book, how that bishops and learned men have taught the people
'alse doctrine, and likewise the priests from time to time, and indeed
^hose people our forefathers believed as they taught, and as they
.bought, so thought the people. But for all this Christ calleth them
alse prophets, thieves, and murderers, blind leaders of the blind,
willing the people to take heed of them, lest they should both fall
nto the ditch.
Moreover we read, that the bishops, priests, and learned men have
seen commonly resistors of the truth from time to time, and have al-
ways persecuted the prophets in the old law, as their successors did
persecute our Saviour Christ and his disciples in the new law. We
30
46C BOOK OF MARTYRS.
must take heed, therefore, that we credit them no farther than God will
have us, neither follow them nor our forefathers otherwise than he
commandeth us. For Almighty God hath given to all people, as well
to kings and princes, as bishops, priests, learned and unlearned men
a commandment and law, unto which he willeth all men to be obedi
ent. Therefore if any bishop or priest preach or teach, or prince or
magistrate command any thing contrary to his commandment, we
must take heed how we obey them. For it is better for us to obey
God than man.
Marry, sir, quoth Lewis, you are a holy doctor indeed. By
God's blood, if you were my man, I would set you about your business
a little better, and not suffer you to look rpon books, and so would
your master, if he were wise. And with that in came his master, and
a young man with him, who was a servant to Mr. Daubney, in Wat
ling-street.
His master asked him what was the matter ?
Lewis said, that he had a knavish boy here to his servant, and how
that if he were his, he would rather hang him than keep him in his
house.
Then his master, being somewhat moved, asked his fellows what
the matter was 1
They said, they began to talk about Dr. Crome.
Then his master asked what he had said, swearing a great oath,
that he v.-ould make him tell him.
He said, that he trusted he had said nothing, wherev/ith either h(
or Mr. Lewis might justly be offended. I pray, (quoth Wilmot,) ask
him what I said.
Marry, (said Lewis,) this he said. That Dr. Crome did preach and
teach nothing but the truth, and how that if he recanted on Sunday
next, he should be sorry to hear it, and that if he do, he is made to do
it against his conscience. And more he saith, that we must not fol-
low our bishops' doctrine and preaching: for, saith he, they be hin-
derers of God's word, and persecutors of that ; and how Cromwell
(that traitor) did more good in setting forth the Bible, than all our
bishops have done these hundred years : thus reporting the matter
worse than it really was.
His master hearing this, was in a great fury, and rated him, saying,
that either he would be hanged or burned, swearing that he would'
take away all his books and burn them.
The young man (Mr. Daubney's servant) standing by, hearing this,
began to speak on his part unto Lewis, and his talk confirmed all the
sayings of the other to be true.
This young man was learned, his name was Thomas Fairfax
Lewis, hearing this man's talk as well as the others, went his way
in a rage to the court.
On the next morning they heard that the said Wilmot and Fairfax
were sent for to come to the lord mayor. The messenger was Mr.
Smart, the sword-bearer of London. They came before dinner to
the mayor's house, and were commanded to sit down and take dinner
in the hall ; and Avhen dinner was done, they were both called into
the parlour, where the mayor and Sir Roger Cholmley was, who ex-
amined them severally, the one not hearing the other.
The effect of their discourse was this : Sir Roger Cholmley said tc»
WILMOT AND FAIRFAX. 467
Wilinot, that my lord mayor and he had received a commandment
from the council, to send for him and his company, and to examine
them of certain things which were laid to their charge.
Then said Cholmley to him. Sirrah, what coimtryman art thou 1
lie answered, that he was born in Cambridgeshire, and in such a
town. Then he asked him how long he had known i)r. Crome. He
said, about two years. Then he called him a lying boy, and said that
he (the said \Mlmot) was his son.
The other said unto him, that was unlike, for that he never saw his
mother, nor she him. Cholmley said he lied. Wilmot said he could
prove it to be true. Then he asked him how he liked his sermon that
he made at St. Thomas Acres chapel, in Lent. He said that indeed
he heard him not. He said yes, and the other nay. Then said he
What say you to this sermon made at the Cross, the last day, heard
you not that?
Wilmot. Yes ; and in that sermon he deceived a great number of
people.
Cholmley. How so ?
Wilmot. For that they looked that he should have recanted his
doctrine that he taught before, and did not, but rather confirmed it.
Cholmley. Yea, sir, but how say you now to him ? For he hath
recanted before the council ; and hath promised on Sunday next to
be at the Cross again : how think you of that.
Wilmot. If he so did, I am the more sorry to hear it ; and said, he
thought he did it for fear and safeguard of his life.
Cholmley. But what say you ? Was his first sermon heresy or
not?
Wilmot. No, I suppose it was no heresy. For if it were, St. Paul's
epistle t(^the Hebrews was heresy, and Paul a heretic that preached
such doctrine ; but God forbid that any Christian man should so think
of the holy apostle ; neither do I so think.
Cholmley. Why how knowest thou that St. Paul wrote those
things that are in English now, to be true, whereas Paul never M'rote
English or Latin?
Wilmot. I am certified that learned men of God, that did seek to
advance his word, did translate the same out of the Greek and He-
brew into Latin and English, and that they durst not presume to alter
the sense of the scripture of God, and last will and testament of Christ
Jesus.
Then the lord mayor, being in a great fury, asked him what he had
to do to read such books, and said, that it was a pity that Jiis master
did suffer him so to do, and that he Avas not set better to work ; and in
fine said unto him, that he had spoken evil of my lord of Winches-
ter and Bishop Bonner, those reverend and learned fathers and coun-
sellors of this realm, for which his act he saw no other but he must
suffer, as was due to the same. And Sir R. Cholmley said, Yea, my
lord, there is such a sort of heretics and traitorous knaves taken now
in Essex, by my Lord Rich, that it is too wonderful to hear. They
shall be sent to the bishop shortly, and shall be hanged and burned all
Wilviot. I am sorry to hear that of my Lord Rich, for that he was
my godfather, and gave me my name at my baptism.
Cholmley asked him when he spake with him. He said, not these
tv/elve years.
468 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Cholmley. If he knew that you were such a one, he would do the .
like by you, and in so doing he should do God great service.
Wilmot. I have read the same saying in the gospel, that Christ said
to his disciples, " The time shall come," saith he, " that whosoever
killeth you, shall think that he shall do God good service."
Well, sir, said Cholmley, because you are so full of your scripture,
and so well learned, we consider you lack a quiet place to study in.
Therefore you shall go to a place where you shall be most quiet, and
I would wish you to study how you will answer to the council, of those
things which they have to charge you with, for else it is like to cost
you your best joint. I know my lord of Winchester will handle you
well enough, when he heareth thus much. Then was the officer called
in to have him to the Compter, in the Poultry, and the other to the
other Compter, not one of them to see another ; and thus they remain-
ed eight days. In which time their masters made great suit to the
lord mayor, and to Sir Roger Cholmley, to know their offences, and
that they might be delivered.
At length they procured the wardens of the company of Drapers to
labour with them in their suit to the mayor. The mayor went with
them to the council : but at that time they could find no grace at Win-
chester's hand, and Sir Antony BroAvne's, but that they had deserved
death, and that they should have the law.
At length, through much entreaty he granted them this favour,
that they should not die as they had deserved, but should be tied to a
cart's tail, and be whipped three m.arket days through the city.
Thus they came home that day, and went another day, and the mas-
ter and wardens of the company petitioned on their knees to have
this open punishment released, forasmuch as they were servants of so
worshipful a company, and that they might be punished in their own
hall, before the wardens, and certain of the company, which at length
was granted.
The next day they appeared before the masters in the hall, theii
own masters being present, where they were charged with heresy
and treason, for which, they were told, they deserved death, and
this was declared, with a long process, by Mr. Brookes, the mas-
ter of the company, declaring what labour and suit the mayor
and wardens had made for them, to save them from death, which
they (as he said) had deserved, and from open shame, which they
•should have had, being judged by the council to have been whipped
three days through the city, at a cart's tail, and from these two dan-
gers they had laboured to deliver them, but not without great trouble
and charge. For (said he) the company hath promised to the
council for this their mercy towards them, a hundred pounds ;
notwithstanding, \ve must see them punished in our hall, within
ourselves, for those their offences. After these, and many other
words, he commanded them to prepare themselves to receive their
punishment.
Then they were put asunder, and stripped from the waist up
ward, one after another, and were had in the midst of the hall,
where they were wont to make their fire ; there was a great ring of
iron, to which there was a rope tied fast, and one of their feet tied
fast to that.
Then came down two men, with vizors on their faces, and they beat
THOMAS GREEN. 469
Uiem with great rods, till the blood flowed out of their bodies. As for
Wilmot, he could not lie in his bed for six nights after, for Brookes
played the tyrant with them ; so that, with the pain and fear, they
were never in health afterwards, as the said Wilmot with his mouth
hath credibly informed us, and we can do no less than testify the
same.
Thus have we briefly declared this little tragedy, wherein we may
note the malice of the enemies at all times to those who profess
Christ, and lake his part, of what estate or degree soever they be,
according to the apostle's saying, " It is given unto you not only to
believe but also to suffer with him." To whom be honour and glory.
Amen
The Scourging of Thomas Green, Printer, loritten by his ou-n hand.
In the reign of Queen Mary, I, Thomas Green, being brought be-
fore Dr. Story, by my master, whose name is John Wayland, a prin-
ter, for a book called Antichrist, which had been distributed to cer-
tain honest men ; he asked me where I had the book, and said I was
a traitor. I told him I had the book of a Frenchman. Then he asked
me more questions, but I told him I could tell him no more. Then
he said it was no heresy, but treason, and that I should be hanged,
drawn, and quartered ; and so he called for Cluny, the keeper of the
Lollards' Tower, and bid him set me fast in the stocks ; and he took
me out, and carried me to the Coal-house, and there I found a French-
man lying in the stocks, and he took him out, and put a bolt and a
fetter on my right leg, and another on my left hand, and so he set
me cross-fettered in the stocks, and took the Frenchman away with
him, and there I lay a day and a night. On the morrow after, he
came and f-- lid, Let me shift your hand and your leg, because you shall
not be larae ; and he made as though he pitied me, and said, Tell m«j
the truth, and I will be your friend.
And I said, I had told the truth, and could tell no otherwise. Then
he put only my leg in the stocks, and so went his way, and there I re-
mained six day ji, and wculd come to no ansWvi..
Then Dr. Story sent for me, and asked me whether 1 would tell
him the truth, where I had the book. I said I had told him, of a
Frenchman. He asked me where I came acquainted with the
Frenchman, where he dwelt, and where he delivered me the book. 1
said, I came acquainted with him in Newgate, I coming to my friends,
who were put in for God's word and truth's sake, and the Frenchman
coming to his friends also, there we talked together, and became ac-
quainted one with another, and did eat and drink together there, with
our friends, in the fear of God.
Then Story scofl'ed at me, and said, Then there was brother in
Christ, and brother in Christ; and reviled me, and called me a he-
retic, and asked me if I had the book of him in Newgate. I said,
No ; and I told him, as I went on my business in the street, I met him,
and he asked me how I did, and I him also ; so falling into discourse,
ne showed me that book, and I desired him that he avouM let me
have it.
In this examination Story said, it was a great book, and asked me
whether I bought it, or had it given me. I told him I bought it. Then
he said, I Avas a thief, and had stolen my master's money. And I said.
470 BOOK OP MARTYRS.
a little money served, for I gave him but four pence, but I promised
him that at our next meeting I would give him twelve pence more.
Auii he said, that was boldly done, for such a book as spake both
treason and heresy.
^ Then Story required me to bring him two sureties and watch for
him that I had the book of, and I should have no harm. I made him
answer, I would bring no sureties, nor could I tell where to find them.
Then said he. This is but a lie ; and so called for Ciuny, and bid him
lay me fast in the coal-house, saying, he would make rne tell another
tale at my next coming ; and so I lay in the stocks, day and night,
but only when I eat my meat, and there remained ten days before 1
was called for again.
Then Dr. Story sent for me again, and asked if I would yet tell him
the truth ; I said, I neither could nor would tell him any other truth
than I had done already. And while I was there standing, there
were two brought, which I took to be prisoners.
Then Mrs. Story fell in a rage, and sware a great oath, that it were
a good deed to put a hundred or two of these heretic knaves in a
house, and I myself (said she) would set it on fire ! So I was com-
mitted to prison again, where I remained fourteen d?ys, and came to
no answer.
Then Story sent for me again, and called me into the garden,
where I found with him my lord of Windsor's chaplain, and two gen-
tlemen more, and he told them all what they had said and done.
They said, the book was a wondrous evil book, and had both treason
and heresy in it. They then asked me v/hat I said of the book. And
I said, I knew no evil by it.
At which words Storv chafed, and said he would hang me up by
the hand with a rope , anu said also, he wouid cut out my tongue,
and mine ears also from my head. After this they alleged two or three
things unto me out of the book. And I answered, I had not read the
book throughout, and therefore could give no judgment of it.
Then my lord of Windsor's chaplain, and the other two gentlemen,
took me aside and entreated me v^ery gently, saying, Tell us where
you had the book, and of whom, and we will save you harmless. I
Qiade them answer, that I had told all I could to Dr. Story, and be
gan to tell it them again ; but they said, they knew that already ; po
they left that talk, and went again with me to Story.
Then Story burdened me with my faith, and said I was a heretic.
Whereupon the chaplain asked me how I did believe ? Then I began
to rehearse the articles of my belief, but he bid me let that alone.
Then he asked me how I believed in Christ ? I made him answer,
that I believed in Christ, who died, and rose again the third day, and
sitteth on the right hand of God the Father.
Whereupon Story asked me mockingly. What is the right hand of
God ? I made him answer, I thought it was his glory. Then said
he, So they say all. And he asked me when he would be weary of
sitting there ! Then interfered my lord of Windsor's chaplain, ask-
ing me M'hat I said to the mass. 1 said, I never knew what it was,
nor what it meant, for I understood it not, because I never learned
any Latin, and since the time I had any knowledge, I had been
brought up in nothing but in reading of English, and with such men
THOMAS GREEN. 471
as have taught the same ; with many more questions which I cannot
rehearse.
Moreover, he asked me if there were not the very body of Chrisi,
flesh, blr jd, and bone, in the mass, after the priest had consecrated
it. An I made him answer, As for the mass, I cannot understand
it ; bu' in the New Testament I read, that as the apostles stood look-
ing a ^er the Lord when he ascended up into heaven, an angel said
to t' em, " Even as ye see him ascend up, so shall he come again."
Ar I I told them another sentence, where Christ saith, " The poor
shall you have always with you, but me ye shall not have always."
Then Mr. Chaplain put many more questioc^s to me, to which 1
made no answer. Among others, he brought Chrysostom and Si.
Hierome, for his purpose. To whom I answerei\ that I neither mind-
ed nor was able to answer their doctors, neither knew whether they
alleged them right, or no, but to that which is written in the New
Testament I would answ^er. Here they laughed me to scorn, and
called me fool, and said, they would reason no more with me.
Then Dr. Story called for Cluny, and bid him take me away, and
set me fast, and let no man speak with me. So I was sent to the
coal-house ; where I had not been a week, but there came in four-
teen prisoners : but I was kept still alone Avithout company, in a pri-
son called Salt-house, having upon my leg a bolt and a fetter, and my
hands manacled together Avith irons, and there continued ten days,
having nothing to lie on, but bare stones or a board.
On a time, whilst I lay there in prison, the bishop of London com-
ing down a pair of stairs on the backside undrest, in hose and dou-
blet, looked through the grate, and asked Avherefore I was put in, and
who put me in ?
I made him answer, that I was put in for a book called Antichrist,
by Dr. Story. And he said. You are not ashamed to der'ire where-
fore you were put in ! and said it was a very wicked book, and bid
me confess the truth to Story. I said, I had told the truth to him al-
ready, and desired him to be good unto me, and help me out of pri-
son, for they had kept me there a long time. And he said, he could
not meddle with it ; Story had begun, and he must end it.
Then I was removed out of the salt-house to g've place to two
women, and carried to the Lollards' Tower, and put in the stocks ;
and there I found two prisoners, one called Lion, a Frenchman, and
another with him : and so I was kept in the stocks more than a month,
both day and night, and no man suffered to come to me, or to speak
with me, but only my keeper.
Thus we three being- together, Lion, the Frenchman, sung a psalm
in the French tongue, and we sung with him, so that we were heard
down in the street, and tho keeper coming up in a great rage, sware
that he would put all in the stocks, and so took the Frenchman, and
commanded him to kneel down upon his knees, and put both his hands
in the stocks, where he remained all that night till the next day.
After this, I being in Lollards' Tower seven days, since my last be-
ing Avith Story, he sware a great oath that he Avould rack me, and
make me tell the truth. Then Story sending for me, commanded me
to be brought to Walbrook, Avhere he and the commissioners dined,
and by the Avay the keeper told me that I should go to the Tower to be
racked. So Avhen they had dined. Story called for me in, and so there
472 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
I stood before them, and some said I was worthy to be hanged for
having such heretical books. After I had staid a little while before
them, Story called for the keeper, and commanded him to carry me
to the Lollards' Tower again, and said he had other matters of the
queen's to do with the commissioners, but he would find another time
for me. Whilst I lay yet in the Lollards' Tower, the woman which
brought me the books over, was taken, and her books were put in the
Clink, in Southwark, by Hussey, one of the arches ; and I, Thcimas
Green, do testify before God, now, that I neither discovered the man
nor the woman of whom I had the books.
" Then I, lying in *he Lollards' Tower, being sent for before Mr.
Hussey, he required of me, wherefore I was put into the Lollards*
Tower, and by whom. To whom I answered, that I was put there by
Dr. Story, for a book called Antichrist. Then he made as though he
would be my friend, and said he knew my friends, and my father and
mother, and bid me tell him of whom I had the book, and said, Come
on, tell me the truth. I told him as I had told Dr. Story before.
Then he was angry, and said, I love thee well, and therefore I send
for thee, and looked for a farther truth ; but I could tell him no other ;
whereupon he sent me again to the Lollards' Tower. At my going
away, he called me back again, and said, that Dixon gave me the
books, being an old man, dwelling in Birch-in-lane ; and I said, he
knew the matter better than L So he sent me away to the Lollards'
Tower, where I remained seven days and more.
Then Mr. Hussey sent for me again, and required of me to tell him
the truth. I told him I could tell him no other truth than I had told
Dr. Story before.
Then he began to tell me of Dixon, of whom, he said, I had the
books, who had made the matter manifest before ; and he told me of
all things touching Dixon and the books, more than I could myself, in-
somuch that he told me how many I had, and that he had a sack fuF.
of them in his house, and knew where the woman lay better than my
self. Then I saw the matter so open and manifest before my face,
that it signified nothing for me to stand in it. He asked me what 1
had done with the books, and I told him I had but one, and that Dr.
Story had. He c did I lied, for I had three at one time, and he required
me to tell him of one.
Then I told him of one that John Beane had of me, being appren-
tice with Mr. Tottle. So he promised me before and after, and as he
should be saved before God, that he should have no harm. And 1
kneeling down upon my knees, desired him to take my blood, and not
to hurt the young man. Then he said. Because you have been so
stubborn, the matter being made manifest by others and not by you,
being so long in prison, tell me if you will stand to my judgment. I
said, Yea, take my blood, and hurt not the young man.
Then he told me, I should be whipped like a thief and a vagabond
and so I thanked him, and went my way with the keeper to the Lol-
lards' Tower, where I remained two or three days, and so was brought
by the keeper, Cluny, by the commandment of the commissioners, to
Christ's Hospital, some time the Gray-Friars, and accordingly had
there for that time the correction of thieves and vagabonds ; and so
was delivered to Trinian, the porter, and put into a stinking dungeon.
After a few days, I finding friendship, was let out of the dungeon,
DUTCHESS OP SUFFOLK. 473
and lay in a bed in the night, and walked in a yard by the dungeon in
the day-time, and so remained prisoner a month and more.
At length Dr. Story came, and two gentlemen with him, and called
for me, and I was brought before them. Then he said to the gentle-
men. Here cometh this heretic, of whom I had the book called Anti-
christ : and began to tell them how many times I had been before
him, and said, I have entreated him very gently, and he would never
tell me the truth, till he was found out by others. Then, said he. It
were a good deed to cut out thy tongue, and thy ears off thy head, to
make thee an example to all other heretic knaves. And the gentle-
men said. Nay, that were pity. Then he asked, if I Avould not be-
come an honest man : and I said, Yes, fori have offended God many
ways. Whereupon he burdened me with my faith ; I told him that I
had made him answer of my faith before my Lord Windsor's chaplain
as much as I could.
So in the end he commanded me to be stripped, he standing by me,
and called for two of the beadles and the whips to whip me ; and the
two beadles came with a cord, and bound my hands together, and the
one end of the cord to a stone pillar. Then one of my friends, called
Nicholas Priestman, hearing them call for whips, hurled in a bundle
of rods, which seemed something to pacify the mind of his ouelty ;
and they scourged me \vith rods. But as they were whipping of me,
Story asked me if I would go unto my master again, and I said nay.
And he said, I perceive now he will be worse than ever he was be-
fore ; but let me alone, (quoth he,) I will find him out if he be in Eng-
land. And so Avith many other things, which I cannot rehearse,
when they had done whipping of me, they bid me pay my fees, and go
my ways.
Dr. Story commanded that I should have a hundred stripes, but the
gentlemen so entreated, that I had not so many. Story saying, If I
might have my will, I would surely cut out his tongue.
Catherine, Dutchess of Suffolk.
Stephen Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, surmising the Lady Ca-
therine, baroness of Willoughby and Eresby, and dutcliess dowager
of Suffolk, to be one of his ancient enemies, because he knew he had
deserved no better of her, devised in the holy time of the first Lent in
Queen Mary's reign, a holy practice of revenge, first, by touching her
in the person of her husband, Richard Berty, Esquire, for whom he
sent an attachment (having the great seal at his devotion,) to the
sheriff of Lincolnshire, with a special letter, commanding most strictly
the same sheriff to attach the said Richard immediately, and without
bail to bring him up to London to his lordship. Mr. Berty being clear
in conscience, and free from offence towards the queen, could not
conjecture any cause of this strange process, unless it were some quar-
rel for religion, which he thought could not be so sore as the process
pretended.
The sheriff, notwithstanding the commandment, adventured only to
take a bond of Mr. Berty, with two sureties, in a thousand pounds, for
his appearance before the bishop on Good-Friday following ; at which
day Mr. Berty appeared, the bishop then being at his house by S-
Mary Overy's. Of whose pretence, when the bishop understood by a
gentleman of his chamber, he came out of his gallery into his dining-
474 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
chamber in a great rage, where he found a crowd of suitors, saying,
he would not that day hear any, but came forth only to know of Mr.
Berty, how he, being a subject, durst so arrogantly set at light two
former processes of the queen.
Mr. Berty answered, that notwithstanding my lord's Avords might
seem to the rest somewhat sharp towards him, yet he conceived great
comfort of them. For whereas he before thought it extremely hard
to be attached, having used no obstinacy or contumacy, now he ga-
thered of those words, that my lord meant not otherwise but to have
used some ordinary process : none, however, came to his hands.
Yea, marry, said the bishop, I have sent you two subpoenas to ap-
pear immediately, and I am sure you received them, for I committed
the trust of them to no worse a man than Mr. Solicitor ; and I shall
make you an example to all Lincolnshire for your obstinacy.
Mr. Berty denying the receipt of any subpoena, humbly prayed his
lordship to suspend his displeasure and the punishment till he had
good trial thereof, and then, if it please him, to double the pain for the
fault, if any were.
Well, said the bishop, I have appointed myself this day (according
to the holiness of the same) for devotion, and I will not farther trouble
myself, with you ; but I enjoin you in a thousand pounds not to depart
without leave, and to be here again to-morrow at seven of the clock.
Mr. Berty came at the time appointed, at which time the bishop had
with him Mr. Sergeant Stampford, to whom he moved certain ques-
tions of the said Mr. Berty, because Mr, Sergeant was towards the
Lord Wriothesley, late earl of Southampton, and chancellor of Eng-
land, with whom the said Mr. Berty was brought up. Mr. Sergeant
gave a very friendly account of Mr. Berty, of his own knowledge, for
the time of their conversation togetlier. Whereupon the bishop cau-
sed Mr. Berty to be brought in, and first making a false train, (as God
would, without fire,) before he would descend to the quarrel of reli-
gion, he assaulted him in this manner.
Bishop of Winchester. The queen's pleasure is, that you shall
make present payment of 4000 pounds, due to her father by duke
Charles, late husband to the duchess, your wife, whose dxecutor she
was.
Berty. Pleaseth it your lordship, that debt is installed, and is, ac-
cording to that instalment, truly answered.
Bishop. Tush, the queen will not be bound by instalments, in the
time of Rett's government : for so I esteem the late government.
Berty. The instalment was appointed by King Henry the Eighth :
besides, the same was, by special commissioners, confirmed in King
Edward's time ; and the lord treasurer being an executor also to the
Duke Charles, solely and wholly, took upon him, before the said com-
missioners, to discharge the same.
Bishop. If it be true that you say, I will show you favour. But of
another thing, Mr. Berty, I will admonish you, as meaning you well.
I hear evil of your religion, yet I can hardly think evil of you, whose
mother I know to be as godly a catholic as any within this land :
yourself brought up with a master, whose education, if I should disal-
low, I might be charged as author of his error. Besides, partly I
know you myself, and understand of my friends enough to make me
vour friend ; wherefore I will not doubt of you ; but I pray you, if 1
DUTCHESS OF SUFFOLK. 475
may ask the question of my lady, your wife, is she now as ready to set
up the mass as she was lately to pull it down, when she caused, in her
progress, a dog to be carried in a rochet, and called by my name? or
doth she think her lambs now safe enough, who said to me, when I
vailed my bonnet to her, out of my chamber window in the Tower,
that it was merry with the lambs now the wolf was shut up? Ano-
ther time, my lord, her husband, having invited me and divers ladies
to dinner, desired every lady to choose him whom she loved best, and
so place themselves ; my lady, your wife, taking me by the hand, for
my lord would not have her to take himself, said. That, forasmuch as
she could not sit down with my lord, whom she loved best, she had
chosen him whom she loved worst.
Of the device of the dog, quoth Mr. Berty, she was neither the au-
thor nor the allower. The words, though in that season they sounded
bitter to your lordship, yet if it would please you, without ofl'ence, to
know the cause, I am sure the one will clear the other. As touching
setting up of mass which she learned, not only by strong persuasions
of divers excellent learned men, but by universal consent and order,
these six years past, inwardly to abhor, if she should outwardly allow,
she should both to Christ show herself a false Christian, and to her
prince a masking subject. You know my lord, one by judgment
reformed, is more worth than a thousand transformed temporizers.
To force a confession of religion by mouth, contrary to that in the
heart, worketh damnation where salvation is pretended.
Yea, marry, quoth the bishop, that deliberation would do well, if
she were required to come from an old religion to a new ; but now
she is to return from a new to an ancient religion ; wherein, when
she made me her gossip, she was as earnest as any.
For that, my lord, (said Mr. Berty) not long since she answered a
friend of hers, using your lordship's speech, " That religion went not
by age, but by truth : and therefore she was to be turned by persua-
sion, and not by commandment."
I pray you, (quoth the bishop,) think you it possible to persuade
her?
Yea, verily, (said Mr. Berty,) with the truth : for she is reasonable
enough.
The bishop, in reply to this, said. It will be a marvellous grief
to the prince of Spain, and to all the nobility that shall come with him,
when they shall find but two noble personages of the Spanish race
within this land, the queen and my lady, your wife, and one of them
gone from the faith.
Mr. Berty answered, that he trusted that they should find no fruits
of infidelity in her.
The bishop then persuaded Mr. Berty to labour earnestly for the
reformation of her opinion, and ofilering large friendship, released him
of his bond from farther appearance.
The dutchess and her husband, from the daily accounts which they
received from their friends, understanding that the bisnop meant to
call her to an account for her faith, whereby extremity might follow,
devised how they might pass the seas by the queen's license. Mi.
Berty had a ready means : for there remained great sums of money
due to the old duke of Sufl!blk (one of whose executors the dutchess
was) beyond the seas, the emperor himself being one of those debtors
47 0
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Mr. Berty communicated this his purposed suit for license to pass
the seas, and the cause, to the bishop, adding, that he took this to be
the most proper time to deal with the emperor, by reason of likelihood
of marriage between the queen and his son.
I like your device well, said the bishop, but I think it better that
you tarry the prince's coming, and I will procure you his letters also
to his father.
Nay, said Mr. Berty, under your lordship's correction, and pardon
for so liberal speech, I suppose the time will then be less convenient ;
for when the marriage is consummated, the emperor hath his desire,
but till then he will refuse nothing to win credit with us*
By St. Mary, said the bishop, smiling, you guess shrewdly. Well,
proceed in your suit to the queen, and it shall not lack my helping
hand.
Mr. Berty found so good success, that he obtained the queen's
licence, not only to pass the seas, but to pass and repass them as often
as he should think proper, till he had finished his business beyond the
seas. He accordingly embarked at Dover, about the beginning of
June, in the first year of her reign, leaving the dutchess behind, who,
by agreement with her husband, followed, taking barge at Lion-key,
very early in the morning of the first of January ensuing, not without
some danger.
None of the persons who accompanied her, except Mr. Robert
Cranwell, an old gentleman whom Mr. Berty had provided for that
purpose, were made privy to her departure till the instant. She took
her daughter with her, an infant of one year old, and the meanest of
her servants, for she imagined the best would not adventure that for-
tune with her. They were in number four men, one a Greek born,
who was a rider of horses, another a joiner, the third a brewer, the
fourth a fool,* a kitchen maid, a gentlewoman, and a laundress.
As she departed her house called the Barbican, between four and
five o'clock in the morning, with her company and baggage, one At-
kinson, a herald, keeper of her house, hearing a noise, rose and came
out with a torch in his hand, as she was going out of the gate ;
wherewith being amazed, she was forced to leave a mailj with neces-
saries for her young daughter, and a milk pot with milk, in the same
gate-house, commanding all her servants to hasten forward to Lion-
key ; and taking with her only the two women and her child, as soon
as she was clear of her own house, perceiving the herald to follow,
she stept into the Charter-house just by. The herald coming out of
the dutchess's house, and seeing nobody stirring, nor assured (though
by the mail suspecting) that she was departed, returned in ; and while
he was searching the parcels left in the mail, the dutchess issued into
the streets, and proceeded on her journey, she knowing the place only
by name where she should take her boat, but not the way thither, nor
any that was with her. Likewise her servants being divided them-
selves, none but one knew the way to the said Lion-key.
So she appeared like a mean merchant's wife, and the rest like
mean servants, walking in the streets unknown, she took the way that
leads to Finsbury field, and the others walked the city streets as they
* A fool, by profession, was, in the sixteenth century, an almost indispensable part
of the retinue of the nobility of this, and other countries.
t A trunk, or portmanteau.
DUTCHESS OF SUFFOLK, 477
lay open before them, till by chance, more than discretion, they met
all suddenly together a little within Moregate, from Avhence they pass-
ed directly to Lion-key, and there took barge in a morning so misty,
that the steer's-man was loth to launch out, but that they urged him.
So soon as the day permitted, the council was informed of her depar-
ture, and some of them came forthwith to her house to inquire of the
manner thereof, and took an inventory of their goods, besides farther
order devised for search, and watch to apprehend and stay her.
The fame of her departure reached Leigh, a town at the Land's
End, before her approaching thither. By Leigh dwelt one Gosling,
a merchant of London, an old acquaintance of Cranwell's, Avhither
the said Cranwell brought the dutchess, naming her Mrs. White, the
daughter of Mr. Gosling, for such a daughter he had who never was
in that country. She there reposed herself, and made new garments
for her daughter, having lost her own in the mail at Barbican.
When the time came that she should take ship, being constrained
that night to lie at an inn in Leigh, (where she was again almost be-
trayed,) yet notwithstanding by God's good working she escaped that
hazard ; at length, as the tide and wind served, they went aboard, and
carried twice into the seas, almost into the coast of Zealand, by con-
trary wind were driven to the place from whence they came ; and at
the last recoil certain persons came to the shore, suspecting she was
within that ship ; yet having examined one of her company that was
on shore for fresh provision, and finding, by the simplicity of his tale,
only the appearance of a mean merchant's wife to be on ship-board,
he ceased to search any farther.
To be sliort, so soon as the dutcheae had landed in Brabant, she and
her women were apparelled like the women of the Netherlands with
hooks ; and so she and her husband took their journey towards
Cleveland, and being arrived at a town called Santon, took a house
there, until they might devise of some sure place where to settle
themselves.
About five miles from Santon, is a free town called Wesell, under
the said Duke of Cleves' dominion, and of the Hanse-towns, privileged
with the company of the Steel-yard, in London, whither divers Wal-
loons were fled for religion, and had for their minister one Francis
Perusell, then called Francis de Rivers, Avho had received some cour-
tesy in England at the dutchess'a hands. Mr. Berty being yet at San-
ton, practised with him to obtain a protection from the magistrates for
his and his wife's abode at Wesell ; which was the sooner procured,
because the state of the dutchess was not discovered, but only to the
chief magistrate, earnestly bent to show them pleasure, while this
protection was in seeking.
In the mean while, at the town of Santon was a rumour, that the
dutchess and her husband were greater personages than they gave
themselves forth ; and the magistrates not very well inclined to re-
ligion, the bishop of Arras also being dean of the great minster, or-
ders were taken that the dutchess and her husband should be examined
of their condition and religion. Which being discovered by a gen-
tleman of that country to Mr. Berty, he without delay taking no more
than the dutchess, her daughter, and two others with them, meant
privily that night to get to Wesell, leaving the rest of his family at
Santon.
478 BOOK OF T.IARTYR5.
After they had travelled one English mil<s from the town, there fc.
a mighty rain of continuance, whereby a long freest and ice, before
congealed, was thawed. But being now on the way, and overtaken
with the night, they sent their two servants (who only went with them)
to a village as they passed, to hire a car for their ease, but none could
be hired. At last, between six and seven o'clock of a dark night,
they came to Wesell, and repairing to the inns for lodging, after such
a painful journey, found hard entertainment : for going from inn to
inn, offering large sums for a small lodging, they were refused by all
the inn-holders, who suspected them to be persons of bad character.
Mr. Berty, destitute of all other succour of hospitality, resolved to
bring the dutchess to the porch of the great church in the town, and
so to buy coals, victuals, and straw for iheir miserable repose there
that night, or at least till by God's help he might provide her better
lodging. Mr. Berty at that time understood not much Dutch, and by
reason of bad weather and late season of the night, he could not
happen upon any that could speak English, French, Italian, or Latin.
Till at last going towards the church-porch, he heard two striplings
talking Latin, to whom he approached, and offered them two stivers
to bring him to some Walloon's house.
By these boys, and God's good conduct, he chanced upon the house
where Mr. Perusell supped that night, who had procured them the
protection of the magistrates of that town. At the first knock the
good man of the house himself came to the door, and opening it,
asked Mr. Berty what he was. Mr. Berty said, an Englishman, that
sought for one Mr. Perusell's house. The Walloon desired Mr. Berty
to stay a while, who went back, and told Mr. Perusell, that the same
English gentleman, of whom they had talked at supper time, had
?ent by likelihood his servant to speak with him. Whereupon Peru-
sell came to the door, and beholding Mr. Berty, the dutchess, and
their child, could not speak to them, nor they to him, for tears. At
length recovering themselves, they saluted one another.
Within a few days after, by Mr. Perusell's means, they hired a
very fair house in the town. The time thus passing forth, as they
thought themselves thus happily settled, suddenly a watch-word came
from Sir John Mason, then Queen Mary's ambassador in the Nether-
lands, that my Lord Paget had feigned an errand to the baths thai
way : and whereas the duke of Brunswick was shortly with ten en-
signs to pass by Wesell for the service of the house of Austria against
the French king, the said dutchess and her husband should be with
the same company intercepted.
Wherefore to prevent the cruelty of these enemies, Mr. Berty witK
his wife and child departed to a place called Wineheim, under the
Palsgrave's dominion ; where they continued till their necessaries be-
gan to fail them. At which time, in the midst of their despair, there
came suddenly to them letters from the Palatine of Vilva, that the
king of Poland was informed of their hard estate by a baron, named
Joannes Alasco, that was sometime in England, offering them great
courtesy. This greatly revived their spirits. Yet considering they
should remove from many of their countrymen and acquaintance, to
a place so far distant, they advised thereupon with one Mr. Carloe,
late bishop of Chichester, that if he would vouchsafe to take some
pains therein, they would make him a fellow of that journey. So
DUTCHESS OF SUFFOLK. 479
finding him agreeable, ihey sent with him letters of great thanks to
the king and palatine, and also a few principal jewels, (which only
they had left of many,) to solicit for them, that the king would vruch-
safe under his seal, to assure them of the thing which he so honoura-
bly by letters had offered.
That favour, by the forwardness of the Palatine, M'as as soon
granted as uttered. Upon which assurance the said dutchess and her
husband, with their family, began their journey, in April, 1557, from
the castle of Wineheim, where they before lay, towards Frankfort.
In which their journey, it Avhere too long here to describe what dan-
gers fell by the way, upon them and their whole company by reason of
the Landgrave's captain, who, under a quarrel, pretended for a spa-
niel of Mr. Berty's, set upon them in the highway wi-th his horsemen,
thrusting their boar-spears through the wagon where the women and
children were, Mr. Berty having but four horsemen along with him.
In which scuffle it happened that the captain's horse was slain under
him.
Whereupon a rumour was spread immediately through the towns
and villages about, that the Landgrave's captain should be slain by
certain Walloons, which exasperated the countrymen the more fiercely
against Mr. Berty, as afterward it proved. For as he was motioned
by his wife to save himself by the swiftness of his horse, and to reco-
ver some town thereby for his rescue, he so doing, was in worse
case than before ; for the townsmen and the captain's brother, sup-
posing no less but that the captain had been slain, pressed so eagerly
upon him, that he had been there taken and murdered among them,
had not he, (as God would have it) espied a ladder leaning to a win-
dow, by which he got into the house, and went up into the garret,
where, with his dagger and rapier he defended himself for a time :
but at length the burgomaster coming thither Avith another magis-
trate, Avho could speak Latin, he was advised to submit himself to the
order of the law. Mr. Berty knowing himself to be clear, and the
captain to be alive, was the more bold to eubmit himself to the judg-
ment of the law, upon condition that the magistrate would receive
him under safe conduct, and defend him from the rage of the multi-
tude. Which being promised, he willingly delivered up his weapons,
and peaceably surrendered himself into the hands of the magistrates,
and so was committed to safe custody till the truth of his cause could
be tried.
Then Mr. Berty wrote a letter to the Landgrave, and another to
the earl of Erbagh, dwelling about eight miles off, who came early
in the morning to the town, where the dutchess was brought in with
her Avagon, Mr. Berty also being in the same tOAvn under custody.
The earl, Avho had some intelligence before of the dutchess, after
he Avas come and had shoAved her such courtesy as he thought be-
longed to her estate and dignity, the toAvnsmen perceiving the earJ
behave himself so humbly to her, began to consider more of the mat-
ter, and farther understanding the captain to be alive, both they and
the authors of this stir drew in their horns, shrunk aAA-ay, and made
all the friends they couid to Mr. Berty and his lady, beseeching them
not to report their doings after the Avorst manner.
And thus Mr. Berty and his Avife, escaping that danger, proceeded
in their journey toAvard Poland, Avhere in conclusion they Avere quietlv
480 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
entertained by the king, and placed honourably in the earldom of the
said king of the Poles, in Sanogelia, called Crozan, where Mr. Bertyj
with the dutchess, having the king's absolute power of governmeni
over the said earldom, continued in honour, peace, and plenty, till the
death of Queen Mary.
Troubles and deliverance of Dr. Sands, afterwards Archbishop of
York.
Dr. Sands was vice-chancellor of Cambridge at the time that the
duke of Northumberland came hither, on King Edward's death, to
proclaim Lady Jane queen ; and, with others, being sent for to sup
with the duke, was required to preach on the morrow. On taking
the Bible in his hand, and shutting his eyes, he earnestly prayed to
God that it might fall open where a most fit text should be for him
to treat of. The Bible, as God would have it, fell open upon the first
chapter of Joshua, the three last verses, where he found so conve-
nient a place of scripture for that time, that the like he could not find
in the whole Bible. His text was thus : "And they answered Joshua,
saying. All that thou commandest us we will do, and whithersoever
thou sendest us, we will go. According as we hearkened unto Moses
in all things, so will we hearken unto thee : only the Lord thy God be
with thee, as he was with Moses. Whosoever he be that doth rebel
against thy commandment, and will not hearken unto thy w^ords, in all
that thou commandest him, he shall be put to death : only be strong
and of good courage."
Whosoever shall consider what was concluded by such as called
themselves the state, and likewise the auditory, the time, and other
circumstances, may easily see that this text most fitly served i ir the
purpose. And as God gave the text, so gave he such order and utter-
ance, as drew many tears out of the eyes of the greatest of them.
In the time of his sermon, one of the guard lifted a mass-book and
a grail up to him in the pulpit, which Sir George Harwood, with cer-
tain of the guard, had taken that night in Mr. Hurlstone's house, where
Lady Mary had been a little before, and there had mass. The duke,
' with the rest of the nobility, required Dr. Sands to put his sermon in
writing, and appointed Mr. Leaver to go to London with it, and to
put it in print. Dr. Sands required one day and a half for writing of
it. At the time appointed he had made it ready, and Mr. Leaver was
ready booted to receive it at his hands, and carry it to London. As
he \ras delivering it, one of the beadles, named Adams, came weeping
to him, and prayed him to shift for himself, for the duke was retired,
and Queen Mary proclaimed.
Dr. Sands was not troubled thereat, but gave the sermon written to
Mr. Layfield. Mr. Leaver departed home, and he went to dinner to
one Mr. More's, a beadle, his great friend. At the dinner Mrs. More
seeing him merry and pleasant, (for he had ever a man's courage, and
could not be terrified,) drank unto him, saying, Master Vice-chancel-
'or, I drink unto you, for this is the last time that I shall see you.
And so it was ; for she was dead before Dr. Sands returned out of
Germany. The duke that night retired to Cambridge, and sent for
Dr. Sands to go with him to the market-place to proclaim Queen
Mary. The duke cast up his cap with others ; but the tears ran down
his cheeks with grief. He told Dr. Sands, that Queen Mary was a
DR. SAINDS. 481
merciful woman, ami that he doubted noi tliercot*; declaring that he
had sent unto her to know her pleasure, and looked for a general
pardon. Dr. Sands answered, My life is not dear unto me, neithei
have I done or said any thing that urgelh my conscience. For that
which I spake of the state, I have instructions warranted by the sub-
scription of sixteen counsellors, neither can speech be treason ; neither
yet have I spoken farther than the word of God and the laws of the
realm do warrant me, what God will. But be you assured you shall
never escape death; for if she should save you, those that now shall
rule will kill you.
That night the guard apprehended the duke ; and certain grooms
of the stable were as busy with Dr. Sands, as if they would take a
prisoner. But Sir John Gates, who lay then in Dr. Sands's house,
sharply rebuked them, and drove them away. Dr. Sands, by the
advice of Sir John Gates, walked in the fields. In the mean time,
the university, contrary to all order, had met together in consultation,
and ordered that Dr. Mouse and Dr. Hatcher should repair to Dr.
Sands's lodging, and bring away the statute-book of the university,
the keys, and such other things as were in his keeping ; and so they
did : for Dr. Mouse being an earnest protestant the day before, and
whom Dr. Sands had done mucli for, was now become a papist, and
his great enemy. Certain of the university had appointed a congre-
gation at afternoon. As the bell rang to it, Dr. Sands came out of
the fields, and sending for the beadles, asked what the matter meant,
and required them to wait upon him to the schools, according to their
duty. So they did. And as soon as Dr. Sands, the beadles going
before him, came into the regent house and took his chair, one Mr.
Mitch, with a rabble of unlearned papists, went into a by-school, and
conspired together to pull him out of his chair, and to use violence
unto him. Dr. Sands began his oration, expostulating with the uni-
versity, charging them with great ingratitude, declaring that he had
said nothing in his sermon but what he was ready to justify, and their
case was all one with him : for they had not only concealed, but con-
sented to, that which he had spoken.
And thus while he reminded them how beneficial he had been to
the university, and their unthankfulness to him again, in came Mr.
Mitch with his conspirators, about twenty in number. One laid hands
on the chair to pull it from him ; another told him, that that was not
his place, and another called him a traitor. Whereat he perceiving
how they used violence, and being of great courage, groped to his
dagger, and had dispatched some of them as God's enemies, if Dr.
Bill and Dr. Blith had not fallen upon him, and prayed for God's sake
to hold his hands and be quiet, and patiently to bear tliat great oflered
wrong. He was persuaded by them, and after that tumult was ceased,
he ended the oration ; and having some money of the university's in
his hands, he there delivered the same every farthing. He gave up
the books, reckonings, and keys pertaining to the university, and withal
yielded up his office, praying God to give the university a better offi-
cer, and to give them better and more thankful hearts, and so repaired
home to his own college.
On the morrow after there came unto him one Mr. Gerningham,
and Mr. Thomas Mildmay. Gerningham told him, that it was the
queen's pleasure, that two of the guard should attend upon him, an*?
31
483
1300K OF MARTYRS.
that lie must be carried prisoner to the Tower of London with the
duke. Mr. Mildmay said, he marvelled that a learned man would
speak so unadvisedly against so good a prince, and wilfully run into
such danger. Dr. Sands answered, I shall not be ashamed of bonds ;
but if I could do as Mr. Mildmay can, I need not fear bonds : for he
came down in payment against Queen Mary, and armed in the field ;
and now he returned in payment for Queen Mary ; before a traitor,
and now a great friend ; I cannot with one mouth blow hot and cold
after this manner.
Upon this his stable was robbed of four very good geldings ; the
best of them Mr. Huddlestone took for his own saddle, and rode on
him to London in his sight. An inventory was taken of all his
goods by Mr. Moore, beadle for the university. He Mas set upon a
lame ho'rse that halted to the ground ; which thing a friend of his
perceiving, prayed that he might lend him a nag. The yeomen of
the guard consented. As he departed forth at the toAvn's end, some
papists resorted thither to jeer at him, and some of his friends tc
mourn for him. He came in the rank to London, the people being
full of outcries ; and as he came in at Bishopsgate, one like a milk-
woman hurled a stone at him, and hit him on the breast, with such a
blow, that he was like to fall off his horse ; to whom he mildly said.
