p mi \mm mwi him i \m-m« wmm $m^ 1 h L 1 1 1 tihravy oftht^ theological ^tmimvy 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, 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 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- Persecutions in Bohemia and Crermany. Page 130. Bii'ii ^^^^^2' ^'^ifflEiiHii Iw ■ Hiill ''^ ^^■Hmi ^£|j|^^^ IBa.. i^H'iiw M^-^i; Ks^ ^^ "f"^ ^B^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^miB^^Bgg' ^^^. ^^^^_~=^ Jerome of Prague m ^7ie Stocks. Page 137. 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 hected 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 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- ^^^n R S ^H ^H i^^ft^^^s^ H Seizure of William TindalL Page 263. ^■■1 llilll' p ^ m Kli^l^ "'" -— 'lii i^^^^P SI i i '^^^^^^^^^S Z^T. ^ Edward VI. signing Joan Bocher's Warrant. Martyrdom of aeorgeWisharL Page 269. 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 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," . 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 rejecnow 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. 1 -" @ 5 g L '^M \ ■ 1 A' A ^ ^^\ \- ^^^H 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' cv 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, 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, 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 miletters 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, breauch 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 ^^^m 1 ^^S 1 ^^n ^^^^^mmm iWl'«!'l^'*?^ ^^^m' i ^^^B 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 Murder of Sir O. aodfrey by five Popish ruffians. P 538. r il 11 m bJk 1 1 /r J^^ |i ' "(^ wtl' iiij]fti 1 |j;;\; mi jHII 1 i i ■ Execution of Lord William Russell. Page 542. M rN^iiil'iil'''''" 'iP'tli^ilM ^^ ^■■■.■■n\fl-mmii w^^^mm mmmmmm iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiHir^^ _>-": -IkN''', ^^'- 7' i ^31 li^s^^ CrueZ tortures inflicted on Christians. P. 4-30—450. 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 ; aneal 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 11 i!' I