Woman, God forgive it thee. Truth is, that that journey and
evil entreating so mortified him, that he was more ready to die than
to live.
As he came through Tower-hill, one woman standing at her door,
cried, Fie on thee, thou knave, thou traitor, thou heretic ! Whereat
he smiled. Look, the desperate heretic ! said she, and laughed at
this jeer. A woman on the other side of the street answered, saying,
Fie on thee, neighbour, thou art not worthy to be called a woman,
railing upon this gentleman whom thou knowest not, ncT the cause
why he is thus treated. Then she said. Good gentleman, God be thy
comfort, and give thee strength to stand in God's cause, even to the
end. And thus he passed through rough and smooth to the Tower,
the first prisoner that entered in that day, which was St. James's day.
The yeomen of the guard took from him his borrowed nag, and
what else soever he had. His man, one Quinting Suainton, brought
after him a Bible, and some shirts and such like things. The
Bible was sent in to him, but the shirts and such like served the
yeomen of the guard.
After he had been in the Tower three weeks, in a bad prison, he
was brought up into Nun's-Bower, a hotter prison, where was put
along with him Mr. John Bradford.
At the day of Queen Mary's coronation their prison door was set
open, ever shut before. One Mr. Mitchell, his old acquaintance,
who had been prisoner before in the same prison, came in to him, and
said. Master Sands, there is such a stir in the Tower, that neither
gates, doors, nor prisoners, are looked to this day. Take my cloak,
my hat, and my rapier, and get you gone ; you may go out of the
gates without questioning ; save yourself, and let me do as well as I
can. A rare friendship ! but he refused the ofier, saying, I know no
reason why I should be in prison ; and to do thus were to make my
self guilty. I will expect God's good will, yet must I think mysell
much obliged to you : and so Mr. Mitchell departed.
DR. SANDS 483
"While Dr. Sands and Mr. Bradford were thus in close prison
twenty-nine weeks, one John Bowler was their keejjer, a very per-
v^erse papist, yet by often persuading- of him, for he would give ear,
and by gentle using of him, at length he began to mislike popery, and
to favour the gospel, and was so persuaded in true religion, that
on a Sunday when they had mass in the chapel, he brought up a ser-
vice book, a manchet,* and a glass of wine, and there Dr. Sands mi-
nistered the communion to Bradford and to Bowler. Thus Bowler was
their son begotten in bonds. When Wyatt was in arms, and the old
duke of Norfolk sent forth with a number of men to apprehend him,
that room might be made in the Tower, for him and other of his ac-
complices, Dr. Cranmer, Dr. Ridley, and Mr. Bradford, were cast in-
to one prison ; and Dr. Sands with nine other preachers were sent
unto the Marshalsea.
The keeper of the Marshalsea appointed to every preacher a man
to lead him in the street ; he caused them to go far before, and he
and Dr. Sands came behind, whom he would not lead but walked fa
miliarly with him. Yet Dr. Sands was known, and the people every
where prayed to God to comfort him, and to strengthen him in the
truth. By that time the people's minds were altered ; popery began
to be unsavoury. After they passed the bridge, the keeper said to
Dr. Sands, I perceive the vain people would set you forward to the
fire. You are as vain as they, if you being a young man, will stand
in your own conceit, and prefer your own judgment, before that of so
many worthy prelates, ancient, learned, and grave men, as be in this
realm. If you so do, you shall find me a severe keeper, as one that
utterly disliketh your religion. Dr. Sands answered, I know my
years to be young, and my learning but small ; it is enough to know
Christ crucified, and he hath learned nothing who seeth not the great
blasphemy there is in popery. I will yield unto God, and not unto
man : I have read in the Scriptures, of many godly and courteous
keepers ; God may make you one ; if not, I trust he will give me
strength and patience to bear your hard usage. Then said the keep-
er. Are you resolved to stand to your religion ? Yes, quoth the doc-
tor, by God's grace. Truly, said the keeper, 1 love you the better for
it ; I did but tempt you ; what favour I can show you, you shall be
sure of, and I shall think myself happy if I might die at the stake with
you. ■ He was as good as his word, for he trusted the doctor to walk
in the fields alone, where he met with Mr. Bradford, who v/as also a
prisoner in the King's-Bench, and had found the same favour from hi?
keeper : he laid him in the best chamber in the house ; he would not
suffer the knight-marshal's men to lay fetters on him as others had.
And at his request, he put Mr. Sanders in along with him, to be his
bed fellow, and sundry times after he suffered his wife, who was Mr.
Sands' daughter, of Essex, a gentlewoman beautiful both in body and
soul, to resort to him. There was great resort to Dr. Sands, and Mr
Sanders ; they had much money oflered them, but they would receive
none. They had the communion there three or four times, and a
great many communicants. Dr. Sands gave such exhortation to the
people, (for at that time being young, he was thought very eloquent,)
♦ A loaf of fine white breac
484 BOOK OF MARTYRS
that lie moved many tears, and made the people abhor the mass, and
defy all popery.
When Sir* Thomas Wyat, with his army, came into South warli,
he sent two gentlemen into the Marshalsea to Dr. Sands, saying, that
Mr. Wyat would be glad of his company and advice, and that the
gates should be set open for all the prisoners. He answered, tell Mr.
Wyat, if this his rising be of God, it will take place ; if not, it will
fall. For my part, I was committed here by order ; I will be dis-
charged by like order, or I Avill never depart hence. So answered Mr.
Sanders, and the rest of the preachers, being there prisoners.
After that Dr. Sands had been nine weeks prisoner in the Marshal-
sea, by the mediation of Sir Thomas Holcroft, knight marshal, he was
set at liberty ; Sir Thomas sued earnestly to the bishop of Winches-
ter, Dr. Gardiner, for his deliverance, after many repulses ; but he
could not prevail, except Dr. Sands would be one of their sect, and
then he could want nothing. He wrung out of him at last, that if the
queen would grant him his deliverance, he would not be against it ; for
that was Sir Thomas's last request. In the mean time he had procured
two ladies of the privy chamber to move the queen in it ; who was
contented. if the bishop of W^inchester would like it. The next time
that the bishop went into the privy chamber to speak with the queen,
Mr. Holcroft followed, and had his warrant for Dr. Sands's remission
ready, and prayed the two ladies, when the bishop should take his
leave, to put the queen in mind of Dr. Sands. So they did, and the
queen said, Winchester, what think you of Dr. Sands, is he not suffi-
ciently punished ! As it please your majesty, saith Winchester.
That he spake remembering his former promise to Mr. Holcroft, that
he would not be against Dr. Sands, if the queen should like to dis-
charge him. Saith the queen, then, truly, we would that he were
set at liberty. Immediately Mr. Holcroft offered the queen the war-
rant, who subscribed the same, and called Winchester to put to his
hand, and so he did. The warrant was given to the knight-marshal
again. Sir Thomas Holcroft. As the bishop went forth of the privy
chamber door, he called Mr. Holcroft to him, commanding him not to
set Dr. Sands at liberty, until he had taken sureties of two gentlemen
of this country with him, each one bound in 500Z. that Dr. Sands
should not depart out of the realm without license. Mr. Holcroft im-
mediately after met with two gentlemen of the north, friends and cou-
sins to Dr. Sands, who offered to be bound in body, goods, and lands
for him. After dinner, the same day, Mr. Holcroft sent for Dr. Sands
to his lodgings at Westminster, requiring the keeper to accompany
him. He came accordingly, finding Mr. Holcroft alone walking in
the garden. Mr. Holcroft imparted his long suit, with the whole pro-
ceeding, and what effect it had taken, to Dr. Sands ; much rejoicing
that it was his good hap to do Iiim good, and to procure his liberty,
and that nothing remained, but that he Avould enter bonds witli his two
sureties, for not departing out of the realm. Dr. Sands answered, I
give God thanks., who hath moved your hearts to mind me so well, and
1 think myself most bound unto you. God shall requite, and I shall
* 111 old writers, knights are frequently mentioned indifferently, either by the title
of Sir or Mr. as may be seen in many instances in tliis work, and others of' the same
period.
DR. SANDS. 485
never be found unthankful. But as you luive dealt friendly with me,
I will also deal plainly with you. I came a freeman into prison; I
will not go forth a bondman. As I cannot benefit my friends, so will
I not hurt them. And if I be set at liberty, I will not tarry six days
in this realm, if I may get out. If, therefore, I may not get free forth,
send me to the Marshalsea again, and there you shall be sure of me.
This answer Mr. Holcroft much misliked ; he told Dr. Sands, that
the time would not long continue, a change would shortly come, the
state was but a cloud, and would soon shake away. And that his cou-
sin, Sir Edward Bray, would gladly receive him and his wife into his
house, where he should never need to go to church, and the Lady Bray
was a zealous gentlewoman, who hated popery. Adding, that he
would not so deal with him to lose all his labour. When Dr. Sands
could not be removed from his former saying, Mr. Holcroft said, see-
ing you cannot be altered, I will change my purpose, and yield unto
you. Come of it what will, I will set you at liberty : and seeing you
have a mind to go over sea, get you gone as quick as you can. One
thing I require of you, that while you are there, you write nothing to
me hither, for so you may undo me. He friendly kissed Dr. Sands,
bade him farewell, and commanded the keeper to take no fees of him,
saying, let me answer Winchester as I may.
Dr. Sands returning with the kee])er to the Marshalsea, tarried all
night, and on the morrow he gave a dinner to all the prisoners, to
which he invited his bed-fellow, and sworn stake fellow, if it had so
pleased God. When he took his leave, he said, Mr. Sanders, fare-
well, Avith many tears and kisses, the one falling on the other's neck,
and so departed, clearly delivered without exarrination or bond.
From thence he went to the King's Bench, and there talked with Mi.
Bradford, and Dr. Farrar, bishop of St. David's, then prisoners. Then
he comforted them, and they praised God for his happy deliverance.
He went by Winchester's house, and there took boat, and came to a
friend's house in London, called William Banks, and tarried there
one night. The next night he shifted to another friend's house, and
he heard that search was made for him.
Dr. Watson, and Mr. Christopherson, coming to the bishop of Win-
chester, told him that he had set the greatest heretic in England at
liberty, and one that had of all others most corrupted the university
of Cambridge, namely, Dr. Sands. Whereupon the bishop, being
chancellor of England, sent for all the constables of London, com-
manding them to watch for Dr. Sands, who was then within the city,
and to apprehend him, and whosoever of them should take him, and
bring him to him, he should have five pounds for his labour. Dr.
Sands suspecting the matter, conveyed himself by night to one Mr
Berty's house, a stranger who was in the Marshalsea '^risoner with
him awhile ; he was a good protestant, and dwelt in Mark-lane
There he was six days, and had one or two of his friends that repair-
ed to.him. Then he removed to one of his acquaintance in Cornhill ;
he caused his man Quinting to provide two geldings for him, minding
on the morrow to ride into Essex to his father-in-law, where his wife
was.
At going to bed he found that a pair of hose which he liad newly
bought were too long for him ; he desired the good woman of the
house to send for somebody that could cut them two inches shorter
486
BOOK OF MARTYKS.
The wife required the boy of the house to carry them to the next
tailor ; which he accordingly did ; and he chanced (or rather God so
provided) to go to tlie very person that first made them, whose name
was Benjamin, a good protostant in Birch-in-lane ; and the boy de
sired him to cut the hose. Said he, I am not thy master's tailor.
Said the boy, Because you are our next neighbour, and my master's
tailor dwelleth afar off, I came to you, being late in the night, for he
must put them on betimes in the morning. Benjamin took the hose,
and looking upon them, knew his handiwork, and said. These are not
thy master's hose, they belong to Dr. Sands, I made them for him in
the Tower. The boy confessed it to be so. Said he. Go to thy mis-
tress, pray her to sit till twelve o'clock, and then I will bring the hose
and speak with the doctor for his good.
At midnight the good wife of the house and Benjamin came to Dr.
Sands' chamber ; the good woman desired him not to be surprised at
their coming. He answered. Nothing can be amiss; what God .will,
that shall be done. Then Benjamin told him that he w^as the man
that made his hose, and that by good chance they now come to his
hands. God used the means, he might aamonish him of his danger,
and advised him how to escape it, telling him, that all the constables
of London, whereof he was one, watched for him, and some were so
greedily set, that they prayed him, if he took him, to let them have the
carriage of him to the bishop of Winchester, and he should have the
five pounds. It is well known (quoth Benjamin) that your man hath
provided two geldings, and that you intend to ride out at Aldgate to-
morrow morning, and there then you are sure to be taken. Follow
mine advice, and by God's grace you shall escape their hands. Let
your man Avalk all the day to-morrow in the street where your horses
stand, booted and ready to ride. The good man's servant of the
house shall take the horses, and carry them to Bethnal-green. The
good man shall be booted, and follow after, as if he would ride. I will
be here with you to-morrow about eight o'clock, it is both term and
parliament time, here we will break our fast, and when the streets are
full, we will go forth. Look wildly if you meet your brother in the
streets, shun him not, but outface him, and know him not. Accord-
ingly, Dr. Sands did, clothed like a gentleman in all respects, and
looked wildly, as one that had been long kept in prison out of the
light. Benjamin carried him through Birch-in-lane, and from one
lane to another till he came to Moregate. There they went forth un-
til they came to Bethnal-green, where the horses were ready, and
Mr. Hurlstone to ride with him as his man. Dr. Sands pulled on his
boots, and taking leave of his friend Benjamin, with tears they kissed
each other; he put his hand in his purse, and would have given Ben-
jamin a great part of that little he had, but Benjamin would take none.
Yet since that. Dr. Sands remembered him thankfully. He rode that
night to his father-in-law, Mr. Sands, where his wife was: he had not
been there two hours, but it was told Mr. Sands, that there were" two
of the guard which would that night apprehend Dr. Sands, and so
they were appointed.
That night Dr. Sands was guided to an honest farmer near the sea,
where he tarried two days and two nights in a chamber without com-
pany. After that he shifted to one James Mower, a shipmaster, Avho
dwelt at Milton-shore, where he expected wind for the English
PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 487
fl<;ft ready into Flanders. "While he was there, James Mower brought
to him forty or fifty mariners, to whom he gave an exhortation ; they
liked him so well, that they promised to die for it, before that he
shonld be apprehended.
The sixth of May, being Sunday, the wind served. He took his
leave of his host and hostess, and went towards his ship.
At the shore Dr. Sands met witli Mr. Isaac, of Kent, who had his
eldest son there, Avho, upon the liking he had to Dr. Sands, sent his
son with him, Avho afterwards died in his father's house in Frankfort.
Dr. Sands and Dr. Coxe were both in one ship, being one Cockrel's
ship, and were within the kenning, when two of the guard came thither
to apprehend Dr. Sands. They arrived at Antwerp, being bid to din-
ner by Mr. Locke. And at dinner time one George Gilpin, being se-
cretary to the English house, and kinsman to Dr. Sands, came to him,
and whispered him in his ear, and said. King Philip hath sent to make
search for you, and to apprehend you. Hereupon they lose from their
dinner in great haste, and went out of the gate leading toward Cleve-
land. They found a wagon, and hasted away, and came safe to Au-ts-
burg, in Cleveland, where Dr. Sands tarried fourteen days, and then
travelled towards Strasburgh, where, after he had lived one year, his
wife came to him. He fell sick of a flux, which kept him nine months,
and brought him to death's door. He had a child which died of the
plague. His wife at length fell into a consumption, and died in his
arms ; no man had a more godly Moman to his wife.
After this, Mr. Sampson went away to Emanuel, a man skilful in
Hebrew. Mr. Grindall went into the country to learn the Dutch
tongue. Dr. Sands still remained in Strasburgh, whose support was
chiefly from one Mr. Isaac, who loved him most dearly, and was ever
more ready to give than to receive. He gave him in that space above
a hundred marks, which sum the said Dr. Sands paid him again,
and by his other gifts and friendship showed himself to be a thankful
man. When his wife was dead, he went to Zurich, and there was in
Peter Martyr's house for the space of five Aveeks. Being there, as
they sat at dinner, word suddenly came that Queen Mary was dead,
and Dr. Sands was sent for by his friends at Strasburgh. That news
made Mr. Martyr and Mr. Jarret then there very joyful ; but Dr.
Sands could not rejoice, it smote into his heart thai ke should be called
to misery.
Mr. Bullinger and the ministers feasted him, and he took his leave
and returned to Strasburgh, where he preached ; and so Mr. Grindall
and he come over to England, and arrived in London the same day
that Queen Elizabeth was crowned.
Miraculous 'preservation of the Lady Elizabeth from extreme calamity
and danger in the time of Queen Mary, her sister.
When all hath been said and tcld, whatsoever can be recited touch-
ing the admirable working of God's present hand in defending and de-
livering any one person out of thraldom, never was there since the
memory of our fathers, any example to be showed, wherein the Lord's
mighty power hath more admiralty sliowed itself, to the glory of his
own name, to the comfort of all good hearts, and to the public felicity
of this whole realm, than in the miraculous escape of the Lady Eliza-
beth in the time of Queen Mary, her sister.
488 BOOK. OF MAKTYKS
Before she was crowned, Mary would go no whither, but would
have her by the hand, and send for Elizabeth to dinner and supper ;
but after she was crowned, she never dined or supped with her, but
kept her apart from her, <fec. After this it happened, immediately
upon the rising of Sir Thomas Wyat, that the Lady Elizabeth and
Lord Courtney were charged with false suspicion of Sir Thomas Wy-
at's rising. Whereupon Queen Mary, whether for that surmise, or
for what other cause I know not, being ofiiended with the said Lady
Elizabeth her sister, at that time lying in her house at Ashbridge,
the next day after the rising of Wyat, sent to her three of her coun-
sellors, to wit. Sir Richard Southwell, Sir Edward Hastings, then
master of the horse, and Sir Thomas Cornwallis, with their retinue
and troop of horsemen, to the number of two hundred and fifty, who,
at their sadden and unprovided coming, found her at the same time
sick in her bed, and very feeble and weak of body. Whither when
they came, ascending up to her grace's chamber, they desired one of
her ladies, whom they met, to declare to her grace, that there were
divers come from the court Avho had a message from the queen.
Her grace having knowledge thereof, was right glad of their com-
ing ; however, being then very sick, and the night far spent, (which
was at ten o'clock,) she requested them by the messenger, that they
would resort thither in the morning. To this they answered, that
they must needs see her, and would so do, in what case soever she
were. Whereat the lady being surprised, went to show her grace
their words, but they hastily following her, came rushing as soon as
she into her grace's chamber unbidden.
At whose sudden coming into her bed-chamber, her grace, being
greatly amazed, said unto them. Is the haste such that it might not
have pleased you to come to-morrow in the morning ?
They made answer, that they Avere right sorry to see her in that
case ; and I (said she) am not glad to see you here at this time of the
night. Whereupon they answered that they came from the queen to
do their message and duty, which was to this effect, that the queen's
pleasure was, that she should be at London the seventh day of that
present month. Whereunto she said. Certainly no creature can be
more glad than I to come to her majesty, being right sorry that I
am not in a case at this time to wait on her, as you yourselves do see,
and can well testify.
Indeed we see it true, said they, that you do say ; for which we are
very sorry, although we let you to understand, that our commission
is such, and so straiteneth us, that we must needs bring you with ns,
either alive or dead. Whereat she being amazed, sorrowfully said,
that their commission was very sore ; but yet notwithstanding she
hoped it would be otherwise, and not so straight. Yes, verily, said
they. Whereupon they calling for two physicians. Dr. Owen and
Dr. Wendy, demanded of them whether she might be removed from*
thence with life, or no ? Whose answer and judgment was, that
there was no impediment in tkeir opinion to the contrary, but that
«he might travel without danger of life.
In conclusion, they desired her to prepare against the next morn-
ing, at nine o'clock, to go with them, declaring that they had brought
snth them the queen's litter for her. After much talk, the messeu-
TRINCESS ELIZABETH. 489
gers declaring how there was no prolonging of times and days, de-
parted to their chamber.
The next morning, at the time prescribed, they had her forth as
she Avas, very faint and feeble, and in such case that she was ready
to swoon three or four times between them.
Now to proceed in her journey from Ashbridge. Sick in the litter,
she came to Redborne, where she was guarded all night ; from thence
to St. Alban's to Sir Ralph Rowlet's house, where she tarried that
night, both feeble in body and comfortless in mind. From thence
they passed to Mr. Dod's house at Minis, where they also remained
that night; and so from thence she came to Highgate, where she be-
ing very sick, tarried that night and the next day. During which
time of her abode, there came many pursuivants and messengers from
the court, but for what purpose I cannot tell.
From that place she was conveyed to the court, where by the way
came to meet her many gentlemen to accompany her highness, who
were very sorry to see her in that situation. But especially a great
multitude of people were standing by the way, who then flocked about
her litter, lamenting and bewailing greatly her estate. Now when
she came to the court, her grace was there shut up, and kept a close
prisoner, a fortnight, which was till Palm-Sunday, seeing neither king
nor queen, nor lord, nor friend, all that time, but only the then Lord
Chamberlain, Sir John Gage, and the vice-chamberlain, which were
attendant unto the doors. About which time Sir William Sentlowe
was called before the council. To whose charge was laid, that he
knew of Wyat's rebellion, which he stoutly denied, protesting that he
was a true man both to God and his prince, defying all traitors and
rebels ; but being straightly examined, he Avas in conclusion commit-
ted to the Tower.
The Friday before Palm-Sunday, the bishop of Winchester, with
nineteen others of the council, came unto her grace from the queen's
majesty, and burdened her with Wyat's conspiracy ; which she utter-
ly denied, affirming that she was altogether guiltless therein. They
being not contented with this, charged her grace with business made
by Sir Peter Carew, and the rest of the gentlemen of the west coun-
try ; which also she utterly denying, clearing her innocency therein.
In conclusion, after long debating of matters, they declared unto her
that it was the queen's will and pleasure that she should go unto the
Tower, while the matter was farther tried and examined.
Whereat she being amazed, said that she trusted the queen's
majesty would be a more gracious lady unto her, and that her high
ness would not otherwise conceive of her that but she was a true wo
man ; declaring furthermore to the lords, that she was innocent in
all those matters wherein they had hardened her, and desired them
therefore to be a farther means to the queen her sister, that she being
a true woman in thought, word, and deed, towards her majesty, might
not be committed to so notorious and doleful a place ; protesting that
she should request no favour at her hand, if she should be proved to
have consented unto any such kind of matter as they laid unto her
charge, and therefore, in fine, desired their lordships to think of her
what she M'as, and that she might not so extremely be dealt withal
for her truth.
Whereunto the lords answered again, that there was no remedj Jor
490 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
that the queen's majesty was fully determined that she should go unto
the tower. Wherewith the lords departed, with their caps hanging
over their eyes. But not long after, within the space of an hour, or
little more, came four of the aforesaid lords of the council, which were
the lord treasurer, the bishop of Winchester, the lord steward, the earl
of Sussex, with the guard ; who warding the next chamber to her, se-
cluded all her gentlemen and yeomen, ladies and gentlewomen : ex-
cept that for one gentleman usher, three gentlewomen, and two grooms
of her chamber, were appointed in their rooms three other men of the
queen's and three waiting women, to give attendance likewise upon
her, that none should have access to her grace.
At which time there was a hundred northern soldiers in white coats,
watching and warding about the gardens all that night, and a great
fire being made in the midst of the hall, two certain lords were watch-
ing there also with their band and company.
Upon Saturday following, two lords of the council (the one was the
earl of Sussex, the other shall be nameless) came and certified her
grace, that she must go fortliwith unto the tower, the barge being
prepared for her, and the tide now ready, which tarrieth for nobody.
In heavy mood her grace requested the lords that she might tarry
another tide, trusting that the next would be better and more com-
fortable. But one of the lords replied, that neither time nor tide was
to be delayed.
And when her grace requested him that she might be suffered to
write to the queen's majesty, he answered, that he durst not permit
that ; adding, that in his judgment it would rather hurt than profit her
grace in so doing.
But the other lord, more courteous and favourable, (who was the
earl of Sussex,) kneeling down, told her grace, that she should have
liberty to write, and as he was a true man, he would deliver it to the
queen's highness, and bring an answer of the same, whatsoever came
thereof. Whereupon she wrote, although she could in no case be
suffered to speak with the queen, to her great discomfort, being no
offender against the queen's majesty.
And thus the time and tide passed away for that season, they privily
appointing all things ready that she should go the next tide, which
fell about midnight ; but for fear she should be taken by the way, they
durst not. So they stayed till the next day, being Palm-Sunday,
when about nine o'clock these two returned again, declaring that it
was time for her grace to depart. She answered. If there be no re-
medy, 1 must be contented, willing the lords to go on before. Being
come forth into the garden, she cast her eyes towards the window,
thinking to see the queen, which she could not. Whereat she said,
she marvelled much what the nobility of the realm meant, which in
that sort would suffer her to be led into captivity, the Lord knew
whither, for she did not. In the mean time commandment was given
throughout London, that every one should keep the church, and carry
their palms, while in the mean season she might be conveyed with-
out any concourse of people to the tower.
After this, she took her barge, with the two aforesaid lords, three of
the queen's gentlewomen, and three of her own, her gentleman usher
and two of her grooms lying and hovering upon the water a certain
space, for that they could not shoot the bridge, the bargemen being
iillNCESS ELIZABETH. 491
very umvilling to shoot the same so soon as they did, because of the
danger thereof: foi- the stern of the boat struck upon the ground, the
fall was so great and the water was so shallow, that the boat being
under the bridge, there stayed again awhile. At landing, she first
stayed, and refused to land at those stairs, wheie all traitors and of-
fenders customarily used to land ; neither could she well, unless she
should go over her shoes. The lords were gone out of the boat be-
fore, and asked why she came not. One of the lords went back again
to her, and brought word she would not come.
Then said one of the lords, (who shall be nameless,) that she should
not choose, and because it did then rain, he oflered to her his cloak,
which she putting it back with her hand with a good dash, refused.
She coming out, having one foot upon the stairs, said, Here landeth as
true a subject, being prisoner, as ever landed at these stairs ; and be-
fore thee, O God, I speKk it, having no other friends but thee alone.
To whom the same lord answered again, that if it were so, it was the
better for her. At her landing there was a great multitude of their
servants and warders standing in their order. What needed all this?
said she. It is the use, said some, so to be when any prisoner came
thither. And if it be, quoth she, for my cause, I beseech you that
Vhey may be dismissed. Whereat the poor men kneeled down, and
with one voice desired God to preserve her grace.
After this, passing a little farther, she sat down upon a stone, and
there rested herself. To whom the lieutenant then being said, Ma-
dam, you were best to come out of the rain, for you sit unwholesomely.
She then replying, answered again, It is better sitting here than in a
worse place ; for God knoweth, I know not whither you will bring
me. With that her gentleman usher wept ; she demanding of him
what he meant by using ner so uncomfortably, seeing she took him
to be her comfort, and not to dismay her, especially for that she
knew her truth to be such, that no man should have cause to weep for
her. But forth she went into prison.
The doors we'' j locked and bolted upon her, which greatly discom-
forted and dismayed her grace. At which time she called to her gen-
tlewoman for her book, desiring God not to suffer her to build her
foundation upon the sands, but upon the rock, whereby all blasts of
blustering weather should have no power against her. The doors be-
ing thus locked, and she close shut up, the lords had great conference
how to keep ward and watch, every man declaring his own opinion in
tliat behalf, agreeing straitly and circumspectly to keep her.
Then one of them, which was the lord of Sussex, swearing, said, My
lords, let us take heed, and do no more than our commission will bear
us out in, whatsoever shall happen hereafter. And farther, let us con-
sider that she was the king our master's daughter ; and therefore let
us use such dealing, that we may answer it hereafter, if it shall so hap-
pen : for just dealing (quoth he) is always answerable ; whereunto the
other lords agreed that It was well said of him, and thereupon depart-
ed. Being in the tower, within two days commandment was, that
she should have mass within her house. One Mr. Young was then
her chaplain, and because there were none of her men so well learnea
to help the priest to say mass, the mass stayed for that day.
It would make a pitiful and strange story here by the way, to re
cite what examination and rackings of poor men there v^^re to find
492 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
out the knife that should cut her throat ; what gaping among my lords
of the clergy to see the day wherein they might Avash their goodly
white rochets in lier innocent blood ; but especially the bishop of
Winchester, Stephen Gardiner, then lord chancellor, who, within five
days after, came unto her, with divers others of the council, and ex-
amined her of the talk that was at Ashbridge, between her and Sir
James Acroft, concerning her removing from thence to Dunnington
castle, requiring her to declare what she meant thereby.
At the first, she being so suddenly asked, did not well remember
any such house ; but within a while, well advising herself, she said.
Indeed I do now remember that I have such a place, but I never lay
in it in all my life. And as for any that hath moved me thereunto, I
do not remember.
Then to enforce the matter, they brought forth Sir James Acroft.
The bishop of Winchester demanded of her w'hat she said to that man.
She answered, that she had little to say to him, or to the rest that were
then prisoners in the Tower : but, my lords, said she, you do examine
every mean prisoner of me, wherein methinks you do me great inju-
ry. If they have done evil, and oflfended the queen's majesty, let
them answer to it accordingly. I beseech you, my lords, join not me
in this sort with any of these offenders. And as concerning my go-
ing unto Dunnington castle, I do remember that Mr. Hobby and mine
officers, and you. Sir James Acroft, had such talk ; but what is that to
the purpose, my lords, but that I may go to mine own houses at all
times ?
The lord of Arundel kneeling down, said. Your grace saith true,
and certainly we are very sorry that we have troubled you about so
vain matters. She then said. My lords, you do sift me very narrow-
ly: but well I am assured, you shall not do more to me than God
hath appointed ; and so God forgive you all.
At their departure, Sir James Acroft kneeled down, declaring he
was sorry to see the day in which he should be brought as a witness
against her grace. But I assure your grace, said 'ie, I have been
marvellously tossed and examined touching your highness, which the
Lord knoweth, is very strange to me: for I take God to record, before
all your honours, I do not know any thing of that crime that you have
laid to my charge, and will thereupon take my death, if I should be
driven to so strict a trial.
That day, or thereabouts, divers of her own ofl^cers, who had made
provision for her diet, brought the same to the outer gate of the Tower,
the common soldiers receiving it ; which was no small grief unto
the gentlemen, the bringers thereof. Wherefore they desired to
speak with the lord chamberlain, who was then constable of the
Tower. On coming into his presence, they declared unto his lordship,
that they were much afraid to bring her grace's diet, and to deliver it
to such common and desperate persons as those who received it, be-
seeching his honour to consider her grace, and to give such order,
that her viands might at all times be brought in by them, who had
been appointed for that purpose. Yea, sirs, said he, who appointed
you this office ? They answered, her grace's council. Council !
said he : there is none of them which hath to do either in that case.
or any thing else within this place ; and I assure you, for that she is
a prisoner, she shall be served by the lieutenant's men, as othei the
PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 493
prisoners are. One of the gentlemen on this told him, *hat they trust-
ed lor more favour from his hands, considering her personage : and
added, that they imagined the queen and lier council would be better
10 her grace than so ; and showed themselves to be ollendcd at the
ungracious words of the lord chamberlain respecting their lady and
mistress.
On this he swore by God, striking himself upon the breast, that if
they did either frown or shrug at him, he would set them where they
should see neither sun nor moon. Thus taking their leave, they de-
sired God to bring him into a better mind towards her grace, and de-
parted from him.
Upon which occasion, her grace's officers made great suit unto the
queen's council, that some proper persons might be appointed to bring
her grace's diet unto her, and that it might no more be delivered by
the common soldiers of the Tower ; which being reasonably consi-
dered, was by them permitted ; and one of her gentlemen, her clerk of
the kitchen, and her two purveyors, were appointed to bring in her
provision once a day ; the warders, however, continued to wait upon
them on these occasions.
The lord chamberlain himself being always with them, circum-
spectly and narrowly watched and searched what they brought, and
took care that they should have no talk with any of her grace's wait-
ing servants, and so guarded them both in and out. At the said suit
of her officers, were sent, by the commandment of the council, to wait
upon her grace, two yeoman of her chamber, one of her robes, two
of her pantry and ewry, one of her buttery, another of her cellar, two
of her kitchen, and one of her larder, all of which continued with her
the time of her trouble.
Here the constable, being at the first not very well pleased with the
eoming in of such a company against his will, would have had his men
still to have served with her grace's men ; which her servants would
by no means suffer, desiring his lordship to be contented, for that or-
ders were given, that no stranger should come Avithin their offices.
At which answer being sore displeased, he broke out into these
threatening words. Well, I will handle you well enough ! Then he
went into the kitchen, and there would needs have his meat roasted
with her grace's, and said that his cook should come thither and dress
it. To that her grace's cook answered, My lord, I will never suffer
any stranger to come about her diet, but her own sworn men, as long
as I live. He said they should. But the cook said, his lordship
should pardon him for that matter. Thus did he trouble her poor
servants grievously; though afterward he was otherwise advised, and
they were more courteously used at his hands. And good cause
why : for he had good cheer, and fared of the best, and her grace paid
well for it. Wherefore he used himself afterward more reverently
toward her grace.
Having been a whole mcnth there in a close prison, and being on
that account uneasy, she sent for the lord chamberlain and the lord
Chandois to come and speak with her. When they were come, she
requested them that she might have liberty to walk in some place, for
that she felt herself not well. To which they answered, that they
were right sorry that they could not satisfy her grace's request, for
that they had commandment to the contrary, which they durst not in
494 BOOK OF MARTYRS,
any wise break. She then desired of them, if that could not be oraut
ed, that she might but walk in the queen's lodging. No, nor yet that,
they answered, could by any means be obtained without a farther suit
to the queen and her council. Well, said she, my lords, if the matter
be so hard that they must be sued unto for so small a thing, and that
friendship be so strict, God comfort me ; and so they departed, she
remaining in her old dungeon still, without any kind "of comfort but
only God.
The next day Lord Chandois came unto her grace, declaring unto
her that he had applied to the council for farther liberty. Some of
them consented thereunto, divers others dissented, for that there were
so many prisoners in the Tower. But, in conclusion, they did all
agree that her grace might walk into those lodgings, so that he, and
the lord chamberlain, and three of the queen's gentlewomen, did ac-
company her, the windows being shut, and she not suffered to look
out at any of them : wherewith she contented herself, and gave him
thanks for his good will in that behalf.
Afterwards there was liberty granted to her grace to walk in a lit-
tle garden, the doors and gates being shut up, which was as much
discomfort to her, as the walk in the garden was pleasant and accept-
able. At which times of her v/alking there, the prisoners on that
side were strictly commanded not to speak or look out of their windows
into the garden, till her grace was gone out again, having their keep-
ers waiting upon them for that time. Thus her grace with this small
liberty contented herself in God, to whom be praise therefor.
The fifth day of May, the constable of the Tower was discharged
from his office, and one Sir Henry Benifield placed in his room, a man
unknown to her grace, and therefore the more feared ; which sudden
alteration occasioned her no small surprise.
On Trinity Sunday, being the nineteenth day of May, she was re-
moved from the ToAver, and conveyed to Woodstock, where she was
\nclo-5ed, as before in the Tower of London, the soldiers guarding both
within and without the walls, every day, to the number of sixty ; and
in the night without the walls forty, during the time of her imprison-
ment there.
At length she had gardens appointed for her to walk in, which was
very comfortable to her grace. But always when she recreated her-
self therein, the doors were fast locked up, in as strict a manner as
they were in the Tower, being at least five or six locks between her
lodging and her walks; Sir Henry himself keeping the keys, and trust-
ing no man therewith. Whereupon she called him her jailor : and
no, kneeling down, desired her grace not to call him so, for he was
appointed there to be one of her officers. From such officers, (quoth
sh(?,) good Lord deliver n'.e.
And now, by the way, as digressing, or rather refreshing the reader,
if it be lawful in so serious a story to recite a matter incident, and yet
not impertinent to the same ; occasion here moveth, or rather inforceth
me to touch briefly what happened in the same place and time, by a
certain merry conceited man, being then about her grace : who ob-
serving the strict and strange keeping of his lady and mistress, by the
said Sir Henry Benifield, with so many locks and doors, with such a
At'atch and guard about her, as was strange and wonderful, espied a
goat in the ward where her grace was ; and whether to refresh her
PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 495
oppiessed mind, or to notify her strait handling by Sir Henry, or else
both, he took it upon his neck, and followed her grace therewith as
she was going into her lodging.
Whivli when she saw, she asked him what he would do with it, de-
siring him to let it alone. The man answered. No, by St. Mary, (if it
please your grace,) will I not ; for I cannot tell, whether he be one
of the queen's friends or not. I will carry him to Sir Henry Benifield
(God willing) to know what he is ; so leaving her grace, he went
with the goat on his neck, and carried it to Sir Henry: who when he
saw him coming with it, asked him, half angrily, what he had there.
Unto whom the man answered, saying, Sir, I cannot tell what he
is. I pray you examine him, for I found him in the place where my
lady's grace was walking, and what talk they have had, I cannot tell.
For I understand him not, but he should seem to me to be some stran-
ger, and I think verily a Welchman, for he hath a white frieze coat
on his back. And forasmuch as I, being the queen's subject, and
perceiving the strict charge committed to you, that no stranger should
have access to her without sufficient license, I have here found a
stranger (what he is I cannot tell,) in the place Avhere her grace was
walking ; and therefore for the necessary discharge of my duty, 1
thought it good to bring the said stranger to you, to examine as you
see cause ; and so he set him down. At this Sir Henry seemed much
displeased, and said. Well, well, you will never leave this gear, I see;
and so they departed.
Now to return to the matter from whence we have digressed, after
her grace had been there a time, she appUed to the council for leave
to write to the queen. This at last was permitted : so Sir Henry
Benifield brought her pen, ink, and paper ; and standing by her
while she wrote, (which he strictly observed,) she being sometimes
weary, he would carry away her letters, and bring them again when
she called for them. When she had finished, he would fain have
been messenger to the queen with the same. Whose request hei
grace denied, saying. One of her own men should carry them, and
that she w^ould neither trust him, nor any of his, with them.
Then he answered again, saying. None of them durst Le so bold,
(he thought,) as to carry her letters for her in her present situation.
Yes, said she, I am assured I have none so dishonest as to deny my
request in that beiialf, but will be as willing to serve me now as be-
fore. Well, said he, my commission is to the contrary, and I may
not so suffer it. Her grace replying again, said, You charge me
very often with your commission. I pray God you may justly answer
the cruel dealings you use towards me.
Then he kneeling down, desired her grace to think and consider
how he was a servant, and put in trust there by the queen, to serve
her majesty ; protesting, that if the case were hers, he would as
willingly serve her grace, as now he did the queen's highness. For
which answer her grace thanked him, desiring God that she might
never have need of^ such servants as he was ; declaring farther to
him, that his doings towards her were not good nor answerable, but
more than all the friends he had Avould stand by.
To whom Sir Henry replied, and said, that there was no remedy
but his doings must be answered, and so tliey should, trusting to
make good account thereof. The cause which moved her grace so
^96
BOOK OF MARTYRS
in say, was, for that he would not permit her letters to be carried four
or live days after the writing thereof But. in fine, he was content to
send for her gentleman from the town of Woodstock, demanding of
him whether he durst enterpi'ise the carriage of her grace's >etters to
the queen, or no : and he answered, yes, sir, that I dare, and Avill with
all my heart. Whereupon Sir Henry, half against his will, took them
unto him.
Then about the eighth of June came down Dr. Owen, and Dr.
Wendy, sent by the queen to her grace, for that she was sickly ; who
ministering to her, and letting her blood, tarried there, and attended
on her grace five or six days. Then she being well amended, they
returned again to the court, making their good report to the queen and
council of her grace's behaviour and humility towards the queen's
highness. Which her majesty hearing, took very thankfully; but the
bishops repined thereat, looked black in the mouth, and told the
queen they marvelled much that she submitted not herself to her ma
jesty's mercy, considering that she had offended her highness.
About this time, her grace was requested by a secret friend to
submit herself to the queen's majesty, which would be well taken, and
to her great quiet and advantage. Unto whom she answered, that
she would never submit herself to them whom she never offended.
For (quoth she) if I have offended, and am guilty, I then crave no
mercy, but the law, which 1 am certain I should have had before this,
if it could be proved by me. For I know myself (I thank God) to be
out of the danger thereof, wishing that I were as clear out of the peril
of my enemies ; and then I am assured I should not be so locked and
bolted up within walls and doors as I am. God give them a better
mind when it pleaseth him.
About this time there was a great consultation among the bishops
and gentlemen, touching the marriage of her grace, which some of
the Spaniards wished to be with some stranger, that she might go out
of the realm with her portion ; some saying one thing, and some an-
other.
A lord (who shall be here nameless) being there, at last said, that
the king should never have any quiet commonwealth in England,
unless her head was severed from her shoulders. Whereunto the
Spaniards answered, saying, God forbid that their king and master
should have that mind to consent to such a mischief
This v/as the courteous answer of the Spaniards to the Englishmen,
speaking after that sort against their own country. From that day
the Spaniards never left off their good persuasions to the king, that
the like honour he should never obtain, as he should in delivering the
Lady Elizabeth's grace out of prison; whereby at length she was
happily released from the same. Here is a plain and evident example
of the good clemency and nature of the king and his counsellors to-
ward her grace, (praised be God therefor,) who moved their hearts
therein. Then hereupon she was sent for shortly after to come to
Hampton-Court.
But before her removing away from Woodstock, we will stay a little
to declare in what dangers her life was during the time she remained
there ; first through fire, which began to kindle between the boards
and ceiling under the chamber where she lay, whether by a spark of
fire getting accidentally into a crevice, or whether for the purpose
PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 497
bv some that meant her no good, the Lord doth know. Nevertheless
a worshipful knight of Oxfordshire, which was tliere joined the same
time with Sir Henry Benifield in keeping that lady, (who then lookup
the boards and quenched the fire,) verily supposed it to be done for
the purpose.
Furthermore it is thought and affirmed (for truth) of one Paul Penny,
the keeper of Woodstock, a notorious ruffian, and a butcliery wretch,
that he was appointed to assassinate the said Lady Elizabeth ; who
both saw the man, being often in her sight, and also knew tliereof.
Another time, one of the privy chamber, a great man about the
queen, and chief darling of Stephen Gardiner, named James Basset,
came to Blandenbridge, a mile from Woodstock, with twenty or thirty
privy coats, and sent for Sir Henry Benifield to come and speak with
him. But as God would, who disposeth all things according to his
own will, so it happened, that a little before, the said Sir Henry Beni-
field was sent for by post to the council, leaving strict Avord behind
him with his brother, that no man, whosoever he were, though coming
Avith a note of the queen's hand, or any other warrant, should have
access to her before his return again. By reason whereof it so fell
out, that Mr. Benifield's brother, coming to him at the bridge, would
sufler him in no case to come in, otherwise (as is supposed) was ap-
pointed violently to murder the innocent lady.
There moreover is to be noted, that during the imprisonment of
this lady and princess, one Mr. Edmund Tremaine was on the rack,
and Mr. Smithwike, and others in the tower, were examined, and.
divers ofiers made to them to accuse the guiltless lady, being in her
captivity. Howbeit, all that notwithstanding, no matter could be
proved by all examinations, as she the same time lying at Woodstock
had certain intelligence by the means of one John Gayer ; who, under
a colourable pretence of a letter to Mrs. Cleve, from her father, was
let in, and so gave them secretly to understand of all this matter
Whereupon the Lady Elizabeth, at her departing out from Woodstock,
wrote these lines with her diamond in a glass window :
Much suspected by me,
Notliing proved can be,
Cluoth Elizabeth, prisoner.
And thus much touching the troubles of Lady Elizabeth at Wood-
stock. Whereunto this is more to be added, that during the same
time, the lord of Tame had laboured to the queen, and became surety
for her, to have her from Woodstock to his house, and had obtained
a grant thereof. Thereupon preparation was made accordingly, and
all things ready in expectation of her coming. But through the pro-
curement either of Mr. Benifield, or by the advice of Winchester,
her mortal enemy, letters came over night to the contrary ; whereby
her journey was stopped.
Thus this worthy lady, oppressed with continued sorrow, could not
be permitted to have recourse to any friends she had, but still in the
hands of her enemies was left desolate, and utterly destitute of all
that might refresh a doleful heart, fraught full of terror and thral-
dom. Whereupon no marvel if she, hearing upon a time, out of her
garden at Woodstock, a certain milkmaid singing pleasantly, wished
32
498
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
herself to be a milkmaid as she was, saying that her case was better
and life more merry than hers, in that state as she was.
Now after these things thus declared, to proceed farther there
where we left before. Sir Henry Benifield and his soldiers, with the
lord of Tame, and Sir Ralph Chamberline, guarding and waiting upon
her, the first night from Woodstock she came to Ricot. In which
journey such a mighty wind did blow, that her hood was twice or
thrice blown from her head. Thereupon she desiring to return to a
certain gentleman's house there near, could not be suffered by Sir
Henry Benifield so to do, but was constrained under a hedge to trim
her head as well as she could.
After this, the next day they journeyed to M/. Dormer's, and so to
Colbroke, where she lay all that night at the George, and by the way
coming to Colbroke, certain of her grace's gentlemen and yeomen
met her, to the number of threescore, much to all their comforts,
who had not seen her grace for a long time before : notwitlistanding
they were commanded in the queen's name immediately to depart the
town, to both theirs and her grace's no little heaviness, who could not
be suffered once to speak with them. So that night all her men were
taken from her, saving her gentleman-usher, three gentlewomen, two
grooms, and one of her wardrobe, the soldiers watching and warding
about the house, and slie close shut up within her prison.
The next day following, her grace entered Hampton-Court, and
came into the prince's lodging ; the doors being shut upon her, and
she guarded with soldiers as before, lay there a fortnight at least, be
fore any had recourse unto her ; at length came the Lord William
Haward, who used her grace honourably. Whereat she took much
comtort, requested him to be a means that she might speak with some
of the council. To whom not long after came the bishop of Win-
chester, and the lord of Arundel, the lord of Shrewsbury, Secretary
Peter, who with great humility humbled themselves to her grace
She again likewise saluting them, said. My lords, I am glad to sec
you; formethinks I have been kept a great while from you, desolate
and alone. Wherefore I would desire you to be a means to the king
and queen, that I may be delivered from prison, Avherein I have been
kept a long time, as to you, my lords, is well known.
When she had spoken, Stephen Gardiner, the bishop of Winches-
ter, kneeled down, and requested that she would submit herself to the
queen's grace, and in so doing he had no doubt but that her majesty
would be good to her : she made answer, That rather than she would
so do, she would lay in prison all the days of her life ; adding, that
she craved no mercy at ker majesty's hand, but rather desired the
law, if ever she did offend her majesty in thought, word, or deed ;
and besides this, in yielding (quoth she) I shoidd speak against my-
self, and confess myself to be an offender, which I never was towards
her majesty, by occasion whereof the king and queen might ever
hereafter conceive of me an evil opinion ; and therefore I say, my
lords, it were better for me to lie in prison for the truth, than to be
abroad and suspected by my prince. And so they departed, promising
to declare her message to the queen.
On the next day the bishop of Winchester came again r-nto her
grace, and kneeling down, declared that the queen marvelled that she
should so stoutly use herself, not confessing that she had offended ;
PRINCESS ELIZABETH. 499
60 that it should seem that the queen's majesty had wrongfully im •
prisoned her grace.
Nay, quoth the Lady Elizabeth, it may please her to punish me as
she thinketh good.
Well, quoth Gardiner, her majesty willeth me to tell you, that you
must tell another tale before that you be set at liberty.
Her grace answered, that she had as soon be in prison with honesty
and truth, as to be abroad suspected by her majesty ; and this that I
have said, I will stand unto, for I will never belie myself.
Winchester again kneeled down, and said. Then your grace hath
the advantage of me and other lords for your wrong and long im-
prisonment.
What advantage I have (quoth she) you know ; taking God to re-
cord I seek no advantage at your hands for your so dealing with me,
but God forgive you and me also. With that the rest kneeled, desi-
ring her grace that all might be forgotten, and so departed, she being
fast locked up again.
A seven-night after the queen sent for her grace at ten o'clock at
night to speak wiih her: for she had not seen her for two years be-
fore. Yet for all that, she was amazed at the suddenness of the mes-
sage ; thinking it had been worse than afterwards it proved, desired
her gentlemen and gentlewomen to pray for her; for that she could
not tell whether ever she should see them again or no.
At v/hich time Sir Henry Benifield with Mrs. Clarencius coming in,
her grace was brought into the garden, unto a stair's foot that went
into the queen's lodging, her grace's gentlewomen waiting upon her,
her gentleman-usher, and her grooms, going before with torches :
where her gentlemen and gentlewomen being commanded to stay,
all, saving one woman, Mrs. Clarencius conducted her to the queen's
bed-chamber, where her majesty was.
At the sight of whom her grace kneeled down, and desired God to
preserve her majesty, not mistrusting but that she should prove her-
self as true a subject towards her majesty as ever any did, and desi-
red her majesty even so to judge of her; and said, that she should
not find her to the contrary, whatsoever report otherwise had gone
of her.
To whom the queen answered. You will not confess your offence,
but stand stoutly to your truth : I pray God it may so fall out.
If it doth not, (quoth the Lady Elizabeth,) 1 request neither favour
nor pardon at your majesty's hands. Well, (said the queen,) you
stiffly still persevere in your truth. Belike you Avill not confess bu*
that you have been wrongfully punished.
I must not say so (if it please your majesty) to you.
Why then, (said the queen,) belike you will to others.
No, if it please your majesty, (quoth she,) I have horns the bur
den, and must bear it. I humbly beseech your majesty to have a
good opinion of me, and to think me to be your true subject, not only
from the beginning hitherto, but for ever, as long as life lasteth : and
so they departed with very {ew comfortable words of the queen, in
English ; but what she said in Spanish, God knoweth. It was thought
that King Philip was there behind a cloth, and not seen, and that he
showed himself a very great friend in that matter, &c.
•500
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Thus her grace departing, went to her lodging again, and thai day
seven-night was released of Sir Henry Benilield, her gaoler, (as she
termed him,) and his soldiers, and so her grace being set at liberty
from imprisonment, went into the country, and had appointed to go
with her, Sir Thomas Pope, one of Queen Mary's counsellors, and
one of her gentlemen-ushers, Mr. Gage, and thus strictly was she
looked after all Queen Mary's lime. And this is the discourse of her
highness's imprisonment.
Then there came to Lamhevre, Mr. Jerningham, and Mr. Norri?,
gentlemen-ushers. Queen Mary's men, who look away from her grace,
Mrs. Ashley to the Fleet, and three other of her gentlewomen to the
tower ; which thing was no little trouble to her grace, saying that
she thought they would fetch all away at the end. But God be
praised, shortly after was fetched away Gardiner, through the merci-
ful providence of the Lord's goodness, by occasion of whose oppor-
tune decease, (as is partly touched in this story before,) the life of this
excellent princess, and the wealth of England, was preserved. For
this is credibly to be supposed, that the said wicked Gardiner of Win-
chester had long laboured his wits, and to this only most principal
mark bent all his devices, to take this our happy and dear sovereign
out of the way ; as both by his words and doings before notified, may
sufficiently appear.
But such was the gracious and favourable providence of the Lord,
to the preservation not only of her royal majesty, but also of the mise-
rable and woful state of this whole island, and poor subjects of the
same, whereby the proud platform and peevish practices of this wick-
ed Ahithophel prevailed not ; but contrariwise, both he and all the
snares and traps of his pernicious counsel laid against another were
turned to a net to catch himself, according to the proverb, "The mis-
chief he designed for another fell upon his own head."
After the death of this Gardiner, followed the death also and droop-
ing away of other her enemies, whereby little and little her jeopardy
decreased, fear diminished, hope of comfort began to appeal as out of
a dark cloud ; and albeit as yet her grace had no full assurance of
perfect safety, yet more gentle entertainment daily did grow unto
her, till at length in the month of November, and seventeenth day of
the same, three years after the death of Stephen Gardiner, foi|,uv'6^^
the death of Queen Marv.
SPANISH ARMADA. 501
BOOK XI.
A GENERAL ACCOUNT OF THE ATTEMPTS MADE BY THE PAPISTS TO
OVERTURN THE PROTESTANT GOVERNMENTOF ENGLAND, FROM THE
ACCESSION OF QUEiiN ELIZABETH, TO THE REIGN OF GLORGE 11.
SECTION I.
THE SPANISH ARMADA.
Philip, king of Spain, husband to the deceased Queen Mary of Eng-
land, was no less inimical than that princess to the protestants. He
had always disliked the English, and after her death, determined, if
possible, to crown that infamous cruelty which had disgraced the
vvhole progress of her reign, by making a conquest of the island, and
putting every protestant to death.
The great warlike preparations made by this monarch, though the
purpose was unknown, gave a universal alarm to the English na-
tion ; as, though he had not declared that intention, yet it appeared
evident that he was taking measures to seize the crown of England.
Pope Sixtus V. not less ambitious than himself, and equally desirous
of persecuting the protestants, urged him to the enterprise. He ex-
communicated the queen, and published a crusade against her, with
the usual indulgences. All the ports of Spain resounded with pre-
parations for this alarming expedition ; and the Spaniards seemed to
threaten the English with a total annihilation.
Three whole years had been spent by Philip in making the neces-
sary preparations for this mighty undertaking; and his fleet, which,
on account of its prodigious strength, was called " The Invincible Ar-
mada," was now completed. A consecrated banner was procured
from the pope, and the gold of Peru was lavished on the occasion.
All our historical writers relate the particulars of this important
event, but a description by an eye-witness must possess superior in-
terest with the general reader, although it may be devoid of those gra-
ces of style which lend a charm to the narratives of the professed his-
torian ; we therefore give " a brief Discourse of the great preparations
of the Spaniards, in order to invade England in the reign of Queen
Elizabeth," verbatim, as we find it in our author, by whom, however,
it was not written, he having died in the preceding year, 1587.
The duke of Parma, by command of the Spaniards, built ships in
Flanders, and a great company of small broad vessels, each one able
to transport thirty horses, with bridges fitted for them severally ; and
liired mariners from the east part of Germany, and provided long pie-
ces of wood sharpened at the end, and covered with iron, Avith hooks,
on one side ; and 20,000 vessels, with a huge number of fagots ; and
placed an army ready in Flanders, of 103 companies of foot, and 4000
horsemen. Among these 700 English vagabonds, who were held of
all others in most contempt. Neither was Stanley respected or obey-
ed, who was set over the English ; nor Westmoreland, nor any other
502 BOOK OP MARTYRS.
who offered their help : but for their unfaithfuhiess to their own conn
try were shut out from all consultations, and as men unanimously re-
jected with detestation. And because Pope Sixtus the Fifth in such a
case would not be wanting, he sent Cardinal Allen into Flanders, and
renewed the bulls declaratory of Pope Pius the Fifth, and Gregory the
Thirteenth. He excommunicated and deposed Queen Elizabeth, ab-
solved her subjects from all allegiance, and, as if it had been against
the Turks or infidels, he set forth in print a conceit, wherein he be-
stowed plenary indulgences, out of the treasure of the church, be-
sides a million of gold, or ten hundred thousand ducats, to be distri-
buted (the one half in hand, the rest when either England, or some
famous haven therein, should be won) upon all them that would join
their help against England. By which means the marquis of Burgau,
of the house of Austria, the duke of Pastrana, Amadis, duke of Savoy,
Vespasian, Gonzaga, John Medicis, and divers other noblemen, were
drawn into these wars.
Queen Elizabeth, that she might not be surprised unawares, prepa-
red as great a navy as she could, and with singular care and provi-
dence, made all things ready necessary for war. And she herself,
who was ever most judicious in discerning of men's wits and aptness,
and most happy in making choice, when she made it out of her own
judgment, and not at the direction of others, designed the best and
most serviceable to each several employment. Over the whole navy
she appointed the Lord Admiral Charles Howard, in whom she reposed
Enuch trust; and sent him to the west part of England, where Captain
Drake, whom she made vice-admiral, joined with him. She command-
ed Henry Seimor, the second son to the duke of Somerset, to watch
upon the Belgic shore, with forty English and Dutch ships, that the
duke of Parma might not come out with his forces; although some
were of opinion, that the enemy was to be expected and set upon by
land forces, according as it was upon deliberation resolved, in the time
of Henry the Eighth, when the French brought a great navy on the
English shore.
For the land fight, there were placed on the south shore twenty
thousand; and two armies beside were mustered of the choicest men
for war. The one of these, which consisted of 1000 horse and twenty
two thousand foot, was commanded by the earl of Leicester, and en-
camped at Tilbury, on the side of the Thames. For the enemy was
resolved first to set upon London. The other army was commanded
by the Lord Hunsdon, consisting of thirty-four thousand foot, and
two thousand horse, to guard the queen.
The Lord Gray, Sir Francis Knowles, Sir John Norris, Sir Richard
Bingham, Sir Roger Williams, men famously known for military ex-
perience, were chosen to confer of the land fighi. These commandera
thought fit that all those places should be fortified, with men and am-
munition, which were commodious to land in, either out of Spain or
out of Flanders, as Milford-Haven, Falmouth, Plymouth, Portlano,
the Isle of Wight, Portsmouth, the open side of Kent, called the
Downs, the Thames' mouth, Harwich, Yarmouth, Hull, &cc. Tha.
trained soldiers through all the maritime provinces should meet upon
warning given, to defend the places ; that they should, by their best
means, hinder the enemy from landing ; and if they did happen to
land, then they were to destroy the fruits of the country all about
SPANISH ARMADA. 503
and spoil every thing that might be of any use to the enemy, that so
vhcy might find no more victuals than what they brought with them.
\nd that, by continued alarms, the enemy should find no i-est day or
night. But they should not try any battle, until divers captains were
met together with their companies. Tliat one captain might be named
in every shire which might command.
Two years before, the duke of Parma, considering how hard a mat-
ter it was to end the Bclgic war, so long as it was continually nourish-
ed and supported with lid from the queen, he moved for a treaty of
peace, by the means of Sir James Croft, one of the privy council, a man
desirous of peace, and Andrew Loe, a Dutchman, and professed that
the Spaniard had delegated authority to him for this purpose. But
the queen fearing that the friendship between her and the confede-
rate princes might be dissolved, and that so they might secretly be
drawn to the Spaniard, she deferred that treaty for some time. But
now, that the wars on both sides prepared might be turned away, she
was content to treat for peace ; but so as still holding the weapons in
her hand.
For this purpose, in February, delegates were sent into Flanders,
the earl of Derby, the Lord Cobham, Sir James Croft, Dr. Dale, and
Dr. Rogers. These were received with all humanity on the duke's
behalf, and a place appointed for their treating, that they mighi see
the authority delegated to him by the Spanish king. He appointed
the place near to Ostend, not in Ostend, which at that time was held by
the English against the Spanish king. His authority delegated, he
promised then to show, when they were once met together. He wish-
ed them to make good speed in the business, lest somewhat might
fall out in the mean time, which might trouble the motions of peace.
Richardotus spoke somewhat more plainly, That he knew not what
in this interim should be done against England.
Not long after. Dr. Rogers was sent to the prince, by an express com-
mandment from the queen, to know the truth, whether the Spaniards
had resolved to invade England, which he and Richardotus seemed
to signify. He affirmed, that he did not so much as think of the in-
vasion of England, when he wished that the business might proceed
with speed; and was in a manner ofiended with Richardotus, who de-
nied that such words fell from him.
The 12th of April, the Count Aremberg, Champigny, Richardotus,
Doctor Maesius, and Gamier, delegated from the prince of Parma,
met with the English, and yielded to them the honour both in walk-
ing and sitting.
This conference, however, came to nothing ; undertaken by the
queen, as the wiser then thought, to avert the Spanish fleet; continued
by the Spaniard that he might oppress the queen, being as he supposed
unprovided, and not expecting the danger. So both of them tried to
use time to their best advantages.
At length the Spanish fleet, well furnished with men, ammunition,
engines, and all warlike preparations, the best, indeed, that ever was
seen upon the ocean, called by the arrogant title. The Invincible Ar-
mada, consisted of 130 ships, wherein there were in all, 19,200. Ma-
riners, 8,350. Chained rowers, 11,080. Great ordnance, n,()30
The chief commander was Perezius Gusmannus, duke of Medina Si
504
BOOK OF MARTYRS.
donia ; and under him Joannes Martinus Ricaldus, a lUan of great ex-
perience in sea affairs.
The 30th of May they loosed out of the river Tagus, and bending
their course to the Groin, in Gallicia, they were beaten and scattered
by a tempest ; three galleys, by the help of David Gwin, an English
servant, and by perfidiousness of Turks which rowed, were carried
away into France. The fleet, with much ado, after some days came
to the Groin, and other harbours near adjoining. The report was, that
the fleet was so shaken by this tempest, that the queen was persuaded,
that she was not to expect that fleet this year. And Sir Francis Wal-
singham, secretary, wrote to the lord adran-al, that he might send back
four of the greatest ships, as if the war had been ended. But the lord
admiral did not easily give credit to that report ; yet wi*h a gentle an-
swer entreated him to believe nothing hastily in so important a matter:
as also that he might be permitted to keep those ships with him which
he had, though it were upon his own charges. And getting a favour-
able wind, made sail towards Spain, to surprise the enemy's damaged
ships in their harbours. When he was close in with the coast of Spain,
the wind shifting, and he being charged to defend the English shore,
fearing that the enemies might unseen by the same wind sail for Eng-
land, he returned unto Plymouth.
Now with the same wind, the 12th of July, the duke of Medina with
his fleet departed from the Groin. And after a few days he sent Rode-
ricus Telius into Flanders, to advertise the duke of Parma, giving him
warning that the fleet was approaching, and therefore he was to make
himself ready. For Medina's commission was to join himseli" with the
ships and soldiers of Parma; and under the protection of his fleet to
bring them into England, and to land his forces upon the Thames side.
The sixteenth day, (saith the relator,) there was a great calm, and
a thick cloud was upon the sea till noon ; then the north wind blowing
roughly ; and again the west wind till midnight, and after that the east ;
the Spanish navy was scattered, and hardly gathered together until
they came within sight of England, the nineteenth day of July. Upon
which day 'he lord admiral was certified by Flemming, (who had been
a pirate,) that the Spanish fleet was entered into the English sea, which
the mariners call the Channel, and was descried near to the Lizard.
The lord admiral brought forth the English fleet into the sea, but not
without great difficulty, by the skill, labour, and alacrity of the soldiers
and mariners, every one labouring ; yea, the lord admiral himself
putting his hand to this work.
The next day the English fleet viewed the Spanish fleet coming
along like towering castles in height, her front crooked like the fashion
of the moon, the wings of the fleet were extended one from the other
about seven miles, or as some say eight miles asunder, sailing with the
labour of the winds, the oce-an as it were groaning under it ; their sail
was but slow, and yet at full sail before the wind. The English were
willing to let them hold on their course, and when they were passed
Dy, got behind them, and so got to windward of them.
Upon the 21st of July, the lord admiral of England sent a cutter
before, called the Defiance, to denounce the battle by firing off pieces.
And being himself in the Royal-Arch, (the English admiral ship,) he
began the engagement with a ship which he took to be the Spanish
admiral, but which was the ship of Alfonsus Leva. Upon that he ex-
SPANISH ARMADA. 505
ponded much shot. Presently Drake, Hawkins, and Forbisher, came
in upon the rear of the Spaniards which Ricahlus commanded. Upon
these they thundered. Ricaldus endeavoured, as much as in him lay,
to keep his men to their quarters, but all in vain, until his ship, much
beaten and battered with many shot, hardly recovered the fleet. Then
the duke of Medina gathered together his scattered fleet, and setting
more sail, held on his course. Indeed they could do no other, for the
English had gotten the advantage of the wind, and their ships being
much easier managed, and ready Avith incredible celerity to come
upon the enemy with a full course, and then to tack and re-tack, and
be on every side at their pleasure. After a long fight, and each of
them had taken a trial of their courage, the lord admiral thought pro-
per to continue the fight no longer, because there were forty ships
more, which were then absent, and at that very time were coming out
of Plymouth Sound.
The night following, the St. Catherine, a Spanish ship, being sadly
torn in the battle, was taken into the midst of the fleet to be repaired.
Here a great Cantabrian ship, of Oquenda, wherein was the treasurer
ot the camp, by force of gun-powder took fire, yet it was quenched in
time by the ships that came to help her. Of those which came to as-
sist the fired ship, one was a galleon, commanded by Petrus Waldez :
the fore-yard of the galleon was caught in the rigging of another ship,
and carried away. This was taken by Drake, who sent "SValdez to
Dartmouth, and a great sum of money, viz. 55,000 ducats, which he
distributed among the soldiers. This Waldez coming into Drake's
presence, kissed his hand, and told him they had all resolved to die, if
they had not been so happy as to fall into his hands, whom they knew
to be noble. That night he was appointed to set forth alight, but ne-
glected it ; and some German merchant ships coming by that night, he,
thinking them to be enemies, followed them so far, that the English
fleet lay to all night, because they could see no light set forth. Nei-
ther did he nor the rest of the fleet find the admiral until the next even-
ing. The admiral all the night proceeding with the Bear, and the
Mary Rose, carefully followed the Spaniards with watchfulness. The
duke was busied in ordering his squadron. Alfonsus Leva was com-
manded to join the first and last divisions. Every ship had its proper
station assigned, according to that prescribed form which was ap-
pointed in Spain ; it was present death to any who forsook his station.
This done, he sent Gliclius and Anceani to Parma, which might de-
clare to them in what situation they were, a,nd left that Cantabrian ship,
of Oquenda, to the wind and sea, having taken out the money and ma-
riners, and put them on board of other ships. Yet it seemed that he
had not care for all; for that ship the same day, with fifty mariners,
and soldiers w ounded, and half burned, fell into the hands of theEng-
hsh, and was carried to Weymouth.
The 2.3d of the same month, the Spaniards having a favourable north
wind tacked towards the English ; but they being more expert in the
management of their ships, tacked likewise, and kept the advantage
they had gained, keeping the Spaniards to leeward, till at last the fight
became general on both sides. They fought awhile confusedly with
variable success : whilst on the one side the English with great cou
rage delivered the London ships which were enclosed about by the
Spaniards; and on the other side, the Spaniards by valour freed Rical-
506 ^OOK OF MARTYRS.
dus from the ex reme danger l.^Mvas in; great and many were the
explosions, which, by the continual hilrj of great guns, were heard this
day. But the loss (by the good provideuc? of God,) fell upon the
Spaniards, their ships being so high, that the shot went over our Eng-
lish ships , and the English, haviiig such a fair mark at their large
ships, never shot in vain. During this engagement, Cock, an Eng-
lishman, being surrounded by the Spanish ships, could not be reco-
vered, but perished ; however, with great honour he revenged himself.
Thus a long time the English ships with great agility were sometimes
upon the Spaniards, giving them the fire of one side, and then of the
other, and presently were off again, and still kept the sea, to make
themselves ready to come in again. Where.' s the Spanish ships,
being of great burden, were troubled and hindered, and stood to be
the marks for the English shot. For all that the English admiral
would not permit his people to board their ships, because they had
such a number of soldiers on board, which he had not ; their ships
were many in number, and greater, and higher, that if they had come
to grapple, as many would have had it, the English being much lower
than the Spanish ships, must needs have had the Avorst of them that
fought from the higher ships. And if the English had been overcome,
the loss would have been greater than the victory could have been;
for our being overcome would have put the kingdom in hazard.
The 24th day of July they gave over fighting on both sides. The
admiral sent some small barks to the English shore for a supply of
provisions, and divided his whole fleet into four squadrons ; the first
whereof he took under his own command, the next was commanded
by Drake, the third by Hawkins, and the last by Forbisher. And he
appointed out of every squadron certain little ships, which, on divers
sides, might set upon the Spaniards in the night, but a sudden calm
took them, so that expedient was without efiect.
The 25th, the St. Anne, a galleon of Portugal, not being able to
keep up with the rest, was attacked by some small English ships.
To whose aid came in Leva, and Didacus Telles Enriques, with three
galeasses ; which the admiral, and the Lord Thomas Howard, espy-
ing, made all the sail they could against the galeasses, but the calm
continuing, they were obliged to be towed along with their boats ; as
soon as they reached the galeasses, they began to play away so
fiercely with their great guns, that with much danger, and great loss,
they hardly recovered their galleon. The Spaniards reported that the
Spanish admiral Avas that day in the rear of their fleet, which, being
come nearer the English ships than before, got terribly shattered with
their great guns, many men were killed aboard, and her masts laid
over the side. The Spanish admiral, after this, in company with
Ricaldus, and others, attacked the English admiral, who, having the
advantage of the wind, suddenly tacked, and escaped. The Spaniards
holding on their course again, sent to the duke of Parma, that with
all possible speed he should join his ships with the king's fleet. These
things the English knew not, who write that they had carried away
the lantern from one of the Spanish ships, the stern from another,
and sore mauled the third, very much disabling her. The Non-Parigly,
and the Mary Rose, fought awhile with the Spaniards, and the Tri-
Mmph being in danger, other ships came in good time to help her.
The next day the lord admiral knighted the Lord Thomas Howard,
SPANISH ARMADA, 507
the Lord Sheffield, Roger Townsend, John Hawkins, and Martin For-
bisher, for their valour in the last engagement. After this, they
agreed not to attack the enemy until they came into the straits of
Calais, where Henry Seimor, and William Winter, waited for their
coming. Thus with a fair gale the Spanish fleet went forward, and
the English followed. This great Spanish Armada was so far from
being esteemed invincible in the opinion of the English, that many
young men and gentlemen, in hope to be partakers of a famous vic-
tory against the Spaniards, provided ships at their own expenses, and
joined themselves to the English fleet ; among whom were the earls
of Essex, Northumberland, and Cumberland, Thomas and Robert
Cecil, Henry Brooks, William Hatton, Robert Cary, Ambrose Wil-
loughby, Thomas Gerard, Arthur Gorge, and other gentlemen of good
note and quality.
The 27th day, at even, the Spaniards cast anchor near to Calais,
being admonished by their skilful seamen, that if they went any fur-
ther they might be in danger, through the force of the tide, to be
driven into the North Ocean. Near to them lay the English admiral
with his fleet, within a great gun's shot. The admiral, Seimor, and
Winter, now join their ships ; so that now there were a hundred and
forty ships in the English fleet, able, and w^ell furnished for fighting,
for sailing, and every thing else Avhich was requisite ; and yet there
were but fifteen of these which bore the heat of the battle, and re-
pulsed the enemy. The Spaniard, as often as he had done before, so
now Avith great earnestness sent to the duke of Parma, to send forty
fly-boats, without which they could not fight with the English, be-
cause of the greatness and slowness of their ships, and the agility oi
the English, and entreating him by all means now to come to sea with
his army, which army was now to be protected, as it were, under the
wings of the Spanish armada, until they should land in England.
But the duke was unprovided, and could not come out in an instant
The broad ships with flat bottoms being then full of chinks must hi
mended. Victuals wanted, and must be provided. The mariner?
being long kept against their wills, began to shrink away. The por*
of Dunkirk and Newport, by which he must bring his army to the
sea, were now so beset with the strong ships of Holland and Zealand,
which were furnished with great and small munition, that he was not
able to come to sea, unless he would come upon his own apparent de-
struction, and cast himself and his men wilfully into a headlong dan-
ger. Yet he omitted nothing that might be done, being a man
eager and industrious, and inflamed with a desire of overcoming
England.
But Queen Elizabeth's providence and care prevented both the dili-
gence of this man, and the credulous hope of the Spaniard ; for by
her command the next day the admiral took eight of their worst ships,
charging the ordnance therein up to the mouth with small shot, nails,
and stones, and dressed them with wild fire, pitch, and rosin, and fill-
ed them full of brimstone, and some other matter fit for fire, and these
being set on fire by the management of Young and Prowse, were
secretly in the night, by the help of the wund, set full upon the Spa
nish fleet, which, on Sunday, the seventh of August, they sent in
among them as they lay at anchor.
508 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
When the Spaniards saw them come near, the flames giving light
all over the sea; they supposing those ships, besides the danger of
fire, to have been also furnished with deadly engines, to make horri-
ble destruction among them ; lifting up a most hideous cry, some pull
up anchors, some for haste cut their cables, they set up their sails,
they apply their oars, and stricken with extreme terror, in great haste
they fled most confusedly. Among them the Pretorian Galleass
floating upon the seas, her rudder being broken, in great danger and
fear drew towards Calais, and striking in the sand was taken by Amias
Preston, Thomas Gerard, and Harvey ; Hugh Moncada the governor
was slain, the soldiers and mariners were either killed or drowned ;
in her there was found great store of gold, which fell to be the prey
of the English. The ship and ordnance went to the governor of
Calais. .
The Spaniards report, that the duke, when he saw the fire-ships
coming, commanded all the fleet to heave up their anchors, but so as
the danger being past, every ship might return again to his own sta-
tion ; and he himself returned, giving a sign to the rest by shooting
off" a gun ; which was heard but by a few, for they were far off' scat-
tered, some into the open ocean, some through fear were driven upon
the shallows of the coast of Flanders.
Over against Gravelling the Spanish fleet began to gather them-
selves together. But upon them came Drake and Fenner, and bat-
tered them with great ordnance : to these Fenton, Southwel, Beeston,
Cross, Riman, and presently after the lord admiral, and Sheffield,
came in. The Duke Medina, Leva, Oquenda, Ricaldus, and others,
with much ado in getting themselves out of the shallows, sustained the
English force as well as they might, until most of their ships were
pierced and torn ; the galleon St. Matthew, governed by Diego
Pimentellas, coming to aid Francis Toleton, being in the St. Philip,
was pierced and shaken with the reiterated shots of Seimor and
Winter, and driven to Ostend, and was at last taken by the Flush-
ingers. The St. Philip came to the like end ; so did the galleon of
Biscay, and divers others.
The last day of this month, the Spanish fleet striving to recover the
straits again, were driven towards Zealand. The English left off'pur-
suing them, as the Spaniards thought, because they saw them in a man-
tier cast away ; for they could not avoid the shallows of Zealand.
But the wind turning, they got them out of the shallows, and then
began to consult what were best for them to do. By common con-
sent they resolved to return into Spain by the Northern Seas, for
they wanted many necessaries, especially shot; their ships were torn,
and they had no hope that the duke of Parma could bring forth his
forces. And so they took the sea, and followed the course toward the
North. The English navy followed, and sometimes the Spanish
turned upon the English, insomuch that it was thought by many that
they would turn back again.
Queen Elizabeth caused an army to encamp at Tilbury. After the
army had come thither, her majesty Avent in person to visit the camp,
which then lay between the city of London and the sea, under the
charge of the earl of Leicester, where placing herself between the
enemy and her city, she viewed her army, passing through it divers
limes, and lodsinsf in the borders of it, returned again and dined in the
SPANISH ARMADA. 503
army. Afterwards M'hen they were all reduced into battle, prepared
as it were for fight, she rode round about with a leader's staff in her
hand, only accompanied with the general, and three or four others
attending upon her.*
I could enlarge the description hereof with many more particulars
of mine own observation (says the author,) for I Mandered, as many
others did, from place to place, all the day, and never heard a word
spoke of her, but in praising her for her stalely person and princely
behaviour, in praying for her long life, and earnestly desiring to ven-
ture their lives for her safety. In her presence they sung j)salms of
praise to Almighty God, for which she greatly commended them, and
devoutly praised God with them. This that I write you may be sure
I do not with any comfort, but to give you these manifest arguments
that neither this queen did discontent her people, nor her people show
any discontent in any thing they were commanded to do for her ser-
vice, as heretofore hath been imagined.
This account was related by a popish spy, in a letter written here
in England to Mendea. The copy of which letter was found upon
Richard Leigh, a seminary priest in French and English : which
priest was executed for high treason while the Spanish Armada was
at sea.
The same day whereon the last fight was, the duke of Parma, after
his vows offered to the lady of Halla, came somewhat late to Dunkirk,
and was received with very opprobrious language by the Spaniards,
as if in favour of Queen Elizabeth he had slipped the fairest opportu-
nity that could be to do the service. He, to make some satisfaction,
punished the purveyors that had not made provision of beer, brea<l,
(fcc. which was not yet ready nor embarked, secretly smiling at the
insolence of the Spaniards, when he heard them bragging, that what
way soever they came upon England, they would have an undoubted
victory ; that the English were not able to endure the sight of them.
The English admiral appointed Seimor and the Hollanders to watch
upon the coast of Flandei-s, that the duke of Parma should not come
* The queen made the following animated speech to the troops assembled at
Tilbury ;
" My loving people, we have been persuaded by some, that are careful of our safety,
to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery ; but
I assure you, I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and lo\ing people. Let
tyrants fear : I have always so behaved myself, that under God, I have placed my
chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good-will of my subjects. And
therefore I am come among you at this time, not as for my recreation or sport, but being
resolved, in the midst and neat of the battle, to live or die among you all ; to lay down,
for my God, and for my kingdom, and for my people, my honour and my blood, even
in the dust. 1 know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the
heart of a king, and of a king of England too ; and think foul scorn that Parma or
Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realms : To
which rather than any dishonour should grow by me, I myself will take up arms ; I my-
self will be your general, judge, and rewardcr of every one of your virtues in the field.
I know already, by your forwardness, that you have deserved rewards and crowns ; and
I do assure you, on the word of a prince, they shall be duly paid you. In the mean
time my lieutenant-general shall be in my stead, than whom never prince commanded
a more noble and worthy subject ; not doubting by your obedience to my general, by
your concord in the camp, and your valour in the field, we shall shortly have a famous
Tictory over those enemies of my God, of my kingdom, and of my people.
510 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
out; Avhilst he himself close followed the Spaniards until they were
past Edinburgh Frith.
Tlje Spaniards, seeing all hopes fail, fled amain ; and so this great
navy, being three years preparing, with great expense, was within
one month overthrown, and, after many were killed, being chased
again, was driven about all England, by Scotland, the Oreades, and
Ireland, tossed and damaged with tempests, much diminished, and
went home without glory. There were not a hundred men of the
English lost, and but one ship. Whereupon money was coined with
a navy fleeing away in full sail, with this inscription, Venit, Vidit, Fu-
git. Others were coined with the ships on fire, the navy confounded,
inscribed, in honour of the queen. Dux Fozmina Facti. As they fled,
it is certain that many of their ships were cast away upon the shores
of Scotland and Ireland. About seven hundred soldiers and mariners
were castaway upon the Scottish shore, who, at the Duke of Parma's
intercession with the Scotch king, the queen of England consenting,
were after a year sent into Flanders. But they that were cast upon
the Irish shore came to more miserable fortunes ; for some were kill-
ed by the wild Irish, and others were destroyed for fear they should
join themselves with the wild Irish, (which cruelty Queen Elizabeth
much condemned,) and the rest being afraid, sick, and hungry, with
their disabled ships, committed themselves to the sea, and many were
drowned.
The queen went to public thanksgiving in St. Paul's church, ac-
companied by a glorious train of nobility, through the streets of Lon-
Gon, which were hung with blue cloth, the companies standing on both
sides in their liveries ; the banners that were taken from the enemies
were spread ; she heard the sermon, and public thanks were render-
ed unto God with great joy. This public joy was augmented, when
Sir Robert Sidney returned from Scotland, and brought from the king
assurances of his noble mind and afilection to the queen, and to reli-
gion ; which as in sincerity he had established, so he purposed to
maintain with all his power. Sir Robert Sidney was sent to him
when the Spanish fleet was coming, to congratulate and return thanks
for his great afiection towards the maintenance of the common cause ;
and to declare how ready she would be to help him if the Spaniards
should land in Scotland ; and that he might recal to memory with
what strange ambition the Spaniards had gaped for all Britain, urging
the pope to excommunicate him, to the end that he might be thrust
from the kingdom of Scotland, and from the succession in England :
and to give him notice of the threatening of Mendoza, and the pope's
nuncio, who threatened his ruin if they could eflect it ; and therefore
warned him to take special heed to the Scottish papists.
The king pleasantly answered, That he looked for no other benefit
from the Spaniards, than that which Polyphemus promised to Ulysses,
to devour him last after his fellows were devoured.
It may not be improper here to subjoin a list of the different arti-
cles taken on board the Spanish ships, designed for the tormenting of
the protestants, had their scheme taken effect.
1. The common soldiers' pikes, eighteen feet long, pointed with
SPANISH ARMADA. . 61 i
long sharp spikes, and shod with iron, -which were designed to keep
off the horse, to facilitate the landing of the infantry.
2. A great number of lances used by the Spanish officers. These
were formerly gilt, but the gold is almost worn off by cleaning.
3. The Spanish ranceurs, made in different forms, which were in-
tended either to kill the men on horseback, or pull them off their
horses.
4. A very singular piece of arms, being a pistol in a shield, so
contrived as to fire the pistol, and cover the body at the same time,
with the shield. It is to be fired by a match-lock, and the sight of
the enemy is to be taken through a little grate in the shield, which is
pistol proof.
5. The banner, Avith a crucifix upon it, which was to have been car-
ried before the Spanish general. On it is engraved the pope's
benediction before the Spanish fleet sailed : for the pope came to the
water side, and, on seeing the fleet, blessed it, and styled it invinci-
ble.
6. The Spanish cravats, as they are called. These are engines of
torture, made of iron, and put on board to lock together the feet, arms
and heads of Englishmen,
7. Spanish bilboes, made of iron likewise, to yoke the English
prisoners two and two.
8. Spanish shot, Avhich are of four sorts : pike-shot, star-shot,
chain-shot, and link-shot, all admirably contrived, as well for the de-
struction of the masts and rigging of ships, as for sweeping the decks
of their men.
9. Spanish spadas poisoned at the points, so that if a man received
the slightest wound with one of them, certain death was the conse-
quence.
10. A Spanish poll-axe, used in boarding of ships.
11. Thumb-screws, of which there were several chests full on
board the Spanish fleet. The use they were intended for is said to
have been to extort confession from the English where their money
was hid.
12. The Spanish morning star; a destructive engine resembling
the figure of a star, of which there were many thousands on board,
and all of them with poisoned points ; and were designed to strike at
the enemy as they came on board, in case of a close attack.
13. The Spanish general's halberd, covered with velvet. All the
nails of this weapon are double gilt with gold ; and on its top is the
pope's head, curiously engraved.
14. A Spanish battle-axe, so contrived as to strike four holes in a
man's head at once ; and has besides a pistol in its handle, with a
match-lock.
15. The Spanish general's shield, carried before him as an ensign
of honour. On it are depicted, in most curious workmanship, the
labours of Hercules, and other expressive allegories.
When the Spanish prisoners were asked by some of the English
what their intentions Avere, had their expedition succeeded, they re-
plied, " To extirpate the whole from the island, at least all heretics,
(as they called the protesfants,) and to send their souls to hell." —
.Strrt'iif^e iniatuation ! Ridiculous bigotry ! How prejudiced must the
minds of those men be, who would wish to destroy their fcllow-crea-
512 BOOK OF MAKTYRS.
lures, not only in this world, but, if it were possible, in that which is
to come, merely because they refused to believe on certain subjects
as the Spaniards themselves did.
SECTION II.
HORRID CONSPIRACY BY THE PAPISTS FOR THE DESTRUCTION OF
JAMES I., THE ROYAL FAMILY, AND BOTH HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT ;
COMMONLY KNOWN BY THE NAME OF THE GUNPOWDER PLOT.
The papists (of which there were great numbers in England at the
time of the intended Spanish invasion) were so irritated at the failure
of that expedition, that they were determined, if possible, to project a
scheme at iionie, that might answer the purposes, in some degree, of
their b )od-thirsty competitors. The vigorous administration of Eli-
zabeth, however, prevented their carrying any of their iniquitous de-
signs into execution, although they made many attempts with that
view. The commencement of the reign of her successor was destined
to be the era of a plot, the barbarity of which transcends every thing
related in ancient or modern history.
In order to crush popery in the most effectual manner in this king-
dom, James, soon after his accession, took proper measures for
eclipsing the power of the Roman Catholics, by enforcing those laws
which had been made against them by his predecessors. This en-
raged the papists to such a degree, that a conspiracy was formed, by
some of the principal leaders, of the most daring and impious nature;
namely," to blow up the king, royal family, and both houses of parlia-
ment, while in full session, and thus to involve the nation in utter and
inevitable ruin.
The cabal who formed the resolution of putting in practice this hor-
rid scheme, consisted of the following persons: — Henry Garnet, an
Englishman, who, about tho year 1586, had been sent to England as
superior of the English Jesuits ; Catesby, an English gentleman ;
Tesmond, a Jesuit ; Thomas Wright ; two gentlemen of the name of
Winter ; Thomas Percy, a near relation of the earl of Northumber-
land ; Guido Fawkes, a bold and enterprising soldier of fortune ; Sir
Edward Digby ; John Grant, Esq. ; Francis Tresham, Esq. ; Robert
Keyes and Thomas Bates, gentlemen.
Most of these were men both of birth and fortune ; and Catesby,
who had a large estate, had already expended two thousand pounds
in several voyages to the court of Spain, in order to introduce an
army of Spaniards into England, for overturning the protestant go-
vernment, and restoring the Roman Catholic religion : but, being
disappointed in this project of an invasion, he took an opportunity of
disclosing to Percy (who was his intimate friend, and who, in a sudden
fit of passion, had hinted a design of assassinating the king) a nobler
and more extensive plan of treason, such as would include a sure ex-
ecution of vengeance, and, at one blow, consign nvpr to destruction
all their enemies.
Percy assented to the project proposed by Catesby, and they re-
solved to impart the matter to a few more, and, by degrees, to all the
UUiN POWDER PLOT. 513
rest of their cabal, every man being bound by an oath, and taking the
sacrament, (the most sacred rite of their rehgion,) not to disclose the
least syllable of the matter, or to withdraw from the association, with-
out the consent of all persons concerned.
These consultations were held in the spring and summer of the
year 1G04, and it was towards the close of that year that they began
their operations ; the manner of which, and the discovery, we shall
relate with as much brevity as is consistent with perspicuity.
It had been agreed, that a few of the conspirators should run a mine
below the hall in which the parliament was to assemble, and that they
should choose the very moment when the king should deliver his
speech to both houses, for springing the mine, and thus, by one blow,
cut off the king, the royal family, lords, commons, and all tlie other
enemies of the catholic religion, in that very spot where that religion
had been most oppressed. For this purpose, Percy, who was at that
time a gentleman-pensioner, undertook to hire a house adjoining to the
upper house of parliament, with all diligence. This was accordingly
done, and the conspirators expecting the parliament would meet on
the 17th of February following, began, on the 11th of Decem.ber, to
dig in the cellar, through the wall of partition, which was three yards
thick. There were seven in number joined in this labour : they Avent
in by night, and never after appeared in sight, for, having supplied
themselves with all necessary provisions, they had no occasion to go
out. In case of discovery, they had provided themselves with powder,
shot, and fire arms, and had formed a resolution rather to die than be
taken.
On Candlemas-day, 1605, they had dug so far through the wall as
to be able to hear a noise on the other side : upon which unexpected
event, fearing a discovery, Guido Fawkes, (wiio personated Percy's
footman,) was despatched to know the occasion, and returned with the
favourable report, that the place from whence the noise came was s
large cellar under the upper house of parliament, full of sea-coal,
which was then on sale, and the cellar offered to be let.
On this information, Percy immediately hired the cellar, and bought
the remainder of the coals : he then sent for thirty barrels of gunpow-
der from Holland, and landing them at Lambeth, conveyed them
gradually by night to this cellar, where they were covered with stones,
iron bars, a thousand billets, and five hundred fagots ; all which they
did at their leisure, the parliament being prorogued to the 5th of No-
vember.
This being done, the conspirators next consulted how they should
secure the duke of York,* who was too young to be expected at the
parliament house, and his sister, the Princess Elizabeth, educated at
Lord Harrington's, in Warwickshire. It was resolved, that Percy and
another should enter into the duke's chamber, and a dozen more, pro-
perly disposed at several doors, v.ith two or three on horseback at the
court-gate to receive him, should carry him safe away as soon as the
parliament-house was blown up ; or, if that could not be effected, tliat
they should kill him, and declare the Princess Elizabeth q;ieen, having
secured her, under pretence of a hunting-match, that day.
Several of the conspirators proposed obtaining foreign aid previous
* AfterwarJ CIrarles I
33
514 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
to the execution of their design ; but this was over-ruled, and it was
agreed only to apply to France, Spain, and other powers, for assist-
ance after the plot had taken effect ; they also resolved to proclaim
the princess Elizabeth queen, and to spread a report, after the blow
was given, that the puritans were the perpetrators of so inhuman an
action.
All matters being now prepared by the conspirators, they, without
the least remorse of conscience, and with the utmost impatience, ex-
pected the 5th of November. But all their counsels were blasted by
a happy and providential circumstance. One of the conspirators,
having a desire to save William Parker, Lord Monteagle, sent him
the following letter :
" My Lord,
" Out of the love I bear to some of your friends, I have a care for
your preservation; therefore I advise you, as you tender your life,
to devise you some excuse to shift off your attendance at this parlia-
ment ; for God and man have concurred to punish the wickedness of
this time : and think not slightly of this advertisement, but retire your-
self into the country, where you may expect the event with safety ;
for though there be no appearance of any stir, yet I say they shall
receive a terrible blow, this parliament, and yet they shall not see
who hurts them. This counsel is not to be contemned, because it may
do you good, and can do you no harm ; for the danger is past so soon
(or as quickly) as you burn this letter ; and I hope God will give you
the grace to make good use of it, to whose holy protection I com-
mend you."
The Lord Monteagle was, for some time, at a loss what judgment to
form of this letter, and unresolved whether he should slight the adver-
tisement or not ; and fancying it a trick of his enemies to frighten him
into an absence from parliament, would have determined on the for-
mer, had his own safely been only in question : but apprehending the
king's life might be in danger, he took the letter at midaight to the
earl of Salisbury, who was equally puzzled about the meaning of it ;
and though he was inclined to think it merely a wild and waggish con-
trivance to alarm Monteagle, yet he thought proper to consult about
it with the earl of Suffolk, lord chamberlain. The expression, " that
the blow should come, without knowing who hurt them," made them
imagine that it would not be more proper than the time of parliament,
nor by any other way likely to be attempted than by gunpowder, while
the king was sitting in that assembly : the lord chamberlain thought
this the more probable, because there was a great cellar under the par-
liament-chamber, (as already mentioned,) never used for any thing but
wood or coal, belonging to "Wineyard, the keeper of the palace ; and
having communicated the letter to the earls of Nottingham, Worces-
ter, and Northampton, they proceeded no farther till the king came
from Royston, on the 1st of November.
His majesty being shown the letter by the earls, who, at the same
time acquainted him with their suspicions, was of opinion that either
nothing should be done, or else enough to prevent the danger ; and
that a search should be made on the day preceding that designed for
the execution of the diabolical enterprise.
Accordingly, on Monday, H^. 4th of November, in the afternoon, the
GUNPOWDER PLOT. 515
lord chamberlain, A\hose oflice it was to see all things put in readiness
for the king's coming, accompanied by Monteagle, went to visit all
places about the prirliament-house, and taking a slight occasion to sen
the Cellar, observed on.;' piles of billets and fagots, but in greater num-
ber than he thought Wineyard could want for his own use. On his
asking who owned the wood, and being told it belonged to one Mr.
Percy, he began to have some suspicions, knowing him to be a rigid
papist, and so seldom there, that he had no occasion for such a quan-
tity of fuel ; and Monteagle confirmed him therein, by observing that
Percy had made him great professions of friendship.
Though there were no other materials visible, yet Suflblk thought
it was necessary to make a farther search ; and, upon his return to
the king, a resolution was taken that it should be made in such a man-
ner as should be effectual, without scandalizing any body, or giving
any alarm.
Sir Thomas Knevet, steward of Westminster, was accordingly or-
dered, under the pretext of searching for stolen tapestry hangings in
that place, and other houses thereabouts, to remove the wood, and see
if any thing was concealed underneath. This gentleman going at
midnight, with several attendants, to the cellar, met Fawkes, just com-
ing out of it, booted and spurred, with a tinder-box and three matches
in his pockets ; and seizing him without any ceremony, or asking him
any questions, as soon as the removal of the wood discovered the bar-
rels of gunpowder, he caused him to be bound, and properly secured.
Fawkes, who was a hardened and intrepid villain, made no hesitation
of avowing the design, and that it was to have been executed on the
morrow. He made the same acknoM'ledgment at his examination be-
fore a committee of the council; and though he did not deny having
some associates in this conspiracy, yet no threats of torture could make
him discover any of them, he declaring that "he was ready to die, and
had rather suffer ten thousand deaths, than willingly accuse his mas-
ter, or any other."
By repeated examinations, liowever, and assurances of his master's
being apprehended, he at length acknowledged, '' that whilst he was
abroad, Percy had kept the keys of the cellar, had been in it since the
powder had been laid there, and, in effect, that he was one of the prin-
cipal actors in the intended tragedy."
In the mean time it was found out, that Percy had come post out
of the north on Saturday night, the 2d of November, and had dined
on Monday at Sion-House, with the earl of Northumberland ; that
Fawkes had met him on the road ; and that, after the lord chamber-
lain had been that evening in the cellar, he went, about six o'clock, to
his master, who had fled immediately, apprehending the plot was de-
lected.
The news of the discovery immediately spreading, the conspirators
fled different ways, but chiefly into Warwickshire, where SirEverard
Digby had appointed a hunting-match, near Dunchurch, to get a num-
ber of recusants together, sufficient to seize the princess Elizabeth ; but
this design was prevented by her taking refuge in Coventry ; and their
whole party, making about one hundred, retired to Holbeach, the seat
of Sir Stephen Littleton, on the borders of Staffordshire, having bro-
ken open slables, and taken horses from different people in the ad-
joining counties
516 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Sir Richard Walsh, high sheriff of Worcestershire, pursued them
to Holbeach, where he invested them, and summoned them to surren-
der. In preparing for their defence, they put some moist powder
before a fire to dry, and a spark from the coals setting it on lire,
some of the conspirators Avere so burned in their faces, thighs, and
arms, that they were scarcely able to handle their weapons. Their
case was desperate, and no means of escape ap])caring, unless by
forcing .heir way through the assailants, they made a furious sally for
that purpose. Catesby (who first proposed the manner of the plot)
and Percy were both killed. Thomas Winter, Grant, Digby, Rook
wood, and Bates, were taken and carried to London, where the first
made a full discovery of the conspiracy. Tresham, lurking about
the city, and frequently shifting his quarters, w;as apprehended soon
after, and, having confessed the whole matter, died of the strangury,
in the tower. The earl of Norihumbeidand, suspected on account of
his being related to Thomas Percy, was, by way of precaution, com-
mitted to the custody of the archbishop of Canterbury, at Lambeth ;
and was afterwards fined thirty thousand pounds, and sent to the
tower, for admitting Percy into the band of gentlemen pensioners,
without tendering him the oath of supremacy.
Some escaped to Calais, and arriving there v/ith others who fled to
avoid a persecution which they apprehended on this occasion, were
kindly received by the governor ; but one of them declaring before
him, that he was not so much concerned at his exile, as that the pow-
der plot did not take effect, the governor was so much incensed at his
glorying in such an execrable piece of iniquity, that, in a sudden im-
pulse of indignation, he endeavoured to throw him into the sea.
On the 27th of January, 1606, eight of the conspirators were tried
and convicted ; among whom was Sir Everard Digby, the only one
that pleaded guilty to the indictment, though all the rest had confessed
their guilt before. Digby was executed on the 30th of the same
month, with Robert Winter, Grant, and Bates, at the west end of St.
Paul's church-yard : Thomas Winter, Keyes, Rookwood, and Fawkes,
were executed the following day in Old Palace yard.
Garnet was tried on the 28th of March, " for his knowledge and
concealment of the conspiracy ; for administering an oath of secrecy
to the conspirators ; for persuading them of the lawfulness of the
treason, and for praying for the success of the great action in hand at
the beginning of the parliament." Being found guilty,* he received
I sentence of death, but was not executed till the 3d of May, when, con-
fessing his own guilt, and the iniquity of the enterprise, he exhorted
all Roman Catholics (d abstain from the like treasonable practices in
future. Gerard and Hull, two Jesuits, got abroad; and Littleton,
with several others, were executed in the country.
The Lord Monteagle had a grant of two hundred pounds a year in
land, and a pension of five hundred ])ounds for life, as a reward foi
discovering the letter which gave the first hint of the conspiracy ;
and the anniversary of this providential deliverance was ordered to
be for ever commemorated by prayer and thanksgiving.
♦ Although Garnet was convicted of this horrible crime, yet the bigoted papists were
so besotted as to look upon him as an object of devotion ; they fancied that miracles
were wrought by his blood, and regarded him as a martyr ! *>uch is the deadening and
perverting influence of jiopery ! «
PERSECUTIONS IN IRELAND. 517
Thus was this diabolical scheme happily rendered abortive, and
the authors of it brought to that condign punishment which their wick-
edness merited. In this aflhir Providence manifestly interposed in
behalf of the protestants, and saved them from that destruction which
must have taken place had the scheme succeeded according to the
wishes of a bigoted, superstitious, and blood-thirsty taction.
SECTION III.
RISE AND PROGRESS OF THE PROTESTANT RELIGION IN IRELAND ; WITH
AN ACCOUNT OF THE BARBAROUS MASSACRE OF 1641.
The gloom of popery had overshadowed Ireland from its first
dsiablishment there till the reign of Henry VIII., M'hen the rays of
.he gospel began to dispel the darkness, and afford that light which
/lad till tnen been unknown in that island. The abject ignorance in
♦vnich the people were held, with the absurd and superstitious notions
ihey entertained, were suificiently evident to many ; and the artifices
of iheir priests were so conspicuous, that:~everal persons of distinction,
who had hitherto been strenuous papists, would willingly have endea-
A^oured to shake off' the yoke, and embrace the protestant religion ; but
the natural ferocity of the people, and their strong attachment to the
ridiculous doctrines which they had been taught, made the attempt
dangerous. It was, however, at length undertaken, though attended
with the most horrid and disastrous consequences.
The introduction of the protestant religion into Ireland may be
principally attributed to George Browne, an Englishman, who was
consecrated archbishop of Dublin on the 19th of March, 15.S5. He
had formerly been an Augustine friar, and was promoted to the mitre
on account of his merit.
After having enjoy c;d his dignity about five years, he, at the time
that Henry VIII. was suppressing the religious houses in England,
caused all the relics and images to be removed out of the two cathe-
drals in Dublin, and the other churches in his diocese ; in the place
of which he caused to be put up the Lord's prayer, the creed, and
the ten commandments.
A short time after this he received a letter from Thomas Cromwell,
lord privy-seal, informing him that Henry VIII. having thrown off" the
papal supremacy in England, was determined to do the like in Ire-
land ; and that he thereupon had appointed him (archbishop Browne)
one of the commissioners for seeing this order put in execution. The
archbishop answered, that he had employed his utmost endeavours,
at the hazard of his life, to cause the Irish nobility and gentry to ac-
knowledge Henry as their supreme head, in matters both spiritual
and temporal ; but had met with a most violent opposition, especially
from George, archbishop of Armagh ; that this prelate had, in a speech
to his clergy, laid a curse on all those who should own his highness's*
supremacy; adding, that their isle, called in the Chronicles Insula
♦ The king of England was at tliat time called highness, not majesty, as at present.
518 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Sacra, or the Holy Island, belonged to none but the bishop of Rome,
and that the king's progenitors had received it from the pope. He
observed likewise, that the archbishop, and the clergy of Armagh, had
each despatched a courier to Rome ; and that it would be necessary
for a parliament to be called in Ireland, to pass an act of supremacy
the people not regarding the king's commission without the sanction
of the legislative assembly. He concluded with observing, that the
popes had kept the people in the most profound ignorance ; that the
clergy Avere exceedingly illiterate ; that the common people were
more zealous, in their blindness, than the saints and martyrs had been
in the defence of truth at the beginning of the gospel ; and that it
was to be feared Shan O'Neal, a chieftain of great po\ver in the
northern part of the island, was decidedly opposed to the king's
commission.
In pursuance of this advice, the following year a parliament was
summoned to meet at Dublin, by order of Leonard Grey, at that time
lord-lieutenant. At this assembly Archbishop Browne made a speech,
in which he set forth, that the bishops of Rome used, anciently, to
acknowledge emperors, kings, and princes, to be supreme in their
own dominions ; and, therefore, that he himself would vote King
Henry VIIL as supreme in all matters, both ecclesiastical and tem-
poral. He concluded with saying, that whosoever should refuse to
vote for this act, was not a true subject of the king. This speech
greatly startled the other bishops and lords ; but at length, after vio-
lent debates, the king's supremacy was allowed.
Two years after this the archbishop wrote a second letter to Lord
Cromwell, complaining of the clergy, and hinting at the machina-
tions Avhich the pope was then carrying on against the advocates of
the gospel. This letter is dated from Dublin, in April, 1538; and
among other matters, the archbishop says, " A bird may be taught to
speak with as much sense as many of the clergy do in this country.
These, though not scholars, yet are crafty to cozen the poor com-
mon people, and to dissuade them from following his highness's or-
ders. The country folk here much hate your lordship, and despite-
fuUy call you, in their Irish tongue, the Blacksmith's Son. As a
friend, I desire your lordship to look to your noble person. Rome
hath a great kindness for the duke of Norfolk, and great favours for
this nation, purposely to oppose his highness."
A short time after this, the pope sent over to Ireland (directed to
the archbishop of Armagh and his clergy) a bull of excommunica-
tion against all who had, or should own the king's supremacy within
the Irish nation ; denouncing a curse on all of them, and theirs, who
should not, within forty days, acknowledge to their confessors, tha'
they had done amiss in so doing.
Archbishop Browne gave notice of this in a letter, dated, Dublin.
May, 1538. Part of the form of confession, or vow, sent over to
these Irish papists, ran as follows : " I do farther declare, him or her,
father or mother, brother or sister, son or daughter, husband or wife,
uncle or aunt, nephew or niece, kinsman or kinswoman, master oi
mistress, and all others, nearest or dearest relations, friend or ac-
quaintance whatsoever, accursed, that either do or shall hold, for the
time to come, any ecclesiastical or civil power above the authority of
the mother church ; or that do or shall obey, for the time to come.
PERSECUTIONS IN IRELAND. 51 9
i«ny of her the mother of churches opposers or enemies, or v.cnlrary
to the same, of which I have liere sworn unto : so God, the Blessed
Virgin, St. Peter, St. Paul, and the Holy Evangelists, help me, Ac."
This is an exact agreement with the doctrines promulgated by the
councils of Lateran and Constance, which expressly declare, that no
favour should be shown to heretics, nor faith ke]>t Avith them ; that
they ought to be excommunicated and condemned, and tlieir estates
confiscated ; and that princes are obliged, by a solemn oath, to root
them out of their respective dominions.
How abominable a church must that be, which thus dares to tram-
ple upon all authority! how besotted the people who regard the in-
junctions of such a church !
In the archbishop's last mentioned letter, dated May, 1538, he
says, " His highness's viceroy of this nation is of little or no power
with the old natives. Now both English and Irish begin to oppose
your lordship's orders, and to lay aside their national quarrels, which
I fear will (if any thing will) cause a foreigner to invade this nation."
Not long after this, Archbishop Browne seized one Thady O'Brian,
a Franciscan friar, who had in his possession a paper sent from Rome,
dated May, 1538, and directed to O'Neal. In this letter were the
following words : " His holiness, Paul, now pope, and the council of
the fathers, have lately found, in Rome, a prophecy of one St. La-
cerianus, an Irish bishop of Cashel, in which he saith, that the mo-
ther church of Rome falleth, when, in Ireland, the catholic faith is
overcome. Therefore, for the glory of the mother church, the ho-
nour of St. Peter, and your own secureness, suppress heresy, and his
holiness's enemies."
This Thady O'Brian, after farther examination and search made,
was pilloried, and kept close prisoner, till the king's orders arrived
in wliat manner he should be farther disposed of. But order coming
over irom England that he was to be hanged, he laid violent hand
on himself in the castle of Dublin. His body was afterwards carrit
to Gallows-green, where, after being hanged up for some time, it wa
interred.
After the accession of Edward VI. to the throne of England, ai
order was directed to Sir Anthony Leger, the lord-deputy of Ireland,
commanding that the liturgy in English be forthwith set up in Ireland,
there to be observed within the several bishoprics, cathedrals, and
parish churches ; and it was first read in Christ-church, Dublin, on
Easter day, 1551, before the said Sir Anthony, Archbishop Browne,
and others. Part of the royal order for this purpose was as follows*
" Whereas, '.ur gracious father. King Henry VIII. taking into conside-
ration the bondage and heavy yoke that his true and faithful subjects
sustained, under the jurisdiction of the bishop of Rome ; how several
fabulous stories and lying wonders misled our subjects; dispensing
with the sins of our nations, by their indulgences and pardons, for
gain ; purposely to cherish all evil vices, as robberies, rebellions,
theft, whoredoms, blasphemy, idolatry, &.c. our gracious father here-
upon dissolved all priories, monasteries, abbeys, and other pretended
religious houses ; as being but nurseries for vice or luxury, more than
for sacred learning," &c.
On the day after the common-prayer was first used in Christ-church,
Dublin, the following wicked scheme was projected by the papists :
520 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
In tlie church was left a marble image of Christ, holding a reed in
his hand, with a crown of thorns on his head. Whilst the English ser-
vice (the Common Prayer) was being read before the lord-lieutenant,
the archbishop of Dublin, the privy-council, the lord-mayor, and a
great congregation, blood was seen to run through the crevices of the
crown of thorns, and to trickle down the face of the image. On this,
some of the contrivers of the imposture cried aloud : " See how our
Saviour's image sweats blood ! But it must necessarily do this, since
heresy is come into the church." Immediately many of the lower
order of people, indeed the vulgar of all ranks, were terrified at the
sight of so miraculous and undeniable an evidence of the divine dis-
pleasure ; they hastened from the church, convinced that the doc-
trines of protestantism emanated from an infernal source, and that
salvation was only to be found in the bosom of their own infallible
church.
This incident, however ludicrous it may appear to the enlightened
reader, had great influence over the minds of the ignorant Irish, and
answered the ends of the impudent impostors who contrived it, so far
as to check the progress of the reformed religion in Ireland very ma-
terially ; many persons could not resist the conviction that there were
many errors and corruptions in the Romish church, but they were
awed into silence by this pretended manifestation of Divine wrath,
Avhich was magnified beyond measure by the bigoted and interested
priesthood.
We have very few particulars as to the state of religion in Ireland
during the remaining portion of the reign of Edward VI. and the greater
part of that of Mary. Towards the conclusion of the barbarous sway
of that relentless bigot, she attempted to extend her inhuman perse-
cutions to this island ; but her diabolical intentions were happily frus-
trated in the following providential manner, the particulars of which
arc related by historians of good authority.
Mary had appointed Dr. Cole (an agent of the blood-thirsty Bon-
ner) one of the commissioners for carrying her barbarous intentions
into effect. He having arrived at Chester with his commission, the
mayor of that city, being a papist, waited upon him ; when the doctor
taking out of his cloak-bag a leathern case, said to him, "Here is a
commission that shall lash the heretics of Ireland." The good woman
of the house being a protestLnt, and having a brother in Dublin, named
John Edmunds, Avas greatly troubled at what she heard. But watch-
ing her opportunity, v\'hilst the mayor was taking his leave, and the
doctor politely accompanying him down stairs, she opened the box,
took out the commission, and in its stead laid a sheet of paper, with a
pack of cards, and the knave of clubs at top. The doctor, not sus-
pecting the trick that had been played him, put up the box, and ar-
rived with it in Dublin, in September, 1558.
Anxious to accomplish the intentions of his " pious^^ mistress, he
immediately waited upon Lord Fitz-Walter, at that time viceroy, and
presented the box to him ; which being opened, nothing was found in
it but a pack of cards. This startling all the persons present, his lord-
■ship said, " We must procure another commission ; and in the mean
time let us shuffle the cards !"
Dr. Cole, however, would have directly returned to England to get
&aother commission ; but waiting for a favourable wind, news arrived
♦ REFORMATION IN IRELAND. 521
^^- \i Queen Mary was dead, and by this means the proteslants escaped
a w\;ost cruel persecution. The above relation as we before observed,
is <,onnnned by historians of the greatest credit, who add, that Queen
Ehv.cueln settled a pension of forty pounds per annum upon the above
iTienuoiied Elizabeth Edmunds, for having thus saved the lives of he»-
protesidut subjects.
Durniff ihe reigns of Elizabeth and of James I. Ireland was almost
constantly agitated by rebellions and insurrections, which, although
not always taking their rise from the dillerence of religious opinions
between the English and Irish, were aggravated and rendered more
bitter and irreconcilable from that cause. The popish priests artfully
exaggerated the faults of the English government, and continually
urged to their ignorant and prejudiced hearers the lawfulness of killing
the protestunts, assuring them that all catholics who were slain in the
prosecution of so pious an enterprise, would be immediately received
into everlasting felicity. The naturally ungovernable dispositions of
the Irish, acted upon by these designing men, drove them into con-
tinual acts of barbarous and unjustifiable violence ; and it must be con-
fessed that the unsettled and arbitrary nature of the authority exer-
cised by the English governors, was but little calculated to gain their
affections. The Spaniards, too, by landing forces in the south, and
giving every encouragement to the discontented natives to join their
standard, kept the island in a continual state of turbulence and war-
fare. In 1601, they disembarked a body of 4000 men at Kinsale, and
commenced what they called ^'■the holy war, for the preservation of the
faith in Irelar^d ;'^ they were assisted by great numbers of the Irish,
but were at length totally defeated by the deputy, Lord Mountjoy, and
his officers.
This closed the transactions of Elizabeth's reign with respect to Ire-
land ; an interval of apparent tranquillity followed, but the popish priest-
nood, ever restless and designing, sought to undermine by secret ma-
chinations, that government and that faith which they durst no longer
openly attack. The pacific reign of James afforded them the oppor-
tunity of increasing their strength and maturing their schemes ; and
under his successor, Charles I., their numbers were greatly increased
by titular Romish archbishops, bishops, deans, vicars-general, abbots,
priests, and friars; for which reason, in 1629, the public exercise of
the popish rites and ceremonies was forbidden.
But notwithstanding this, soon afterwards the Romish clergy erect-
ed a new popish university in the city of Dublin. They also pro-
ceeded to build monasteries and nunneries in various parts of the king-
dom ; in which places these very Romish clergy, and the chiefs of the
Irish, held frequent meetings : and, from thence, used to pass to and
fro, to France, Spain, Flanders, Lorrain, and Rome ; where the de-
testable plot of 1641 was hatching by the family of the O'Neals and
their followers.
A short time before the horrid conspiracy broke out, which we are
now going to relate, the papists in Ireland had presented a remon-
strance to the lords-justiies of that kingdom, demanding the free ex-
ercise of their religion, and a repeal of all laws to the contrary ; to
which both houses of parlivXment in England solemnly answered, that
they would never grant an)- toleration to the popish religion in that
kingdom.
^22 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
This farther irritated the papists to put in execution thp. diabolical
plot concerted for the destruction of the protestants ; and it failed not
of the success wished for by its malicious and rancorous projectors.
The design of this horrid conspiracy was, that a general insurrec-
tion should take place at the same time throughout the kingdom ; and
that all the protestants, without exception, should be murdered. The
day fixed for this horrid massacre, was the 23d of October, 1641, the
feast of Ignatius Loyola, founder of the Jesuits ; and tlie chief con-
spirators, in the principal parts of the kingdom, made the necessary
preparations for the intended conflict.
In order that this detested scheme might the more infallibly succeed,
the most distinguished artifices were practised by the papists; and their
behaviour, in their visits to the protestants, at this time, was with more
seeming kindness than they had hitherto shown, which was done the
more completely to effect the inhuman and treacherous designs then
meditating against them.
The execution of this savage conspiracy was delayed till the ap-
proach of winter, that sending troops from England might be attend-
ed with greater difficulty. Cardinal Richelieu, the French minister,
had promised the conspirators a considerable supply of men and
money ; and many Irish officers had given the strongest assurances
that they would heartily concur with their Catholic brethren, as soon
as the insurrection took place.
The day preceding that appointed for carrying this horrid design
into execution was now arrived, when, happily for the metropolis of
the kingdom, the conspiracy was discovered by one Owen O'Con-
nelly, an Irishman, for which most signal service the English parlia-
ment voted him 500Z. and a pension of 200Z. during his life.
So very seasonably was this ploi discovered, even but a {ew hours
before the city and castle of Dublin were to have been surprised, that
the lords-justices had but just time to put themselves, and the city, in
a proper posture of defence. The Lord M'Guire, who was the princi-
pal leader here, with his accomplices, were seized the same evening in
the city ; and in their lodgings were found swords, hatchets, pole-axes,
hammers, and such other instruments of death as had been prepared
for the destruction and extirpation of the protestants in that part of
the kingdom.
Thus was the metropolis happily preserved ; but the bloody part ot
the intended tragedy was past prevention. The conspirators were in
arms all over the kingdom early in the morning of the day appointed,
and every protestant who fell in their way was immediately murdered.
No age, no sex, no condition, was spared. The wife weeping for her
butchered husband, and embracing her helpless children, was piercea
with them, and perished by the same stroke. The old, the young,
the vigorous, and the infirm, underwent the same fate, and were blend-
ed in one common ruin. In vain did flight save from the first assault;
destruction was every where let loose, and met the hunted victims at
every turn. In vain was recourse had to relations, to companions, to
friends ; all connexions were dissolved, and death was dealt by that
hand from which protection was implored and expected. Without
provocation, without opposition, the astonished Englisli, living in pro-
found peace, and, as they thought, full security, were massacred by
their nearest neighbours, with whom they had long maintained a con-
IRISH MASSACRE. 523
tinned intercourse of kindness and good ofllccs. Nay, even death
was the slightest punishment inflicted by these monsters in human
form; all the tortures which wanton cruelly could invent, all the lin-
gering pains of body, the anguish of mind, tlie agonies of despair,
could not satiate revenge excited M'ithout injury, and cruelly derived
from no just cause whatever. Depraved nature, even perverted reli-
gion, though encouraged by the utmost license, cannot reach to a
greater pitch of ferocity than appeared in these merciless barba-
rians. Even the weaker sex themselves, naturally tender to their own
sufferings, and compassionate to those of others, here emulated their
•robust companions in the practice of every cruelty. The very chil-
dren, taught by example, and encouraged by the exhortation of their
parents, dealt their feeble blows on the dead carcasses of the defence-
less children of the English.
Nor was the avarice of the Irish sufficient to produce the least re-
straint on their cruelty. Such was their frenzy, that the cattle they
had seized, and by rapine had made their own, were, because they
bore the name of English, wantonly slaughtered, or, when covered
with wounds, turned loose into the woods, there to perish by slow and
lingering torments.
The commodious habitations of the planters were laid in ashes, or
levelled with the ground. And where the wretched owners had shut
themselves up in the houses, and were preparing for defence, they
perished in the flames together with their wives and children.
Such is the general description of this unparalleled massacre ; but
it now remains, from the nature of our work, that we proceed to par-
ticulars.
The bigoted and merciless papists had no sooner begun to imbrue
their hands in blood, than they repeated the horrid tragedy day after
day, and the protestants in all parts of the kingdom fell victims to their
fury by deaths of the most unheard of cruelty.
The ignorant Irish were more strongly instigated to execute the in-
fernal business by the Jesuits, priests, and friars, who, when the day
for the execution of the plot was agreed on, recommended in their
prayers, diligence in the great design, which they said would greatly
tend to the prosperity of the kingdom, and to the advancement of the
Catholic cause. They every where declared to the common people,
that the protestants were heretics, and ought not to be suffered to live
any longer among them ; adding, that it was no more sin to kill an
Englishman than to kill a dog; and that the relieving or protecting
them was a crime of the most unpardonable nature.
The papists having besieged the town and castle of Longford, and
the inhabitants of the former, who were protestants, surrendering on
condition of being allowed quarter, the besiegers, the instant the
towns-people appeared, attacked them in the most unmerciful manner,
their priest, as a signal for the rest to fall on, first ripping open the
belly of the English protestant minister; after which his followers
murdered all the rest, some of whom they hung, others were stabbed
or shot, and great numbers knocked on the head with axes provided
for the purpose.
The garrison of Sligo was treated in like manner by O'Conner Sly-
gah, who, upon the protestants quitting their holds, promised them
quarter, and to convey them safe over the Curlew mountains, to Ros
524 BOOK OP MARTYRS.
coinmon. But he first imprisoned thsm in a most loathsome gao.
allowing them only grains for their food. Afterwards, Avhen some pa
pibts Avere merry over their cups, who were come to congratulate thei^
wicked brethren for their victory over these unhappy creatures, thosp
protestants who survived were brought forth by the white friars, ano
were either killed, or precipitated over the bridge into a swift water
where they were soon destroyed. It is added that this wicked com-
pany o" white friars went some time after in solemn procession, with
holy \v„ter in their hands to sprinkle the river, on pretence of cleans-
ing and purifying it from the stains and pollution of the blood and
dead bodies of the heretics, as they called the unfortunate protestants
who were inhumanly slaughtered at this time.
At Kilmore, Dr. Bedell, bishop of that see, had charitably settled
and supported a great number of distressed protectants, who had fled
from their habitations to escape the diabolical cruellies committed by
the papists. But they did not long enjoy the consolation of living
together ; the good prelate was forcibly dragged from his episcopal
residence, which was immediately occupied by Dr. Swiney, the po-
pish titular bishop of Kilmore, who said mass in the church the Sun-
day following, and then seized on all the goods and effects belonging
to the persecuted bishop.
Soon after this the papists forced. Dr. Bedell, his two sons, and the
rest of his family, with some of the chief of the protestants whom he
had protected, into a ruinous castle, called Lochwater, situated in a
lake near the sea. Here he remained with his companions some
weeks, all of them daily expecting to be put to death. The greater
part of them were stripped naked, by which means, as the season was
cold, (it being in the month of December,) and the building in which
they were confined open at the top, they suffered the most severe
hardships.
They continued in this situation till the 7th of January, when they
were all released. The bishop was courteously received into the
house of Dennis O'Sheridan, one of his clergy, whom he had made a
convert to the church of England ; but he did not long survive this
kindness.
During his residence here, he spent the whole of his time in reli-
gious exercises, the better to fit and prepare himself, and his sorrow-
ful companions, for their great change, as nothing but certain death
was perpetually before their eyes.
He was at this time in the 71st year of his age, and being afilicted
with a violent ague caught in his late cold and desolate habitation on
the lake, it soon threw him into a fever of the most dangerous nature.
Finding his dissolution at hand, he received it Avith joy, like one of
the primitive martyrs just hastening to his crown of glory. After
having addressed his little flock, and exhorted them to patience, in
the most pathetic manner, as they saw their own last day approach-
ing ; after having solemnly blessed his people, his family, and his
children, he finished the course of his ministry and life together, on
the 7th of February, 1642.
His friends and relations applied to the intruding bishop, for leave to
bury him, which was with difficulty obtained ; he, at first, telling them,
that the church-yard was holy ground, and should be no longer defiled
wMth heretics ; however, leave was at last granted, and though the
IRISH MASSACRE. 525
chnrcli funeral service was not used at the solemnity, (for fear of the
papists,) yet some of the better sort, who had the highest veneration
for him when living, attended his remains to the grave. At his inter-
ment, they discharged a volley of shot, crying out, Rcquicscat in pace
iiltimus Anglori/m : that is, "May the last of the English rest in
peace." Adding, that as he was one of the best, so he should be the
last English bishop found among them.
His learning was very extensive ; and he would have given the
world a greater proof of it, had he printed all he wrote. Scarce any
of his writings were saved ; tlie pajiists having destroyed most of his
papers and his library.
He had gathered a vast heap of critical expositions of Scripture, all
which, with a great trunk full of his manuscripts, fell into tl;e hands
of the Irish. Happily his great Hebrew MS, was preserved, and is
now in the library of Emanuel college, Oxford.
In the barony of Terawley, the papists, at the instigation of their
friars, compelled above 40 English protestants, some of whom were
women and children, to the hard fate eillicr of falling by the sword,
or of drowning in the sea. These choosing the latter, were accord-
ingly forced, by the naked weapons of tlieir inexorable persecutors,
into the deep, where, with their children in their arms, they first wa-
ded up to their chins, and afterwards sunk down and perished together.
In the castle ofLisgool upwards of 150 men, women, and children,
were all burnt together; and at the castle of Moneah not less than 100
were put to, the sword. Great numbers were also murdered at the
castle of Tullah, Avhich was delivered up to M'Guire, on condition of
having fair quarter ; but no sooner had that base villain got posses-
sion of the place, than he ordered his followers to murder the people,
which was immediately done with the greatest cruelty.
Many others were put to deaths of the most horrid nature, and such
as could have been invented only by demons instead of men.
Some of them were laid with the centre of their backs on the axle-
tree of a carriage, with their legs resting on the ground on one side,
and their arms and head on the other. In this position one of the
savages scourged the wretched object on the thighs, legs, «fcc. while
another set on furious dogs, who tore to pieces the arms and upper
parts of the body ; and in this dreadful manner were they deprived of
their existence.
Great numbers wers fastened to horses' tails, and the beasts being
set on full gallop by their riders, the wretched victims were dragged
along till they expired.
Others were hung on lofty gibbets, and a fire being kindled under
them, they finished their lives, partly by hanging, and partly by suf-
focation.
Nor did the more tender sex escape the least particle of cruelty
that could be projected by their merciless and furious persecutors.
Many women, of all ages, were put to deaths of the most cruel na-
ture. ■ Some, in particular, were fastened with their backs to strong
posts, and being stripped to the waist, the inhuman monsters cut
off their right breasts with shears, which, of course, put them to the
most excruciating torments ; and in this position they were left, till,
from the loss of blood, they expired.
Such was the savage ferocity of these barbarians, that even unborn
526 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
infajits were dragged from the womb to become victims to their rage.
Many unhappy mothers were hung naked on the branches of trees,
and their bodies being cut open, the innocent offspring was taken
from them, and thrown to dogs and swine. And to increase the hor-
rid scene, they would oblige the husband to be a spectator before he
suffered himself.
At the town of Lissenskeath, they hanged above 100 Scottish pro-
testants showing them no more mercy than they did to the English.
M'Guire, going to the castle of that town, desired to speak with
the governor, when being admitted, he immediately burnt the records
of the county, which were kept there. He then demanded £1000 of
the governor, which having received, he immediately compelled him
to hear mass, and to swear that he would continue so to do. And to
complete his horrid barbarities, he ordered the Avife and children of
the governor to be hung up before his face ; besides massacreing at
least 100 of the inhabitants.
Upwards of 1000 men, women, and children, were driven, in dif-
ferent companies, to Portendown bridge, which was broken in the
middle, and there compelled to throw themselves into the water; and
such as attempted to reach the shore were knocked on the head.
In the same part of the country, at least 4000 persons were drcwn-
ed in different places. The inhuman papists, after first stripping
them, drove them like beasts to the spot fixed for their destruction ;
and if any, through fatigue, or natural infirmities, were slack in theii
pace, they pricked them with their swords and pikes ; and to strike a
farther terror on the multitude, they murdered some by the way.
Many of these poor ci-eatures when thrown into the water endea-
voured to save themselves by swimming to the shore ; but their mer-
ciless persecutors prevented their endeavours taking effect, by shoot-
ing vhem in the water.
In one place 140 English, after being driven for many miles stark
naked, and in the most severe weather, were all murdered on the
same sjjot, some being hanged, others burnt, some shot, and many of
them buried alive; and so cruel were their tormentors, that they would
not suffer them to pray before they robbed them of their miserable
existence.
Other companies they took under pretence of safe conduct, who,
from that consideration, proceeded cheerfully on their journey ; but
when the treacherous papists had got them to a convenient spot, they
butchered them all in the most cruel manner.
One hundred and fifteen men, women, and children, were con-
ducted, by order of Sir Phelim O'Neal, to Portendown bridge, where
they were all forced into the river, and drowned. One woman,
named Campbell, finding no probability of escaping, suddenly clasped
one of the chief of the papists in her arms, and held him so fast, that
they were both drowned together.
In Killoman they massacred 48 families, among whom 22 were
burnt together in one house. The rest were either hanged, shot, or
drowned. '
In Killmore the inhabitants, which consisted of about 200 families
all fell victims to their rage. Some of the protestants were set in the
stocks till they confessed where their money was ; after which they
were put to death. The whole country was one common scene o^
IRISH MASSACRE. 527
butchery, and many thousands perished, in a short time, by sword,
famine, fire, water, and all other the most cruel deaths that rage and
malice could invent.
These inhuman villains showed so much favour to some as to dis-
patch them immediately ; but they would by no means suffer them to
pray. Others they imprisoned in filthy dungeons, putting heavy bolts
on their legs, and keeping them there till they were starved to death.
At Cashel they put all the prolestants into a loathsome dungeon,
where they kept them together for several weeks in the greatest
misery. At length they were released, when some of them were
barbarously mangled, and left on the highways to perish at leisure ;
others were hanged, and some were buried in the ground upright,
with their heads above the earth, the papists, to increase their misery,
treating them with derision during their sufferings.
In the county of Antrim they murdered 954 protestants in one
morning ; and afterwards about 1200 more in that county.
At a town called Lisnegary, they forced 24 protestants into a house,
and then setting fire to it, burned them together, counterfeiting their
outcries in derision to others.
Among other acts of cruelty, they took two children belonging to
an Englishwoman, and dashed out their brains before her face ; after
which they threw the mother into a river, and she was drowned.
They served many other children in the like manner, to the great
aflliction of their parents, and the disgrace of human nature.
In Kilkenny all the protestants, without exception, were put to
death ; and some of them in so cruel a manner, as, perhaps, was
never before thought of.
They beat an Englishwoman with such savage barbarity, that she
had scarce a whole bone left ; after which they threw her into a ditch ;
but not satisfied with this, they took her child, a girl about six years
of age, and after ripping up its belly, threw it to its mother, there to
languish till it perished.
They forced one man to go to mass, after which they ripped open
his body, and in that manner left him. They sawed another asunder,
cut the throat of his wife, and after having dashed out the brains of
their child, an infant, threw it to the swine, who greedily devoured it.
After committing these and many other horrid cruelties, they took
the heads of seven pro'estants. and among them that of a pious minis-
ter, all which they fixed up at the market cross. They put a gag
into the minister's mouth, then slit his cheeks to his ears, and laying
a leaf of a bible before it, bid him preach, for his mouth was wide
enough. They did several other things by way of derision, and ex-
pressed the greatest satisfaction at having thus murdered and exposed
the unhappy protestants.
It is impossible to conceive the pleasure these monsters took in ex-
ercising their cruelty ; and to increase the misery of those who fell
into their hands, while they were butchering them, they would cry,
" Your soul to the devil !"
One of the miscreants would come into a house with his hands im-
brued in blood, and boast that it was English blood, and that his
sword had pricked the white skin of the protestants, even to the hilt.
When any one of them had killed a protestant, others would come
and receive a gratification in cutting and mangling the body : after
528 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
which they left il to he devoured hy dogs ; and when they had slain
a number of tliem, they woukl boast tliat the devil was beholden to
them for sending so many souls to hell !
But it is no Avonder they should thus treat the innocent Christians,
when they hesitated not to commit blasphemy against God and his
most holy word.
In one place they burnt two protestant Bibles, and then said they
had burnt hell-fire. In the church at Powerscourt, they burnt the
pulpit, pews, chests, and Bibles, belonging to it. They took other
Bibles, and after wetting them with dirty water, dashed them in the
faces of the protestants, saying, "We know you love a good lesson ;
here is an excellent one for you; come to-morrow, and you shall have
as good a sermon as this."
Some of the protestants they dragged by the hair of their heads
into the church, where they stripped and whipped them in the most
cruel manner, telling them, at the same time, "That if they came to-
morrow, they should hear the like sermon."
In Munster they put to death several ministers in the most shock-
ing manner. One, in particular, they stripped stark naked, and dri-
ving him before them, pricked him with swords and pikes, till he fell
down, and expired.
In some places they plucked out the eyes, and cut off the hands of
the protestants, and in that condition turned them into the fields, there
to linger out the remainder of their miserable existence.
They obliged many young men to force their aged parents to a river,
where they were drowned ; wives to assist in hanging their husbands ;
and mothers to cut the throats of their children.
In one place they compelled a young man to kill his father, and
then immediately hanged him. In another they forced a woman to
kill her husband, then obliged her son to kill her, and afterwards shot
him through the head.
At a place called Glasgow, a popish priest, with some others, pre-
vailed on 40 protestants to be reconciled to the church of Rome, under
the vain hope of saving their lives. They had 1:0 sooner done this,
than the deceivers told them they were in a good faith, and that they
would prevent their falling from it, and turning heretics, by sending
them out of the world ; which they did by immediately cutting their
throats.
In the county of Tipperary, a great number of protestants, men.
women, and children, fell into the hands of the papists, who, aftei
stripping them naked, murdered them vidth stones, pole-axes, swords,
and other weapons.
In the county of Mayo, about 60 protestants, 15 of whom were
ministers, were, upon covenant, to be safely conducted to Gal way, by
one Edmund Burke, and his soldiers ; but that inhuman monster by
the way drew his sword, as an intimation of his design to the rest,
who immediately followed his example, and murdered the whole, some
of whom they stabbed, others were run through the body with pikes,
and several were drowned.
In Queen's county great numbers of protestants were put to the
most shocking deaths. Fifty or sixty were confined together in one
house, which being set on fire, they all perished in the flames.
Many were stripped naked, and being fastened to horses by ropes
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Cruelties in Ireland. Page 518-
Cruelties in Ireland. Page 525.
Cruelties m Ireland. Pat^e 529.
IRISH MASSACRE. 529
placed round their middles, were dragged through bogs till they ex-
pired.
Some were hung by the feet to tenter-hooks driven into poles, and
in that wretched posture left till they perished.
Others were fastened to the trunk, of a tree, with a branch at the top.
Over this branch hung one arm, which principally supported the
weight of the body ; and one of the legs was turned up, and fastened
to the trunk, while the other hung straight. In this dreadful and un-
easy posture did they remain, as long as life would permit, pleasing
spectacles to their blood-thirsty persecutors.
At Clownes 17 men were buried alive; and an Englishman, his
wife, five children, and a servant maid, were all hung together, and
afterAvards thrown into a ditch.
They hung many by the arms to branches of trees, with a weight
to their feet ; and others by the middle, in which postures they left
them till they expired.
Several were hung on windmills, and before they were half dead,
the barbarians cut them in pieces with their swords. Others, both
men, wom.en, and children, they cut and hacked in various parts of
their bodies, and left them wallowing in their blood, to perish where
they fell. One poor woman they hung on a gibbet, with her child, an
infant about a twelvemonth old, the latter of whom was hung by the
neck with the hair of its mother's head, and in that manner finished
its short but miserable existence.
In the county of Tyrone no less than 300 protestants were drowned
in one day ; and many others were hanged, burned, and otherwise
put to death.
Dr. Maxwell, rector of Tyrone, lived at this time near Armagh, and
suffered greatly from these merciless savages. This clergyman, in
his examination, taken upon oath before the king's commissioners,
declared, that the Irish papists owned to him, that they had destroy-
ed, in one place, at Glynwood, 12,000 protestants, in their flight frona
the coimty of Armagh.
As the river Bann was not fordable, and the bridge broken down,
the Irish forced thither, at different times, a great number of unarmed,
defenceless protestants, and with pikes and swords violently thrust
above 1000 into the river, where they miserably perished.
Nor did the cathedral of Armagh escape the fury of these barbari-
ans, it being maliciously set on fire by their leaders, and burnt to the
ground. And to extirpate, if possible, the very race of those unhappy
protestants, who lived in or near Armagh, the Irish first burnt all their
houses, and then gathered together many hundreds of those innocent
people, young and old, on pretence of allowing them a guard and
safe conduct to Coleraine ; when they treacherously fell on them by
the way, and inhumanly murdered them.
The like horrid bai-barities with those we have particularized, were
practised on the wretched protestants in almost all parts of the king-
dom ; and, when an estimate was afterwards made of the number
who were sacrificed to gratify the diabolical souls of the papists, it
amounted to 150,000. But it now remains that we proceed to the
particulars that follow.
These desperate Avrctches, flushed and grown insolent with svt-
cess, (though attained by metliods attended with such excessive bu-
34
•530 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
barities as perhaps are not to be equalled) soon got possession of the
castle of Newry, where the king's stores and ammunition were lodged ;
and, with as little di/Hculty, made themselves masters of Dundalk.
They afterwards took the town of Ardee, w^here they murdered al'
the protestants, and then proceeded to Drogheda. The garrison oi
Drogheda was in no condition to sustain a siege; notwithstanding
which, as often as the Irish renewed their attacks, they were vigo-
rously repulsed, by a very unequal number of the king's forces, and a
{ew faithful protestant citizens, under Sir Henry Tichborne, the go-
vernor, assisted by the Lord Viscount Moore. The siege of Drog-
heda began on the 30th of November, 1641, and held till the 4th of
March, 1642, when Sir Phelim O'Neal, and the Irish miscreants under
him, were forced to retire.
In the mean time, 10,000 troops were sent from Scotland to the re-
lief of the remaining protestants in Ireland, which being properly
divided into various parts of the kingdom, happily su]:piessed the
power of the Irish savages, and the protestants, for several years,
lived in tranquillity.
After James II. had abandoned England, he maintained a contest
for some time in Ireland, where he did all in his power to carry on that
persecution which he had been happily prevented from persevering
in in England ; accordingly, in a parliament held at Dublin, in the
year 1689, great numbers of the protestant nobility, clergy, and gentry
of Ireland, were attainted of high treason. The government of the
kingdom was, at that time, invested in the earl of Tyrconnel, a bigot-
ed papist, and an inveterate enemy to the protestants. By his orders
they were again persecuted in various parts of the kingdom. The
revenues of the city of Dublin were seized, and most of the churches
converted into prisons. And had it not been for the resolution, and
uncommon bravery of the garrisons in the city of Londonderry, and
the town of Inniskillen, there had not one place remained for refuge
to the distressed protestants in the whole kingdom, but all must have
been given up to King James, and to the furious popish party that go-
verned him.
The remarkable siege of Londonderry was opened on the 18th of
April, 1689, by 20,000 papists, the flower of the Irish army. The
city was not properly circumstanced to sustain a siege, the defenders
consisting of a body of raw, undisciplined protestants, who had fled
thither for shelter, and half a regiment of Lord Mountjoy's disciplined
soldiers, with the principal part of the inhabitants, making, in all, only
7361 fighting men.
The besieged hoped, at first, that their stores of corn, and other ne-
cessaries, would be sufficient; but by the continuance of the siege
their wants increased ; and these at last became so heavy, that, for a
considerable time before the siege was raised, a pint of coarse barley,
a small quantity of greens, a few spoonsful of starch, with a very
moderate portion of horse flesh, were reckoned a week's provision
for a soldier. And they were, at length, ^'educed to such extremities,
that they ate dogs, cats, and mice.
Their miseries increasing with the siege, mai:y, through mere hun-
ger and want, pined and languished away, or (et Jead in the streets ;
and it is remarkable, that when their long expejted :='uccours arrived
from England, they were upon the point of oeing reduced to tliis
SIEGE OF LONDONDERRY. 53 1
alternative, either to preserve their existence by eating each other, or
attempting to fight their way through the Irish, which must have in
fdlhbly produced their destruction.
These succours were most happily brought by the ship Mountjoy,
of Derry, and the Phoenix, of Coleraine, at which time they had only
nine lean horses left, with a pint of meal to each man. By hunger,
and the fatigues of war, their 7361 fighting men were reduced to
4300, one fourth part of whom were rendered unserviceable.
As the calamities of the besieged were very great, so likewise were
the terrors and sufferings of their protestant friends and relations ; all
of whom (even women and children) were forcibly driven from the
country 30 miles round, and inhumanly reduced to the sad necessity
of continuing some days and nights, without food or covering, before
the walls of the town, and were thus exposed to the continual fire
both of the Irish army from without, and the shot of their friends
from within.
But the succours from England happily arriving, put an end to their
affliction, and the siege was raised on the 31 st of July, having been
continued upwards of three months.
The day before the siege of Londonderry was raised, the Inniskil-
leners engaged a body of 6000 Irish Roman Catholics, at Newton,
Butler, or Crown Castle, of whom near 5000 were slain. This, with
the defeat at Londonderry, so much dispirited the papists, that they
gave up all farther attempts at that time to persecute the protestants.
In the year following, 1690, the Irish who had taken up arms in
favour of James II. were totally defeated by William the Third ; and
that monarch, before he left the country, reduced them to a state of
subjection, in whicl? they very long continued, at least so far as to re-
frain from open violence, although they were still insidiously engaged
in increasing their power and influence ; for, by a report made in the
year 1731, it appeared, that a great number of ecclesiastics had, ii
defiance of the laws, flocked into Ireland ; that several convents hac,
been opened by Jesuits, monks, and friars ; that many new and pom
pous mass houses had been erected in some of the most conspicuous
parts of their great cities, where there had not been any before; and
that such swarms of vagrant immoral Romish priests had appeared,
tliat the very papists themselves considered them as a burden.
But, notwithstanding all the arts cf priestcraft, all the tumid and
extravagant harangues of Hibernian orators, and the gross and wilful
misrepresentations of their self-styled liberal abettors in this country,
the protestant religion now stands on a firmer basis in Ireland than it
ever before did. The Irish, who formerly led an unsettled and roving
life, in the woods, bogs, and mountains, and lived on the depredation
of their neighbours ; they Avho in the morning seized the prey, and
at night divided the spoil, have, for many years past, become compa-
ratively quiet and civilized. They taste the sweets of English society
and the advantages of civil government.
The heads of their clans,, and the chiefs of the great Irish families,
who cruelly oppressed and tyrannized over their vassals, are now dwin-
dled, in a great measure, to nothing, and most of the ancient popish
nobility and gentry of Ireland have renounced the Romish religion.
It is also to be hoped, that inestimable benefits will arise from
establishment of protestant schools in various parts of the
^ BOOK OF MARTYRS
flora, in which the children of the Roman Catholics are instructed in
religion and literature, whereby the mist of ignorance is dispelled,
which was the great source of the cruel transactions that have taken
place, at different periods, in that kingdom ; and this is sufficiently
proved by the fact, that those parts of the country which have been
disgraced by the most horrible outrages, are those in which the most
profound ignorance and bigotry still prevail.
In order to preserve the protestant interest in Ireland upon a solid
basis, it behoves all in whom power is invested, to discharge their
respective duties with the strictest assiduity and attention ; tempering
justice with mercy, and firmness with conciliation. They should en-
deavour rather to gain the hearts of the people by kindness than to
enslave thetn by fear ; and to show them that the ministers of the
protestant religion are more estimable, instead of more powerful,
than the Romish clergy. A single voluntary proselyte is worth a
thousand converts to " the holy text of pike and gun."
SECTION IV.
ACCOtTNT OF THE HORRID PLOT CONCERTED BY THE PAPISTS, FOR DE-
STROYING THE CITY OF LONDON BY FIRE, IN THE YEAR 1666.
Stimulated by revenge, and prompted by superstition, the papists
unceasingly turned their thoughts to obtain their long-wished-for pur-
pose, the overthrow of the protestant religion, and the destruction
of its adherents in England.
Having failed in several efforts, they thought of a scheme for de-
stroying the capital of the kingdom, which they flattered themselves
might greatly facilitate their intentions ; but although, unhappily,
their diabolical scheme, in some measure, took place, yet it Avas not
productive of the consequences they hoped and wished for. A great
part of the city was, indeed destroyed ; the melancholy particulars of
wliich we shall copy from the London Gazette, published at the time:
" Whitehall, September 8, 1666.
" On the second instant, at one of the clock in the morning, there
happened to break out a sad aad deplorable fire, at a baker's, in Pud-
ding-lane, near Fish-street, which falling out at that hour of the night,
and in a quarter of the town so close built with wooden pitched
houses, spread itself so far before day, and with such distraction to
the inhabitants and neighbours, that care was not taken for the timely
preventing the farther diffusion of it, by pulling down houses, as
ought to have been ; so that this lamentable fire, in a short time, be-
came too big to be mastered by any engines, or working near it. It
fell out most unhappily too, that a violent easterly wind fomented it,
and kept it burning all that day, and the night following, spreading
itself up to Gracechurch-street, and downwards from Cannon-street
to the water-side, as far as the Three Cranes in the Vintry.
" The people, in all parts about it, were distracted by the vastness
of it, and their particular care to carry away their goods. Many at-
tempts were made to prevent the spreading of it, by pulling down
houses, and making great intervals, but all in vain, the fire seizing
BURNING OF LONDON. 533
upon the timber and rubbish, and so continuing itself, even tlirough
those spaces, and raging in a bright flame all Monday and Tuesday,
notwithstanding his majesty's own, and his royal highness's indefati-
gable and personal pains to apply all possible remedies to prevent it,
calling upon, and helping the people with their guards, and a great
number of nobility and gentry unweariedly assisting therein, for which
they were requited with a thousand blessings from the poor distressed
people.
"By the favour of God, the wind slackened a little on Tuesday
night, and the flames meeting with brick buildings at the Temple, by
little and little it was observed to lose its force on that side, so that on
Wednesday morning we began to hope well, and his royal highness
never despairing, or slackening his personal care, wrought so well
that day, assisted in some parts by the lords of the council before and
behind it, that a stop was put to it at the Temple church ; near Hol-
born-bridge ; Pie-corner; Aldersgate; Cripplegate ; near the lower
end of Coleman-street ; at the end of Bassinghall-street, by the Pos-
tern ; at the upper end of Bishopsgate-street, and Leadenhall-street ;
at the standard in Cornhill ; at the church in Fenchurch-street ;
near Clothworkers'-hall in Mincing-lane ; at the middle of Market-
lane, and at the Tower-dock.
" On Thursday, by the blessing of God, it was wholly beat down
and extinguished ; but so as that evening it unhappily burst out again
afresh at the Temple, by the falling of some sparks (as is supposed)
upon a pile of wooden buildings ; but his royal highness, who watched
there that whole night in person, by the great labours and diligence
used, and especially by applying powder to blow up the houses about
it, before day most happily mastered it.
*' His majesty then sat liourly in council, and ever since hath con-
tinued making rounds about the city, in all parts of it where the dan-
ger and mischief was the greatest, till this morning that he hath sent
his grace the duke of Albemarle, whom he hath called for to assist
him OH this great occasion, to put his happy and successful hand to
ihe finishing this memorable deliverance."
During the progres of this dreadful conflagration, orders were given
for pulling down various houses in the Tower of London, in order to
preserve the grand magazine of gunpowder in that fortress ; to the
preservation of which, however, the violent easterly wind contributed
more than the precaution.
Many thousands of citizens, who by this calamity were deprived
of their habitations, retired to the fields, destitute of all necessaries,
and exposed to the inclemency of the weather, till a suflicient number
of tents or huts could be erected for their reception. In order to miti-
gate the distresses of the people, his majesty ordered a great quantity
of naval biead to be distributed among them ; and issued a proclama-
tion, commanding the magistrates of the city to encourage the bring-
ing of all kinds of provisions.
By the certificate of Jonas Moore and Ralph Gatrix, the surveyors
appointed to examine the ruins, it appeared, that this dreadful fire
overran 436 acres of ground within the walls, and burnt 13,200
houses, 89 parish churches, besides chapels; and that only 11 parish
churches within the walls were left standing.
To this account of its devastation may also be added the dcstruc-
534 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
tion of St. Paul's cathedral, Guildhall, the Royal Exchange, Custom-
house, and Blackwell-hall ; many hospitals and libraries, 52 halls of
the city companies, and a great number of other stately edifices ; to-
gether with three of the city gates, and the prisons Newgate and
Fleet, the Poultry and Wood-street Compters ; the loss of wliich, by
the best calculation, amounted to upwards of ten million sterling.
Yet notwithstanding all this destruction, only six persons lost their
lives.
Various were the conjectures of the people on the cause of this
singular calamity ; at first some imagined it to be casual, but, from
a train of circumstances, it afterwards appeared to have been done
from the malice and horrid contrivances of the papists. Several sus-
pected persons were taken into custody ; but although there were
very strong presumptions^ no positive proof being produced against
them, they were discharged.
Thus did this diabolical scheme take place, in a great measure, to
the wishes of the infamous contrivers; yet, instead of being prejudi-
cial, it was, in the end, productive of the most happy consequences to
the metropolis. It certainly, for a time, occasioned the most poignant
distress to the inhabitants, but it afforded an opportunity that never
happened before, and in all human probability, never may again, ol
restoring the city with more attention to uniformity, conveuiency, and
wholesomeness, than could be expected in a town of progressive
growth. The streets were before narrow, crooked, and incommo-
dious; the houses chiefly of wood, dark, close, and ill-contrived;
with their several stories projecting beyond earli other as they rose,
over the narrow streets. The free circulation of the air was, by these
means, obstructed ; and the people breathed a stagnant, unwholesome
element, replete with foul effluvia, sufficient to generate putrid disor-
ders, and disposed to harbour any pestilential taint it might receive.
All these inconveniencies were removed, by the streets being made
wider, and the buildings principally formed of brick : so that if,
either by accident or otherwise, a fire should happen in future, its
progress might be soon stopped, and the direful consequences which
generally arise from such circumstances rendered trifling.
Besides those already mentioned, the fire of London was certainly
jjroductive of one advantage of the most valuable nature, namely, the
extirpation of that contagious and destructive distemper, the plague,
which, but the year before, had brought thousands to their graves.
This horrible flisease had made great devastation among the inhabi-
tants, not only of the metropolis, but of different parts of the king-
dom, at various periods ; but its baneful influence has never been
exerted in London, since the great conflagration, and there is there-
fore reason to conclude that tliis temporary calamity Avas employed
by Providence as the means of conferring a permanent benefit on the
inhabitants of this city, and of defeating the machinations of those
miscreants who contrived so diabolical a method of revenge.
To perpetuate the remembrance of this occurrence, a monument
Avas erected in that part of the city in the neighbourhood of which the
fire began ; and as it still remains in its original state, it may not be
improper here to describe it.
The Monument, which is a noble fluted column, is situated in a
small square, open to the street, on the east side of Fish-street hilL
BURNING OF LONDON. 535
It was designed by Sir Christopher Wren, by whom it wag begun to
be erected in the year 1671, and tlioroughly completed by that great
architect in 1677. It is esteemed the noblest modern column in the
world ; and may, in some respects, vie with the most celebrated of
antiquity, which are consecrated to the names of Trajan and Antoninus.
This stately column, which is twenty-four feet higher than Tra-
jan's pillar at Rome, is built of Portfand stone, of the Doric order, and
fluted. Its altitude from the ground is 202 feet, and the diameter of
the shaft, or body of the column, is fifteen feet. It stands on a pe-
destal forty feet high, the ground, plinth, or bottom of which, is twen-
ty eight feet square. Within is a stair case of black marble, contain-
ing 345 steps, each six inches thick, and ten inches and a half broad.
Over the capital is an iron balcony, which encompasses a cone thirty-
two feet high, supporting a blazing urn of brass, gilt.* On the cap
of the pedestal, at the angles, are four dragons (the supporters of the
city arms,) and between them trophies, with symbols of regality, arts,
sciences, comme^|fce, &c.
The west side of the pedestal is adorned with curious emblems, by
the masterly hand of Mr. Gibber, father to the poet laureate ; in
which the eleven principal figures are done in alto, and the rest in
basso relievo. The principal figure to Avhich the eye is particularly
directed, is a female, representing the city of London, sitting in a
languishing posture on a heap of ruins : her head appears reclining,
her hair is dishevelled, and her hand lies carelessly on her sword.
Behind is Time gradually raising her up ; and at her side a woman,
representing Providence, gently touching her with one hand, whilst,
with a winged sceptre in the other, she directs her to regard two
goddesses in the clouds ; one with a cornucopia, signifying Plenty,
and the other with a palm branch, denoting Peace. At her feet is a
bee-hive, showing, that by industry and application the greatest diffi-
culties are to be surmounted. Behind Time are various citizens ex-
ulting at his endeavours to restore her ; and beneath in the midst of
the ruins, is a dragon, who, as supporter of* the city arms, endeavours
to preserve them with his paw. Opposite the city, on an elevated
pavement, stands King Charles II., in a Roman habit, with a wreath
of laurel on his head, and a truncheon in his hand ; who approach-
ing the city, commands three of his attendants to descend to her re-
lief; the first represents the Sciences with wings on her head, and a
circle of naked boys dancing upon it, holding nature in her hand, with
her numerous breasts ready to give assistance to all. The second is
Architecture, with a plan in one hand, and a square and pair of com-
passes in the other. The third is Liberty, waving a hat in the air,
and showing her joy at the pleasing prospect of the city's speedy re-
covery. Behind the king stands his brother the duke of York, with a
garland in one hand to crown the rising city, and a sword in the other
for her defence. Behind him are Justice and Fortitude, the former
with a coronet, and the latter with a reined Lion. In the pavement,
♦ In the place of this urn, which wns set up contrary to Sir Christopher's opinion,
It was originally intended to place either a colloeal statue, in hrass, ^ilt, of king
Charles IL, as founder of the new city, after the manner of the Roman pillars, which
were terminated by the statues of their Cffisars ; or a figure erect of a woman crowned
with turrets, holding a sword and cap of maintenance, with ether ensigns of the ciiy'a
grandeur and re-erection.
580 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
under the sovereign's feet, appears Envy peeping from her cell, and
gnawing a heart ; and in the upper part of the back-ground, the re-
construction of the city is represented by scaffolding, erected by the
sides of the unfinished houses, with builders and labourers at work
upon them.
On the east side of the pedestal is the following inscription, signi-
fying the times in which this pillar was begun, continued, and brought
to perfection.
" Incepta
Richardo Ford, Eq. ,
praetore Lond.
A. D. MDCLXXI.
perducta altius
Geo. Waterman, Eq. P. V.
Roberto Hanson, Eq. P. V.
Gulielmo Hooker, Eq. P. V.
Roberto Viner, Eq. P. V.
Josepho Sheldon, Eq. P. V
perfecta
Thoma. Davis, Eq. P. V.
urb.
Anno Dom.
MDCLXXVn.
The north and south sides of the pedestal have each a Latin in-
scription ; one describing the desolation of the city, and the other its
restoration. That on the north side has been translated as follows :
" In the year of Christ, 1666, the 2d day of September, eastward
from hence, at the distance of two hundred feet, (the height of this
column,) a fire broke out about midnight, which, beinof driven on by a
strong wind, not only wasted the adjacent parts, but also very remote
places, with incredible noise and fury. It consumed eighty-nine
churches, the city-gates, Guildhall, many hospitals, schools, and li-
braries ; a vast number of stately edifices, above thirteen thousand
two hundred dwelling houses, and four hundred streets ; of the twen-
ty-six wards it destroyed fifteen, and left eight others shattered, and
half burnt. The ruins of the city were four hundred and thirty-six
acres, from this pillar, by the Thames side, to the Temple-church ;
and, from the north-east side, along the city-wall, to Holborn -bridge.
To the estates and fortunes of the citizens it was merciless, but to
their lives very favourable ; that it might in all things resemble the
last conflagration of the world. The destruction was sudden ; for in
a small space of time the same city was seen most flourishing, and re-
duced to nothing. Three days after, when this fatal fire had baffled
all human counsels and endeavours in the opinion of all, it stopped, as
it were, by the will of Heaven, and was extinguished on every side."
The translation of the inscription on the south side may be given
til us :
" Charles the Second, son of Charles the Martyr, king of Great
Britain, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, a most gracious
prince, commiserating the deplorable state of things, whilst the ruins
POPISH AND MEAL-TUiJ PLOTS. 537
were yet smoking, provided for the comfort of his citizens, and the
ornament of his city ; remitted their taxes, and referred the petitions
of the magistrates and inhabitants to the parliament, wlio immediately
passed an act that public works should be restored to greater beauty
with public money, to be raised by an imposition on coal ; that churches,
and the cathedral of St. Paul, should be rebuilt from their" founda-
tions, with all magnificence ; that bridges, gates, and prisons, should
be new made, the sewers cleansed, the streets made straight and re-
gular, such as were steep levelled, and those too narrow to be made
wider. Markets and shambles to be also enlarged, and situated in dif-
ferent parts of the city. That every house should be built with party
walls, and all in front raised of equal height; that those walls should
be of square stone ©r brick ; and that no man should be longer than
seven years building his house. Anniversary prayers were also en-
joined; and to perpetuate the memory thereof to posterity, they caused
this column to be erected. The work was carried on with diligence,
and London is restored ; but whether with greater speed or beauty,
may be made a question. In three years' time the world saw that
finished, which was supposed to be the business of an age."
Under the before-mentioned inscriptions, in one continued line
round the base of the pedestal, are the following words :
" This pillar was set up in perpetual remembrance of the most
dreadful burning of this proteslant city, begun and carried on by the
treachery and malice of the popish faction, in the beginning of Sep-
tember, in the year of our Lord 1G6G, in order to execute their horrid
plot to extirpate the protestant religion, and the old English liberty,
and to introduce popery and slavery."
This inscription, on the accession of James, duke of York, to the
throne, was immediately erased ; but was restored again soon after
the revolution. And the whole fabric is, at present, in the situation
above de'scribed
SECTION V.
ACCOUNT OF THE POPISH AND MEAL-TUB PLOTS.
This horrid conspiracy was formed by the papists, and is distin-
guished in the annals of England by the name of the Popish Plot.
It was said that the design of the conspiracy was, to kill the king, to
subvert the government, to extirpate the protestant religion, and to
establish popery.
The authors and promoters of this plot were said to be the pope
and cardinals, the Romish, French, Spanish, and English Jesuits, the
seminary priests in England, who at this time came over in great num-
bers, and several popish lords, and others of that party. The duke of
York himself was deeply suspected of being concerned in it, except
that part of killing the king; and that point excepted, the king him»
self was supposed to have favoured the conspiracy. The article of
taking ofl' the king appeared, to be only the project of a part of the
conspirators, to make way for the duke of York to ascend the throne.
538 ^OOK OF MARTYRS.
who was more forward, active, and less fearful than the kintr, and
consequently more likely to bring the grand design of the conspiracy,
the changing of the government and religion, to a speedier con-
clusion.
The chief discoverer of this conspiracy was one Titus Gates, who
had formerly been a clergyman of the church of England, but had
now reconciled himself to the church of Rome, or at least pretended
so to do, and entered into the number of the English seminaries at
St. Om.er's. He also went into Spain, and was admitted to the coun-
sels of the Jesuits. By these means he became acquainted with all
the secret designs that were carrying on, in order to establish popery
in this nation ; and then returning to England, he digested the several
matters he had heard into a narrative, and by the means of Dr. Tonge,
a city divine, got a copy of it delivered to the king, who referred him
to the lord treasurer Danby.
These two informers, finding the king did not take much notice of
their discovery, resolved to communicate it to the parliament ; pre-
vious to which Gates went and made oath of the truth of the narrative
before Sir Edmundbury Godfrey, leaving one copy of it with him, and
reserving another for himself.
The affair having now taken wind, it was resolved to bring it before
the council, who accordingly sat twice a day for a considerable period
to examine into it ; and Tonge and Gates had lodgings assigned them
in Whitehall, with a handsome allowance to each for their maintenance,
and a guard for the security of their persons.
Gn their informations several persons were apprehended, particu-
larly one Wakeman, the queen's physician, and Coleman, the duke of
York's secretary. In the lattcr's house were found several letters which
seemed to concur with Gates's testimony, and gave great weight to
what he advanced. This, with the murder of Sir Edmundbury God-
frey soon after, who had taken Gates's oath to his narrative, (?bnfirmed
the people in their belief of the plot.
Sir Edmundbury Godfrey had been remarkably active in his office
against the papists, to whom his murder was immediately ascribed :
and the truth was confirmed by the evidence of Bedloe and Prance ;
the latter of whom deposed, that, " after Sir Edmundbury had several
days been dogged by the papists, they at last accomplished their wicked
design, on Saturday. Gctober 12, 1678, and under pretence of a quarrel,
which they knew his care for the public peace would oblige him to
prevent, aliout nine o'clock at night, as he was going home, got him
into the Water-Gate at Somerset-House. When he was thus tre-
panned in, and got out of hearing from the street, toward the lower
end of the yard, Green, one of the assassins, threw a twisted handker-
chief round his neck, and drew him behind the rails, when three oi
four more of them immediately falling on him, there they throttled
him ; and lest that should not be enough, punched and kicked him on
the breast, as sufficiently a])peared, when his body was found, by the
marks upon it ; and lest he should not be yet dead enough, another
of them. Girald, or Fitzgerald, would have run him through, but was
hindered bv the rest, lest the blood should have discovered them.
Bu*. Green, to make sure work, wrung his neck round, as it was found
afterwards on the inspection of the surgeons.
" For the disposal of the body, they all carried it up into a little
POPISH PLOT. 539
chamber of Hill's, another of the murderers, who had been, or was
Dr. Godwin's man, whsre it lay till Monday night, when they removed
it into another room, and thence back again till Wednesday, when they
carried him out in a sedan about twelve o'clock, and afterwards upon
a horse, with Hill behind him, to support him, till they got to Prim-
rose-Hill, or, as it is called by some, Green-Bury Hill, near a public
house, called the White House, and there threw him into a ditch, with
his gloves and cane on a bank near him, and his own sword run through
him, on purpose to persuade the world he had killed himself. Very
cunningly making choice of a place to lay him where they might both
think he would be some time concealed, and near where he had been
seen walking the same day." The body was accordingly found there
several days afterwards.
Thus died that good man, and wise magistrate. Sir Edmundbury
Godfrey, who fell a martyr to the diabolical machinations of some
wicked and blood-thirsty papists. His body was interred with great
solemnity in the church of St. Martin in the Fields ; and he was at-
tended to the grave by an incredible number of lamenting spec-
tators.
This horrid conspiracy engaged the whole attention of the parliament,
who addressed the king to remove all popish recusants out of the cities
of London and Westminster, and from within ten miles of them: and
in another address, they besought his majesty to take care of his royal
person ; that he would command the lord-mayor, and lieutenancy of
London, to appoint proper guards of the trained bands during the sit-
ting of parliament; and that the lords-lieutenants of the counties of
Middlesex and Surry should appoint sufficient guards in Middlesex,
Westminster, and Southwark.
The houses attended to no other business but this plot; and so warm-
ly did they enter into the matter, that several days they sat from morn-
ing till night examining Gates, and other witnesses. At length, on the
31st of October, 1678, they unanimously resolved, " that the lords and
commons are of opinion, that there hath been, and still is, a damnable
and hellish plot, contrived and carried on by popish recusants, for as-
sassinating and murdering the king, for subverting the government,
and rooting out and destroying the protestant religion."
These opinions were farther confirmed by a circumstance which
happened soon after; for, about the beginning of May, 1679, the citi-
zens discovered a plot, formed by the Jesuits and other papists, for de-
stroying the city of London a second time by fire. One Elizabeth Ox-
ley, a servant in Fetter-lane, having set fire to her master's house, was
apprehertded and committed to prison, when she confessed the fact,
and declared, that she had been hired to do it by one Stubbs, a papist,
who was to give her five pounds as a reward.
Stubbs being immediately secured, confessed that he had persuaded
her to it; but that he himself had been prevailed on by one father
Giflford, his confessor, who, he said, assured him, that instead of its
being a sin, it would be a great service to the " Holy Catholic Church,"
to burn and destroy all the houses of heretics; saying, that he had
conversed many times on that affair with Gifford, and two Irishmen.
And the maid and Stubbs jointly declared, that the papists intended to
rise in London, in expectation of being assisted by a t>owerful army
from France
540 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Soon after this, a prosecution being commenced against several of
the Jesuits who were concerned in the plot, five of them were convict-
ed and executed ; and several lords being also impeached of the same,
were committed prisoners to the tower.
The parliament meeting on the 21st of October, the Lord Stafford,
who was one of those impeached of being concerned in» the popish
plot, was brought to his trial ; and being convicted of high treason,
received sentence to be hanged and quartered. The king, however,
as is usual in such cases, remitted this sentence, and left Stafford to be
beheaded ; but the zeal of the two sheriffs of London started a doubt
as to the king's power of mitigating the sentence in any part. They
proposed queries on this point to both houses ; the peers deemed
them superfluous ; and the commons, apprehensive lest an examina-
tion into these queries might produce the opportunity of Stafford's
escape, expressed themselves satisfied with the manner of execution,
by severing his head from his body.
The Meal-Tub Plot.
In a very short time after the before mentioned conspiracies, a sham
plot was discovered to have been formed by the papists, in order to
throw off the odium they had justly acquired, and to place it on the
presbyterians.
One Dangcrfield, a fellow who had suffered almost every punish-
ment the law could inflict on the most abandoned, was tutored for the
purpose. The Catholic party released him out of Newgate, where
he was imprisoned for debt, and set him to work. He pretended to
have been privy to a design for destroying the king and the royal
family, and converting the government into a commonwealth. The
king, and his brother, countenanced the tale, and rewarded him for
his discovery with a sum of money; but certain papers which he pro-
duced in evidence of his assertions, appearing, upon his examination,
to be forged by himself, he was put under an arrest. All his haunts
were ordered to be searched ; and in the house of one Mrs. Collier, a
midwife, a Roman Catholic, and an intimate acquaintance of his, was
found the model of the pretended plot, written very fair, neatly made
up in a book, tied with a ribband, and concealed in a meal-tub, from
whence it acquired the name of the meal-tub plot.
Dangerfield, finding himself thus detected, applied to the lord
mayor, made an ample confession of the imposition, and discovered
his employers.
The detection of this contrivance so irritated the populace in gene-
ral against the papists, that it added much to the whimsical solemnity
of burning the effigy of the pope ; for, on the 17th of November, the
anniversary of Queen Elizabeth's accession to the throne, the cere-
mony was performed with the most singular pomp and magnificence;
and every mark was shown by the people, that could demonstrate
their abhorrence of popery.
Thus were all these diabolical schemes, projected by the papists to
injure the protestants, happily rendered abortive ; but we must not quit
this section without taking notice, that, on the accession of James IL
to the English throne, the famous Titus Oates, who was so materially
concerned in the discovery of the popish plot, was tried for perjury
on two indictments, and being found guilty, was sentenced to be fined
MURDER OF THE EARL OF ESSEX. 54 1
one thousand marks for each ; to be whipped, on two clifTerent days,
from Aldgate to Newgale, and from Newgate to Tyburn ; to be im-
prisoned during life, and to stand on the pillory five times every year
He made the most solemn appeal to heaven, and the strongest protes-
tations of the veracity of his testimony. The whipping was so severe
that he swooned several times, and it was evidently the design of the
court to have put him to death by that punishment. He was, however,
enabled, by the care of his friends, to recover, and he lived till Wil-
liam HI. came to the throne, when he was released from his confine-
ment, and had a pension allowed him of lOOZ, per annum.
SECTION VI.
PERSECUTIONS OF MANY EMINENT PROTESTANT PATRIOT? IN THE
REIGNS OF CHARLES II. AND JAMES II. ; WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE
BARBARITIES OF JEFFREYS IN THE WEST 0^ ENGLAND.
During the latter years of the reign of Charles the Second, England
was convulsed by the efforts of that monarch (who had been convert-
ed to popery) to attain arbitrary power, and the struggles of a patri-
otic band to defeat his nefarious designs, and to retain the constitution
for which their fathers had fought and bled. They succeeded in esta-
blishing several salutary checks on the royal prerogative, and their
praiseworthy exertions became at length so obnoxious to the king, that
he dissolved the parliament in a fit of passion, and determined from
that time to rule by his own sole authority. In this resolution he was
supported by his brother, the duke of York, whose known papistry
had long rendered Hm an object of just suspicion to the nation ; by
Louis XIV. king of France, to whom he had basely betrayed the in-
terests of England for money ; and by a vile and profligate herd of
courtiers, who, slaves alike in mind and body, willingly assisted in the
destruction of that freedom of which they were incapable of appre-
ciating the advantages.
The king and his brother, thus upheld at home and abroad, deter-
mined to take a severe revenge on those persons who had distinguish-
ed themselves by their opposition to popery and tyranny ; but as it
was still necessary to preserve the forms of law and the appearance
of justice, various absurd stories of plols and assassinations were
hatched uj), and sworn to by a gang of wretches destitute of every
feeling of morality, and dead to every obligation of justice. "We
shall give the particulars of a (ew of those trials.
Murdef of Arthur, Earl of Essex.
My lord of Essex had large interest, a plentiful estate, a great deal
of courage, understood the world, and the principles and practices of
thte papists, as well as any man, having been of several secret commit-
tees in the examination of the plot, for which very reason there was
as much necessity for his death as for that of Sir Edmundbury God-
frey. He was, beside all this, of inflexible honesty, and so true a
greatness of mind, that they could no more expect to gain him, than
heaven itself, to be on their side.
542 BOOK OF MARTYRS
Accordingly, his throat was cut in the tower the 13th of July, 1683,
about eight or nine in the morning, and this was reported at Andovei
60 miles from London, on the 11th of July, the first day of his im-
Drisonment, and was told fo a person travelling on the road near the
same place, which was witnessed before even Jeffreys, in a public
court of judicature. The manner in which the murder was hushed
up, must likewise strengthen suspicion : a deputy coroner was present
at the inquest, instead of a legal one ; none of the deceased's rela-
tions attended the inquest ; the body was removed from the place
where it was first laid, stripped, the clothes taken away, the rooms
washed from the blood, and the clothes denied to be shown to the jury.
The ])rincipal witnesses examined were only Bomeny, his man, and
Russel, his warder, who might be justly suspected of being privy to, if
not actors in the murder. The jury hastened and hurried the verdict,
when so great a man, a peer of the realm, and the king's prisoner,
was concerned. And all this at a time when the Lord Russel was to
be tried for a share in the plot, in which the earl of Essex was also
accused of being concerned; and when the news of his suicide, as
pretended, was instantly, with so much diligence, conveyed from the
Tower to the Session-House, bench, bar, and jury, and harped upon
by the Lord Howard just then, and by others in after-trials, as more
than a thousand witnesses, and the very finger of God. After this,
the very sentinel, who that day stood near the place, was found dead
in the tower-ditch, and Captain Hawley barbarously murdered down
at Rochester; and all methods used to prevent the truth from coming
to light. Mr. Braddon was harassed, prosecuted, imprisoned, and
fined for stirring in it. On the fair and impartial consideration of
these things, which are all notorious facts, granted by all sides, what
can a man conclude from the whole, but — That this noble lord was
certainly murdered by the popish party?
But there is yet more evidence : If he could not murder himself in
that manner, who then should do it but those on whom the guilt of it
has been just charged ? His throat was cut from one jugular to the
other, both the jugulars being thoroughly divided. How could any
man after the prodigious flow of blood which must necessarily follow
on the dividing one jugular, as well as all those strong muscles which
lie in the way, how could he ever have strength to go through, all
round, and come to the other, without fainting ?
Lastly, His character makes it morally impossible that he should
be guilty of such an action.
Trial and Execution of William Lord Russel.
The next who fell under their cruelty, and to whose death that of
Essex was but a prologue, was Lord Russel; without all dispute one of
the finest gentlemen that ever England bred ; and whose pious life
and virtue was as much treason against the court, by affronting them
with what was so much hated there, as any thing else that M'as sworn
against him. His family M'as ancient, and early enemies to the Rb-
mish superstition, though this brave nobleman only suffered for offen-
ces of his ancestors. His first offence, as he himself says, in his last
speech, was his earnestness in the matter of the exclusion of the duke.
He began sooner than most others to see into the danger we were in
from popery, and all those fatal consequences which have since hap-
pened ; and described them plainly, and almost prophetically.
LORD WILLIAM RUSSEL. - 543
He was arrested, imprisoned in tlie tower, and brought to hin trial
on the 13th of July, 16S3, at the Old Bailey, for high treason. He
earnestly desired that he might have respite, and not be tried that day,
since he had some witnesses that could not be in town till the night,
but his enemies were in such post haste, and so eager for his blood,
that they would not stay so much as till the afternoon, pretending it
was against precedent, and they could not do it v/ilhout the attorney
general's consent; though it is notorious, that on several occasions it
Jiad been done, and the trial been postponed, even till the following
sessions.
When he found he must expect neither favour nor justice, as to the
delaying of his trial, he excepted against the foreman of the jury, be-
cause not a freeholder ; Avhich was also over-ruled and given against
liim ; though that practice has been since declared and acknowledged
one of the great grievances of the nation.
On the king's counsel opening the evidence, he first says, " He
was indicted for no less than conspiring the death of the king's majes-
ty ; and that in order to the same, he and others did meet and con-
spire together, to bring our sovereign lord the king to death, to raise
war and rebellion against him, and to massacre his subjects ; and in
order to compass these wicked designs, being assembled, did conspire
to seize the king's guards, and his majesty's person ; and this (he tells
the jury) is the charge against him."
The attorney general melts it a little lower, and tells them, the
meaning of all these tragical words " was, a consult about a rising,
about seizing the guards, and receiving messages from the earl of
Shaftesbury concerning an insurrection."
Nor yet does the proof against him come up so high even as this,
though all care was used for that purpose, and questions put very
frequently to lead and drive the evidence ; only one of them witness-
ing to any one point.
The first of the witnesses was Colonel Rumsey, who swore, Tha*
he was sent with a letter from Lord Shaftesbury, who lay concealei
at Wapping, to meet Lord Russel, Ferguson, &c. at Shepherd's, to
know of them what resolution they were come to concerning the
rising designed at Taunton. That when he came thither, the answer
made Avas, Mr. Trenchard had failed them, and no more would be
done in that business at that time. That Mr. Ferguson spoke the
most part of that answer ; but my Lord Russel was present, and that
he did speak about the rising of Taunton, and consented to it. That
the company was discoursing also of viewing the guards, in order to
surprise them, if the rising had gone on ; and that some undertook to
view them. ; and that the Lord Russel was by, when this was under-
taken. But this being the main hinge of the bu&incss, and this witness
not yet coming up to the purpose, they thought it convenient to give
him a jog, to refresh his memory, by asking him. Whether he found
Lord Russel averse, or agreeing to it? To which he answered. Agree-
ing. But being afterwards asked. Whether he could swear positively,
that my Lord Russel heard the message, and gave any answer to it?
All that he says is this. That when he came in, they were at the fire-
side, but they all came from (he fireside to hear what he said.
All that Shepherd witnessed, was, that my Lord Russel, &c. being
at his house, there was a discourse of surprising the king's guards
544 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
and Sir Thomas Armstrong having viewed them when he came thither
another time, said, tliey were remiss, and the thing was seizable, ii
there were strength to do it ; and that upon being questioned too, as
Rumsey before him,, whether my Lord Russel was there ? He says,
he was, at the time they discoursed of seizing the guards.
The next witness was Lord Howard, who very artificially began in
a low voice, pretending to be so terribly surprised with my lord of
Essex's death, that his voice failed him, till the lord chief justice told
him the jury could not hear him ; in which very moment his voice
returned again, and he told the reason why he spoke no louder. After
a long harangue of tropes, and fine words, and dismal general stories,
by which, as Lord Russel complained, the jury were prepossessed
against him ; he at last made his evidence bear directly upon the
point for which he came thither, and swore, that after my Lord
Shaftesbury went away, their party resolved still to carry on the de-
sign of the insurrection without him; for the better management
whereof they erected a little cabal among themselves, which did con-
sist of six pers )ns, whereof my Lord Russel and himself were two ;
that they met for that purpose at Mr. Hampden's house, and there
adjusted the place and manner of the intended insurrection; that
about ten days after they had another meeting on the same business
at my Lord Russel's, where they resolved to send some persons to
engage Argyle, and the Scots, in the design, and being asked Avhether
Lord Russel said any thing, he answered, that evexy one knew him
to be a person of great judgment, and not very lavish of discourse.
But being again goaded on by Jeffreys, with — but did he consent ?
" We did," says he, " put it to the vote ; it went without contradic-
tion ; and I took it that all there gave their consent."
West swore, that Ferguson and Colonel Rumsey told him, that
my Lord Russel intended to go down and take his post in the Avest,
when Mr. Trenchard had failed them. But this hearsay evidence
being not encouraged, Jeffreys told the jury, " they would not use
any thing of garniture, but leave it as it was."
It may here be remarked, with respect to Colonel Rumsey, that
Lord Cavendish proved on the trial, that Lord Russel had a very ill
opinion of him, and therefore it was not likely he would entrust him
with so important and dangerous a secret. As to his evidence re-
specting both branches of the design, seizing the guards, and the
rising at Taunton, he says in general, that he was agreeing to one,
and spoke about, and consented to the other. For his agreeing to the
seizing the guards, he might think, as Lord Howard did, that silence
?^'ves consent ; for it appears not, nor does he swear, that my lord
spoke one word about it. But Lord Russel himself, in his last speech,
which we have all the reason in the world to believe exactly true,
protests, that at this time of which Rumsey swears, there was no un-
dertaking of securing and seizing the guards, nor none appointed to
view or examine them, only some discourse there was of the practi-
cability of it ; he heard it mentioned as a thing which might easily be
done, but never consented to it as a thing fit to be done.
Now, we may ask, which of these two was most worthy to be be-
lieved ? Rumsey, who either swore for the saving his own life, or was
a trepan, that he was consenting to the seizing the guards, or my Lord
Russel, on his death and salvation solemnly affirming, that he was
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LORD WILLIAM RUSSEL. 545
so far from consenting to any such tiling, that there was not so mucli
as any such undertaking mentioned in the company uhilelie Avas willi
them; especially when it is observable, that Rumscy never instances
the terms in which he gave his consent. The same is to be said of
the other branch of his evidence, as to the message of the insurrec-
tion, Avhich, he says, he brought into the room, and found my Lord
Russel and the rest by the lire ; whence they all came to him, and
heard his message, and the Lord Russel discoursed on the subject of
it, and consented to it. To all which let us again oppose not only
what he answered on his trial, wherein he says, that ho would swea'r
he never heard or knew of that message, which Ruinscy says he
brought to them; but also what he says in confirmation thereof in
his speech, " I solemnly aver, that what I said of mv not hearing
Colonel Rumsey deliver any message from my Lord ShaYtesbury, was
true." And a little before he says, "When I came into the room 1
saw Mr. Rumsey by the chimney, though he swears he came in after."
One thing more may be observed, that when West came to give in
his evidence, he runs farther than Rumsey, and remembers Rumsey
had told him, what it seems he himself had forgot, viz. that on Mr.
Trenchard's failing them, my Lord Russel was to go in his place, and
take up his post alone in the west. And, indeed, had not West miss-
ed his cue, and, by imitating Lord Howard's example, began first with
hearsay, he had made as formidable an evidence as every one of the
others.
For Shepherd, all must grant he said not a syllable to the purpose,
or any thing afllecting Lord Russel. He can hardly tell whether he
was even there when there was the discourse of seizing the guards,
but speaks not a word of his hearing, or in the least consenting to the
design.
As for my Lord Howard's evidence, we may, without scandalum
inagnatum, afllrm, that every lord is not fit to be a privy counsellor;
and that he does very well to say, " the council of six all chose them-
selves ;" for had not he given his own vote for himself, hardly any
body else would have done it, since his character is so notoriously
different from that which he himself gives of Lord Russel, whom, he
says, " every one knew to be a person of great judgment, and not
very lavish of discourse." For his evidence, he, like West, is so happy
as to have a better memory than Rumsey ; and says, that the duke of
Monmouth told him, Rumsey had conveyed my Lord Russel to Lord
Shaftesbury, on whose persuasion the insurrection was put off a fort-
night longer. Of this Rumsey himself says not a syllable.
He says farther, that when they had inquired how matters stood in
the country, and the duke of Monmouth had found Trencliard and
the west country failed them, on this it was put off again, hnd this
about the 17th and 18th of October. Now this same action Rumsey
speaks of, but takes a large scope as to the time, calling it " the end
of October, or the beginning of November," far enough from the
17th or 18th of the month before. Ruinsey says, " on this disap-
pointment of the Taunton men and Trenchard, Shaftesbury resolved
to begone:" Lord Howard, that " he was so far from it, that he and
his party resolved to do it without the lords, and had set one time and
the other, and at last the 17th of November, which also not taking
elTect, then Shaftesbury v/ent ofl^"
35
546 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
As t{» that part of his evidence which Avas closer; the story of the
council of six, besides the former improbability, that he among all the
men in England should be chosen one of them ; it is remarkable, that
in their former great consultations at Shepherd's, -which he and Kum-
sey mention, the Lord Howard was never present, nor so much as
touches on it in his evidence ; though here, if any where, the grand
affair of seizing the guards, and the answer to Shaftesbury about Taun-
ton, was concerted. All that appears of truth in the matter, seems to
be what my Lord Russel acknowledges, " That those persons named
met very often ; that there was no formed design, but only loose talk
about those concerns; that there was no debate of any such thing as
was sworn, nor putting any thing in a method ; but my Lord Howard
being a man of a voluble tongue, and one who talks very well, they
were all delighted to hear him."
Nor indeed does my Lord Howard positively swear, even supposing
this story of the consultation to be true, that my Lord Russel actually
consented to it ; only that he was there, and that " he understood that
he did give his consent."
It is a very ill cause that needs either a lie or a cheat to defend it.
My Lord Russel being so ingenuous as to acknowledge whatever of
truth any one that knew him will believe to be in his part of the design,
it would be an injury to his memory to believe more. It appears,
then, from his own acknowledgment, that Howard, Armstrong, and
such others, had sometimes discoursed of ill designs and matters in
his company ; and, as he says, " What the heats, wickedness, passions,
and vanities of other men had occasioned, he ought not be answera-
ble for, nor could he repiess them. Nay more, he did sufficiently
disapprove those things which he heard discoursed of with more heat
than judgment." But for himself, he declares solemnly again and
again, " That he was never in any design against the king's life, or
any man's whatsoever; nor ever in any contrivance of altering the
government." If this be true, what then becomes of the story of the
council of six ? It will be still said he was an ill man, being guilty by
this very confession of misprision of treason. Supposing this true,
that was not punishable with death, and he died, as he says, innocent
of the crime he stood condemned for. And besides, " I hope," says
he, " nobody will imagine that so m.ean a thought could enter into me,
as to go about to save my life by accusing others. The part that
some have acted lately of that kind has not been such as to invite me
to love life at such a rate."
But all this does not depend on his mere assertion, since the evi-
dence who swore against him being such as were neither creditable,
nor indeed so much as legal witnesses, the accusation of itself must
fall to the ground. If legal, they were not credible, because they
had no pardons, but hunted, as the cormorant does, with strings about
their necks, Avhich West, in his answer to Walcock's letter, ingen-
uously acknowledges, and says, " It is through God and the king's
mercy he was not at the apparent point of death." That is, he was
upon trial, to see whether he would do business, and deserve to es-
cape hanging.
Nor indeed was the great witness. Lord Howard, so much as a
leg^l, any more than a credible witness. No man alive lias any way
♦o clear himself from the most perjured villain's malice, if he swears
LORD WILLIAM UUSSEL. §47
against him point blank, but cither by circumstance of time, or invali-
dating his very evidence. The first of these was precluded ; as
Rumscy and the rest came to no determinate time, but only abov'
such a time ; about the end of October, or beginning of November .
and otlicrs cloud the precise time in so many words, that it is impos-
sible to find it. All then that could be done, was as to the person.
Now what thing can be invented, which can more invalidate the evi-
dence any person gives, than his solemn, repeated, voluntary oath,
indubitably proved against him, that such a person is innocent of that
very crime of which he afterwards accuses him ? And let any one
judge, on reading the following deposition, whether or no this was
the case in the present instance : my Lord Anglesey witnesses, that
he was at the earl of Bedford's after his son was imprisoned, where
came in my Lord Howard, and began to comfort him, saying, " He
was happy in so wise a son, and worthy a person ; and who could
never be in such a plot as that. That he knew nothing against him,
or any body else, of such a barbarous design." But this was not upon
oath, but only related to the assassination, as he says for himself in
drawing this fine distinction.
Let us see then what is testified by Dr. Burnet, whom Lord How
ard was with the night after the plot broke out, " and then, as well as
once before, with hands and eyes lifted up to heaven, did say, He knew
nothing of any plot, nor believed any." Here is the most solemn
oath, as he himself confesses, made voluntarily, nay, unnecessarily ;
though perhaps, in my Lord Bedford's case, good nature might work
upon him. Here is no shadow, no room left for his distinction be-
tween the insurrection and assassination ; but Avithout any guard or
mitigation at all, he solemnly swears he knew not of any plot, or be-
lieved any !
There is but little subterfuge more, and the case is clear. All this
perjury, all these solemn asseverations, he tells us, were only to bra-
zen out the plot, and to outface the thing for himself and party. This
he fairly acknowledges ; and let all the world judge, whether they
would destroy one of the best and bravest men in it, on the evidence
of such a person ? But there is yet a farther answer. His cousin,
Mr. Howard, who was my lord's intimate friend, who secured him in
his house, to whom he might open his soul, and to whom it seems he
did, he having made apjdication to the ministers of state in his name,
that he was willing to serve the king, and give him satisfaction ; to
him, I say, with whom he had secret negotiations, and that of such a
nature ; will any one believe that he would outface the thing here
too? That he would perjure himself for nothing, where neither dan-
ger or good could arise from it? No, certainly, his lordship had more
wit, and conscience, and honour ; he ought to be vindicated from
such an imputation. And yet here he denied it ; and Mr. Howard
tells it as generously, and with as much honest indignation as possi-
ble, in spite of the checks the court gave him. " He took it," says
he, " upon his honour, his faith, and as much as if he had taken an
oath before a magistrate, that he knew nothing of any man concerned
in this business, and particularly of the Lord Russel ; of whom he
added, that he thought he did unjustly suffer." So that if he had the
same soul on Monday, that he had on Sunday, (the very day before,)
ihii! could not be true that he swore against the Lord Russel. My lord
548 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Russel's suffering was imprisonment, and that for the same matter on
which he was tried, the insurrection, not the assassination. If iny
Lord Howard knew him guilty of that for which he was committed,
though not the other, how could he then say it was unjustly done?
After all this, it would be almost superfluous to go any farther, or
insert the evidence given by Drs. Tillotson, Burnet, Coxj and others,
not only of his virtues and honourable behaviour, but more especially
of his judgment about any popular insurrections, that he was abso-
lutely against them, that it was folly and madness until things came to
be properly regulated in a parliamentary way ; and he thought it would
ruin the best cause in the world, to take any such ways to preserve it.
All this, and more, would not do ; die he must, the duke ordered it,
the witnesses swore it, the judges directed it, the jury found it; and
when the sentence came to be passed, the judge asked, as is usual,
what he had to say why it should not be pronounced 1 To which he
answered :
" That whereas he had been charged in the indictment which was
then read to him, with conspiring the death of the king, which he had
not taken notice of before ; he appealed to the judge and the court,
whether he were guilty within the statute on which he was tried, the
witnesses having sworn an intention of levying war, but not of killing
the king, of which there was no proof in any one witness."
The recorder told him, " That was an exception proper, and as he
thought his lordship did make it before the verdict. Whether the evi-
dence did amount to prove the charge, was to be observed by the jury ;
for if the evidence came short of the indictment, they could not find
it to be a true charge ; but when once they had found it, their verdict
did pass for truth, and the court was bound by it, as well as his lord-
ship, and they were to go according to what the jury had found, not
their evidence."
Now, we may ask, what is the reason of the prisoner's being asked
that question, what he has to say for himself? Is it a mere formality?
He makes an exception, which the judge confesses to be proper. But
who was counsel for the prisoner? Is not the bench ? Or, does it not
pretend to be so ? And why is not this observed by them in their
direction to the jury ? The recorder seems to grant it fairly, that the
evidence did not prove the charge, and says, the court was to go, not
according to the evidence, but according to the verdict pronounced ;
sentence was accordingly passed upon him, and he was removed to
Newgate.
While he was there, the importunity of his friends, as he says in his
speech, lest they should think him sullen or stubborn, prevailed with
him to sign petitions, and make an address for his life, though it was
not without difficulty that he did any thing with the view of avoiding
death. And all his petitions were rendered fruitless by the inflexible
malignity of the duke of York, who prevented the king (whose good
nature might probably have been prevailed on) from saving one ol
the best men in his kingdom.
Dr. Burnet, and Dr. Tillotson, attended him in Newgate the greater
part of the time between his sentence and death ; where, to the last, he
owned that doctrine, which other good men, who were then of another
judgment, have since been forced into, namely, the lawfulness of re
sistance against unlawful violence, from whomsoever it come.
WALCOT, HONE, AND ROUSE. 549
After the fruitless application for his pardon ; after a farewell ami
adieu in this world to one of the best of women, who stood by him,
and assisted him in his trial, and left him not till now, he, at last, on
Saturday, the 21st of July, 1683, went into his own coach about nine
o'clock in the morning, with Dr. Tillotson and Dr. Burnet ; he was
carried to Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, to the scaflbld prepared for him, where,
among all the numerous spectators, he was one of the most unconcern-
ed persons there, and very few rejoiced at so doleful a spectacle, but
the blood-thirsty papists, who, indeed, had sufficient reason ; and some
of them, to their infinite disgrace, expressed, it is said, a great deal of
pleasure and satisfaction. There, after his lordship had again so-
lemnly protested his innocence, and that he was far from any design
against the king's person or government ; nay, that he did, upon the
words of a dying man, profess, that he knew of no plot against either,
and delivering an excellent speech to the sheriiT, he prayed by him-
self, and with Dr. Tillotson's assistance ; and embracing him and Dr.
Burnet, he submitted to the fatal strokes, for the executioner took no
less than three before he could sever his head, which when it was
held up, as usual, there w as so far from being any shout, that a heavy
groan was heard round the scaflbld. His body was given to his
friends, and conveyed to Cheney's, in Buckinghamshire, where it was
buried among his ancestors.
Trial and Execution of Walcot, Hone, and Rouse.
Captain Walcot, and his fellow suflerers, in order of time, should
have been placed first, they being convicted before my Lord Russcl,
and executed on the preceding day. But my Lord Russel's fate having
so immediate a dependence on that of the earl of Essex, it seemed
more proper to begin with him. Captain Walcot was a gentleman
of a considerable estate in Ireland, remarkable for the rare happiness
of having eight children all at once living, but more so for his love to
his country, which cost him his life.
The pretended crime for wliich Walcot suffered, and which West
and others witnessed against him, was conspiring the death of the
king, and to charge the guards, at his return from New^market, while
a blunderbuss was to be fired into the coach by Rumbald, or some
other. His privacy to discourses about the king's deatli was but mis-
prision. For his acting in it, they could not have fixed on a more un-
likely man to command a party in so desperate an attempt as charging
the guards, than one who was sick, and bed-ridden of the gout, as the
captain frequently was. Nor does West's pretence, that he refused
to be engaged in the actual assassination, because of the baseness ot
it, but offered to charge the guards, while others did it, seem more
probable. This he denies with indignation in his speech, and appeals
to all that knew him whether they thought him such an idiot, that he
should not understand it was the same thing to engage the king'
guards, while others killed him, or to kill him with his own hands ?
West and Rumscy weie the main pillars, and almost the only wit-
^nesses on whom the credit of that action depended, who appear
throughout the great and almost sole managers thereof, and who accuse
others of being concerned in it. What and how much their credit
weighs, we have already hinted, but shall yet confront it with farther
testimonies relating to this matter, and ihose of dying men, who could
expect no pardon in this world, nor in the other, for a falsehood. Be-
550 BOOK Of MARTVRS.
side Rumbald's solemn protestation, Walcot, in liis dying spec :h, as
deeply affirms, as a man can do, that " West bought arms for tfiis vil-
lanous design, without any direction, knowledge, or privity of his,"
West says, in his answer to this, as well as in his evidence, that Wal-
cot joined in the direction about the nature and size of those arms ,
that he was very intimate and familiar with this Rumbald, who Avas to
be the principal actor in the assassination. But Rumbald's death
clears himself and Walcot, and shows what West is.
West, or one of the other witnesses, talks of fifty men being enga-
ged for the assassination. Now it is not easy to believe that there
could be so many Englishmen found, and protestants too, who would
consent to kill the king ; never any one having acknowledged such a
design, except Hone, who was so stupid, that he could not give one
sensible answer to the questions asked him at his death ; so plain a
testimony, and dint of fact and reason, leads to the conclusion that
the persons here charged were not guilty. And Rouse says, " he
was told, they did not intend to spill so much as one drop of bh'od."
In farther confirmation of this. Holloway says, " he could not per-
ceive that Ferguson knew any thing of the Newmarket design, but
Rumsey and West were deep in it." Again, having asked West who
was to act the assassination? "He could give but a slender answer,
and could or would name but two men, Rumbald and his brother; and
they had but few men, if more than two, and no horses, only a parcel
of arms which he showed at a gunsmith's." And at another time,
"West only named Rumsey and Richard Goodenough as concerned
in the assassination, but none seconded him ; Rumsey was for the old
strain of killing the king, to which not one consented ; I could never
find above five concerned in it. I heard Walcot speak against it, and
knew Ferguson to be against any such design."
Upon the whole, we may conclude, that the dying asseverations ol
three men, who had nothing to hope from concealing the truth, are
more worthy of belief than the testimony of those whose sole hope of
life depended on procuring the condemnation of others ; and that this
was the case, is evident from what West says in the paper written by
him. " That he was still in danger of death, though not so imminent as
it had been ; nor at the apparent point of death," And at the close
of the paper, " If it shall please the king to spare my life for my con-
fession, it is a great happiness," &c.
From all which there lies a fair supposition of the innocence of this
captain, and others, of what they were accused, found guilty, senten-
ced, and died for ; it being on West's evidence, and such as his, that
he and others were arraigned and condemned ; the captain's defence
being much the same with what he says in his speech.
Captain Walcot denied any design of killing the king, or of enga-
ging the guards, whilst others killed him ; and said that " the witnesses
invited him to nieetings, Avhere some things were discoursed of, in or-
der to the asserting our liberties and properties, which we looked
upon to be violated and invaded : Tliat they importuned and perpetu-
ally solicited him, and then delivered him up to be hanged : That
they combined together to swear him out of his life, to save their
own ; and that they might do it effectually, they contrived an untruth.
That he forgave them, though guilty of his blood ; but witlial earnestly
begged, that they might be obser"c;l, that remarks might be set u_ on
WALCOT, HONE, AND ROUSE 551
tliem, whether their end be peace ;" and lie concli'ded, " That when
God hath a work to do, he will not want instruments."
With him was tried Rouse, who was charged with such a parcel of
mad romance, as was scarce ever heard of; and one would wonder
how perjury and malice, which used to be sober sins, could ever be
so extravagant as to think of it. lie was to seize the tower, pay the
rabble, head the army, to be pay-master-general, and a great deal
more beside.
In his defence he says not much, but yet what looks a thousand
times more like truth tlian his accusation ; that " the tower business
was only discourse of the possibility of the thing, but without the least
intent of bringing it to action ; that all he was concerned in any real
design, he had from Lee, and was getting more out of him, with an
intention to make a discovery." But it seems Lee was before-hand
with him and saved his own neck.
Hone was accused, and owns himself guilty of a design to kill the
king and duke of York, or one, or neither, for it is impossible to
make any sense of him ; he was, in fact, either an idiot or a madman.
When they came to suffer, Walcot read a paper, in which was a
good rational confession of his faith ; he then comes to the occasion
of his death ; " for which," he says, " he neither blames the judges,
jury, nor council, but only some men, that in reality were deeper con-
cerned then he, who combined together to swear him out of his life,
to save their own ; and that they might do it effectually, contrived an
untruth, &lc. He forgives the world and the witnesses ; gives his
friends advice to be more prudent than he had been ; prays that his
may be the last blood spilled on that account ; wishes the king would
be merciful to others; says he knew nothing of Ireland, and con-
cludes with praying God to have mercy on him."
He had then some discourse with the clergyman, wherein he told
him, that "he was not for contriving the death of the king, nor to
have had a hand in it," and being urged with some matters of contro-
versy, told him, " he did not come thiLher to dispute about religion,
but to die religiously."
Hone's behaviour on the scaffold was as ridiculous as on his trial.
His replies to the clergyman were so incongruous, that scarcely any
thing could be understood from them. But he talked of snares and
circumstances, and nobody knows what, and said, at one time, he was
to meet the king and duke of York, but he did not know when, where,
nor for what. Directly afterwards he says, he was for killing the
king, and saving the duke : and when asked the reason, answered,
" that he knew no reason ; that he did not know what to say to it."
And when the dean charged him with the murderous design, he said,
" that he knew as little of it, as any poor silly man in the world."
Rouse came next; gave an account of his faith, professing to die of
the church of England ; told his former employment and manner of
life; acknowledged he had heard of clubs and designs, but was never
at them, and a perfect stranger to any thing of that nature. He then
gave a relation of what passed between him and his majesty on his
apprehension ; talked somewhat of Sir Thomas Player, the earl of
Shaftesbury, "and accommodating the king's son," as he called it,
though not while the king reigned ; then spoke of Lee, and the dis-
course they had together " who," as he says, " swore against him ou
532 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
the trial those verj' words he himself had used in pressing him to un-
dertake the design ;" and after some discourse with the ordinary,
gave the spectators some good counsel. Then they all three singly
prayed ; and the- sentence of the law was executed upon them.
Execution of Mr. James Holloway.
Mr. Holloway was a merchant; but his greatest dealing lay in
linen manufacture, Avhich, as appears from his papers, he had brought
to such a heighten England, as, had it met Avith suitable encourage-
ment, would have employed 80,000 poor people, and 40,000 acres°of
land, and have produced £200,000 a year to the public revenues ol'
the kingdom. He seems to have been a person of sense, courage,
and vivacity, and a man of business.
He was accused for the plot, as one who was acquainted will*
West, Rumsey, and the rest ; and having been really present at their
meetings and discourses on that subject, al|sconded when the public
news concerning the discovery came into the country ; though this,
as he said in the " Narrative" written by him, " more for fear, that if
he was taken up, his creditors would never let him come out of gaol,
than any thing else."
After some time, he got to sea in a little vessel, went over to France,
and so to the West Indies, among the Caribbee Islands, where much
of his business lay ; but writing to his factor at Nevis, he was by him
treacherously betrayed, seized by the order of Sir William Stapleton,
and thence brought prisoner to England, where, after examination,
and a confession of at least all that he knew, having been outlawed in
his absence on an indictment of treason, he was, on the 21st of April,
1684, brought to the King's Bench, to show cause why execution
should not be awarded against him, as is usual in that case ; he op-
posed nothing against it, only sajdng, " if an ingenuous confession of
truth could merit the king's pardon, he hoped he had done it." The
attorney general being called for, ordered the indictment to be read,
and gave him the offer of a trial, waving the outlawry, which he re-
fused, and threw himself on the king's mercy : on which execution
was awarded : and he was accordingly hanged, drawn, and quartered,
at Tyburn, on the 30th of April.
It seemed strange that a man of so much spirit as Mr. Holloway
appeared to be, should so tamely die without making any defence,
when that liberty was granted him : it seemed as strange, or yet
stranger, that any protestant should have any thing that looked like
mercy or favour from the persons then at the helm ; that they should
be so gracious to him as to admit him to a trial, which looked so ge-
nerously, and was so cried up, the attorney general calling it " A
mercy and a grace," and the lord chief justice saying, " He could
assure him it was a great mercy, and that it v/as exceeding well."
Now all this blind or mystery will be easily unriddled by what
Holloway said just after : " My lord," said he, " I cannot undertake
to defend myself, for I have confessed before his majesty, that I am
guilty of many things in that indictment." Which was immediately
made use of as was designed ; Mr. Justice Withens crying out, " I.
hope every body here will take notice of his open confession, when
Iffi might try it if he would ; surely none but will believe this conspi-
ra,Cj,- now, after Vv^hat this man has owned."
EXLCUTION OF JAMES HOLLO WAY. 553
So there was an end of all the mercy. A man who hail before
confessed in order to be hanged, had gracious liberty given him to
confess it again in public, because his prosecutors knew he had pre-
cluded all manner of defence before, and this public action would
both get them thereputeof clemency, and confirm the belief of the plot.
Now that there had been promises of pardon held out to him, if he
would take this method, and own himself guilty without pleading, is
more than probable, both from other practices of the same nature
used towards greater men, and from some expressions of his which
strongly hint at such promises: Thus, in his paper left behind him,
" I had," says he, " some other reasons why I did not plead, which at
present I conceal, as also why I did not speak what I intended."
Now Avhat should those reasons be but thrcatcnings and promises,
to induce him to silence, and public acknowledgment of all ? "Which
appears yet plainer from another passage : " I am satisfied that all
means which could be thought on, have been used to get as much
out of me as possible." These " means" must evidently signify the
fallacious promises of pardon made to him, on condition of his con-
fession.
But if he made so fair and large an acknowledgment, it Avill be
asked, why was his life not spared ? But this may be easily answer-
ed : He was a little tender-conscienced, and Mould not strain so far
as others in accusing men of those black crimes whereof they were
innocent: nay, on the contrary, he vindicated them from those as-
persions cast upon them, and for which some of them, particularly
my Lord Russel, sufiered death.
For instance, he says. The assassination was carried on but by
three or four, and he could never hear so much as the names of
above five for it ; that he and others had declared their abhorrence
of any such thing ; that Ferguson was not concerned in it. And,
besides, he speaks some things with the liberty of an Englishman ;
shows the very root of all those heats which had been raised ; says,
what was true enough, " That the protestant gentry had a notion of
a horrible design of the papists to cut ofl' the king's friends, and the
active men in both the last parliaments ; that they long had witnesses
to swear tliem out of their lives, but no juries to believe them ; that
now the point about the slierifls was gained, that difticulty was over ;
that the king had persons about him who kept all things from his
knowledge ; that if matters continued thus, the protestant gentry re-
solved to release the king from his evil counsellors, and then he would
immediately be of their side, and suffer all popish oflenders to be
brought to justice."
Hence it was plain, no assassination, no plot against the king and
government was intended ; only treason against the duke of York,
and the papists, who were themselves traitors by law. But Holloway
said one thing yet bolder than all this • he " prays the king's eyes
may be opened, to see liis enemies fr ji i his friends, whom he had
cause to look for nearer home." Was a man to expect pardon after
this? No, certainly, which he sorn gre v sensible of, and prepared
for death : " the council," he sayj, " takiig it very heinously that he
should presume to write such things."
Mr. Holloway farther declared that Mr. West proposed the assas-
sination, but none seconded him ; that he could not perceive that Mr.
554 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Frryuson knew any thing of it; and he said, "It was our dcsiga to
shed no blood ;" then being interrogated by Mr. Ferguson's friend,
Mr. Sheriff Daniel, Whether he knew Ferguson? he answered, "That
he did know him, but knew him to be against any design of killing
the king."
Execution of Sir Thomas Armstrong.
The next sufferer had not so fair play, because his enemies knew
he would make better use of it. They had this lion in the toils, and
did not intend to let him loose again to make sport, lest the hunters
themselves should come off ill by it. He had been all his life a firm
servant and friend to the royal family, in their exile and afterwards :
he had been in prison for them under Cromwell, and in danger both
of execution and starving; for all which they now rewarded him by
an ignominious death.
He had a particular honour and devotion for the duke of Monmouth,
and forwarded his interest on all occasions, being a man of as un-
daunted courage as ever England produced. He was with the duke
formerly in his actions in Flanders, and shared there his dangers and
honours. The accusation against him was, his being concerned in
the general plot, and in that for killing the king.
The particulars pretended against him, were that Lord Howard wit-
nessed in Lord Russel's trial, of his going to kill the king when their
first design failed. But of this there was only a supposition, though
advanced into a formal accusation, and aggravated by the attorney-ge-
neral, as the reason why he had a trial denied him, when Holloway
had one offered, both of them being alike outlawed. On which out-
lawry Sir Thomas was kidnapped in Holland, brought over hither in
chains, and robbed by the way into the bargain. Being brought up,
and asked what he had to say, why sentence should not pass upon
him, he pleaded the 6th of Ed. VL wherein it is provided, That if a
person outlawed render himself within a )-ear after the outlawry pro-
nounced, and traverse his indictment, and shall be acquitted on his
trial, he shall be discharged of the outlawry. On which he accordingly
then and there made a formal surrender of himself to the lord chief
justice, and asked the benefit of the statute, and a fair trial for his life,
the year not being yet expired. If ever any thing could appear plain
to common sense, it was his case ; but all the answer he could get
was this, from the lord chief justice, "We don't think so; we are of
another opinion." He could not obtain so much justice as to have
counsel allowed to plead, though the point sufficiently deserved it, and
the life of an old servant of the king's was concerned in it. When he
still pleaded, That a little while before, one (meaning HolloAvay) had
the benefit of a trial offered him, if he would accept it, and that was
all he now desired; the lord chief justice answers, "That was only
the grace and mercy of the king." The attorney-general adds,
" The king did indulge Holloway so far as to offer him a trial, and his
majesty perhaps might have some reason for it :" the very reason,
no doubt, which we have already assigned for it. " But Sir Thomas,"
the attorney goes on, " deserves no fixvour, because he was one of the
persons that actually engaged to go, on the king's hasty coming from
Newmarket, and destroy l:im by the way as he came to town ; which
appears upon as full and clear an evidence, and as positively testified
EXECUTION OF SIR T. ARMSTRONG. 555
as any thing could be, in the evidence given in .of the late horrid
conspiracy." Now we may ask, who gives this clear and full evi-
dence in the discovery of the conspiracy? Howard's is mere suppo-
sition, and he is the only person who so much as mentions a syllable
of it. To this Sir Thomas answers in his speech, " That had he come
to his trial, he could have proved my Lord Howard's base reflections
on him to be notoriously false, there being at least ten gentlemen,
besides all the servants in the house, who could testify where he dined
that very day."
Still Sir Thomas demanded the benefit of the law, and no more : to
which Jeflreys answered, with one of his usual barbarous insults over
the miserable, "That he should have it, by the grace of God ;" order-
ing, That execution be done on Friday next according to law. And
added, " That he should have the full benefit of the law ;" repeating
the jest, lest it should be lost, three times in one sentence!
He then proceeded to tell him, " We are satisfied that according to
law we must award execution upon this outlawry:" thereupon Mrs.
Matthews, Sir Thomas's daughter, said, "My lord, 1 hope you will not
murder my father ;" for which, being brow-beaten and checked, she
added, " God Almighty's judgments light upon you '"
On the following Friday he was brought to the place of execution,
Dr. Tennison being with him, and on his desire, aft'^r he had given
what he had to leave, in a paper, to the sheriff, prayed a little while
with him. He then prayed by himself; and after having thanked the
doctor for his great care and pains with him, submitted to the sentence,
and died more composedly, and full as resolutely, as he had lived. It
is observable, that more cruelty was exercised on him than on any who
suffered before him, not only in the manner of his death, but the ex-
posing his limbs and body ; a fair warning what particular gratitude
protestant is to expect for having obliged a true papist.
Another thing worth remembering is, tliat whereas in Holloway
case, Jeffreys observed, " That not one of all concerned in this con
spiracy had dared deny it," absolutely it is so far from being true, tha
every one who suffered did deny it as absolutely as possible. They
were tried or sentenced for conspiring against the king and govern-
ment; that was their plot; but this they all deny, and absolutely too,
and safely might do it ; for they consulted for it, not conspired against
it, resolving not to touch the king's person ; nay, if possible, not to
shed one drop of blood of an}- other, as Holloway and others say. For
the king's life, Sir Thomas says, as well as the Lord Russel, " Never
had any man the impudence to propose so base and barbarous a thing
to n)e." Russel and almost all the others say, " They had never any
design against the government." Sir Thomas says, " As he had never
had any design against the king's life, nor the life of any man, so he
never had any design to alter the monarchy."
As he lived he died, a sincere protestant, and in the communion of
the church of England, though he heartily vvi ,hed lie had more strictly
lived up to the religion he believed. And tJiough he had but a short
time, he found himself prepared for death ; ;md at the place of execu-
tion he conducted himself witJi the courage 1 ecoming a great man, and
with the seriousness and piety suitable lo a good Christian.
Sherifl' Daniel told him, he had leave to say what he pleased, and
should not be interrupted, unless he upbraided the government; Sir
55G BOOK OP MARTYRS.
Thomas thereupon told him that he should not say any thing by way
of speech, but delivered him a paper, which he said contained his
mind, and in which he thus expressed himself, that he thanked Al-
mighty God he found himself prepared for death, his thoughts set
upon another world, and weaned from this ; yet he could not but give
so much of his little time, as to answer some calumnies, and particu
larly what Mr. Attorney accused him of at the bar.
That he prayed to be allowed a trial for his life according to the laws
of the land, and urged the statute of Edward the Sixth, which was
expressly for it ; but it signified nothing, and it was with an extraor-
dinary roughness condemned, and made a precedent ; though Hol-
loway had it '~;7ered him, and he could not but think all the world
would conclude his case very different, or why should the favour
offered to another, be refused to him ?
That Mr. Attorney charged him with being one of those that were
to kill th' king ; whereas he took God to witness, that he never had a
thought < take away the king's life, and that no man ever had the
impudence to propose so base and barbarous a thing to him ; and that
he never was in any design to alter the government.
That if he had been tried, he could have proved the Lord Howard's
base reflections upon him to be notoriously fiilse ; he concluded, that
he had lived, and now died of the reformed religion, a protestant in the
communion of the church of England, and he heartily wished he had
lived more strictly u;< to the religion he believed ; that he had found
the great comfort of the love and mercy of God, in and through his
blessed Redeemer, in whom he only trusted, and verily hoped that
he was going to partake of that fulness of joy which is in his pre-
sence, the hopes whereof infinitely pleased him. He thanked God he
had no repining, but cheerfidly submitted to the punishment of his
sins ; he freely forgave all the world, even those concerned in taking
away his life, though he could not but think his sentence very hard,
he being denied the benefit of the laws of the land.
Trial and Execution of Alderman Cornish.
Although Alderm.an Cornish, and Mr. Bateman, suffered after the
duke of Monmouth, and his adherents, yet, as they Avere sacrificed
under the pretence that they had been concerned in the same plot as
Lord Russel and the others, whose fate we have just narrated, they
are placed here, that the victims of this infamous design may be con-
templated at one view.
Mr. Cornish was seized in October, 1085 ; and the Monday after
his commitment, arraigned for high treason, having no notice given
him till Saturday noon. The charge against him was for conspiring
to kill the king, and promising to assist the duke of Monmouth, &lc.
in their treasonable enterprises.
He desired his trial might be deferred, because of the short time
allowed him for preparation ; and because he had an important witness
a hundred and forty miles off, and that the king ha d left it to the
iudffes whether it should be put off or no. But it ,vas denied him,
the attorney-general telling him. " He had not deserved so well ol
the government as to have his tiial delayed." That was, in plain
English, because he had been a protestant sheriff, he should not have
'usiice.
ALDERMAN CORNISH. 557
The witnesses against him were Rnnisey and Goodenough. Rum-
sey swore, that when he wad at the meeting at Mr. Shepherd's, Mr.
Shepherd being called down, brought up Mr. Cornish ; and when hi-
was come in, Ferguson opened his bosom, and pulled out a paper in
the nature of a declaration of grievances, which Ferguson read, and
Shepherd held the candle while it was being read ; tliat Mr. Cornish
liked it, and said, what interest he had, he would join with it ; and that
it was merely fronr. compassion that he had not accused Mr. Cornish
before.
Goodenough swore, that he talked with Cornish of the design of
seizing the tower. Mr. Cornish said, he would do what good he could,
or to ihat effect.
To Goodenough's evidence was opposed Mr. Gospright's, who tes-
tified that Mr. Cornish opposed Goodenough's being made under she-
riff, saving, that he was an ill man, obnoxious to the government, and
lie would not trust a hair of his head with him. And is it then pro-
bable that he would have such discourses with him as would endanger
head and all ? Mr. Love, Mr. Jekyl, and Sir William Turner, testify
to the same purpose.
As to Rumsey's evidence, the perjury is so evident, that it is im-
possible to look into the trial without meeting it. If we compare what
he says on Russel's trial, and on the present, this will be as visible as
the sun. Being asked before, whether there was any discourse about
a declaration, and how long he staid, he says, " he was there about a
quarter of an hour, and that he was not certain whether he had heard
something about a declaration there, or whether he heard Ferguson
report afterwards, that they had then debated it." But on Cornish's
trial he had strangely recovered his memory, and having had the ad-
vantage, either of recollection, or better instruction, remembers that
distinctly in October, 1685, which he could not in July, 1683, name-
ly, that " he had been there a quarter of an hour ;" the time he states
in the Lord Russel's trial, but lengthens it out, and improves it now
sufficient to allow of Mr. Shepherd's going down, bringing Cornish
up, Ferguson's pulling out the declaration, and reading it, and that, as
Shepherd says on Russel's trial, a long one too, as certainly it must
be, if, as it Avere sworn, " it contained all the grievances of the na-
tion," and yet all this still in a quarter of an hour! thus contradicting
himself both as to time and matter.
But Shepherd is of such bad credit, that his evidence is scarce fit
to be taken against himself. He says, *' At one meeting only Mr.
Cornish was at his house to speak to one of the persons there ; that
then he himself came up stairs, and went out again with Mr. Cornish.
That there was not one word read, nor any paper seen, while Mr.
Cornish was there, and this he was positive of, for Mr. Cornish was
not one of their company."
Now who should know best, Rumsey what Shepherd did, or he what
he did himself? Could a m.an hold the candle while a declaration was
read, as Rumsey swears Shepherd did, and yet know nothing of it,
nay, protest the direct contrary ?
All that is pretended, to support Rumsey's evidence, and liinder
Shepherd's from saving the prisoner, was, that Shepherd strengthened
Rumsey, and proved Cornish guilty of a lie. But if we inquire into
the matter, we shall find one as true as the other.
558 BOOK OF MARTVRS.
C-rrish on his trial is said to have denied his being at the meeting
and d s ;oursing with the duke of Monmouth : which they would have
us be.ieve Shepherd swears he was, though not a syllable of it ap
pears. lie had been there several times, Shepherd says, butAvasnot
of thoir council, knew nothing of their business, nor can he be posi-
tive whether it was the duke of Monmouth he came to speak to that
evening. But supposing in two or three years time, and on so little
recollection, Cornish's memory had failed him in that circumstance,
what is that to Shepherd's evidence against the very root of Rumsey's,
which hanged the prisoner ?
In spite of all he was found guilty, and condemned, and even that
Christian serenity of mind and countenance, wherewith it was visible
he bore his sentence, turned to his reproach by the bench.
He continued in the same excellent temper whilst in Newgate, and
gave the world an admirable instance of the peace Avilh which a
Christian can die, even when his death is what the world considers
igno7ninious. His carriage and behaviour at his leaving Newgate
was as follows :
Coming into the press-yard, and seeing the halter in the officer's
hand, he said, " Is this for me V The officer answered, " Yes." He
replied, " Blessed be God," and kissed it ; and afterwards said, " O
blessed be God for Newgate ! I have enjoyed God ever since I came
within these walls, and blessed be God who liath made me fit to die.
I am now going to that God that will not be mocked, to that God tliat
will not be imposed upon, to that God that knows the innocency of his
poor creature." And a little after he said, " Never did any poor crea-
ture come unto God with greater confidence in his mercy, and assu-
rance of acceptance with him, through Jesus Christ ; for there is no
other way of coming to God but by him, to find acceptance with him ;
there is no other name given under heaven whereby Ave can be saved,
but the name of Jesus." Then speaking to the officers, he said, " La-
bour every one of you to be fit to die : for I tell you, you are not fit to
die ; I was not fit to die myself before I came hither ; but, oh ! blessed
be God ! he hath made me fit to die, and hath made me willing to die !
In a ^e\y moments I shall have the fruition of the blessed Jesus, and
that not for a day, but for ever. I am going to the kingdom of God,
where I shall enjoy the presence of God the Father, and of God the
Son, and of God the Holy Spirit, and of all the holy angels ; I am
going to the general assembly of the first born, and of the spirits of
just men made perfect; O that God should ever do so much for me !
O that God should concern himself so much for poor creatures, for
their salvation, blessed be his name ! for this was the design of God
from all eternity, to give his only Son to die for poor miserable sin-
ners." Then the officers going to tie his hands, he said, " What !
must I be tied then? Well, a brown thread might have served the
turn ; you need not tie me at all ; I shall not stir from you, for I
thank God I am not afraid to die." As he was going out, he said,
" Farewell, Newgate ; farewell, all my fellow prisoners here ; the
Lord comfort you, the Lord be with you all."
Thus much for his behaviour in the way to his martyrdom. The
place of it was most spitefully and barbarously ordered, almost before
his own door, and near Guildhall, to scare any good citizen by iiis ex-
ample from appearing vigorously in the discharge of his duty for his
CHARLES BATEMAN. 559
country's service. If any thing was wanting in his trial, from the
haste of it, for the clearing his innocence, he siifllcirrtly made it up
in solemn asseverations thereof on the scafTokl : " God is my wit-
ness," said he, " the crimes laid to my ch.arge were falsely and mali-
ciously sworn against me by the witnesses ; for 1 never was at any
consultation or meeting where matters against the government were
discoursed of." He added, " I never heard or read any declaration
tending that way. As for the crimes for which I sufler, upon the
words of a dying man, I am altogether innocent. 1 die as I have
lived, in the communion of the church of England, in whose ordinan-
ces I have been often a partaker, and now feel the blessed effects
thereof in these my last agonies."
He was observed by those who stood near the sledge, to have so-
lemnly, and several times, averred his absolute innocence of any de-
sign a/rainst the government, and particularly that for which he died.
His quarters were set up on Guildhall, in tcrrorem, and for the same
reason no doubt, before mentioned for which he was executed so
near it.
Trial and Execution of Mr. Charles Bateman.
The last Avho suffered for this pretended plot was ]\Ir. Bateman, a
surfTcon, a man of good ^nse, courage, and generous temper, of con-
siderable repute and practice in his calling ; a great lover and vindi-
cator of the liberties of his country, and of more interest than most
persons in his station of life. He was sworn against by Rouse, Lee,
and Richard Goodenough, upon the old stories of seizing the tower,
city, and Savoy. Had he been able to defend himself, he would, no
doubt, have covered hip accusers with infamy, and have shown his
own innocence ; but being kept close prisoner in Newgate, in a dark
and loathsome dungeon, Avith little or' no company, he being a free
jolly man, and used formerly to conversation and diversion, soon grew
deeply melancholy ; and when he came on his trial appeared, little
less than perfectly distracted ; on which the court very kindly gave
his son liberty to make his defence, the first instance of that nature ;
and even here their kindness Avas very equivocal, since he himself
might, had he been in his senses, have remembered and pleaded ma-
ny things more, which would have invalidated their evidence against
hirn. But had not the mistaken piety of his ?on undertaken his de-
fence, certainly even they could never have been such monsters as to
have tried one in his condition. Yet had the evidence which his son
brought forward been allowed its due weight, he must certainly have
been acquitted. For as for Lee, one Baker swore, " He had been
practised upon by him in the year 1(383, and Avould have had Iiim in-
sinuate himself into Batem.an's company, and discourse about state
affairs to trej^an him, for wliich service he should be amply rewarded."
It Mas farther urged, that three years had elapsed between the pre-
tended commission of treason and the present prosecution ; and also
that the evidence now produced was insuffi?ient to convict him, even
of misprision, much less of the capital crime. However, he was found
guilty; and just before his execution very much recovered himself,
dying as much like a Christian, and with as great presence of mind,
as any of the former sufferers.
560 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Sufferings of the Rev. Mr. Johnson.
Much about the same tmie, the pious, reverend, and learned Mr
Johnson was severely punished, for the heinous crimes of being mv
Lord Russel's chaplain, writing the famous book called " Julian the
Apostate," and endeavouring to persuade the nation, not to let them-
selves be made slaves and papists, when so many others Avere doing
their part to bring them to it. And it is a question whether any man
in the world, except his friend the Rev. Dr. Burnet, did more ser
vice with his pen, or more conduced to the happy revolution, both
among the army and in other places. For these good services he
was accused, imprisoned, tried, and condemned to be divested of his
canonical habit, and to be whipped from Aid gate to Newgate, and
from Newgate to Tyburn ; which was performed, and which he un-
derwent with courage and constancy above a man, and like a Chris-
tian and a martyr. He was afterwards imprisoned in the King's
Bench, till the coming of the great deliverer of the nation set him
at liberty.
An Account of the Insurrection., Defeat, and Execution of the Duke
of Monmouth, the Earl of Ar gyle, and their followers.
The duke of York having ascended the English throne by the title
of James II. soon began to manifest his tyrannical intentions against
both religion and liberty. He seemed inclined to place himself and
his government entirely in the Hands of the Jesuits ; and such was his
zeal for the Roman Catholic religion, that Pope Innocent XI. to whom
he had sent Lord Castlemaine as ambassador, cautioned him not to be
too hasty. Although, on his accession, he had, in his speech to the
privy council, disclaimed all arbitrary principles, and promised to main-
tain the established government of the nation both in church and
state, he soon evinced his insincerity. In a sort of triumph, he pro-
duced some papers of his brother Charles II. by which it appeared
that he had died a Roman Catholic ; and in contempt of the feelings of
the people, on the first Sunday of his reign, he went publicly to mass.
The duke of Norfolk, who carried the sword of state, stopt at the
door of the chapel. "My lord," said the king, "your father would
have gone farther." — " Your majesty's father," replied the spirited
noble, "would not have gone so far."
While James was proceeding thus, and indulging himself in the
prospect of subverting the established religion, the duke of Monmouth,
who, on the death of Lord Russel, had gone over to Flanders, trusting
to the affectionate regard he had always enjoyed among the protest-
ants, whose cause he had ever espoused, formed the design of bring-
ing about a revolution. To the immediate execution of this rash and
unhappy enterprise, which his own judgment led him to wish deferred,
he was chiefly instigated by the active spirit of the earl of Argyle.
Having prepared a squadron of six vessels, badly manned, and very
ill supplied, they divided, and with three each, sailed for the places
of their destination : Monmouth landed at Lyme, in Dorsetshire, on
the 11th of June, 1085, with 150 men, and marching thence to Taun-
ton, his army immediately increased to 6000 ; besides which he was
obliged daily to dismiss great numbers for want of arms.
In the meanwhile, the earl of Argyle had landed in Argyleshirc, where
he found the militia prepared to oppose him. But being immediately
MONMOUTH AND ARGYLE. 561
joined by his brave vassals and faithful partizans, lie penetrated into
the western counties, hoping to be joined by the disafl'ccted cove-
nanters. But his little squadron being captured, and his brave fol-
lowers having lost their baggage in a morass in Renfrewshire, every
hope was extinguished, and they were necessitated to disperse foi
immediate preservation.
The unfortunate nobleman assumed a disguise, but he was soon
taken by two peasants, and conducted to Edinburgh, where he was
executed without a trial, on an unjust sentence which ha-d been for-
merly pronounced on him. At his death he discovered all that he-
roic firmness which lie had formerly manifested in his life, together
with a great degree of piety. " .Job tells us," said he, " that man that
is born of a Avoman, is of few days and full of trouble ; and I am a
clear instance of it. I know afflictions spring not out of the dust; they
are not only foretold, but promised to Christians ; and they are not
only tolerable but desirable. We ought to have a deep reverence and
fear of God's displeasure, but withal, a firm hope and dependence on
him for a blessed issue, in compliance with his will ; for God chastens
his own to refine, and not to ruin them. We are neither to despise,
nor to faint under afflictions. 1 ffcely forgive all who have been the
cause of my being brought to this place ; and I entreat all people to
forgive me wherein I have offended, and pray with me, that the mer-
ciful God would sanctify my present end, and for Christ's sake par-
don all my sins, and receive me to his eternal glory."
The fatal news of the defeat of this nobleman and his followers, no
sooner reached the duke of Monmouth than he sunk into despon-
dency. He now began to see the temerity of his vmdertaking, and
endeavoured to provide for his safety and that of his army. He there-
fore began to retreat till he re-entered Bridgewater, the royal army
being in his rear. Here he ascended a tower, from Avhence viewing
the army of Lord Feversham, his hopes again revived, while he medi-
tated an attack. He accordingly made the most skilful arrange-
ments, but unfortunately committing an important post to Lord Grey,
that dastardly soldier betrayed him, and, notwithstanding the courage
of his undisciplined troops, who repulsed the veteran forces of the
king, alid drove them from the field, a want of ammunition prevented
them frorn pursuing their advantages, the royal troops rallied, dis-
persed their unfortunate adversaries, and slew about 1500 of them in
the battle and pursuit. ,
Monmouth, seeing the conflict hopeless, galloped off the field, and
continued his flight for twenty miles, until his horse sunk under him,
when the unfortunate prince, almost as exhausted as the animal,
wandered on foot for a few miles farther, and then sunk down, over-
came with hunger and fatigue. He was shortly afterwards disco-
vered, lying in a ditch, exhausted and almost senseless. He burst
into tears when seized by his enemies, and being still anxious to pre-
serve his life, for the sake of his wife and children, wrote very sub-
missively to .lames, conjuring him to spare the issue of a brother who
had always shown himself firmly attached to his interest. The king
finding him thus depressed, admitted him into his presence, with the
hope of extorting from him a discovery of his accomplices. But Mon-
mouth, however desirous of life, scorned to purchase it at the price ot
so much infamy. Finding all efforts to excite compassion in the
36
562 20^^ OF MART YRS.
breast of the inexorable James fruitless, he prepared himself for death
with a spirit becoming his rank and character ; and on the 15lh ot
July was brought to the scaffold, amidst the tears and groans of the
people. Previously to his death, he said, that he repented of his sins,
and was more particularly concerned for the blood that had been spilt
on his account. " Instead," said he, " of being accounted factious
and rebellious, the very opposing of popery and arbitrary power will
sufficiently apologise for me. I have lived, and now die in this opi-
nion, that God will work a deliverance for his people. I heartily for-
give all who have wronged me, even those who have been instrumen-
tal to my fall, earnestly praying for their souls. I hope that King
James will show himself to be of his brother's blood, and extend his
mercy to my children, they being not capable to act, and, therefore,
not conscious of any offence against the government."
He conjured the executioner to spare him the second blow ; but the
man, whose heart was unfit for his office, struck him feebly, on which
the duke, gently turning himself round, cast a look of tender reproach
upon him, and then again meekly submitted his head to the axe ; the
executioner struck him again and again to no purpose, and then
threw aside the axe, declaring that he was ir.capable of completing
the bloody task. The sheriff, however, obliged liim to renew the at-
tempt, and by two blows more the head was severed from the body.
That ambition had a share in moving both Monmouth and Argyle
to that step, which ended in their death, cannot be denied ; but among
their partisans, numbers were doubtless actuated by purer motives,
even the love of the cause of truth ; and though we cannot but lament
that mistaken zeal, which led them to assume the sword, in order to
advance the glory of Him, whose weapons are not carnal, but spi-
ritual, we must not refuse to enrol their ntmes with those of the mar-
tyrs, as they suffered in the same cause, and with the same heroic con-
stancy.
The victory thus obtained by the king in the commencement of his
reign, would naturally, had it been managed with prudence, have
tended much to increase his power and authority. But, by reason of
the cruelty with which it was prosecuted, and of the temerity with
which it afterwards inspired him, it was a principal cause of his sud-
den ruin and downfall.
Such arbitrary principles had the court instilled into all its servants,
that Fevepsham. immediatel54 after the victory, hanged above twenty
prisoners, and was proceeding in his executions, when the bishop of
Bath and Wells warned him, that these unhappy men were now by
law entitled to a trial, and that their execution would be deemed a real
murder. This remonstrance, however, did not stop the savage nature
of Colonel Kirke, a soldior of fortune, who had long served at Tan-
giers, and had contracted, from his intercourse with the Moors, an in-
humanity less known in European, and in free countries. At his first
entry into Bridgewater, he hanged nineteen prisoners, without the least
inquiry into the merits of their cause. As if to make sport with
death, he ordered a certain number to be executed, while he and his
company should drink the king's health, or the queen's, or that of
Chief Justice Jeffreys. Observing their feet to quiver in the agonies of
death, he cried, that he would give them music to their dancing, and
he immediately commanded the drums to beat, and the trumpets to
DUKE OF MONMOUTH. 563
sound. By way of experiment, he ordered one man lo be hung up
three limes, questioning him at each interval whether he repented of
his crime. But the man obstinately asserting, that, notwithstanding
the past, he still would willingly engage in the same cause, Kirke or-
dered him to be hung in chains. One story, commonly told of him, is
memorable for the treachery, as well as barbarity, which attended it.
A young maid pleaded for the life of her brother, and flung herself
at Kirke's feet, armed with all the charms which beauty and iimo-
cence, bathed in tears, could bestow upon her. The tyrant was in-
flamed with desire, not softened into love or clemency.
He promised to grant her request, provided that she, in her turn,
would be equally compliant to him. The maid yielded to the condi-
tions ; but, after she had passed the night with him, the wanton savage,
next morning, showed her, from the window, her brother, the darling
object for whom she had sacrificed her virtue, hanging on a gibbet,
which he had secretly ordered to be there erected for the execution.
Rage, and despair, and indignation, took possession of her mind, and
deprived her for ever of her senses. All the inhabitants of that coun-
try, innocent as well as guilty, were exposed to the ravages of this
barbarian. The soldiery were let loose to live at free quarters ; and
his own regiment, instructed by his example, and encouraged by his
exhortations, distinguished themselves in a particular manner by their
outrages. By way of pleasantry, he used to call them his lambs ; an
appellation which was long remembered, with horror, in the west of
England.
The violent Jeflreys succeeded after some interval, and showed the
people, that the rigours of law might equal, if not exceed, the ravages
of military tyranny. This man, who wantoned in cruelty, had already
given a specimen of his character in many trials where he presided ;
and he now set out with a savage joy, as to a full harvest of death and
destruction. He began at Dorchester, and thirty rebels being ar-
raigned, he exhorted them, but in vain, to save him, by their free con-
fession, the trouble of trying them ; and when twenty-nine were found
guilty, he ordered them, as an additional punishment of their disobe-
dience, to be led to immediate execution.
Most of the other prisoners, terrified with this example, pleaded
guilty, and no less than two hundred and ninety-two received sentence
at Dorchester. Of these eighty were executed. Exeter was the
next stage of his cruelty; two hundred and forty-three were there
triedj of whom a great number were condemned and executed. He
also opened his commission at Taunton and Wells, and every where
carried consternation along with him. The juries were so struck with
his menaces, that they gave their verdict with precipitation ; and many
innocent persons, it is said, were involved with the guilty. And, on
the whole, besides those who were butchered by the military com-
manders, two hundred and fifty-one are computed to have fallen by
the hand of justice. The whole country was strewed with the heads
and limbs of traitors. Every village almost beheld the dead carcase
of a wretched inhabitant. And all the rigours of justice, unabated by
any appearance of clemency, were fully displayed to the people by
the inhuman Jeffreys.
Of all the executions during this dismal perio(^, the most remarkable
were those of Mrs. Gaunt, and Lady Lisle, who had been accused of
564 BOOK OF MARTi'RS.
harbouring traitors. Mrs. Gaunt was an anabaptist, noted for her be-
neficence, which she extended to persons of all professions and per
suasions. One of the rebels knowing her luimane disposition, had
recourse to her in his distress, and was concealed by her. Hearing
of the proclamation which offered an indemnity and rewards to such
as discovered criminals, he betrayed his benefactress, and bore evi-
dence against her. He received a pardon as a recompense for his
treachery ; she was burned alive for her charity, on the 23d of Octo-
ber, 1685.
Lady Lisle was widow of one of the regicides, who had enjoyed
great favour and authoi'ity under Cromwell, Avho, having fled, after the
restoration, to Lauzanne in Switzerland, was there assassinated by
three Irish ruffians, who hoped to make their fortune by this piece of
service. His widow was now prosecuted, for harbouring two rebels,
the day after the battle of Sedgemore ; and Jefli-eys pushed on the
trial with an unrelenting violence. In vain did the aged prisoner
plead, that these criminals had been put into no proclamation; had
been convicted by no verdict ; nor could any man be denominated a
traitor, till the sentence of some legal court was passed upon him ;
that it appeared not, by any proof, that she was so much as acquainted
with the guilt of the persons, or had heard of their joining the rebel-
lion of Monmouth ; that though she might be obnoxious, on account
of her family, it was well known, that her heart was ever loyal, and
that no person in England had shed more tears for that tragical event,
in which her husband had unfortunately borne too great a share ; and
that the same principles, which she herself had ever en^braced, she
had carefully instilled into her son, and had at that very time, sent
him to fight against those rebels, whom she was now accused of har-
bouring. Though these arguments did not move Jeffreys, they had
influence on the jury. Twice they seemed inclined to bring in a fa-
vourable verdict ; they were as often sent back with menaces and
reproaches, and at last were constrained to give sentence against the
prisoner. Notwithstanding all applications for pardon, the cruel
sentence was executed at Winchester, when she made the following
speech : —
Gentlemen, friends, and neighbours, it may be expected that I
should say something at my death, and in order thereunto I shall ac-
quaint you, that my birth and education were both near this place,
and that my parents instructed me in the fear of God, and I now die
of the reformed protestant religion ; believing that if ever popery
should return into this nation, it would be a very great and severe
judgment ; that I die in expectation of the pardon of all my sins, and
of acceptance with God the Father, by the imputed righteousness of
Jesus Christ, he being the end of the law for righteousness to every
one that believes. I thank God through Jesus Christ, that 1 do depart
under the blood of sprinkling, which speaketh better things than that
of Abel ; God having made this chastisement an ordinance to my
soul. I did onfie as little expect to come to this place on this occa-
sion, as any person in this place or nation ; therefore let all learn
not to be high-minded, but fear; the Lord is a sovereign, and will
lake what way he sees best to glorify himself in and by his poor
creatures ; and I do humbly desire to submit to his wdll, praying to
MRb. GAUNT.— LADY LISLE. 565
him that 1 may possess my soul in patience. The crime that was
laid to my charge, was for entertaining a non-conformist minister and
others in my house ; the said minister being sworn to have been in
the late duke of Monmouth's army ; but I have been told, that if I
had denied them, it would not at all have aflected me. I have no
excuse but surprise and fear, which I believe my jury must make use
of to excuse their verdict to tlie world. I have been also told, that
the court did use to be of counsel for the prisoner; but instead of ad-
vice, I had evidence against me from thence ; which, though it were
only by hearsay, might possibly affect my jury, my defence being
but such as might be expected from a weak woman ; but such as it
was, I did not hear it repeated again to the jury ; which, -^s I have
been informed, is usual in such cases. However, I forgive all the
W'Orld, and therein all tliose that have done me wrong; and in par-
ticular I forgive Colonel Penruddock, although he told me, that he
could have taken these men before they came to my house. And I
do likewise forgive him, who desired to be taken away from the grand
jury to the petty jury, that he might be the more nearly concerned in
my death. As to what may be objected in reference to my convic-
tion, that I gave it under my hand, that I had discoursed with Nel-
thorp ; that could be no evidence against me, being after my convic-
tion and sentence : I do acknowledge his majesty's favour in revoking
my sentence : I pray God to preserve him, that he may long reign
in mercy, as well as justice, and that he may reign in peace ; and
that the protestant religion may flourish .under him"! I also return
thanks to God and the reverend clergy that assisted me in my im-
prisoment."
The king said, that he had given Jeffreys a promise not to pardon
her ; an excuse w^hich could serve only to aggravate the blame
against himself.
We shall here conclude our account of the barbarities committed
by those monsters, Jeffreys and Kirke, in the west of England ; not
that we have related the w hole, or even a tenth part of them ; but an
unvarying recital of cruellies is tedious and disgusting, however true ;
and we therefore pass on to other matters ; merely observing, that be-
sid.e those who were hanged, great numbers were severely whipped,
and imprisoned ; and almost every gentleman in that part of the coim-
try was subjected to enormous fines, to hesitate about the payment of
which w-as construed into high treason ; even those who received his
majesty's gracious pardon, were compelled to purchase it by bribing
the court favourites ; and, on the whole, there was scarcely a family
in Somersetshire, Dorsetshire, and the adjoining counties, which had
not to mourn the death or the sufferings of some of its members, or
was not reduced to comparative poverty by the exactions of the har-
pies of the court
SQQ BOOK OF MARTYRS.
SECTION VII.
REBELLIONS AND CONSPIRACIES FORMED BY THE PAPISTS, FROM THE
REVOLUTION TO THE REIGN OF GEORGE II.
It IS now our task to relate another of those horrible plots whirh
will forever disgrace the name of Popery, and render it obnoxious to
every one who is not blinded by the specious statements of its sup-
porters— we mean the Assassination Plot, formed for the destruc-
tion of that truly great and good monarch, William III.
The Assassination Plot.
The papists, whose souls were still anxious to eclipse the power of
the protestants, and to subvert the government, had been for some
time, projecting another scheme to answer their wished-for purposes,
and at length an opportunity offered ; but, happily for England, it
was providentially frustrated.
The intent of this diabolical scheme was to assassinate William III.
and to restore James to the English throne. It was first projected by
the French king, and furthered by the popish emissaries in England.
King William had been, for a considerable time, at war with
France ; and had such success as almost to ruin and depopulate that
country. This so enraged the French monarch, that he determined
to make one grand and final effort to restore, if possible, James, his
friend and ally, to the throne ; as to the success of which they were
filled with the most sanguine hopes, by the death of queen Mary,
which circumstance, they supposed, had greatly lessened the king's
interest in this country.
The scheme of an invasion, and the design of taking off the Eng-
lish monarch, were publicly mentioned in France in the beginning of
February, 1695; and it Avas known that Louis had sent an army to
Calais, so that nothing but a favourable opportunity seemed wanting
to begin the daring attempt.
On the 18th of February, James set out for Calais, when the troops,
artillery, and stores, were ordered to be put on board the vessels lying
there for that purpose ; news being hourly expected from England of
the assassination being perpetrated.
In the mean time the duke of Wirtemberg, alarmed at the reports
current in France, despatched an aid-de-camp to England in order to
inform William of the destruction which awaited him. The prince
of Vaudemont, then at Brussels, despatched messengers with the same
intelligence, adding, that he had laid an embargo on all the ships in
the harbours Df Flanders, in order to transport troops into England for
his majesty's service. But notwithstanding all the expedition used by
the duke of Wirtemberg, the king had, some time before the arrival
of his messenger, received certain accounts, not only of the iniended
invasion, but also of the conspiracy against his person.
The principal persons in England concerned in the plot for assas-'
sinating the king, were the following: the earl of Aylesbury, Lord
Montgomery, son to the marquis of Powis, Sir John Fenwi-^k, Sir
William Perkins, Sir John Friend, Captain Charnock, Captain Porter,
and Mr. Goodman.
The duke of Berwick (an illegitimate son of James II.) had come
ASSASSINATION PLOT, 567
privately over to England, in the beginning of February, in order to
hapten the preparations of the conspirators, whom he assured that King
James was ready to make a descent, at the head of twenty- two thou-
sand French troops. At the same time he distributed commissions,
and gave directions for procuring men, horses, and arms, for joining
him on his arrival. Various rumours were spread, with regard to the
nature of these commissions : some said they imjiortcd nothing more
than to levy war against the prince of Orange and all his adherents,
and that King James was totally ignorant of the more detestable part ,
of the scheme; while others asserted that they related to both.
But however that may be, the conspirators, who were several in
number, besides those already mentioned, had held various meetings,
in order to concert the most proper measures for executing their hell-
ish design. Sir George Berkeley, a native of Scotland, a person of
undaunted courage, close, cautious, and circumspect, though a furious
bigot to the church of Rome, came over in January with a private
commission from King James, by virtue whereof, the party in Eng-
land were implicitly to obey his orders. This person undertook the
detestable task of murdering the king, with the assistance of forty
horsemen, furnished by the conspirators. Various methods were at
first proposed for effecting this pupose ; but it was at last determined
to attack the king on his return from Richmond, where he usually
hunted every Saturday. The place pitched upon was the lane lead-
ing from Brentford to Turnham Green. Perhaps a place more likely
could not be found ; for his majesty generally returning late from the
chase, usually crossed the ferry, attended by only a few of his guards,
without coming out of his coach; and as he landed on the Middlesex
side of the river, the coach drove on without stopping for the rest ol
the guards, who were obliged to Avait on the Surry side till the boa
returned to carry them over. So that the king must inevitably hav
fallen into the hands of the conspirators, before the rest of his guan'
could have come to his assistance.
Nor were the time and place more artfully contrived, than the dis
position and arrangement of the men : for, having secured several
places in Brentford, Turnham-Green, and other houses in the neigh-
bourhood, to put up their horses, till the king returned from hunting,
one of the conspirators was ordered to wait at tlie ferry till the guards
appeared on the Surry side of the water ; and then to give speedy
notice to the rest, that they might be ready at their respective posts,
while the king was crossing the river. In order to this, they were
divided into three parties, who were to make their approaches by
three different ways ; one from Turnham-Green, another from the
lane leading to the Thames, and a third from the road leading through
Brentford. One of these parties was to attack the king's guards in
the front, another in the rear, while ten or twelve of the most daring
and resolute were to assassinate his majesty by firing their blunder-
busses at him through the coach windows. It was also agreed, that
when the bloody purpose was accomplished, the consj)irators should
form one body, ind continue their route to Hammcrsmitli, and tliere
divide themselves into small parties of tliree or four, and make the
best of their way to Dover, where the sudden landing of the French
would secure them from the rage of the populace, and the hand of
iustice. Sir George Berkeley complaining tho'. tlie money he h&J
56S BOOK OF MARTYRS.
brought over with him was so nearly exhausted, that the remainilcr
was. not sufficient to furnish forty horses, the only necessaries which
were now wanting, they agreed that he should find but half the num-
ber, and Sir William Perkins, Porter, and Charnock, were to provide
the rest.
Saturday, the 15th of February, was fixed for the murder of the
king, but liis majesty being indisposed, did not gc abroad that day
This trivial circumstance struck the assassins witli dismay. They
immediately concluded that the conspiracy Avas discovered ; but find
Ing that all remained quiet, they again met, and agreed to be in readi-
nesson the Saturday folloAving. Just as they were setting out, they
received intelligence from Chambers and Durant, two of their acconi-
plices, that the guards were all come back in great haste, and that
there was a whisper among the people, that a horrid plot was disco-
vered. This news put the conspirators into the utmost consternation,
and they immediately dispersed.
The conspiracy was discovered in the following manner : Captain
Porter, the day before the scheme was to have been put into execu-
tion, divulged the whole plot to an intimate friend of his, named Pen-
dergrass, whom he solicited to be one of their number. Pendergrass
seemingly complied ; but, struck with horror at the atrociousness ol
the crime, he instantly acquainted the earl of Portland with the
scheme, and desired he might be introduced to the king, which being
complied with, he fully made known to him all the particulars he
knew of this horrid conspiracy, and, after many entreaties from the
king, added to^ a solemn promise that he should not be produced a?
an evidence without his own consent, he gave in a list of the as-
sassins.
A proclamation was now issued for apprehending the conspirators
and most of them were secured, but Berkeley found means to escape.
Admiral Russel was ordered to Chatham, to hasten the fleet out to
sea. The rendezvous was appointed in the Downs, to which place all
the men of war then in the sea ports, were ordered to sail. This was
accomplished with such expedition, that in a few days a fleet of fifty
sail had assembled, with which the admiral stood over to the French
coast. The enemy, astonished at his sudden appearance, retired with
the utmost precipitation into their harbours ; and James, perceiving
that his design was defeated, returned, overwhelmed with despair, to
St. Germain's, where he passed the remainder of his life.
On the 2-lth of February, the king went to the ho\ise of peers, and
in a speech to both houses, informed them of the conspiracy, and in-
tended invasion. In a very affectionate and loyal address, "they con-
gratulated him on his escape from the designs of hi! enemies, declared
their abhorrence of such villanous attempts, and solemnly promised
to^ assist his majesty, and defend his royal person against all his ene-
mies, declared and private. They likewise drew up an association to
the same purpose, which was signed by all the members. From the
parliament the association was carried to every part of the kingdom,
and signed by all ranks of people. The bishops drew up a particulai
form, but in the same spirit, which was subscribed to by the greater
part of the clergy.
On the nth of March, Robert Chainock, Edward King, and Thomas
Keys, three of the conspirators, were brought 10 their trials at the Old
A.TTERBURVS PLOT. 569
Bailey. The court indulged ihcm with all the liberty they could cle-
.sire to make tlieir defence ; notwithstanding which, they were, upon
the fullest and plainest evidence, found guilty of high treason ; an<l
sentence being passed upon them, they were, on the 18th of March,
hanged and quartered at Tyburn. Their execution was followed by
that of several others of the conspirators ; a proclamation was issued
for apprehending Lord Montgomery, and Sir John Fenwick, suspected
to be accomplices in the plot, and the earl of Aylesbury was commit-
ted to the tower on the same suspicion.
The case of Sir John Fenwick Avas, some time after, brought into
the house of commons, where, though his guilt was thoroughly proved,
he could not be convicted by the common law, on account of one posi-
tive evidence only appearing against him ; a bill of attainder Avas,
therefore, after some debates, passed by both houses ; and, on the 28th
of March, he was beheaded on Tower-hill.
Thus was this horrid conspiracy happily frustrated, and the authors
of it brought to that condign punishment which their infamy merited.
The king's life was the security of his subjects, who heartily rejoiced,
as they had reason to do, in being thereby preserved from the mise-
-ies of popery and arbitrary government.
Rebellions and Plots in the Reigns of Anne, George I. and II.
During the three reigns above named, the papists anxiously sought
occasion to disturb the government, and to excite the religious and
political prejudices of the people against their sovereigns. In each
of these reigns rebellions were raised, which, however, led only to
the ruin and death of the conspirators, and strengthened, instead of
weakening, the attachment of the British nation to a line of monarch?
under Avhom they enjoyed the blessings of civil and religious liberty.
The particulars of these attempts are so well known, or may so easily
be learned, that it is quite unnecessary to occupy our pages with the
detail ; we shall, however, give the particulars of a plot in the year
1722, which, although equally atrocious, readers are not generally so
well acquainted with.
Atterhury^s Plot.
In the year 1722, advice was received from the duke of Orleans, ot
a most treacherous conspiracy carried on against the British govern-
ment in favour of the pretender. On this intelligence a camp was
formed in Hyde-Park, and the military officers were ordered to repair
to their respective commands ; some troops were called over from Ire-
land, and the Dutch states were desired to keep in readiness the gua-
rantee troops, in order to be sent to England in case of emergency.
The conspirators had, by their emissaries, made the strongest soli-
citations to foreign powers for assistance, but were disappointed in
their expectations ; notwithstanding which, confiding in their num-
bers, they resolved to trust to their own strength, and to attempt the
subversion of the government. But their intentions being timely dis-
covered, their scheme was rendered abortive.
Several persons were apprehended as parties in this plot. The
earl of Orrery, the bishop of Rochester, and the lords North and Grey,
were committed to the tower for high treason ; and the duke of Nor
folk, Avho had been seized by his majesty's order, was, with the con
sent of the house of peers, sent to the same prison.
570 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
Christopher Layer, Esq. a counsellor, who had been also appre-
hended on account of this conspiracy, was tried at the King's Bench,
Westminster, on the 21st of Novertiber. His indictment set forth,
" that he had been employed in forming a most traitorous, horrid plot
and conspiracy against his majesty and his government, by enlisting
men for the Pretender's service, in order to stir up a rebellion ; and
also that he had held a correspondence with the Pretender, by carry-
ing letters and treasonable papers to him beyond the seas, and from
him to the disaffected in this kingdom." After a trial which lasted
seventeen hours, the jury brought him in guilty, and he received sen-
tence of death. He was reprieved from time to time, in the hope of
his making discoveries, but he either could not, or would not, satisfy
these expectations : he was, therefore, on the 17th of May, 1723,
drawn on a sledge to Tyburn, and there hanged and quartered, pur-
suant to his sentence ; after which his head was cut off, and fixed on
Temple Bar.
This conspiracy was so artfully carried on under fictitious names,
that it required the greatest application to come to the true knowledge
of some of the persons concerned. The committee which had been
appointed by the house of commons, to examine the papers relative
to the conspiracy, delivered it as their opinion, " that a design had
long been carried on by persons of distinction abroad, for placing the
Pretender on the throne of these kingdoms : that various methods had
been attempted, and different times fixed, for carrying their designs
into execution : that the first intention was to have procured a regular
body of foreign forces to invade these kingdoms, at the time of the late
elections ; but that the conspirators being disappointed in this expec
tation, they resolved next, to make an attempt at the time his majesty
intended to go to Hanover, by the help of such forces and soldiers
as could pass into England unobserved from abroad, under the com-
mand of the duke of Ormond, who was to have landed in the river with
a great quantity of arms provided in Spain for that purpose, at which
time the tower was likewise to have been seized, and the city of Lon-
don to have been made a place of arms ; but this design being also
prevented by the discoveries made in England, and his majesty's put-
ting off his journey ; by the encampment of the forces at home, as
well as the sending for those from Ireland ; by the readiness of his ma-
jesty's good allies, the States-General, to assist him in case of neces-
sity ; by the orders given in Spain, that the duke of Ormond should
not embark ; and the like orders issued in France, that he should not
be suffered to pass through that kingdom; the conspirators found them-
selves under the necessity of deferring their enterprise till the break-
ing up of the camp, during which interval they were labouring, by
their agents and emissaries, to corrupt and seduce the officers and sol-
diers of his majesty's army ; and so much did they depend on this de-
fection, as to entertain hopes of placing the Pretender on tho throne,
though they should not obtain any assistance from abroad, which ne-
vertheless they still continued to solicit."
The house of commons, after a mature deliberation of the whole
matter, brought in three several bills to inflict pains and penalties on
Atterbury, bishop of Rochester, John Plunket, and George Kelly, as
being principally concerned in this diabolical plot ; which bills passed
both houses, and received the royal assent. The bishop was deprived
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1811 to 1820. 571
of his office and benefice, banished the kingdom, and pronounced
guilty of felony if he returned ; the power of pardoning him was de-
nied'to the king, without the consent of parliament; but he was not
to forfeit his goods and chattels. Plunkel and Kelly were to be kept
in close custody, during his majesty's pleasure, in any prison in Great
Britain; and they were not to attempt an escape on pain of death, to
be inflicted on them and their assistants.
The duke of Norfolk, the Lord North and Grey, Dennis Kelly, and
Thomas Cochran, Esqrs. who had been confined in the tower, were
admitted to bail ; as was also David du Boyce, confined in Newgate on
the same account. A man of Avar Avas appointed to convey the bishop
of Rochester to France, the place he had chosen for his asylum du-
ring his exile ; and the royal pardon was granted to Lord Bolingbrokt,,
who owed that indulgence to the earnest solicitation of Lord Har-
court, though it was vehemently opposed at the council board.
Thus did this conspiracy, like the former, fall to the ground ; and,
excepting the attempt made in the succeeding reign, to overthrow the
government, by placing the Pretender on the throne, and thereby again
to establish popery, no other avowed eflbrt has since been made ; and
the protestant subjects of this realm have been, and it is hoped ever
will be, in an uninterrupted enjoyment of those religious principles
which are consistent with, and conformable to, the true gospel of the
Redeemer of mankind.
SECTION VII.
OF THE PERSECUTIONS OF THE FRENCH PROTESTANTS IN THE SOUTH
OF FRANCE DURING THE YEARS 1814 AND 1820.
The persecution of this protestant part of France had continued
with very little intermission from the revocation of the edict of Nantes,
by Louis XIV. till a very short period previous to the commencement
of the late French revolution. In the year 1785. M. Rebaut St. Eti-
enne and the celebrated M. de la Fayette were among the first per-
sons who interested themselves with the court of Louis XVI., in re-
moving the scourge of persecution from this injured people, the in-
habitants of the south of France.
Such Avas the opposition on the part of the catholics and the cour-
tiers, that it Avas not till the end of the year 1790, that the protestants
Avere freed from their alarms. Previously to this, the catholics at Nis-
mes in particular, had taken up arins ; Nismes then presented a fright-
ful spectacle ; armed men ran thr. . igh the city, fired from the corners
of the streets, and attacked all thef met Avith SAVords and forks. A
man named Astiw Avas Avounded and thrown into the aqueduct;
Baudon fell under the repeated strokes of bayonets and sabres, and
his bodywas also throAvn into the Avater; Boucher, a young man
only 17 years of age, was shot as he Avas looking out of his AvmdoAv ;
three electors Avounded, one dangerously ; another elector wounded,
only escaped death by repeatedly declaring he Avas a catholic ; a
third received four sabre Avounds, and Avas taken home dreadfully
mangled. The citizens that fled were arrested by the catholics upon
572 BOOK OF ]MARTYRS.
the roads, anJ obliged to give proofri of tlieir religion before their
lives wore granted. M. and Madame Vogue, were at their country
house, which the zealots broke open, where they massacred both, and
destroyed their dwelling. M. Blacher, a protestant seventy years of
age, was cut to pieces with a sickle ; young Pyerre, carrying some
food to his brother, was asked, " Catholic or protestant ?" " Protes-
tant," being the reply, a monster fired at the lad, and he fell. One of
the murderer's companions said, " you might as well have killed a
lamb ;" " 1 have sworn," replied he, " to kill four protestants for my
share, and this will count for one." However, as these atrocities pro-
voked the troops to unite in defence of the people, a terrible ven-
geance was retaliated upon the catholic party that had used arms,
which, with other circumstances, especially the toleration exercised
by Napoleon Buonaparte, kept them down completely till the year
1814, when the unexpected return of the ancient government rallied
them all once more round the old banners.
The arrival of King Louis XVIII. at Paris.
This was known at Nismes on the 13th of April, 1814. In a quar-
ter of an hour, the Avhite cockade was seen in every direction, the
white flag floated on the public buildings, on the splendid monuments
of antiquity, and even on the tower of Magne, beyond the city walls.
The protestants, whose commerce had suffered materially during the
war, were among the first to unite in the general joy, and to send in
their adhesion to the senate, and the legislative body; and several of
t'ae protestant departments sent addresses to the throne ; but unfor-
tunately, M. Froment was again "at Nismes at the moment ; when
many bigots being ready to join him, the blindness and fury of the
sixteenth century rapidly succeeded the intelligence and philanthropy
of the nineteenth. Aline of distinction was instantly traced between
men of different religious opinions ; the spirit of the old catholic
church was again to regulate each person's share of esteem and
safety. The difference of religion was now to govern every thing
else ; and even catholic domestics who had served protestants with
zeal and affection, began to neglect their duties, or to perform them
ungraciously, and with reluctance. At the fetes and spectacles that
were given at the public expense, the absence of the protestants was
charged on them as a proof of their disloyalty ; and in the midst of
the cries of " Vive le Roi" the discordant sounds of " A has le
Maire," down with the mayor, were heard. M. Castelan was a pro-
testant ; he appeared in public with the prefect M. Roland, a catho-
lic, when potatoes were thrown at him, and the people declared that
he ought to resign his office. The bigots of Nismes even succeeded
in procuring an address to be presented to the king, stating that there
ought to be in France but one God, one king, and one faith. In this
they were imitated by the catholics of several towns.
The History of the Silver Child.
About this time, M. Baron, counsellor of the Cour Royale of Nis-
mes, formed the plan of dedicating to God a silver child, if the Dutchess
d'Angouleme would give a prince to France. This project was
converted into a public religious vow, which was the subject of con-
versation both in public and private, whilst persons, whose imagina-
tions were inflamed by these proceedings, run obout the streets crying,
NAPOLEON'S RETURN FROM ELBA 573
Vivent Ics Bourlons, or the Bourbon-s for ever. In consequence of this
superstitious frenzy, it is said tliat, at Alais, women Avere advised and
instigated to poison their protcstant husbands, and at length it was
founil convenient to accuse them of pohtical crimes. They could
no longer appear in public without insults and injuries. "When the
mobs met with protestants, they seized them, and danced round them
with barbarous joy, and amidst repeated cries of T7re Ic Roi, they
sung verses, the burden of which was, " "We will wash our hands in
protcstant blood, and make black puddings of the blood of Calvin's
children." The citizens who came to the promenades for air and
refreshment, from the close and dirty streets, were chased with shouts
of Vive Ic Roi, as if those shouts were to justify every excess. If
protestants referred to the charter, they were directly assured it
would be of no use to them, and that they had only been managed to
be more effectually destroyed. Persons of rank Mere heard to say
in the public streets, " All the Huguenots must be killed ; tins time
their children must be killed, that none of the accursed race may re-
main." Still it is true they were not murdered, but cruelly treated ;
protcstant children could no longer mix in the sports of catholics,
and were not even permit'ed to appear without their parents. At
dark their families shut themselves up in their apartments ; but even
then stones were thrown against their windows. When they arose
in the morning, it was not uncommon to find gibbets drawn on their
doers or walls ; and in the streets the catholics held cords already
soaped before their eyes, and pointed out the instruments by which
they hoped and designed to exterminate them. Small gallows or
models were handed about, and a man who lived opposite to one of
the pastors, exhibited one of these models in his window, and made
signs sufficiently intelligible when the minister passed. A figure re-
presenting a protcstant preacher was also hung up on a public cross-
way, and the most atrocious songs were sung under his window.
Towards the conclusion of the carnival, a plan had even been form-
ed to make a caricature of the four ministers of the place, and burn
them in effigy ; but this Avas prevented by the mayor of Nism.es, a
protcstant. A dreadful song presented to the prefect, in the country
dialect, with a false translation, Avas printed by his approval, and had
a great run before he saAV the extent of the error into Avhicli he had
been betrayed. The sixty-third regiment of the line Avas publicly
censured and insulted, for having, according to order, protected pro-
testants. In fac«, the piotestants seemed to be as sheep destined for
the slaughter.
Napoleon's Return from the Isle of Elba.
Soon after this event, the Duke d'Angouleme Avas at Nismes, and
remained there some time ; but even his influence Avas insufficient to
bring about a reconciliation between the catholics and the protestants
of that city. During the hundred days betAvixt Napoleon's return
from the Isle of Elba, and his final downfall, not a single life was lost
in Nismes, not a single house Avas pillaged ; only four of the most
notorious disturbers of the peace Averc punished, or rather prevented
from doing mischief; and. even this Avas not an act of the protestants,
but the arretc of the cat'holic prefect, announced every Avhere Avith
the utmost publicity. S'jme time after, Avhen M. Baron, Avho proposed
574 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
tlic vow of the silver child in favour of the Dutchess d'Angouleiue
who was considered as the chief of the catholic royalists, was disco-
y^ ved at the bottom of an old wine tun, the populace threw stones at
his carriage, and vented their feelings in abusive language. The
protestant officers protected him from injury.
The Catholic arms at Beaucaire.
In May, 1815, a federative association, similar to those of Lyons,
Grenoble, Paris, Avignon, and Montpellier, was desired by many per-
sons at Nismes ; but this federation terminated here after an ephe-
meral and illusory existence of fourteen days. In the mean while a
large party of catholic zealots were in arms at Beaucaire, and who
soon pushed their patroles so near the walls of Nismes, "as to alarm
the inhabitants." These catholics applied to the English off Mar-
seilles for assistance, and obtained the grant of 1000 muskets, 10,000
cartouches, &c. General Gilly, however, was soon sent against
these partizans, who prevented them from coming to extremes, by
granting them an armistice ; and yet when Louis XVIII. had returned
to Paris, after the expiration of Napoleon's reign of a hundred days,
and peace and party spirit seemed to have been subdued, even at
Nismes, bands from Beaucaire joined Trestaillon in this city, to glut
the vengeance th?yhad so long premeditated. General Gilly had left
the department several days : the troops of the line left behind had
taken the white cockade, and waited farther orders, Avhilst the royal
commissioners had only to proclaim the cessation of hostilities, and
the complete establishment of the king's authority. In vain, no com-
missioners appeared, no despatches arrived to calm and regulate the
public mind ; but towards evening the advanced guard of the ban-
ditti, to the amount of several hundreds, entered the city, undcsired
but unopposed. As they marched without order or discipline, co-
vered with clothes or rags of all colours, decorated with cockades,
Tioiwhite, huiwhite and green, armed with muskets, sabres, forks, pis-
tols, and reaping hooks, intoxicated with wine, and stained with the
blood of the protestants whom they had murdered on their route, they
presented a most hideous and appalling spectacle. In the open place
in the front of the barracks, this banditti was joined by the city armed
mob, headed by Jacques Dupont, commonly called Trestaillon. To
save the effusion of blood, this garrison of about 500 men consented
to capitr.late, and marched out sad and defenceless ; but when about
fifty had pas.sed, the rabble commenced a tremendous fire on their
confiding and unprotected victims ; nearly all were killed or wounded,
and but A'ery few could re-enter the yard before the garrison gates
were again closed. These were again forced in an instant, and all
were massacred who could not climb over roofs, or leap into the ad
joining gardens. In a word, death met them in every place and in
every shape, and this catholic massacre rivalled in cruelty, and sur-
passed in treachery, the crimes of the September assassins of Paris,
and the Jacobinical butcheries of Lyons and Avignon. It was marked,
not only by the fervour of the revolution, but by the subtlety of the
league, and will long remain a blot upon the history of the second
restoration.
Massacre and Pillage at Nismes.
Nismes now exhibited a most awful scene of outrage and carnage.
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820. 575
though many of the protestants had fled to the Ccvenncs and the Gar-
donenque. The country houses of Messrs. Rey, Guiret, and several
others, had been pillaged, and the inhabitants treated with wanton bar-
barity. Two parties had glutted their savage appetites on the farm of
Madame Frat : the first, after eating, drinking, breaking the furni-
ture, and stealing what they thought proper, took leave by announ-
cing the arrival of their comrades, V compared with whom," they said,
" they should be thought merciful." Three men and an old woman
were left on the premises : at the sight of the second cnmj)any two of
the men fled. "Are you a catholic?" said the banditti to the old wo-
man. "Yes." " Repeat, then, your Pater and Ave." Being terrified,
she hesitated, and w^as instantly knocked down with a musket. On
recovering her senses she stole out of the house, but met Ladct, the
old valet defer me, bringing in a salad which tlie depredators had or-
dered him to cut. In vain she endeavoured to persuade him to fly.
" Are you a protestant T" they exclaimed ; " I am." A musket being
discharged at him, he fell wounded, but not dead. To consumm.atc
their work, the monsters lighted a fire with straw and boards, threw
their yet living victim into the flames, and sufl'ered him to expire in
the most dreadful agonies. They then ate their salad, omelet, <fec.
The next day some labourers, seeing the house open and deserted,
entered, and discovered the half consumed bodyof Ladet. The pre-
fect of the Gard, M. Darbaud Jouques, attempting to palliate the crimes
of the catholics, had the audacity to assert that Ladet was a catholic ;
but this was publicly contradicted by two of the pastors at Nismes.
Another party committed a dreadful murder at St. Cezaire, upon
Imbert La Plume, the husband of Suzon Chivas. He was met on re-
turning from work in the fields. The chief promised him his life, but
insisted that he must be conducted to the prison at JNismes. Seeing,
however, that the party was determined to kill him, he resumed his
natural character, and being a powerful and courageous man, ad-
vanced, and exclaimed, " You are brigands — fire !" Four of them
fired, and he fell, but he was not dead ; and while living they muti-
lated his body, and then passing a cord roimd it, drew it along, at-
tached to a cannon of which they had possession. It was not till after
eight days that his relatives were apprized of his death. Five indi
viduals of the family of Chivas, all husbands and fathers, were mas
sacred in the course of a few days.
Near the barracks at Nismes is a large and handsome house, the
property of M. Vitte, which he acquired by exertion and economy.
Besides comfortable lodgings for his own family, he let more than
twenty chambers, mostly occupied by superior officers and commissa-
ries of the army. He never inquired the opinion of his tenants, and
of course his guests were persons of all political parties ; but, under
pretence of searching for concealed officers, his apartments were
overrun, his furniture broken, and his property carried off" at pleasure.
The houses of Messrs. Lagorce, most respectable merchants and
manufacturers, M. Matthieu, M. Negre, and others, shared the same
fate : many only avoided by the owners paying large sums as com-
mutation money, or escaping into the country with their cash.
Interference of Government against the Protestants.
M. Bern-s, extraordinary royal commissioner, in consequence of
576 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
these abuses, issued a proclamation which reflects disgrace on the an
thority from whence it emanated. " Considering," it said, "that the
residence of citizens in places foreign to their domicil, can only be
prejudicial to the communes they have left, and to those to v/hich ihey
have repaired, it is ordered, tJiat those inhabitants who have quilted
their residence since the commencement of July, return home by the
2Sth at the latest, otherwise they shall be deemed accomplices of the
evil-disposed persons who disturb the public tranquillity, and their pro-
perty shall be placed under provisional sequestration."
The fugitives had sufficient inducements to return to their hearths,
without the fear of sequestration. They were more anxious to cm-
brace their fathers, mothers, wives, and children, and to resume their
ordinary occupations, than M. Bernis could be to ensure their return.
But thus denouncing men as criminals, who fled for safety from the
sabres of assassins, was adding oil to the lire of persecution. Tres-
taillon, one of the chiefs of the brigands, was dressed in complete
uniform and epaulettes which he had stolen ; he wore a sabre at his
side, pistols in his belt, a cockade of white and green, and a sash of
the same colours on his arm. He had under him, Truphemy, Servan,
Aime, and many other desperate characters. Some time after this,
M. Bernis ordered all parties and individuals, armed or unarmed, to
abstain from searching houses without either an order, or the presence
of an officer. On suspicion of arms being concealed, the command-
ant of the town was ordered to furnish a patrol to make search and
seizure ; and all persons carrying arms in the streets, without being
on service, were to be arrested. Trestaillon, however, who still car-
ried arms, was not arrested till some months after, and then not by
these authorities, but by General La Garde, who was afterwards as-
sassinated by one of his comrades. On this occasion it was remarked,
that " the system of specious and deceptive proclamations was perfectly
understood, and had long been practised in Languedoc ; it was now
too late to persecute the protestants simply for their religion. Even
in the good times of Louis XIV. there was public opinion enough in
Europe to make that arch tyrant have recourse to the meanest strata-
gems." The following single specimen of the plan pursued by the
authors of the Dragonades may serve as a key to all the plausible pro-
clamations which, in 1815, covered the perpetration of the most de-
libente and extensive crimes : —
Letters from Louvois to Marillac.
" The king rejoices to learn from your letters, that there are so
many conversions in your department ; and he desires that you would
continue your efforts, and employ the same means that have been
hitherto so successful. Hir. majesty has ordered me to send a regi-
ment of cavalry, the greatest ])art of which he wishes to be quartered
upon the protestants, but he does not think it prudent that they should
be all lodged with them ; that is to say, of twenty-six masters, of which
a company is composed, if, by a judicious distribution, ten ought to
be received by the protestants, give them twenty, and put them all
on the rich, making this pretence, that when there are not soldiers
enough in a town for all to have some, the poor ought to be exempt,
and the rich burdened. His majesty has also thought proper to or-
der, that all converts be exempted from lodging soldiers for two years.
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820. 577
Tliis will occasion numerous conversions if you take care that it is
rigorously executed, and that in all tlie distributions and passage of
troops, by far the greatest number are quartered on the rich protest
ants. His majesty particularly enjoins, that your orders on this sub-
ject, either by yourself or your sub-delegates, be given by word of
mouth to the mayors and slieriffs, without letting them know that his
majesty intends by these means to force to become converts, and only
explaining to them, that you give these orders on the information you
have received, that in these places the rich are excepted by their in-
fluence, to the prejudice of the poor."
The merciless treatment of the women in this persecution at Nismes
was such as would have disgraced any savages ever heard of. The
widows Rivet and Bernard were forced to sacrifice enormous sums ;
and the house of Mrs. Lecointe was ravaged, and her goods destroy-
ed. Mrs. F. Didier had her dwelling sacked and nearly demolished
to the foundations. A party of these bigots visited the widow Perrin,
who lived on a little farm at the windmills : having committed every
species of devastation, they attacked even the sanctuary of the dead,
which contained the relics of her family. They dragged the coffins
out, and scattered the contents over the adjacent grounds. In vain
this outraged widow collected the bones of her ancestors and replaced
them : they Avere again dug up ; and, after several useless eflbrts,
they were reluctantly left spread over the surface of the fields.
Till the period announced for the sequestration of the property of
the fugitives by authority, murder and plunder were the daily employ-
ment of what was called the army of Beaucaire, and the catholics of
Nismes. M. Peyron, of Brossan, had all his property carried off":
his wine, oil, seed, grain, several score of sheep, eight mules, three
carts, his furniture and efiiects, all the cash that could be found, and
he had only to congratulate himself that his habitation was not con-
sumed, and his vineyards rooted up. A similar process against se-
veral other protestant farmers was also regularly carried on during
several days. Many of the protestants thus persecuted were well
known as staunch royalists ; but it was enough for their enemies to
know that they belonged to the reformed communion : these fanatics
were determined not to find either royalists or citizens worthy the
common protection of society. To accuse, condemn, and destroy a
protestant, was a matter that required no hesitation. The house of
M. Vitte, near the barracks at Nismes, was broken open, and every
thing within the walls demolished. A Jew family of lodgers was
driven out, and all their goods thrown out of the windows. M.
V^itte was seized, robbed of his watch and money, severely wounded,
and left for dead. After he had been fourteen hours in a state of in-
sensibility, a commissary of police, touched by his misfortunes, ad-
ministered some cordials to revive him ; and, as a measure of safe-
ty, conducted him to the citadel, where he remained many days,
whilst his family lamented him as dead. At length, as there was not
the slightest charge against him, he obtained his liberation from M.
Vidal ; but when the Austrians arrived, one of the aides-de-camp,
who heard of his sufferings and his respectability, sought him out,
and furnished an escort to conduct his family to a place of safety.
Dalbos, the only city beadle M'ho was a protestant, was dragged from
his home and led to prison. His niece threw herself on the neck of
37
578 GOOK OF MARTYRS.
one "f them and begged for mercy : the ruffian dashed her to the
ground. His sister was driven away by the mob ; and he being shot,
his body remained a long time exposed to the insults of the rabble.
Royal Decree in favour of the Persecuted.
At length the decree of Louis XVIII., which annulled all the ex-
traordinary powers conferred either by the king, the princes, or su-
bordinate agents, was received at Nismes, and the laws were now to
be administered by the regular organs, and a new prefect arrived to
carry them into eflect; but in spite of proclamations, the work of de-
struction, stopped for a moment, was not abandoned, but soon renew-
ed with fresh vigour and effect. On the 30ih of July, Jacques Combe,
the father of a family, was killed by some of the national guards of
Rusau, and the crime was so public, that the commander of the party
restored to the family the pocket-book and papers of the deceased.
On the following day tumultuous ci'owds roamed about the city and
suburbs, threatening the wretched peasants ; and on the 1st of August
they butchered them without opposition. About noon on the same
day, six armed men, headed by Truphemy the butcher, surround-
ed the house of Monot, a carpenter ; two of the party, who were
smiths, had been at work in the house the day before, and had seen
a protestant who had taken refuge there, M. Bourillon, Avho had been
a lieutenant in the army, and had retired on a pension. He was a
man of an excellent character, peaceable and harmless, and had ne-
ver served the Emperor Napoleon. Truphemy not knowing him,
he was pointed out, partaking of a frugal breakfast Avith the family.
Truphemy ordered him to go along with him, adding, " Your friend,
Saussine, is already in the other world." Truphemy placed him in
the middle of his troop, and artfully ordered him to cry Vive VEm-
pcreur : he refused, adding, he had never served the emperor. In
vain did the women and children of the house intercede for his life,
and praise his amiable and virtuous qualities. He was marched to
the Esplanade and shot, first by Truphemy and then by the others.
Several persons, attracted by the firing, approached, but were threat-
ened with a similar faie. After some time the wretches departed,
shouting Vive le Roi. Some women met them, and one of them ap-
pearing affected, said one, " I have killed seven to-day, for my share,
and if you say a word, you shall be the eighth." Pierre Courbet, a
stocking weaver, was torn from his loom by an armed band, and shot
at his own door. His eldest daughter was knocked down with the
butt end of a musket ; and a poignard was held at the breast of his
wife Avhile the mob plundered her apartments. Paul Heraut, a silk
weaver, was literally cut in pieces, in the presence of a large crowd,
and amidst the unavailing cries and tears of his wife and four young
children. The murderers only abandoned the corpse to return to
Heraut's house and secure every thing valuable. The number of
murders on this day could not be ascertained. One person saw six
bodies at the Cours Nevf, and nine were carried to the hospital.
If murder some time after become less frequent for a few days, pil-
lage and forced contributions were actively enforced. M. Salle
d'Hombro, at several visits, was robbed of 7000 francs ; and, on one
occasion, when he pleaded the sacrifices he had made, " Look," said
a bandit, pointing to his pipe, " this will set fire to your house ; and
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820. 579
this," brandishing bis sword, " will finish you." No reply could be
made to these arguments. M. Feline, a silk manufacturer, was rob-
bed of 32,000 francs in gold, 3000 francs in silver, and several bales
of silk.
The small shopkeepers were continually exposed to visits and de-
mands of provisions, drapery, or whatever they sold ; and the same
hands that set fire to the houses of the rich, and tore up the vines of
the cultivator, broke the looms of the weaver, and stole the tools of
the artizan. Desolation reigned in the sanctuary and in the city.
The armed bands, instead of being reduced, were increased ; the fu-
gitives, instead of returning, received constant accessions, and their
friends who sheltered them were deemed rebellious. Those protes-
tants who remained were deprived of all their civil and religious
rights, and even the advocates and huissiers entered into a resolution
to exclude all of "the pretended reformed religion" from their bodies
Those who were employed in selling tobacco were deprived of their
licenses. The protestant deacons who had the charge of the poor
were all scattered. Of five pastors only two remained ; one of these
was obliged to change his residence, and could only venture to ad-
minister the consolations of religion, or perform the functions of his
ministry, under cover of the night.
Not contented with these modes of torment, calumnious and inflam-
matory publications charged the protestants with raising the proscri-
bed standard in the communes, and invoking the fallen Napoleon ;
and, of course, as unworthy the protection of the laws and the favour
of the monarch.
Hundreds after this were dragged to prison without even so much
IS a written order ; and though an Official Newspaper, bearing the
title of the Journal du Gard, was set up, for five months while it was
influenced by the prefect, the mayor, and other functionaries, the
word charter was never once used in it. One of the first numbers, 01
the contrary, represented the sufl'ering protestants as " Crocodiles
only weeping from rage and regret that they had no more victims to
devour ; as persons v.ho had surpassed Danton, Marat, and Robes-
pierre, in doing mischief: and as having prostituted their daughters
to the garrison to gain it over to Napoleon," An extract from this
article, stamped with the crown and the arms of the Bourbons, was
hawked about the streets, and the vender was adorned with the medal
of the police.
Petition of the Protestant Refugees.
To these reproaches it is proper to oppose the petition which the
Protestant Refugees in Paris presented to Louis XVIII. in behalf of
•heir brethren at Nismes.
" "We lay at your feet, sire, our acote suflerings. In your name
our fellow citizens are slaughtered, and their property laid waste.
INlisled peasants, in pretended obedience to your orders, liad assem-
bled at the command of a commissioner appointed by your august
nephew. Although ready to attack us, they were received with the
assurances of peace. On the 15th of .July, 1815, we learnt your ma-
jesty's entrance into Paris, and the wliile flag immediately waved on
our edifices. The public tranquillity had not been disturbed, when
rmed peasants introduced themselves. The garrison capitidated,
580 BOOK OF MARTYRS
but were assailed on their departure, and almost totally massacred
Our national guard was disarmed, the city filled with strangers, and
the houses of the principal inhabitants, professing the reformed reli-
gion, were attacked and plundered. We subjoin the list. Terror
has driven from our city the most respectable inhabitants.
" Your majesty has been deceived if there has not been placed be-
fore you the nicture of the horrors which make a desert of your good
city of Nismes. Arrests and proscriptions are continually taking
place, and difference of religious opinions is the real and only cause.
The calumniated protestants are the defenders of the throne. Youi
nephew has beheld our children under his banners, our fortunes have
been placed in his hands. Attacked Avithout reason, the protestants
have not, even by a just resistance, afforded their enemies the fatal
pretext for calumny. Save us, sire ! extinguish the brand of civil
war ; a single act of your will would restore to political existence a
city interesting for its population and its manufactures. Demand an
account of their conduct from the chiefs who have brought our mis-
fortunes upon us. We place before your eyes all the documents that
have reached us. Fear paralizes the hearts, and stifles the com-
plaints of our fellow citizens. Placed in a more secure situation, we
venture to raise our voice in their behalf," &c. &c.
Monstrous Outrage upon Females.
At Nismes it is well known that the women wash their clothes either
at the fountains, or on the banks of streams. There is a large basin
near the fountain, where numbers of women may be seen, every day,
kneeling at the edge of the water, and beating the clothes with heavy
pieces of wood in the shape of battledoors. This spot became the
scene of the most shameful and indecent practices. The catholic
rabble turned the women's petticoats over their heads, and so fasten-
ed them as to continue their exposure, and their subjection to a
newly invented species of chastisement ; for nails being placed in
the wood of the battoirs in the form of fieur-de-lis, they beat them till
the blood streamed from their bodies, and their cries rent the air.
Often was death demanded as a commutation of this ignominious
punishment, but refused with a malignant joy. To carry their outrage
to the highest possible degree, several who were in a state of preg-
nancy were assailed in this manner. The scandalous nature of these
outrages prevented many of the suflferers from making them public,
and, especially, from relating the most aggravating circumstances. " I
have seen," says M. Durand, " a catholic avocat, accompanying the
assassins in the fauxbourg Bourgade, arm a battoir with sharp nails
in the form of fleur-de-lis ; I have seen them raise the garments ol
females, and apply, with heavy blows, to the bleeding body this battoir
or battledoor, to which they gave a name which my pen refuses to
record. The cries of the suflferers — the streams of blood — the mur-
murs of indignation which Avere suppressed by fear — nothing could
move them. The surgeons who attended on those women who arc
dead, can attest, by the marks of their wounds, the agonies which they
must have endured, which, however horrible, is most strictly true."
Nevertheless, during the progress of these horrors and obscenities,
?o disgraceful to France and the catholic religion, the agent? of go
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820. 581
Ternment had a powerful force under their command, and by lionesiiy
employing it they might have restored tranquillity. Murder and rob-
bery, however, continued, and were winked at, by the catholic magis-
trates, with very few exceptions ; the administrative authorities, it is
true, used words in their proclamations, &c. but never had recourse
lo actions to stop the enormities of the persecutors, who boldly de-
clared, that, on tlie 24th, the anniversary of St. Bartholomew, they
intended to make a general massacre. The members of the reformed
church were filled with terror, and, instead of taking part in the
election of deputies, were occupied as well as they could in provi-
ding for their own personal safety.
Arrival of the Austrians at Nismes.
About this time, a treaty between the French court and the allied
sovereigns, prohibited the advance of the foreign troops beyond the
line of territory already occupied, and traced by the course of the
Loire, and by the Rhone, below the Ardeche. In violation of this
treaty, 4000 Austrians entered Nismes on the 24th of August ; under
pretence of making room for them, French troops, bearing ihe feudal
title of Royal Chasseurs, followed by the murdering bands of the Tr'^s-
taillons and Quatretallions, who continued their march to Alais, where
a fair was to be held, and carried disorder and alarm into all the com-
munes on that route. Notliing now was heard but denunciations of
fusillading, burning, razing, and annihilating ; and while the catholics
were feasting and murdering at Nismes, the flames of the country
houses of the protestants, rising 100 feet in the air, rendered the spec-
tacle still more awful and alarming. Unfortunately, some of the pea-
sants, falsely charged with the murder of two protestants, were brought
to Nismes while the prefect was celebrating the fete of St. Louis. At
a splendid dinner given to the Austrian commanders, and even with-
out quitting the table, it appears, that the French prefect placed the
fate and fortune of these unfortunate prisoners at the disposal of Count
Stahremberg, who, of course, believing the representations made to
him, ordered the accused to be immediately shot. To mortify and
exhaust the protestant communes, the Austrians were directed to oc-
cupy them, where they completely disarmed the inhabil^ants without
the least opposition. In fact, these foreigners were soon undeceived.
They expected to meet the most perfidious and brutal enemies in arms,
and in open rebellion against their king ; but, on the contrary, they
found them all in peace, and experienced the most kind and respectful
treatment ; and though their duty was a most vexatious and oppressive
one, they performed it in general with moderation. On this account
they could not refrain from expressing their astonishment at the repoics
made to them by the authorities at Nismes, declaring, " They had
found a population suflering great misfortunes, but no rebels; and that
compassion was the only feeling that prevailed in their minds." The
commander himself was so convinced of the good disposition of the
people of the Cevennes, that he visited those districts without an
escort, desiring, lie said, to travel in that country as he would in his
own. Such confidence was a public reproach on the authorities at
Nismes, and a sentence of condemnation on all their proceedings.
As the persecution of the protestants was spreading into other de-
partments, strong and forcible representations were secretly printed
582 BOOK OF MARTYRS
and made to the king. All the ordinary modes of communication
had been stopped ; the secrecy of letters violated, and none circulated
but those relative to private affairs. Sometimes these letters bore the
post-mark of places very distant, and arrived without signatures, and
enveloped in allegorical allusions. In fact, a powerful resistance op
the part of the outraged protestants was at length apprehended, which,
in the beginning of September excited the proclamation of the king,
on which it was observed, " that if his majesty had been correctly and
fully informed of all that had taken place, he surely would not have
contented himself Avith announcing his severe displeasure to a misled
people, who took justice into their own hands, and avenged the crimes
committed against royalty.''^ The proclamation was dictated as though
there had not been a protestant in the department; it assumed and
affirmed throughout the guilt of the sufferers ; and while it deplored
the atrocious outrages endured by the followers of the duke d'Angou-
leme, (outrages which never existed,) the plunder and massacre of the
reformed were not even noticed.
Still disorders kept pace with the proclamations that made a show
of suppressing them, and the force of the catholic faction also conti-
nued to increase. The catholic populace, notwithstanding the de-
crees of the magistrates, were allowed to retain the arms they had
illegally seized, whilst the protestants in the departments were dis-
armed. The members of the reformed churches wished at this pe-
riod to present another memorial to the government, descriptive of
the evils they still suffered, but this was not practicable. On the
26th of September, the president of the consistory wrote as follows :
" I have only been able to assemble two or three members of the
consistory pastors or elders. It is impossible to draw up a memoir,
or to collect facts ; so great is the terror, that every one is afraid to
speak of his own sufferings, or to mention those he has been compel-
led to witness."
Outrages committed in the Villages, Spc.
We now quit Nismes to take a view of the conduct of the persecu-
tors in the surrounding country. After the re-establishment of the
royal government, the local authorities were distinguished for their
zeal and forwardness in supporting their employers, and, under pre-
tence of rebellion, concealment of arms, non-payment of contribu-
tions, &:,c. troops, national guards, and armed mobs, were permitted
to plunder, arrest, and murder peaceable citizens, not merely with
impunity, but with encouragement and approbation. At the village of
Milhaud, near Nismes, the inhabitants were frequently forced to pay
large sums to avoid being pillaged. This, however, would not avail
at Madame Teulon's : On Sunday, the 16th of July, her house and
grounds were ravaged ; the valuable furniture removed or destroyed,
the hay and wood burnt, and the corpse of a child, buried in the gar-
den, taken up and dragged round a fire made by the populace. I'
was with great difficulty that M. Teulon escaped with his life. M
Picherol, another protestant, had deposited some of his effects with a
catholic neighbour; this house was attacked, and though all tlie
property of the latter was respected, that of his friend was seized and
destroyed. At the same village, one of a party doubting whether M
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820. 583
ilermet, a tailor, was the man tliey wanted, asked, " Is he a protest-
ant ?" tills he acknowledged. " Good," said they, and he was instantly
murdered. In the canton of Vauvert, where tliere was a consistory
church, 80,000 francs were extorted. In the communes of Beauvoi-
sin and Generac similar excesses were committed by a handful of li-
centious men, under the eye of the catholic mayor, and to the cries of
" Vive le Roi." St. Gillcs was the scene of the most unblusliing villa-
ny. The protestants, the most wealthy of the inhabitants, were dis-
armed, whilst their houses were pillaged. The mayor was appealed
to : — the mayor laughed and walked away. This officer had, at his
disposal, a national guard of several hundred men, organized by his
own orders. It would be wearisome to read the lists of the crimes
that occurred during many months. At Clavisson the mayor prohi-
bited the protestants the practice of singing the psalms commonly used
in the temple, that, as he said, the catholics might not be offended or
disturbed.
At Sommieres, about ten miles from Nismes, the catholics made
a splendid procession throug?i the town, which continued till evening,
and was succeeded by the plunder of the protestants. On the arrival
of foreign troops at Sommieres, the pretended search for arms was
resumed ; those who did not possess muskets were even compelled to
buy them on purpose to surrender them up, and soldiers were quar-
tered on them at six francs per day till they produced the articles in
demand. The protestant church which had been closed, was con-
verted into barracks for the Austrians. After divine service had been
suspended for six months at Nismes, the church, by the protestants
called the Temple, was re-opened, and public worship performed on
the morning of the 24th of December. On examining the belfry, it
was discovered that some persons had carried off the clapper of the
bell. As the hour of service approached, a number of men, women,
and children, collected at the house of M. Ribot, the pastor, and
threatened to prevent the worship. At the appointed time, when he
proceeded towards the church, he was surrounded ; the most savage
shouts were raised against him ; some of the wom.en seized him by
the collar ; but nothing could disturb his firmness, or excite his im-
patience : he entered the house of prayer, and ascended the pulpit;
stones were thrown in and fell among the worshippers ; still the con-
gregation remained calm and attentive, and the service was conclu-
ded amidst noise, threats, and outrage. On retiring many would
have been killed but for the chasseurs of the garrison, who honour-
ably and zealously protected them. From the captain of these chas-
seurs M. Ribot soon after received the following letter.
" January 2, 1816.
" I deeply lament the prejudices of the catholics against the pro-
testants, who they pretend do not love the king. Continue to act as
vou have hitherto done, and time and your conduct will convince the
catholics to the contrary : should any tumult occur similar to that of
Saturday last, Inform me. I preserve my reports of these acts, and
if the agitators prove incorrigible, and forget what they owe to the best
of kings and the charter, I will do my duty and inform the govern-
ment of their proceedings. Adieu, my dear f^ir ; assure the consis-
tory of my esteem, and of the sense I entertain of the moderation
584 BOOK OF MARTYRS,
with which they have met the provocations of the evil-disposed at
Sommieres. I have the honour to salute you with respect.
SUVAL DE LaINE."
Another letter to this worthy pastor from the Marquis de Montlord,
was received on the 6th of January, to encourage him to unite with all
good men who believe in God to obtain the punishment of the assas-
sins, brigands, and disturbers of publictranquillity, and to read the in-
structions he had received from government to this effect publicly.
Notwithstanding this, on the 20th of January, 1816, when the service
in commemoration of the death of Louis XVI. was celebrated, a pro-
cession being formed, the National Guards fired at the white flag sus-
pended from the windows of the protestants, and concluded the day
by plundering their houses. In the Commune of Angargues, mat-
ters were still worse ; and in that of Fontanes, from the entry of the
king in 1815, the catholics broke all terms with the protestants ;
by day they insulted them, and in the night broke open their doors,
or marked them with chalk to be plundered or burnt. St. Mamert was
repeatedly visited by these robberies; and at Montmiral, as lately as
the 16th of June, 1816. the protestants were attacked, beaten, and im-
prisoned, for daring to celebrate the return of a king who had sworn
to preserve religious liberty and to maintain the charter. In fact, to
continue the relation of the scenes that took place in the different de-
partments of the south of France, would be little better than a repeti-
tion of those we have already described, excepting a change of names:
but the most sanguinary of all seems that which was perpetrated at
Uzes, at the latter end of August, and the burning of several protest-
ant places of worship. These shameful persecutions continued till
after the dissolution of the Chamber of Deputies at the close of the
year 1816. After a review of these anti-protestant proceedings, the
British reader will not think of comparing them with the riots of Lon-
don in 1780, or with those of Birmingham about 1793 ; as it is evi-
dent that where governments possess absolute power, such events
could not have been prolonged for many months and even for years
over a vast extent of country, had it not been for the systematic and
powerful support of the higher department of the state.
Farther Account of the Proceedings of the Catholics at Nismes.
The excesses perpetrated in the country it seems did not by any
means divert the attention of the persecutors from Nismes. October,
1815, commenced without any improvement in the principles or mea-
sures of the government, and this was followed by corresponding pre-
sumption on the part of the people. Several houses in the Quartier
St. Charles were sacked, and their wrecks burnt in the streets, amidst
songs, dances, and shouts of Vive le Roi. The mayor appeared, but
the merry multitude pretended not to know him, and when he ven-
tured to remonstrate, they told him, "his presence was unnecessary,
and that he might retire."' During the 16th of October, every prepa-
ration seemed to announce a night of carnage ; orders for assembling
and signals for attack were circulated with regularity and confidence'J
Trestaillon reviewed his satellites, and urged them on to the perpe
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820 535
Iration of crimes, holding with one of those wretches the following
dialogue :
Satellite. "If all the protestants, without one exception, are to be
killed, I will cheerfully join ; but as you have so often deceived me,
unless they are all to go I will not stir."
Trestaillon. " Come along, then, for this time not a single man
shall escape." This horrid purpose would have been executed had it
not been for General La Garde, the commandant of the department.
It was not till ten o'clock at night that he perceived the danger ; he
now felt that not a moment could be lost. Crowds were advancing
through the suburbs, and the streets were filling with ruffians, utter-
ing the most horrid imprecations. The generale sounded at eleven
o'clock, and added to the confusion that was now spreading through
the city. A few troops rallied round the Count La Garde, who was
wrung with distress at the sight of the evil wich had arrived at such
a pitch. Of this M. Durand, a cathoUc advocate, gave the following
account :
" It was near midnight, my wife had just fallen asleep ; I was wri-
ting by her side, when we were disturbed by a distant noise ; drums
seemed crossing the town in every direction. What could all this
mean ! To quiet her alarms, I said it probably announced the arrival
or departure of some troops of the garrison. But firing and shouts
were immediately audible ; and on opening my window I distinguish-
ed horrible imprecations mingled with cries of Vive le Roi ! I roused
an officer who lodged in the house, ar i M. Chancel, Director of the
Public Works. We went out together, and gained the Boulevarde.
The moon shone bright, and almost every object was nearly as dis-
tinct as day ; a furious crowd was pressing on, vowing extermination,
and the greater part half naked, armed with knives, musket?, sticks,
and sabres. In answer to my inquiries, I was told the rriassacre was
general ; that many had been already killed in the suburbs. M.
Chancel retired to put on his uniform as Captain of the Pompiers ;
the officers retired to the barracks, and anxious for my wife I returned
home. By the noise I was convinced that persons followed. I crept
along in the shadow of the wall, opened my door, entered, and closed
it, leaving a small aperture through which I could watch the move-
ments of the party whose arms shone in the moonlight. In a {ew mo-
ments some armed men appeared conducting a prisoner to the very
spot where I was concealed. They stopped, I shut my door gently,
and mounted on an alder tree planted against the garden wall. What
a scene ! a man on his knees imploring mercy from wretches who
mocked his agony, and loaded him with abuse. In the name of my
wife and children, he said, spare me! What have I done? Why
would you murder me for nothing? I was on the point of crying out
and menacing the murderers with vengeance. I had not long to
deliberate, the discharge of several fusils terminated my suspense ;
the unhappy supplicant, struck in the loins and the head, fell to rise no
more. The backs of the assassins were towards the tree ; they retired
immed.u^ely, reloading their pieces. I descended and approached
the dying man, uttering some deep and dismal groans. Some Na-
tional Guards arrived at the moment, I again retired and shut the
door : "I see," said one, "a dead man." "He sings still," said ano-
ther. " It will be better," said a third, " to finish him and put him
586 KOOK OF MARTYRS.
out of his misery." Five or six muskets were fired instantly, and the
groans ceased. On the following day crowds came to inspect and
insult the deceased. A day after a massacre was always observed
as a sort of fete, and every occupation was left to go ajid gaze upon
the victims. This was Louis Lichare, the father of four children ;
and four years after the event M. Durand verified this account by his
oath upon the trial of one of the murderers."
Attach upon the Protestant Churches.
Some time before the death of General La Garde, the duke of
Angouleme had visited Nismes, and other cities in the south, and at
the former place honoured the members of the protestant consistory
with an interview, promising them protection, and encouraging them
to reopen their temple so long shut up. They have two churches at
Nismes, and it was agreed that the small one should be preferred on
tiiis occasion, and that the ringing of the bell should be omitted ;
General La Garde declared that he would answer with his head for
the safety of the congregation. The protestants privately informed
each other that worship was once more to be celebrated at ten o'clock,
and they began to assemble silently and cautiously. It was agreed
that M. Juillerat Chasseur should perform the service, though such
was his conviction of danger that he entreated his wife, and some of
his flock, to remain with their families. The temple being opened
only as a matter of form, and in compliance with the orders of the
Duke d'Angouleme, this pastor :vished to be the only victim. On his
way to the place he passed numerous groupes who regarded him with
ferocious looks. " This is the time," said some, *• to give them the last
blow." " Yes," added others, " and neither women nor children must
be spared." One wretch, raising his voice above the rest, exclaimed,
" Ah, I will go and get my musket, and ten for my share." Through
these ominous sounds M. Juillerat pursued his course, but when he
gained the temple the sexton had not the courage to open the door,
and he was obliged to do it himself As the worshippers arrived they
found strange persons in possession of the adjacent streets, and upon
the steps of the church, vowing their worship should not be perform-
ed, and crying, " Down with the protestants! Kill them! kill them !"
At ten o'clock the church being nearly filled, M. J. Chasseur com-
menced the prayers : a calm tliat succeeded was of short duration.
On a sudden the minister was interrupted by a violent noise, and a
number of persons entered, uttering the most dreadful cries, mingled
with Vive le Roi ! but the gens-d'armes succeeded in excluding these
fanatics, and closing the doors. The noise and tumult without now
redoubled, and the blows of the populace trying to break open the
doors, caused the house to resound with shrieks and groans. The
voice of the pastors who endeavoured to console their flock, was in-
audible ; they attempted in vain to sing the 42d psalm.
Three quarters of an hour rolled heavily away. " I placed myself,"
says Madame Juillerat, " at the bottom of the pulpit, with my
daughter in my arms ; my husband at length joined and sustained
me ; I remembered that it was the anniversary of my marriage •
after six years of happiness, I said, I am about to die with my hus
band and my daughter : we shall be slain at the altar of our God, thfj
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820. 587
victims of a sacred duty, and heaven will open to receive us and our
unhappy brethren. I blessed the Redeemer, and without cursing our
murderers, I awaited their approach."
M. Oliver, son of a pastor, an officer in the royal troops of the line,
attempted to leave the church, but the friendly sentinels at the door
advised him to remain besieged with the rest. The national guards
refused to act, and the fanatical crowd took every advantage of the
absence of General La Garde, and of their increasing numbers. At
length the sound of martial music was heard, and voices from without
called to the besieged, " Open, open, and save yourselves." Their
first impression was a fear of treachery, but they were soon assured
that a detachment returning from mass was drawn up in front of the
church to favour the retreat of the protestants. The door was open-
ed, and many of them escaped among the rtinks of the soldiers, who
had driven the mob before them ; but this street, as well as others
through which the fugitives had to pass, was soon filled again. The
venerable pastor, Olivier Desmond, between 70 and 80 years of age,
was surrounded by murderers ; they put their fists in his face, and
cried, " Kill the chief of brigands." He was preserved by the firm-
ness of some officers, among whom was his own son ; they made a
bulwark round him with their bodies, and amidst their naked sabres
conducted him to his house. M. Juillerat, who had assisted at divine
service, with his wife at his side, and his child in his arms, was pur-
sued and assailed with stones ; his mother received a blow on the
head, and her life was some time in danger. One woman was shame-
fully whipped, and several wounded and dragged along the streets ;
the number of protestants more or less ill treated on this occasion,
amounted to between seventy and eighty.
Murder of General La Garde.
At length a check was put to these excesses by the report of the
murder of Count La Garde, who, receiving an account of this
tumult, mounted his horse, and entered one of the streets, to disperse
a crowd. A villain seized his bridle; another presented the muzzle of
a pistol close to his body, and exclaimed, " Wretch, you make me
retire !" He immediately fired. The murderer was Louis Boissin, a
Serjeant in the national guard ; but, though known to every one, no
person endeavoured to arrest him, and he effected his escape. As
soon as the general found himself wounded, he gave orders to the
gendarmerie to protect the protestants, and set oflf on a gallop to his
hotel; but fainted immediately on his arrival. On recovering, he
prevented the surgeon from searching his wound till he had written a
letter to the government, that, in case of his death, it might be known
from what quarter the blow came, and that none might dare to accuse
the protestants of this crime. The probable death of this general
produced a small degree of relaxation on the part of their enemies,
and some calm ; but the mass of the people had been indulged in
licentiousness too long to be restrained even by the murder of the re-
presentative of their king. In the evening they again repaired to tie^
temple, and with hatchets broke open the doors ; the dismal noise o*
uieir blows carried terror into the bosom of the protestant families
sitting in their houses in tears. The contents of the poor's box, and
588 BOOK OF MARTYRS
the clothes prepared for distribution, were stolen ; the minister's robes
rent in pieces; the books torn up or carried away; the closets were
ransacked, but the room which contained the archives of the church,
and the synods, was providentially secured ; and had it not been for the
numerous patrols on foot, the whole would have become the prey of
the flames, and the edifice itself a heap of ruins. In the mean while,
the fanatics openly ascribed the murder of the general to his own
self-devotion, and said " that it was the will of God." Three thou-
sand francs were offered for the apprehension of Boissin ; but it was
well known that the protestants dared not arrest him, and that the
fanatics would not. During these transactions, the systems of forced
conversions to Catholicism was making regular and fearful pro-
gress.
Interference of the British Government.
To the credit of England, the reports of these cruel persecutions
carried on against our protestant brethren in France, produced such
a sensation on the part of government as determined them to inter-
fere ; and now the persecutors of the protestants made this spotaneous
act of humanity and religion the pretext for charging the sufferers
with a treasonable correspondence with England ; but in this state of
their proceedings, to their great dismay, a letter appeared, sent some
time before to England by the duke of Wellington, stating " that much
information existed on the events of the south."
The ministers of the three denominations in London, anxious not
to be misled, requested one of their brethren to visit the scenes of
persecution, and examine with impartiality the nature and extent of
the evils they were desirous to relieve. The Rev. Clement Perrot
undertook this difficult task, and fulfilled their wishes with a zeal,
prudence, and devotedness, above all praise. His return furnished
abundant and incontestible proof of a shameful persecution, materi-
als for an appeal to the British parliament, and a printed report which
was circulated through the continent, and which first conveyed cor
rect information to the inhabitants of France.
Foreign interference was now found eminently useful ; and the de-
clarations of tolerance which it elicited from the French government,
as well as the more cautious march of the catholic persecutors, ope-
rated as decisive and involuntary acknowledgments of the importance
of that interference, which some persons at first censured and despised :
but though the stern voice of public opinion in England and elsewhere
produced a reluctant suspension of massacre and pillage, the murder-
ers and plunderers were still left unpunished, and even caressed and
rewarded for their crimes ; and whilst protestants in France suffered
the most cruel and degrading pains and penalties for aiieged trifling
crimes, catholics, covered with blood, and guilty of numerous and
horrid murders, were acquitted.
Perhaps the virtuous indignation expressed by some of the more
enlightened catholics against these abominable proceedings, had no
small share in restraining them. Many innocent protestants had been
condemned to the gallies, and otherwise punished, for supposed crimes,
upon the oaths of wretches the most unprincipled and abandoned.
M. Madier de Montgau, judge of the cour royale of Nismes, and
president of the cour d'assizes of the Gard and Vaucluse, upon one
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820. 5pU
occasion fell himsplf compelled to break up the court, rather thar
take the deposition oi that notorious and sanguinary monster Trn-
phemy : " In a hall," says he, " of the Palace of Justice, opposite that
in which I sat, several unfortunate persons persecuted by the faction
were upon trial : every deposition tending to their crimination was
applauded with the cries of ' Vive le Roi.' Three times the explosion
of this atrocious joy became so terrible, that it was necessary to send
for reinforcements from the barracks, and two hundred soldiers were
often unable to restrain the people. On a sudden the shouts and
cries of ' Vive le Roi'' redoubled : a man arrives, caressed, applaud-
ed, borne in triumph — it is the horrible Truphemy ; he approaches
the tribunal — he comes to depose against the prisoners — he is admit-
ted as a witness — he raises his hand to take the oath ! Seized with
horror at the sight, I rush from my seat, and enter the hall of coun-
cil ; my colleagues follow me ; in vain they persuaded me to resume
my seat; ' No !' exclaimed I, ' I will not consent to see that wretch
admitted to give evidence in a court of justice in the city which he
has filled with murders ; in the palace, on the steps of which he has
murdered the unfortunate Bourillon. I cannot admit that he should
kill his victims by his testimonies no more than by his poniards. He
an accuser ! he a witness ! No, never will I consent to see this mon-
ster rise, in the presence of magistrates, to take a sacrilegious oath,
his hand still reeking with blood." These words were repeated out
of doors ; the witness trembled ; the factious also trembled ; the fac
tious who guided the tongue of Truphemy as they had directed his
arm, who dictated calumny after they had taught him murder. These
words penetrated the dungeons of the condemned, and inspired hope;
they gave another courageous advocate the resolution to espouse the
cause of the persecuted : he carried the prayers of innocence and
misery to the foot of the throne ; there he asked if the evidence of a
Truphemy was not sufficient to annul a sentence. The king granted
a full and free pardon.
Perjury in the case of General Gilly, SfC.
This catholic system of subornation and perjury was carried to
such an infamous degree, that twenty-six witnesses were found to
sign and swear, that on the 3d of April, 1815, General Gilly, with
his own hand, and before their eyes, took down the white flag at
Nismes ; though it was proved that at the time when the tri-coloured
flag was raised in its room, the general was fifteen leagues from Nis-
mes, and that he did not arrive there till three days after that event.
Before tribunals thus constructed, even innocence had not the least
chance for protection. General Gilly knew better than to appear be-
fore them, and was condemned to death for contempt of court. But
when he left Nismes, he thought either of passing into a foreign coun-
try, or of joining the army of the Loire ; and it was long supposed
that he had actually escaped. As it was impossible to gain any point,
or find any security, his only hope was in concealment, and a friend
found him an asylum in the cottage of a peasant ; but that peasant
was a protestant, and the general was a catholic : however, he did
not hesitate ; he confided in this poor man's honour. This cottage
was in the canton of Anduze ; the name of its keeper, Perrier ; he
500 ' BOQ-IS. OF MARTYRS.
welcomed the fugitive, and did not even ask his name : it was a time
of proscription, and his host would know nothing of him ; it was
enough that he was unfortunate, and in danger. He was disguised,
and Jin passed for Perrier's cousin. The general is naturally amiable,
and he made himself agreeable, sat by the fire, ate potatoes, and con-
tented himself with miserable fare. Though subject to frequent and
many painful alarms, he preserved his retreat several months, and
often heard the visiters of his host boast of the concealment of Gene-
ral Gilly, or of being acquainted with the place of his retreat. Patrols
were continually searching for arms in the houses of protestants ;
and often in the night the general was obliged to leave his mattress,
half naked, and hide himself in the fields. Perrier, to avoid these
inconveniences, made an under-ground passage, by which his guest
could pass to an outhouse. The wife of Perrier could not endure
that one who had seen better days should live as her family did, on
vegetables and bread, and occasionally bought meat to regale the
melancholy stranger. These unusual purchases excited attention ;
it was suspected that Perrier had some one concealed ; nightly
visi's were more frequent. In this state of anxiety he often com-
plained of the hardness of his lot. Perrier one day returned from
market in a serious mood ; and after some inquiries from his guest,
he replied, " Why do you complain ? you are fortunate compared
with the poor wretches whose heads were cried in the market to-day:
Bruguier, the pastor, at 2400 francs ; Bresse, the mayor, at the
same ; and General Gilly at 10,000 !" — " Is it possible ?" " Aye, it
is certain." Gilly concealed his emotion ; a momentary suspicion
passed his mind ; he appeared to reflect. " Perrier." said he, " I am
weary of life ; you are poor and want money : I kno.v Gilly and the
place of his concealment ; let us denounce him ; I shall, no doubt,
obtain my liberty, and you shall have the 10,000 francs." The old
man stood speechless, and as if petrified. His son, a gigantic peasant,
27 years of age, who had served in the army, rose from his chair, in
which he had listened to the conversation, and in a tone not to be de-
scribed, said, " Sir, hitherto we thought you unfortunate, but honest;
we have respected your sorrow, and kept your secret ; but since you
are one of those wretched beings who would inform of a fellow
creature, and insure his death to save yourself, there is the door ; and
if you do not retire, I will throw you out of the window." Gilly hesi-
tated ; the peasant insisted ; the General wished to explain, but he
was seized by the collar. " Suppose I should be General Gilly," said
the fugitive. The soldier paused. " And it is even so," continued he ;
"denounce me, and the 10,000 francs are your's." The soldier threw
himself on his neck ; the family were dissolved in tears ; they kissed
his hands, his clothes, protested they would never let him leave them,
and that they would die rather than he should be arrested. In their
kindness he was more secure than ever ; but their cottage was more
suspected, and he was ultimately obliged to seek another asylum.
The family refused any indemnity for the expense he had occasioned
them, and it was not till long after that he could prevail upon them to
accept an acknowledgment of their hospitality and their fidelity. In
1820, when the course of justice was more free, General Gilly de-
manded a trial ; there was nothing against him ; and the Duke d'An-
FRENCH PERSECUTIONS— 1814 to 1820, 59 1
gonleme conveyed to Madame Gilly the permission of the king for
the return of her husband to the bosom of his country.
But, even when the French government was resolved to bring tlie
factions of the department of the Gard under the laws, the same men
continued to exercise the public functions. The society, called Roy-
ale, and its secret committee, maintained a power superior to the
laws. It was impossible to procure the condemnation of an assassin,
though the evidence against him was incontcstible, end for whom, in
other times, there would have been no hope. The Truphemys, and
others of his stamp, appeared in public, wearing immense mustachios,
and white cockades embroidered with green. Like the brigands of
Calabria, they had two pistols and a poniard at their waists. Their
appearance diffused anair of melancholy mixed with indignation. Even
amidst the bustle of the day there was the silence of tear, and the night
was disturbed by atrocious songs, or vociferations like the sudden cry
of ferocious wild beasts.
Ultimate Resolution of the Protestants at Nismes.
"With respect to the conduct of the protestants, these highly outraged
citizens, pushed to extremities by their persecutors, felt at length that
they had only to choose the manner in which they were to perish.
They unanimously determined that they would die fighting in their
own defence. This firm attitude apprized their butchers that they
could no longer murder with impunity. Every thing was immediately
changed. Those, who for four years had filled others with terror,
now felt it in their turn. They trembled at the force which men, so
long resigned, found in despair, and their alarm was heightened when
they heard that the inhabitants of the Cevennes, persuaded of the dan-
ger of their brethren, were marching to their assistance. But, with
out waiting for these reinforcements, the protestants appeared at nigh
ill the same order and armed in the same manner as their enemies
The others paraded the Boulevards, with their usual noise and fury
but the protestants remained silent and firm in the posts they hau
chosen. Three days these dangerous and ominous meetings con-
tinued ; but the effusion of blood was prevented by the efforts of some
worthy citizens distinguished by their rank and fortune. By sharing
the dangers of the protestant population, they obtained the pardon of
an enemy who now trembled while he menaced.
But though the protestants were modest in their demands, only
asking present safety, and security for the future, they did not obtain
above half of their requests. The dissolution of the National Guard at
Nismes was owing to the prudence and firmness of M. Laine. The
re-organization of the Cour Royale was effected by M. Pasquicr, then
Keeper of the Seals ; and these measures certainly ensured them a
present safety, but no more. M. Madier de Montgau, the generous
champion of the protestants of Nismes, was officially summoned be-
fore the Court of Cassation at Paris, over which M. de Serre, Keeper of
the Seals, presided, to answer for an alleged impropriety of conduct
as a magistrate, in making those public appeals to the Chamber
which saved the protestants, and increased the difficulties of renew-
ing those persecutions of which he complained. The FrencU alter
ney general demanded the erasure of his name from the list oi ma
598 BOOK OF MARTYRS.
gistrates, but this the court refused. Unfortunately, since the law of
elections in France has been changed, two of the bitterest enemies of
the protestants have been chosen Deputies at Nismes. The future,
therefore, is not without its dangers, and the condition of the perse-
cuted may fluctuate with the slightest poHtical alteration; but which,
it is to be hoped, may be prevented from any acts that may again dis-
grace the catholic rehgion by the powerful expression of the public
mind, actuated with better principles, or by the interference of the
protestant influence in this or other countries. Happily, since the
year 1820, no fresh complaints have issued from the south of France
on the score of religion.
INDEX.
Abyssinia, persecutions in, 146.
Africa, persecutions in, 40, 48, 59.
Aiban, first British martyr, 51.
Albigenses, persecutions of, 88, — success
of, 93.
Algerines, inhuman conduct of, towards
Christians, 149.
Allin, Edmund, martyrdom of, 435.
Alphage, account of, 79.
Ambrose, George, martyrdom of| 400.
Anne, of Cleves, divorce of, 235.
Anne queen, commendable conduct of,
180.
Apostles, lives, sufferings and martyrdom
of the, 27.
Argimients for rejecting the pope's pow-
er, 209.
Argyle, earl of, and followers, defeat of,
560.
Arian Heretics, persecutions by the, 69.
Armada, the Spanisli, 501— articles taken
on board the, 510.
Armstrong, Sir Thomas, execution of,
554.
Arras, martyrdom at, 99.
Arthur, earl of Essex, murder of, 541.
Articles, act of the six, 234.
Askew, Aime, martyrdom of, 243.
Assassination plot, account of the, 566.
Attack upon the Protestant churches, 586.
Atterbury's plot, 569.
Austrians, arrival at Nismes, 581.
Aoto da Fe's at Madrid, 106, 107.
B
Benet, Thomas, persecution and martyr-
dom of, 251.
Badby, Thomas, martyrdom of, 194.
Barbarities of the inquisition in Spain and
Portugal, 113.
Bari)aritics of Jeffries in the west of Eng-
land, 541.
Barbary, persecutions in the states of, 149.
Barnes, Dr. Robert, martyrdom ofj 236.
Basil, martyrdom o^ 73.
Batcman, Mr. Charles, trial and execution
of, 559.
Beaton, cardinal, death of, 27?
Berengarius, 83.
Bezieres, siege ofj 90.
courage of the earl o^ 90.
Bible, translation of the, propose], 223.
— attempts to suppress the, 239
38
Bilney, Thomas, martyrdom o^ 217.
Bohemia, persecutions in, 129.
Borhoquia, Jane, cruel tortures of, in tue
Inquisition, 115.
Boleyn, Anne, coronation of, as queen ol
England, 207.
Boleyn, Anne, trial and execution of; 225,
Bongey, Cornelius, martyrdom of, 328.
Bonner, bishop, sufferings of John Phil-
pot under, 353 — —degradation of
Oranmer by, 387 examination of
persons, by 427 scourging of
Thomas Hinshaw by, 452, of
John Willes, 452.
Boralli, avarice and injustice o^ 86.
Bruis, Peter, 83.
Byfield, burning of, 218.
Calabria, persecutions in, 150.
Campegio, arrival of, in England, 200.
Careless, John, death of, 408.
Catharine, Dutchess of Suffolk, history of;
473.
Catherine, Infanta of Spain, marriage
of, with Henry VIII, 198— legality
of her marriage doubted by that
monarch, 199 — api>eal of, to the
pope, 201— is left by the king, 304—
death of, 222. ^
Catholic anus at Beaucalre, 574.
Causton. Thomas, martyrdom of, 313.
Cavil 1, John, martyrdom of, 400.
Charles V., his efforts to extirpate the
Protestants, 139.
China, persecutions in, 144.
Christians, a general sacrifice of, 53.
Coberly, William, martyrdom of, 398.
Conceicao, Maria de, cruel tortures ofj in
the Inquisition, 114.
Calas, John, martynrdom of, 181.
Conspiracies of the papists, from the revo-
lution to the reign of George II. 560.
Constance, council of, 133.
Cons^antine, vision of, 64, — victory of|
65 — letter of, to the king of Persia,
in favour of Christians, b9.
Constantinople, capture of, by the infidels,
147.
Convocation, debates in the, 226.
Coo, Roger, martyrdom of, 327.
Corneford, John and others, martyrdom
of, 460.
594
LNDEJi,
Cornish, alderman, trial aiid execution
of, 556.
Cranmer, Thomas, accoimt of, 202 —
made Archbishop of Canterbury,
206— ruin of, attempted, 241— fur-
ther desi^s against, 247 — charac-
ter oi, 382 — divorces queen Cathe-
rine, 383 — accusation of, before the
king, 384 — manner of escape, 384, —
condemnation of, for treason, 386 —
pardon of, 386 — charge of heresy
against, 386 — condemnation and de-
gradation of, 387 — recantation of, 388
—death of, 397.
Crete, persecutions in,44.
Cromwell, appointment of, as Vicar-Ge-
neral, 221~fall of, 235.
Cyp»rian, account of, 48.
Cyril, martyrdom of, 44.
D.
Dauphiny, persecutions in, 86.
Decree in China against the doctruict? of
Christianity, 145.
Defence, heroic, of the Protectants of
Roras, 168.
Defence", in the Inquisition,of little use,104.
Dionysius, the Areopagite, death of, 33.
Dissolution of the religious houses, 231.
Dominic, author of the Inquisition, 85.
Dominicans, and Franciscans, the most
zealous friends of the Inquisition, 102.
Drake, Robert, martyrdom of, 400.
Earl Simon defeated by the Albigenses,
95, 96.
Edward VI., progress of the reformation
in the reign of, 282 — sickness and
<leath of; 284.
Elizabetli, princess, birth of, 208 — mira-
culous preservation of, 487.
Emperor Ferdinand, cruel persecution by,
130.
England, reformation in, when begun,
190 — progress of the reformation in,
in the reign of Henry VIII. 196.
F.
Fabian, martyrdom of, 42.
Fairfax, Thomas, scourging of, 464.
Faith, St. martyrdom of, 52.
Fan-ar, Dr. Robert, martyrdom of, 315.
Females, monstrous outrage upon, 580.
Ferdinand, emperor, persecution by, 130.
Fisher, bishop, account of, 212, 215.
Fortitude, a noble example of, 56.
Fortune, John, martyrdom of, 404.
France, persecution in, 83, 98 — horrible
massacre in, A. D. 1572, 125 — per-
secution in, in the 16th and 17th
century, 177.
Frith, martyrdom of, 219.
G.
Galerius, persecutions by, 61.
Geddes, Dr., his account of an Auto da
Fe, 107.
Georjre, St. martyrdom of, 64.
Georgia and Mingrelia, persecutions in,
149.
Germany, persecutions in, 129, 139.
Gianavei, Joshua, noble conduct o^ 177
Glover, Robert, martyrdom of, 328.
Gore, James, death o^ 349.
Goths and Vandals, persecutions by, 75.
Green, Thomas, scourging of, 469.
Grey, Lady Jane, declaration of, as queen,
286.
Guernsey, martyrdom of three women and
infant in, 418.
Gunpowder plot, by the Papists, account
of the, 512.
H.
Hamilton, Patrick, martyrdom of, 265.
Henricians, why so called, 83.
Henry III. assassination of, 177.
Henry IV., submission of, to Pope Gre-
gory, 188.
Henry VIII. history of his marriage with
Catherine, 198 — with Anne Boleyn,
296 — with Jane Seymour, 226 — with
Catherine Howard, 239— with Ca-
therine Parr, ib. — sickness and death
of, 250.
Heresy, what, 103.
Higbed, Thomas, martyrdom of, 313.
Holland, Roger, History, &c.. of, 444.
Holloway, Mr. James, execution of, 552.
Hooper, bishop, sufferings and martyrdom
of, 293.
Howard, queen Catherine, execution o^
239.
Hunt, John, condenmation of, 461.
Hunter, William, martyrdom of, 311.
Huss, John, life, sufTermgs, and martyr-
dom of, 132.
Hylas, a pagan, cruel conduct of, towards
his son, 53.
Ignatius, bishop of Antioch, martyrdom
^ of, 34. ^
Images, impostures of, iliscovered, 232.
Inquisition, origin of, 85, 102 — officers of,
103 — sentence of, 105 — mode of tor-
turing in, 109, 111 — barbarities o^
in Spain and Portugal, 113.
Inquisitor, horrid treachery of an, 113.
Interference of the British government,
588.
Interview of the kings of England and
France, 206,
Irenaeus, bishop of Lyons, martyrdom o^
40.
Italy, martyrdoms in various parts ofj 159.
Jackfecn, John, examination of, 420.
Japan, persecutions in, 145.
Jerome, cf Prague, life, sufferings, and
martyrdom of, 136.
Jolm, king, surrender of his crown to
the pope, 189.
Johnson, Rev. Mr., sufferings olj 560.
Julian, the apostate, persecutions undei;
72 — death of, 75.
Justin, martyrdom of, 37.
K.
Kent, story of the Nun o^ 212.
IWDEX.
595
King of England, proclamation o^ as
nead of the church, 215.
Knight, Stephen, martyrdom ofj 313.
L.
Lambert, John, martyrdom of, 233.
Lateran, council of, 96.
Latjmer, Hugh, life, sufferings, and mar-
tyrdom of, 333, burning of, 344.
Laurence, St., martyrdom ot" 47.
Lawrence, Rev. John, martj^rdom of, 313.
Letters from Louvois to Marillac, 576.
Lincolnshire, rebellion in, 230.
Lithgon, William, life and sufferings of,
118.
Lithuania, persecutions in, 143.
Lollards, persecutions of, 197.
Loseby, Thomas, and others, martyrdom
of, 431.
Louis XIV., inhuman conduct of, 179.
Louis XVIII., the arrival o^ at Paris,
572 — decree of, in favour of the per-
secuted, 578.
Luther, progress of the doctrines of, 198.
M.
Mahomet, account of, 147.
Marsh, Rev. George, martyrdom of, 319.
Martin, Isaac, trial and sufferings of, 116.
Martyrdom, of three sisters, 59 of
Theodotus and others, 60 — in Na-
ples, 63— of St. George, 64 — of Si-
meon and others, 67 — of Basil 73 —
at Arras, 99— of John Galas, 181—
of Thomas Badby, 191 — of Sir John
Oldcastle, 195 — of Thomas Bilney,
217— of Frith, 219— of John Lam-
bert, 223— of Robert Barnes, 236—
of Anne Askew, 243 — of William
Tindall, 258— of Patrick Hamilton,
265— of George Wishart, 268— of
Walter Mille, 279— of John Rogers,
289 — of Laurence Saunders, 290 —
of Bishop Hooper, 293 — of Dr. Row-
land Taylor, 301— of Thomas Tom-
kins, 309— of William Hunter, 311
—of Thomas Higbed, 313— of Tho-
mas Causton and others, 313— of
Dr. Farrar, 315— of Rawlins White,
317— of George Marsh, 319— of
Margaret Policy, 323— of Robert Sa-
muel, 325 — of Robert Glover, Corne-
lius Bongey, William Wolsey, Ro-
bert Pigot, 328— of Hntrh Latimer,
Nicholas Ridley. 333— of John Webb,
George Roper, Gregory Parke, 348 —
William Wiseman, James Gore,
John Philpot, 349— of Archbishop
Cranmtr, 397 — of John Maundrel,
William Coberly, John Spicer, 398 —
of Richard and Thomas Spurg, John
Cavil, George Ambrose, Robert
Drake, William Tims, 400— of John
Fortune, 404 — of John Careless, 408
— of Julius Palmer and others, 412 —
of Joan Waste, 422 — of Loscbv and
others, 431— of Edmund AUin, 435—
of Rev. Jf)lm RoU'jh and Maruiirct
Maring, 440 — of Robert Mills" and
others, 443 — of Henry Pond and
others, 444— of Eli/abeth Prest,454—
of John Corneford and others, 460.
Martj-rdoms, numerous, 100, 327 — vari-
ous, 423— in Italy, 159— in England,
309. ^
Martyrdom of six persons, 267.
Mary, accession of, to the throne of Eng-
land, 285— coronation of, 288 — san-
guinary proceedings of, ib.— death o^
462— character of, 463.
Massacre, horrible, of Christian soldiers,
50 — in France, 125 — in Japan, 146—
barbarous, of protestants in Ireland,
ol7 — at Nismes, 574.
Maundrel, John, martyrdom of, 398.
Maximus and Licinius, death of, 65.
Meal tub plot, account of, 540.
Mille, Walter, martyrdom of, 279.
Molinos, Michael de, persecution of, 174
— sentence against, 177.
Monasteries, general visitation of the, 221
—suppression of, 223, 229, 231.
Monmouth, duke of, insurrection, defeat,
and death ofj 560.
Moor, Thomas, martyrdom of, 420.
More, Sir Thomas, account of, 212, 215.
Murder of General La Garde, 587.
N.
Naples, martyrdom in, 63.
Napoleon's return from the isle of Elba,
573.
Netherlands, persecutions in the, 111.
Nismes, massacre and pillage at, 574 —
further account of the proceedings of
the protestants at, 584— ultimate r&-
solutionof the protestants at, 591.
Northumberland, Duke of, beheaded, 288.
O.
Oldcastle, Sir John, martyrdom of, 195.
Orange, assassination of the prince o^ 143.
Origen, account of, 45.
Orobio, Isaac, cruel toitures of, in the in-
quisition, 115.
Outrages committed in iLe villages around
Nismes, 582.
P.
Palmer, Julius, and others, suflcrings of,
412.
Papists, horrid plot cf, for burning the
city of London, 532.
Parr, CaMierine, marriage of, with Henry
Vlll. 246 — interesting conversation
of, with the king, 248.
Paul, persecution of| 70.
Paul, third, proposal of, to Henry VIII.
to be reconciled, 226.
Perjury m the case of General Gilley, 589.
Pcrpetua, singular fortitude of, 40.
Persecution, the first primitive, under
Nero, 32 — second, under Domitian,
33 — tliird, under the Roman empe-
rors, 34 — fourth, under the same, 35
—fifth, 39— sixth, 41— seventh, 42—
eighth. 46— ninth, 40— tenth, 53.
of earl of Touioase, 68— of Mi
chael dc Molinos, 174.
INDEX.
Persecutions ty the Arian Heretics, 69 —
under Julian, the apostate, 72 — by
Goths and Vandals, 75 — from the
fifth to the seventh century, 77 — in
the eleventh century, 79 — of the Wal-
denses in France, 83 — in Dauphiny,
86 — of the Albigenses, 88 — in Bohe-
mia and Germany, 129 — in the Ne-
therlands, 140 — in Lithuania, 143 —
in China and Japan, 144 — in Abys-
sinia, 146 in Turkey, 147 in
Georgia and Mingrelia, 149 — in Bar-
bary, 149 — in Calabria, 150 — in Pied-
mont, 153— in Venice, 158— in the
marquisate of Saluces, 161— in Pied-
mont, in the 17th century, 162— of
the GLuietists, 176— of the Protestants
in France, 177— of the Lollards, 197
■ — in England, during the reign of
Mary, 285, &c. — of many eminent
protestant patriots in the reigns of
Charles II. and James II., 541— of
the French Protestants in the south
of France, during the years 1814 and
1820, 571.
Persecutors, vengeance of God towards,
66.
Persia, persecutions in, 67.
Philpot, John, history and martyrdom of,
349.
Pianessa, marquis of, inhuman conduct of
the, 168.
Piedmoi't, persecutions in the valleys of,
153— in the 17th century, 162.
Pigot, Robert, martyrdom of, 330.
Pigot, William, martyrdom of, 306.
Policy, Margaret, first female
England, 323.
Polycarpus, martyrdom of, 36.
Pond, Henry, and others, martyrdom of,
444.
Pope, povper of, rejected by th<- EngUsh
parliament, 210.
Popes, causes of their great ascendancy,
187.
Popish Plot, account of, 537.
Portugal, inquisition of, 108.
Preaching, method of, 239.
Prest, Elizabeth, martj-rdom of, 454.
Process, mode of, in the inquisition, 104.
Protestant religion in Ireland, rise and
progress of the, 517, 532.
■ refugees, petition of, to Louis
XVIII., 579.
Protestants, interference of government
against the, 575.
a.
Q.uadratus, learned apology o^ 35.
Cluietists, persecutions of the, 176.
R.
Rack, cruel tortures of the, 1 14.
Rebellions and plots, in the reigns of
Annt!, George I. and II. 573.
Reconciliation, proposal of, to Henry VIII.
by Paul the Third, 226.
Reformation, progress of the, in the reign
of Henry VlII. 196— advocates of,
irtyr in
favoured by the English court, 22ft—
progress of, in the reign of Edwrard
, yi. 282.
Religion, act concerning, 240.
Rhodes, attack on, 148.
Ricci, efforts of, to introduce Christianity
into China, 144.
Ridley, Nicholas, martyrdom of, 333—
burmng of, 344.
Rochelle, surrender of, 178.
Rogers, John, martyrdom of, 289.
Romanus, martyrdom of, 58.
Roper, George, martyrdom of, 348,
Roras, heroic defence of the Protestants
of, 168.
Rough, Rev. John, martyrdom of, 4.40.
S.
Saluces, persecutions in the marquisate
of, 16L
Samuel, Rev. Robert, martyrdom of, 325
Sands, Dr., troubles and deliverance o£
480.
Saunders, Laurence, martyrdom of, 290.
Saviour, history of, 25.
Schism in the church of Rome, 191.
Scotland, persecution in, 265.
Silver child, the history of the, 572.
Simeon, martyrdom of, 67.
Solyman the First, cruel conduct of, 148.
Spicer, John, martyrdom of, 398.
Spurg, Thomas, martyrdom of, 400.
Stanislaus, account of, 81.
Supremacy of the Roman Pontiffs, the
year ^vhich marks the, 187.
T.
Taylor, Dr. Rowland, sufferings and mar-
tyrdom of, 301.
Testament, new translation of, into Eng-
Ush, 215.
Theodotus, mart3Tdom of, 60.
Thomas Tomkins, martyrdom of, 309.
Tilly, Coi.mt, monstrous cruelties of, 140
Timothy, disciple of Paul, cruel death of,
33.
Tims, "William, martyrdom of, 400.
Tindal, translation of the New Testa-
ment by, 215— life and martyrdom of,
258.
Torturing, first, second, and third time
of torturing in the inquisition, 109,
110, 111.
Toulouse, earl of, persecuted, 88 — excom-
municated, 93 — treacherously seized,
97 — surrender of, 94 — recovery of, 96.
Tunis, manner in which a Christian is
treated at, 150.
Turin, propositions of the parliament of,
to the vValdenses, 155.
V.
Valerian, emperor fate of, 49.
Venice, persecutions in, 158.
Vienna, siege of, 148.
Visitation to all the churches and monas-
teries, 221, 229, 231.
Walcot, Hone, and Rouse, tnal and exe-
cution of, 549.
Waldenses, persecutions of the, in France
INDEX.
697
83— tenets of| 84— ecfTerings o^ 86 —
nob's reply of| to the parliament of
Turin, 155.
Waldo, Peter account of, 83, 85.
Waste, Joan, martyrdom of, 4'2"2.
Webb, John, martyrdom of, 348.
White, Rawlins, martjTdom of, 317.
Wickliffe, acx;ount of, 190— translation of
the bibl by, 191.
Wickliffitea, burning of, 181.
William, Lo. d Russel trial and execution
0^54?.
Wilmot, Richard, scourging of, 4C4.
"Wiseman, William, death of, 349.
Wishart, George, life, sufferings, and mar-
tyrdom of, 268.
"Wolsey, cardinal, character of, 196 — dia-
graccd, 202.
"Wolsey, "WilUam, martyrdom ofi 330.
Xist, St, affecting history of the inhaU
tants of, 151.
Y.
Yorksliire, rebellion in, 230.
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